The Perfect Indulgence

by Isabel Sharpe

  Eva snorted. “He’s a guy. All you have to do is say some variation of, ‘Hey, wanna do it?’ and he’s yours. Men are very simple creatures.”

  A vision rose of Chris saying that to Zac. Of his face darkening with desire, his arms reaching for her, his body backing hers into her bedroom, down onto her bed and—

  A sound broke into her daydream. Huh? What was— Oh, right.

  “I have to go. Doorbell’s ringing!”

  “Ooh! Go see who it is. If it’s Bodie or Gus, do not let them in. If it’s Zac—”

  “Ha.” Chris snorted on her way to check. “It’s not going to be Zac.”

  “It could be.”

  “You should have seen how he looked when he saw me with Bodie. Like he wanted to rip me out of the car and feed me to bison.”

  “Bison are herbivores. Who is it?”

  Chris checked the peephole and gasped, clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, it’s Bodie. Holding my sunglasses. I must have left them in his car. Talk to you later, Eva, bye.”

  “Don’t let him in!”

  “No, no, don’t worry. Bye!”

  Chris hung up the phone and stood motionless, collecting herself, feeling guilty for rushing her sister off the phone, and also feeling unbelievably fizzy. Then she grabbed the handle and swung open the door.

  To Zac.

  6

  CHRIS TOOK A moment to center herself before she spoke, only it didn’t work at all, and she ended up giggling instead. She’d just decided she wanted to sleep with this man, and here he was! Carmia was an amazing place. And she’d turned into a giddy mess.

  “Hello, Zac.” She’d tried to sound in control and deeply at peace, but instead she sounded formal and ridiculous. She might as well have said, Good evening, Zachariah. That made her giggle again.

  “Chris?” He looked concerned.

  “No.” She put a finger to her lips and looked around cautiously before she whispered, “I’m Angelina Jolie. Tell no one.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Extremely. Why?”

  “Nothing. Are you alone?”

  She was filled with excitement at the question, thinking he might be about to propose the very same fling she wanted, until she realized he wasn’t necessarily interested in being alone with her, he could just be asking if she’d brought Bodie back to the house tonight. “Yes! I’m alone. Did you think I brought Bodie home with me?”

  “The thought crossed my mind.”

  “Then why are you here?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Were you hoping to watch?”

  Zac looked surprised for a split second before he snorted. “I think I’d better come in.”

  “What for?” It wasn’t exactly a polite question. She wished the tequila would magically exit her brain. “Well, I mean, are you going to kiss me again? Because I’m not sure that’s a good idea when I’ve had a couple of margaritas or three.”

  His brow rose. “Only if you want me to, Chris.”

  Yes.

  “Hmm.” She backed up and tripped over whatever was behind her that was trippable.

  His strong hands caught her—not that she was going to fall—but it was good to know his reflexes were excellent in case she needed him to catch bullets or something.

  The thought made her giggle again. “You can come in.”

  “Thanks.” He walked over the threshold, making Eva’s tiny house seem even tinier. “I take it you had a good time with Bodie tonight?”

  “You know what?” She closed the door behind him. “You are so sweet to be so relentlessly and none-of-your-businessly concerned about my dates with other men.”

  “Yeah, I’m precious.” In the soft light she could see the tension in his face, which was otherwise irresistibly handsome. “How did it go?”

  “It was fabulous. Amazing. The best night of my life.” She gestured dramatically, gazing off into the distance as if remembering fondly. “We dined on oysters and filet mignon, sipped champagne and thousand-year-old brandy and discussed politics and philosophy and literature and music.”

  Zac’s eyes narrowed. He folded his arms over his chest, which made him look even larger and more stern, and which made her want to giggle and jump him all at the same time. Funny how he’d annoyed her at first and then got sexier and sexier, while Bodie had made her weak with lust at first sight, then turned distinctly icky. “Did he behave?”

  “Pretty much.” Chris brought her arms down. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  His body tensed. “What does that mean?”

  “Zac, Zac, Zac.” She sighed with exaggerated exasperation. “He wanted to sleep with me, but I didn’t want to sleep with him and told him to go away and he did. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Zac relaxed visibly. “Good.”

  Chris rolled her eyes. “Can I have my allowance now, Dad?”

  He glared at her. “If he had done anything worse than annoy you, I would have gone over to his house, taken his surfboard and shoved it—”

  “Ew, yes, okay. Please do not go on.” She held up a hand to stop him, secretly thrilled at his knight-in-shining-armor protectiveness. “Don’t need to hear those details.”

  His glare didn’t ease. “Are you seeing him again?”

  “Didn’t I say that was none of your business?” She jammed her hands on her hips and glared right back. “No, of course not. You and my sister were both right. He’s creepy.”

  As if she had super fairy-dust magic, his glare cleared. “Smart girl.”

  “Me or Eva?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you.” She walked over toward the kitchen, feeling euphorically light and free, but also in control of her emotions and the situation—the perfect balance. However, she had decided very sensibly that she shouldn’t proposition Zac while her brain was still ruled by El Jimador Blanco, since life decisions made in that condition were not exactly trustworthy. “So, do you want a drink or anything? I’m going to have about a gallon of water.”

  “I’ll have water, too. I’m not staying long.”

  She was disappointed. And also not. Being around Zac tonight, broad and solid in a blue polo shirt that brought out the intense color of his eyes... Well, in her margarita-induced state of weakness, it would be too easy to give in to lust and invite every bit of the inappropriate behavior she hadn’t wanted from Bodie. Too soon to make that call.

  Maybe first thing in the morning.

  “Come, sit.” Holding their water glasses in hand, she led him into her sister’s living room, eclectic and colorful, just like Eva. A drab beige couch was enlivened by a Mexican shawl, richly colored pottery brightened every surface, and a black-and-teal-painted table drew focus to the center of the room. Eva was the type of person who could buy something ridiculous, throw it somewhere and have it instantly make a chic and fabulous statement.

  Maybe Chris just tried too hard. Her New York apartment was efficiently furnished and color coordinated. When she got back she’d do something to make it more playful. Like install a full-size photo of Zac on the ceiling over her bed.

  She handed him his water and waited for him to sit, then realized he was being a gentleman and waiting for her.

  Hmm. If she chose the couch, he might sit next to her, and she’d be in danger of falling victim to the warmth of his large and deliciously muscular body.

  Yum.

  If she chose a chair, he would have no way of sitting next to her and she’d be in no danger of falling victim to the warmth of his large and deliciously muscular body.

  Darn.

  She dodged the issue entirely by staying upright.

  As did he.

  “Well.” She sounded ridiculously chipper, the way she always did when she was nervous. It was going to be very hard to keep to her temporary vow of chastity if Zac made the slightest move. Like if he blinked. “Was there any reason you came by tonight besides making sure I wasn’t conceiving a bunch of mini Bodies?”

  “Actually, I came over to apologize.�
�

  She stared up at him. “Apologize? For what?”

  “I have no idea.” Zac downed a gulp of water. “I was hoping you’d know.”

  “Me?” She was officially baffled. “What do you mean? Am I angry at you?”

  “Hey, I remember this.” He picked up an exquisitely detailed redwood carving of a sea turtle from the bookshelf. “I gave this to Eva when she first moved to Carmia. What was that, five years ago? Three? I’ve lost track.”

  Chris could cheerfully slug him. Did he know he was reducing her to utter confusion yet again? Did he do this on purpose?

  “What am I being apologized to for?” She frowned, wondering if that held up grammatically.

  “Luke and I had a talk. We agreed it’s a good idea to apologize to women.”

  Chris snorted. “That is sexist and ridiculous.”

  “Is it?” He tossed the turtle from one hand to the other. “I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” She moved closer on the pretense of examining the little turtle. “I remember Eva telling me about this and about you. She was sort of in love with you back then.”

  “I was sort of in love with her, too.”

  “But you never did anything about it.”

  “Nope.” He put the carving back on the shelf and stared at it, his back to her.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not Bodie?”

  “Oh, whew. That is such a relief. I thought—”

  “Some people you can love and still be satisfied with friendship.” He turned. “Others not so much.”

  Chris took in a breath that seemed to go on forever. How was it possible to have that deep an effect on a person with just words and a look? She felt as if she was slowly drowning, except this water was exceptionably warm and clear and sweet and inviting. Even her wise inner voice was waving pom-poms and chanting, dive, dive, dive!

  Or maybe that was just her hormones. She wasn’t going to listen to them. They’d been drinking.

  But Zac seemed to be talking about something a hell of a lot more intense than a fling if he’d mentioned the L-word. That was not her plan at all.

  “Zac, I’m sorry. I don’t want to get seriously involved with you.”

  His eyebrow quirked. “Did I just ask you to?”

  “Oh. Um. No.” Her face grew red. “No, but, well, you kissed me last night, and then tonight you showed up, and just now you said that about friendship and love and now I’m exactly the crazed babbling character I don’t want to be, and it’s all because of you.”

  “Maybe that’s what I was apologizing for.”

  “I don’t know.” She sat on the couch, plunked her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, stomach churning acid. “I just know I can’t think straight when you’re around.”

  “Yeah?” He sat next to her, folding his hands between his long thighs. “That makes two of us.”

  “Really?” She lifted her head, feeling a little more hopeful. Idiocy apparently loved company. “What should we do?”

  “I was thinking we should be friends.” He put the glass to his mouth and mumbled something very peculiar.

  She was sure she hadn’t heard him right. “Wind buffets?”

  “Uh. No.” He put the glass back down. “I said, ‘with benefits.’”

  Chris sat there stupidly for two seconds until a fluttery little dance started in her chest. But...this was exactly what she wanted. She and Zac were on the same page for probably the first time in their entire friendship.

  Still, hadn’t she decided she wouldn’t have a fling with him until she was sober? Her chest tightened. Her stomach went back to sick. Yes, she had. “Zac, I...think I need time to process that one.”

  “Understood.” He leaned in so his shoulder pressed against hers. Even that innocent a touch was sexy when it was Zac. When Bodie had squashed her against the front door, she’d felt a whole lot of nothing. “Unless we’re both sure that’s what we want, we shouldn’t agree to anything.”

  Chris nodded, relieved at how sweet and understanding he was being, and miserably disappointed because she was ridiculously hot for him and wanted his body immediately.

  There wasn’t a single other person in her life who managed to elicit opposing reactions in her time after time. She turned toward him and found herself staring at his beautiful mouth. “That sounds very sensible.”

  Sensible.

  God, she was heartily sick of sensible. Her entire focus of the past two months had been on trying to escape the evil clutches of sensibleness. Look how she felt now that she’d decided to ignore her pom-pom–brandishing inner voice and keep from jumping Zac’s delicious bones tonight because it was more sensible to wait. Sick! Tense! Miserable! How much more proof did she need?

  “It does sound sensible, doesn’t it.” Now he was staring at her mouth, which was practically buzzing with the need for him to kiss her. “So...I better go before I do something I won’t regret.”

  She giggled. “You think you wouldn’t?”

  “I know I wouldn’t.”

  Eva’s clock ticked off a whole bunch of seconds. A breeze fluttered the curtains.

  “Chris.” He leaned in a couple of inches closer.

  “Mmm?”

  “I’m not moving away from you, am I?”

  “Let me check.” She pretended to inspect, moving closer herself. “Hmm, nope.”

  “I don’t think I can. So it’s up to you to move away if you want. Because I’m going to kiss you.”

  “Oh, my.” Chris stared at his spectacular mouth. She could practically taste it again. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

  “It gets worse.” He leaned toward her until his amazing lips were mere centimeters away, and his warm, nongarlicky breath was brushing her skin, turning her slowly molten. “Because if I kiss you, I’m not going to want to stop there.”

  “Oh! That is worse. Much worse.” She was imagining his hands on her naked body, his warm torso lowering over hers. Or under hers. Or behind hers. Or—

  His mouth tasted just as wonderful as it had the other night, and the pressure of his lips ignited a fierce and primal response in her, just as it had the other night.

  But unlike the other night, they were on a nice soft couch, and unlike the other night, her defenses were somewhere down around her ankles. Chris wanted this. She’d invited this. She didn’t need defenses.

  He pushed her back on the couch—or had she moved there herself, inviting him along? She didn’t know. But the passion that came to life between them, her legs locking around his, their hips straining toward each other, that was definitely mutual.

  Also unlike the other night was the...the...

  She struggled under the haze of passion to recognize what it was she was hearing.

  The doorbell! Again!

  Zac’s eyebrows flew up, then immediately crashed down. “Expecting someone?”

  “No.” She held his eyes, breathless, not wanting him to move off her. “No one.”

  The bell rang again, followed by aggressive knocking. A man’s voice.

  Zac got up and headed toward the door, body tense, face grim.

  Uh-oh. Chris followed him anxiously. If either Bodie or Gus were outside, she felt really, really sorry for them, and really hoped that whoever it was, he hadn’t brought his surfboard.

  It wasn’t either Bodie or Gus.

  “Eva!” Chris stood stock-still before throwing herself into her twin’s arms. For the first time in her entire life she was wishing her sister wasn’t on her doorstep. Or on Eva’s own doorstep. Or whatever. “I was just talking to you! Why didn’t you tell me you were already here?”

  “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “You did, you did!” Chris laughed drily. Yeah, no kidding.

  “Zac!” Eva sent Chris an oh-my-God-you-owe-me-details look before giving him one of her passionate embraces. She looked her wonderful kooky self, with her bright red-framed glasses and a green knit cap over her blond hair, peacock ea
rrings that dangled to her shoulders and a polka-dot top over scarlet leggings tucked into black ankle boots. Strangely, for once Chris didn’t feel drab and boring next to her. Maybe the tequila...

  “Hi, Ames.” Chris hugged him hard. Funny how when Ames had been pursuing her in New York, Chris had found him cold and soulless. Now standing next to her sister, he was instantly likable, handsome even, with warm brown eyes Chris immediately trusted. What an amazing transformation. “It’s great to see you.”

  “Same here.” He turned to Zac. “I’m Ames Cooke, nice to meet you, Zac.”

  The two men shook hands.

  “So, what are you doing here?” Chris poked her sister in the arm, resigned to no hope of returning to make-out heaven. “Who is minding my store?”

  “Jinx is in charge, just for two days. Ames passed all the phone interviews at Great Grapes with flying colors so he’s here to meet the bigwigs for the in-person rounds.” Eva was on fire with energy and love for Ames. It was wonderful to see.

  But her message was somewhat less wonderful to hear.

  If Ames was hired, he and Eva would be moving back to Carmia. And if they were moving back to Carmia, that meant Chris would be moving back to New York.

  And if Chris was moving back to New York, that would mean her time with Zac, newly redefined and opened up to a whole new world of possibilities, would be even shorter than they thought.

  7

  BODIE SAT MOODILY at the bar, back at the A-Frame, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Chris had been so hot for him she could fry an egg on the sidewalk. He was sure. She’d done that same squirmy, pink-cheeked blush thing all chicks did when he gave them his Sex Look.

  Damn.

  Maybe she was playing hard to get. Maybe he should have been more persistent, though she’d sure sounded as though she meant no when she said it. But if he went back tonight and—

  “Hey, is this seat taken?” A blonde took the empty stool next to him without waiting for his answer, flipping her hair and smiling seductively, her breasts prominently displayed in a low-cut, clingy top.

  Whoa.

  Okay, never mind about Chris. He was good.

  * * *