Going All In

by Alannah Lynne

  She had the feeling he’d watched them do this before, because his lips lifted into a smile and his eyes shone affectionately, as if recalling a fond memory. After a moment, he shifted his attention back to Tyler. “Where’s Alex?”

  Tyler nodded to a block building off to their left. “Taking a quick shower.”

  Her gaze slid to the building, and unbidden images of Wade shedding his clothes and stepping under the spray popped into her mind. Heat spread across her neck and up her cheeks when he tugged at her hand. Thank God he wasn’t a mind reader, because she’d die of embarrassment if he found out he’d become a permanent fixture in her fantasies.

  “The wind is blowing to our backs here,” he said, leading her around the right side of the fire, “which means the smoke will blow away from us.”

  “Okay.” She glanced at the low logs scattered around the fire and thought about the shadow she’d seen from the bridge. An alligator could sneak up from behind and eat them whole, and they’d never know what happened. A shiver racked her body and had her scooting closer to Wade for protection.

  “You can sit in the chair with me,” Wade said, grabbing a lawn chair leaning against the stack of firewood. “I’ll help keep you warm.”

  She wasn’t concerned about the cold—just being in his presence kept her internal temperature hovering at the scorching mark—but the thought of being chomped in half by a nasty set of teeth terrified her.

  She glanced around at the tents sitting on the ground and the logs that seemed to have gotten their fair share of use. Obviously, these guys weren’t afraid of such trivial things—Wade slept on the ground under his truck, for heaven’s sake—so she kept her fears to herself and allowed him to continue to think she was cold. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Public displays of affection—heck, all displays of affection—had been noticeably absent in her parents’ relationship, and she was self-conscious about sitting on his lap, a gesture that seemed too intimate for their current status. But a quick glance at his friends revealed none of them were paying Wade or her any attention.

  Garrett and Matt had settled their dispute and were chatting in regular voices. She spotted Alex ambling across the parking lot, towel tossed over his shoulder, hands tucked into his pockets, appearing to not have a care in the world. And Tyler stared at the hypnotic flames, seemingly a million miles away, lost to his own thoughts.

  Wade extended his hand as he took a seat, so she ignored her reservations and allowed him to pull her down with him. It took a few minutes and lots of adjustments, but she eventually found a comfortable position angled across his lap, her back cradled in the crook of his arm.

  She’d never spent time with a group of men, and it also took a while to get accustomed to the way they interacted with each other—which was very different than the way Tiffany, Jen, and she spoke to each other. The men thrived on rattling each other’s cages—all good-natured fun, nothing malicious—with Wade taking the most hits. The hottest topic: him sleeping under his tailgate and the lightweight he’d been since that night.

  “You had to work with this sorry bastard on Monday, right?” Alex asked.

  From the corner of her eyes, she saw Wade roll his eyes. “Yep.”

  “I bet that was fun,” Tyler added sarcastically. “He can’t hold his liquor for shit.”

  “I can handle liquor fine. The stuff you have isn’t liquor.” His eyes brightened and he glanced at Callie, then to the guys. “She has a home remedy that works like a charm. I don’t think I would’ve survived the day without her Dramamine and Gatorade.”

  Tyler’s head snapped up and a wide grin split his face. “Laney does the same thing…” His expression changed from joy to sorrow as the words fell off and gaping silence filled the air.

  Wade and Alex exchanged glances. Then Wade said, “Five Guys helped too.” He was more animated and enthusiastic than normal, and she suspected he was trying to pull his friend out of the black hole that swallowed him up before their eyes.

  Going along with his plan, she laughed and said, “A heavy dose of grease normally does.” She grimaced and ducked her head. “Believe it or not, Jen, Tiffany, and I have been known to hit Waffle House in the middle of the night.”

  “Oh, no, you didn’t!” Wade’s lousy impression of a Jersey girl had his friends—including Tyler—erupting into laughter.

  Wade’s chest expanded with relief as he took a deep breath, so she kept the conversation going. “I know, right?” She dipped her eyes, then batted her lashes. “If we had a good-looking cook to fix us bacon, eggs, and greasy hash browns, we wouldn’t have to resort to such desperate measures.”

  Three hands shot up around the fire as Wade’s friends, with the exception of Tyler, eagerly offered their services.

  “I’ll fix pancakes,” Alex offered.

  “I’ll see your pancakes and add waffles,” Matt interjected.

  Garrett kicked his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. “Sweetheart, I’ll fix whatever you want.” His smile was slow and easy and tempting even before he added the wink. “Give me a call.”

  Sheesh, good thing Jen wasn’t here. She’d be working out a schedule.

  Wade didn’t make any outrageous offers, but the arm wrapped around her waist tightened, silently staking his claim on her, while his friends made their case as to why they’d be the better choice, at the same time disputing the others’ unique talents and abilities.

  After several moments, Tyler resurfaced from the ugly well of despair he’d fallen into and briefly joined the conversation before switching his attention to Wade. “I’ve got the boat and the magnetometer lined up for Saturday morning. We need to be at the dock by six.”

  Wade hardened like stone and a deep growl escaped his throat. “Bro, I’m telling you. Your mystery boat isn’t out there.” He huffed and shook his head. “Someone would’ve found it by now if it was.”

  Tyler was far less intimidated by Wade’s glare than Callie would’ve been. With a confident smile and nonchalant shrug, he said, “They’re not looking in the right spot.”

  She didn’t know these men well, but she had the suspicion being best friends hadn’t kept them from landing a few solid punches over the years. Based on the anger that continued to build and spill out of Wade, and the less than receptive response from Tyler, she imagined this could easily become one of those instances.

  Hoping a slight change of subject would diffuse a quickly escalating situation, she said, “I can’t imagine diving in this cold weather. Although, I’m not a good judge of these types of things, because I wouldn’t dive on a balmy, summer day.” She shivered. “That would require me getting on a boat, going out into the ocean, and getting into the water with creatures that would make a quick snack of me.” She shuddered again and checked around her feet for alligators as she huddled in closer to Wade.

  “The cold isn’t a problem,” Tyler explained. “We have dry suits, so we don’t even get wet.”

  How could they not get wet while swimming in the ocean?

  She turned to Wade, expecting him to smile at Tyler’s joke, but instead, he nodded and said, “He’s not kidding. The suits zip around the neck and ankles, they have hoodies to protect their heads, booties for their feet, and their masks cover most of their faces. They wear their clothes under their suits, and when they come out of the water, they’re completely dry.”

  He narrowed his gaze and slanted a glare at Tyler. “Dry suits, however, don’t protect against stupidity. And diving when you’re trying to thread a damned needle between storm systems is downright ass-hat stupid.”

  Callie released a long-suffering sigh. Her plan had worked for a minute, but she should’ve known Wade wouldn’t be easily distracted. Unwilling to give up without her own fight, she made another attempt. “None of that would be a problem for me because I’m a total land lover. I don’t even like seafood.”

  Wade tensed again, then released a deep breath and relaxed beneath her. “So you don’t
like lobster?” He laughed a little and tried to make the question sound like a joke, but there was something serious going on behind his eyes.

  Her lip curled reflexively at the question. “Yuck. I’ll sometimes eat salmon or shrimp, but only if it’s cleaned really well.”

  His eyes darkened and narrowed in focus. “What about filet mignon?”

  “Ummm…” His line of questioning was strange, but he no longer appeared to be joking, so she worked hard to remember the last time she’d eaten any kind of steak at all, let alone filet. “I like it okay, but I don’t eat much red meat. I mostly stick with chicken.”

  “How do you feel about Hamburger Helper?”

  Confusion had her giggling nervously. “What?”

  His gaze held hers for a little longer than the conversation seemed to warrant, but then he shook his head and muttered, “Never mind,” before returning his attention to Tyler, who’d jumped back to the subject of diving.

  “Don’t knock it ’til you try it. Diving can be the most fun you’ve ever had.”

  Wade snorted and muttered, “Not even close, baby. Don’t believe that bullshit for a second.” He cut his gaze to the side and looked at her through hooded lids. “He’s obviously doing something wrong.”

  Callie struggled to breathe as she latched onto Wade’s deep, penetrating gaze, and her mind filled with images of all the things he would do right.

  “Hey, you two listening?” Tyler’s voice broke the magical spell spiraling around them, forcing them to break eye contact and return their attention to him. Mischief lit his face and his eyes brightened. “I’m trying to convince Callie to go diving with us.”

  She wanted to return to the previous moment and the intense connection drawing her and Wade closer together, but she did her best to stay focused on Tyler as he told her about the shipwrecks he’d been in, the sharks he’d seen, as well as other marine life, and something about a cool reef. It was all a lot of white noise humming in her brain, but she’d succeeded in thwarting the argument between him and Wade, so as he enthusiastically shared his stories, she nodded and smiled and drained the last of Wade’s beer.

  Matt tossed Wade another, which he handed off to her as Tyler handed him a mason jar filled a quarter of the way full with an amber liquid. Wade, working on autopilot, took the jar without much thought. A few minutes later, seemingly realizing for the first time what he held, he shook his head and handed the jar back to Tyler—who’d finally stopped talking long enough to take a breath.

  When Tyler didn’t take the jar from Wade’s hand, Wade said, “No way. I’m not drinking that shit tonight. I have to drive, we have to be home early for work tomorrow, and my sleeping bag is still drying over the line at home.”

  “Oh, c’mon. It’s barely a swallow.”

  Wade dropped his chin and looked at Tyler from the tops of his eyes. “A swallow is all it takes.”

  “What is it?”

  Callie leaned forward for a better look, but before she got too close, Wade stretched his arm all the way out to the side, keeping the jar away from her like the liquid was a poison he feared. “Nothing good.”

  “What? It’s great.” Alex grinned at Callie. “It’s apple pie wine.”

  Wade barked out a laugh. “And you’re a liar. That is not wine.”

  Alex drank from an identical jar and licked his lips. “I’m not lying about it being good, though.”

  Giving up the argument, Wade continued to hold the jar but didn’t take a drink, nor did he ask for his beer back.

  As conversation between the friends resumed, she settled back down and became absorbed by the environment. The campfire flames performed a hypnotic dance, and the fire crackled and popped, sending bits and pieces of ash into the night sky, like confetti flying upward instead of falling.

  She looked to the sky, expecting a similar view to the one she had at home, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. She gasped in awe at the massive canopy twinkling over their heads. She wasn’t often away from the city’s orange glow and she’d never paid attention to the sky when she was. How could that view have been there all along and she never noticed?

  A gust of cold air swept through the camp, sending her closer to Wade and his body heat.

  “Are you cold, baby?” His mellow gaze was that of a man carrying a feel-good buzz, except he’d only had half a beer. The stress lines he often wore around his eyes were gone, and even though he showed concern for her, he appeared as relaxed as a person could be. He was as comfortable around this fire and took as much pleasure from being outside in nature as she did sitting at home with her blender and the television remote.

  “I was, but I’m okay now.” She wiggled and gave him what she hoped came off as an impish grin. “It’s a good excuse to get closer to you.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted and his lids relaxed even more as his arm constricted and pulled her tightly against him. “Yo, Matt, throw me that blanket next to you.”

  The blanket was transferred from person to person, and when it reached them, Wade switched the mason jar to the hand wrapped around her so he could use the other to spread the blanket over them.

  “No misbehaving under the covers,” Alex said. “It’s not fair to the rest of us lonely sons of bitches.”

  “Hey, I had you hooked up with our waitress last night. Not my fault you couldn’t close the deal.”

  Alex muttered under his breath and the other guys added their opinions to the matter, while Callie snuggled in under the wool blanket.

  Even though she didn’t want to think about it, she wondered where they’d been and if Wade had closed the deal with anyone. Before jealousy devoured her, she shut off the flow of unproductive thoughts and refocused on the here and now. She was the one cradled in Wade’s arms right now, and she’d be the one he took home.

  But what did that mean?

  She knew he was attracted to her—that was obvious, even to someone with limited experience—but something kept holding him back. He wasn’t willing to move beyond spontaneous kisses and flirtatious banter, and she suspected if things were to progress, she’d have to be the one who got them there.

  Not a good scenario for someone clueless in the art of seduction.

  The weight of the heavy wool pressing down on her made her more consciously aware of the delicious heat and solid mass of Wade’s compact body beneath her. After having been seated for so long, she’d grown accustomed to his hard ridges and was somewhat numb, so she wiggled around to wake up the nerve endings.

  In response, he stiffened and shot her a dark look she assumed he intended as a warning to stop.

  Funny thing about a warning like that. Rather than taking it as a sign to back off, her feminine instincts kicked and rejoiced in awareness of the power she held. Testing the theory and her newfound wiles, she wiggled again, slow and purposeful.

  A spike in tension tightened his muscles and his breathing grew ragged as he cut his eyes to the side and gave her an even darker, more heated look. This one didn’t seem to be saying she should stop but instead warned her of the trouble she’d be in if she didn’t.

  God, she wanted to suffer for the sin of pushing him too far.

  Her gaze settled on the forgotten jar still dangling from his fingertips. In order to keep driving forward enough to break through his barriers, she’d need to be bolder and more aggressive than her nature would allow. She needed to lower her inhibitions, and the only way that would happen was with a few drinks.

  Based on Wade’s reaction, the contents of the jar must be stronger than beer or wine, so even though there was only a small amount, it might be enough to give her the courage she needed. He’d made it clear he didn’t want her anywhere near the stuff, so without giving him the opportunity to deny her again, she slipped her arm free of the blanket and snatched the jar from his hand.

  “Whoa,” he said, making an unsuccessful attempt to take it back as she stole his move and held her hand to the side, out of his reach. “What are
you doing?”

  “I’m well beyond the legal drinking age,” she said, sounding way too prim and proper for someone haranguing over a mason jar filled with what was probably moonshine.

  He grinned and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Yeah, well, that stuff’s not legal.”

  She hesitated, wondering if she should heed his warning, but dammit, the new Callie wanted spice and adventure. She wanted to be brave and seduce Wade, but years of conditioning wouldn’t allow it without something to loosen her up. Without further thought, for fear of chickening out, she leaned to the side out of Wade’s reach, put the jar to her lips, and took a healthy gulp.

  Liquid fire ran down her throat, stripping away the protective lining in the process. Her eyes, throat, and stomach burned like a tree that had been struck by lightning. Her insides splintered and shredded and she expected flames to shoot out of her mouth or butt or both at any second. She coughed and sputtered, which sent the flames up the back of her mouth and out her nose like a fire-breathing dragon. An infection wouldn’t dare touch her sinuses for six months—if she had any sinus cavities left—and the rest of her body would never be the same.

  She gasped for air and handed the mostly empty jar to Wade as he patted her back like a parent trying to help a choking child. Her eyes watered so badly she struggled to see, but she thought one of guys grabbed a fire extinguisher while the other grabbed a bottle of water.

  Once the coughing slowed, Wade gently asked, “You okay?” His lips twitched and she knew he wanted to laugh, but he held it at bay, saving her further humiliation. At least for the moment. Later, she’d be the butt of their uproarious laughter, probably for years to come.

  She nodded but failed to maintain eye contact. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve listened.” She tried to laugh it off, but on the inside, she wanted to run for the safety of his truck. Of course, by the time she got there, the full effects of the lethal cocktail would hit and she’d fall flat on her face, thereby doubling her trouble.

  A bottle of water and a red Gatorade—that she’d mistaken for a fire extinguisher—appeared in her line of sight. Still unable to make eye contact with anyone, she smiled weakly and took both of the bottles. “Thanks.” She downed the water first, then went to work on the Gatorade.