From the Start

by Cheryl Etchison

  “Ready?”

  He smiled at her. “As I’ll ever be. After you,” he said while opening the door for her.

  She gave him the side-eye as she passed by him, and maybe he was hearing things, but he would’ve sworn he heard a low growl come from her as well. He closed the door behind them and moved out of the way as she pulled the coiled key holder from her wrist and locked the dead bolt.

  Again with the side-eye. “Are you always so damn chipper in the morning?”

  “I’m a morning person,” he said unapologetically.

  Then he heard it again, that low, throaty growl. Not unlike the warning from a feral cat telling you to back the fuck up because you’re about to get the claws.

  He followed her across the small lawn and down the narrow driveway past the main house. “How far do you normally run?” he asked while stretching halfheartedly.

  Kacie pulled up her leg and pressed the sole of her shoe to her backside, stretching her quad. “Usually I run to Daffin Park, circle it three times and come back. Works out to about five miles.” She dropped her foot and switched to the other. “Is that too much?”

  Michael scoffed. “Sunshine, I run twice that before most people get up in the morning.”

  Kacie shook her head and mumbled something that sounded along the lines of “God help me” as she continued on with her stretching.

  Meanwhile, he really needed her to hurry the hell up through the whole warm-up routine, because despite the fact she wore baggy running shorts and a tank top that looked like it had been picked up from off the floor and pulled on over her faded purple bra top, she was still sexy as hell. And watching her bending and stretching and stuff, well, it was giving him some dirty thoughts.

  Very dirty thoughts.

  “Aren’t you going to stretch?” she asked while looking up at him as she leaned over to touch her toes.

  “No need.”

  “You do realize improper stretching is one of the main reasons for injury, right? Surely they taught you that in medical school—or is there some mystical belief that your ego is a superpower that somehow prevents injury?”

  Now she lowered into a lunge, stretching her calf, which meant her shorts rode higher up her toned, muscular thigh. If she didn’t get a move on, he wouldn’t be physically able to run, much less walk. At least, not until he’d had his way with her.

  “I appreciate the concern, but I can assure you I’m completely warmed up and ready to go.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve already run today, haven’t you?”

  “Sure didn’t,” he lied. “I saved all of this for you.” Michael clapped his hands together, then pointed down the sidewalk. “Can we go now? Or are you purposely trying to drag this out until the sun reaches the highest point in the sky?”

  “Fine.”

  And of course the single word answer was said in such a way it meant she was anything but.

  Michael followed her lead down the narrow sidewalks until they finally reached the park where there were proper trails that allowed enough room for them to run side by side. He allowed her to set the pace, which was still slower than his average, but faster than what she’d said hers was the night before. When she suggested they do another lap around the park, and then another, adding three miles to their run, he got the feeling she was testing his endurance. Much to his delight he’d learned that Kacie was competitive, and damn if that wasn’t one hell of a turn-on.

  Their pace that final half mile from the park back to her place slowed almost to a crawl as the weekend traffic picked up and they encountered one stoplight after another, block after block. Such was the downside of running in town.

  They walked in silence down the narrow drive that led to the carriage house in the back, and the uncertainty of what would happen once they reached her front door overtook him. Never had he been thrown so off balance by a woman.

  Kacie unlocked the door and pushed it open wide, leaving it open in invitation behind her. Michael followed and closed the door behind him while Kacie was already opening cabinets and pulling out two large glasses. After filling them both with ice water, she handed one to him, then relaxed back against the counter. Michael drank down the first glass and quickly refilled it, then took his time with the second as he watched her over the rim.

  Her eyes were closed as she drank, affording him the opportunity to thoroughly observe her. He found himself entranced by the flushed color of her cheeks, the short strands of hair that curled at her nape, the droplets of sweat that raced the length of her neck only to pool in the hollow of her throat.

  Long, damp lashes fluttered open and suddenly those sea-green eyes were staring back at him.

  Fuck it. Just because she called the shots didn’t mean she had to initiate everything.

  His glass hit the counter and in two strides he was towering over her, his mouth crashing down on hers, his fingers tangling in those damp curls at the base of her neck. Her lips and tongue were chilled from the water, her hands cold from the glass. Michael lifted her from the floor and set her on the counter, stepping in between her legs and pressing his body flush to hers. But still he couldn’t get close enough, and wouldn’t be until he was inside her.

  The soft gasp that escaped her mouth was quickly followed by another kiss. Then she whispered, “I should shower.”

  In his opinion, she smelled amazing. But her words flicked on the proverbial lightbulb in his head because, damn, if that wasn’t a fantastic idea.

  “Okay, then,” he said, sliding her off the counter. “A shower, it is.”

  “Together?” she asked, clinging to him like a koala to a gum tree.

  He carried her through the living room and down the hallway. “I’m all about water conservation.”

  “But are you sure you want to shower together? I’m not sure that’s safe.” Kacie tugged on his lower lip with her teeth, then offered another teasing kiss. “All that tile. It’s so slippery.”

  Michael groaned. “If that’s your best argument as to why we shouldn’t, you’re saying all the wrong things.”

  She ground her hips against his as her breathy words feathered across his lips. “It would seem to me I’m saying everything just right.”

  After their soapy interlude, Michael and Kacie both collapsed into her bed and dozed for a bit, their bodies desperately needing rest. When he woke, Michael was immediately struck by a sense of déjà vu. But this time, instead of worrying about alcohol poisoning and monitoring her breathing, he just relaxed and enjoyed the view.

  She slept on her side, facing him, her hands tucked beneath the pillow she rested her head on. Her hair was damp in places and dry in others, the sun-streaked waves spread out in all directions. He liked how the strands weren’t straight but weren’t really curls either, wavy enough they twined around and clung to his fingers like vines. Her hair alone gave the impression she belonged on a California beach or a deserted island.

  He liked the faint freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks and the golden undertones in her skin. He liked the pale pink color of her nipples and how they darkened with arousal.

  Speaking of which . . . Michael tugged on the yellow-dotted bedsheet covering her body, shifting the thin cotton fabric just enough to expose her breasts to his gaze but not disrupt her sleep.

  And that was a tactical mistake.

  Because now that they were on display in front of him and not merely an image burned into his brain, he wanted to touch her and taste her.

  “Quit ogling my boobs.”

  Her eyes were closed but there was a smile on her face. He’d been busted by his not so sleeping beauty.

  “What makes you think I was looking at your breasts? And even so, I’m a doctor. You’ve seen one breast, you’ve seen them all.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at him with a look that said he was a lying liar who lied. And he couldn’t really argue. Kacie grabbed hold of the bedsheet and pulled it higher she snuggled into her pillow.

&n
bsp; “So . . .” He playfully tugged on the sheet again. “There’s one topic we didn’t discuss earlier.”

  “Oh, God. Do I even want to hear this?” She pulled the sheet free from his fingertips. “You’re not one of those guys who has a bag of toys in his closet, are you?”

  “I could be. Does that interest you?” He bounced his eyebrows at her and she decided to make a break for it. But since she was worried about modesty and tried to take the sheet along with her as she vaulted out of the bed, he was able to catch her before she got very far. She squealed and squeaked as he dragged her back, finally straddling her body and pinning her wrists to the mattress.

  “Oh, damn,” he said as he hovered over her, his mouth just inches from her lungs as they worked to catch their breath. “It appears you’ve lost your bedsheet.”

  Kacie narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”

  He lowered his head and traced her jawline with the tip of his nose. “I want to know if I can take you out to dinner sometime.”

  “Dinner implies it’s a date. And dating makes it a relationship.” Her breath hitched as he pressed kisses to the tender skin beneath her ear. “You need to remember this isn’t a relationship.”

  “What if I suggest dinner just because I’m hungry?” He gently tugged on her earlobe with his teeth, then soothed the bite with his tongue. “And what if you just happen to be at the same place? We can split the tab if it makes you feel better.”

  “I’m not adverse to food. I’m just against going out.”

  “And why is that?” he asked while moving to the other side of her neck.

  “Because I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

  Taking him by surprise, Kacie wrapped her strong legs around his waist and reversed their positions so that she now straddled his hips and held his wrists in her grip. That beautiful, wild hair fell in a curtain around them, and the scent of her shampoo tickled his nose. She stared down at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and one corner of her mouth hitched up in a smug smile. “How about we do things my way?”

  She locked eyes with him as she kissed and licked her way down his sternum, the strands of her hair tickling his chest and stomach as she headed south past his belly button. Much to his delight she showed no signs of stopping.

  “Sunshine, one thing is for certain. I will never complain about the way you do things.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A week into Kacie’s “diet” and things were going well for the most part. After jumping into the deep end of the whole friends with benefits, no-strings sex, whatever others might call it, she was feeling pretty happy about life in general. And as much as she hated to admit it, a lot of the credit went to Michael.

  Although they spent most of the previous weekend together, they didn’t tire of each other. Instead, they ended up seeing each other every night after work. A couple of times he picked up dinner along the way since she still refused to go out.

  When she was with him, she often laughed until her sides hurt. There was no talk of failed relationships, ill-fitting dresses, or jealous tendencies. There was no pressure to introduce him to her friends, coworkers, or family and vice versa. When they were together it was as if they existed in their own little bubble and the rest of the world just faded into the background.

  He’d become her little secret and it surprised her how much she liked having him all to herself.

  But instead of planning another rendezvous with Michael, she and Sam were driving west on I-16, headed for Atlanta, to attend a bridal shower Sam’s future mother-in-law was throwing in her honor. Their mother was also supposed to make this trip, but had come down with a terrible summer cold; she hadn’t wanted to spend her weekend sneezing and coughing on a roomful of strangers, so Kacie and Sam went on without her.

  For the three hours they drove the tree-lined divided highway, Sam and Kacie sang along to the radio, laughed about old boyfriends, and shared stories about the kids they grew up with. Occasionally, the flow of conversation was interrupted by her sister and Bryce trading text messages back and forth, but for the most part, it was just the two of them. One last little hurrah between sisters before they both went their separate ways.

  They wove their way through Atlanta, taking one Peachtree-named street after another until they reached the exclusive suburb of Buckhead. Kacie knew Bryce’s family likely had money. Just how much was something she hadn’t really contemplated—not until she drove her little Honda Civic down streets filled with Land Rovers, Mercedes, and BMWs.

  “Not this driveway,” Sam said, pointing to her right, “the next.”

  Unlike many other homes on the street, the gates sat wide open in invitation. Kacie stomped on the gas pedal, helping her car up the steep incline to reach the paved circular drive. She was so focused on avoiding the water fountain and the cars worth two years of her salary, she didn’t really take in the house itself until she parked and stepped out the driver’s side door.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered to herself.

  But obviously Sam heard her because she leaned on the roof of the car and whispered back. “I know, right?”

  One of the massive mahogany front doors opened up and Bryce made his way across the drive to them, his arms stretched out wide to greet his bride-to-be. Sam wasted no time, running to him and leaping into his arms.

  Kacie loved seeing her sister so happy and there was little doubt that Bryce was head over heels for Sam. But without warning, that little pinch of jealousy she hadn’t felt at all the past week returned.

  Right at that moment, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

  Make it okay?

  Just pulled in. And holy crap this house is massive.

  Kacie looked up from her phone to see her sister and future brother-in-law still playing kissy face, so she seized the opportunity to snap a picture of the front of the house and send it to Michael. A few seconds later his reply came.

  You weren’t kidding. Be sure to turn on your GPS and keep your phone on you. That way if you get lost I’ll have coordinates for a rescue squad.

  LOL. Will do, she answered. TTYL.

  Just as Sam and Bryce came up for air, Kacie tucked her phone into her pocket and popped open the trunk. Ever the southern gentleman, Bryce took their bags from the car and led them into the house. His mother, Gwen Elliott, greeted them at the door dressed to the nines and promptly began with the gentle hugs and air kisses.

  “Don’t you girls look just lovely,” Gwen said. “I’m so sorry your mother wasn’t feeling up to coming.”

  “Mom sends her apologies,” Sam replied. “She was really looking forward to it and just hates that she’s sick.”

  Gwen took hold of Sam’s hand and patted it gently. “Better she’s under the weather now than during the wedding, dear. We’ll have your parents another time.”

  With suitcases in hand, Bryce led the way up the wide spiraling staircase and down a long hall to their room for the weekend.

  “I hope you girls don’t mind sharing a room,” Gwen said. “I was going to give Kacie her privacy, but the air conditioner went out in the pool house and it’s just too warm to expect anyone to sleep comfortably out there.”

  “Well, if Kacie doesn’t want to share, Sam is always welcome to stay in my room.” Bryce waggled his brows, causing Sam to giggle like a schoolgirl as the corners of his mother’s mouth turned downward.

  “Now, Bryce . . .” his mother chided, but the two lovebirds disappeared down the hall before she could say any more. As she watched them rush out, she gave a slight shake of her head, before turning to Kacie. “I was going to tell them lunch is ready downstairs but they’ll figure it out. Also, there’s plenty of time for you to rest or enjoy the pool this afternoon if you like. Most of the guests won’t arrive for another few hours at the earliest.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Elliott,” she said.

  “You’re more than welcome, Kacie. And please, call me Gwen.” She turned for the door but stopped short. “Before I
forget, there’s extra towels in the bath. The TV remote is in the nightstand along with an index card that has the Wi-Fi passcode.” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll see you downstairs, dear.”

  With the bedroom door closed, Kacie looked around the room that was nearly the size of the carriage house she rented. Decorated in a serene color palette of blues and whites, it was elegant, but not fussy. One side of the room, with its oversized linen sofa and a wall-mounted flat panel TV, served as a sitting area. Across from it was a massive king-sized four-poster bed with layers of bedding and a mountain of pillows.

  Again, she couldn’t help herself; she snapped a pic of the bed and messaged it to Michael. She then wandered into the bathroom, where touches of black set off large expanses of Carrera marble. She snapped the oversized shower, complete with multiple body sprayers and a rain head showerhead.

  Her phone vibrated.

  That place is giving me all kinds of ideas. The bed especially.

  Pervert.

  Takes one to know one.

  Kacie laughed, shoved her phone in her pocket, and headed downstairs for lunch. Later that afternoon, with the bride and groom missing in action, she entertained herself by sending Michael more pictures. The first was of her reflection in the mirror showing off her new swimsuit. He, of course, asked her to take another—minus the clothes. The next was the view from her patio lounge chair, showcasing her cute pedicure and the turquoise waters of the swimming pool beyond.

  When the time arrived to shower and change for the backyard barbecue Bryce’s parents were hosting, she sent another selfie of her wrapped in a towel. Followed by one of the towel on the floor.

  Now you’re just being mean, Michael replied.

  She was smiling as she stepped in the shower and had the same look on her face when she finished. As she dried her hair and applied her makeup, there was a knock on the bathroom door. Kacie opened it to find Sam standing there with her shower stuff bundled in her arms and a sheepish look on her face.