by Zoe York
She could feel how exciting it was for everyone, and was thrilled herself, but nothing would beat the high of Will telling her they had taken top spot in the carry out. The way he’d looked at her—impressed—and how he clearly knew how much it meant to her to impress him.
How hard she’d worked to do her part for the team.
He saw her, right to her most vulnerable secret fears, even when she didn’t give him very much.
They spilled into the parking lot just ahead of the team from Bancroft that took first place. “I’m buying a round,” Tom announced, then waved his arm at the victors as well. “For everyone. One hour from now, in the hotel restaurant.”
Catie groaned as she climbed into the passenger seat of Will’s truck. “I hope a hot shower puts me back together so I don’t miss that. Right now I just want to go to sleep. Muscles I didn’t even know I have hurt. I’m pretty jealous of your jacuzzi tub right now.”
Will started the truck and turned his whole body to glance out the back window as he reversed. He braced his hand on the side of Catie’s seat. “What’s mine is yours.”
“No, that’s okay.” She shrugged, and her shoulder brushed against his fingertips. A tingle started under her skin at the contact.
“Catie.” He pushed against her shoulder gently, sending that tingle blazing down her arm and across her chest. His gaze burned bright as she re-focused her eyes on his face. “Let me run you a bubble bath. You kicked ass today. Seriously. You put in a hundred and ten percent. The least I could do is give you my room for a bit.”
“You’re sure it’s not an imposition?”
His expression softened. “Very sure.”
She sighed happily.
Back at the hotel, they walked to their rooms together. “I’ll just unpack and gather some things.”
“I’ll take a shower and change, and then I can go sit in the bar with Tom. I bet he’s already down there, talking shop with anyone and everyone.”
“Okay.” She beamed at him. “Thank you again. Maybe text me when you’re out of the shower?”
“Sure.”
In her room, she dug her last piece of pie out of the fridge, ate half of that slowly—victory pie, well-earned—and then stretched out on the bed. There was no chance she’d fall asleep now, not with the way her whole body was humming with awareness.
Will wasn’t her fantasy. He was just a regular guy, warts and all, who she had a crush on—for the third time. That part was a bit heady.
Was she really doing this again? Letting herself free fall into wanting Will?
Yes, yes she was.
When her phone vibrated, she jumped up. She stripped out of her worn-all-day clothes, then put on the bathrobe provided by the hotel, and gathered her toiletry bag and her room key to come back once she was all pruney and well-soaked.
Will was on the other side of her door when she opened it, his hand raised, ready to knock. His hair was damp, towel-dried, and he had changed into a dark grey Henley and soft-looking, worn jeans. “Thought you might have fallen asleep,” he said, glancing down at her bathrobe.
Did she imagine that it took him a minute to look back up?
Whew, she needed to settle down. Admit to oneself that you like a guy, and the heart starts galloping all over the place with want.
“No chance.”
“Good.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but stopped and turned back, leading her across the hall to his room. After opening the door, he didn’t follow her inside. “I’ll head downstairs. Come find me when you’re done?”
Come find me. Not us. Him.
She nodded. “Yep.”
He glanced past her to the dim of the darkened room. “Take your time.”
And then she was alone. She set her toiletry bag on the edge of the tub and tested the water. Extra warm, but not hot. Dropping her robe on the floor next to the bath, she turned on the jets and stepped into the frothing waves.
A groan ripped from her immediately. All of her muscles sighed as she lowered herself. Her feet pulsed, her calves and thighs strained, and her back tensed—and then, as one, they all gave in to the rolling pressure of the jetted water.
She closed her eyes and replayed the day. She imagined Will sitting on the side of the tub, hashing it out with her. Could they have gone faster in the hasty? We did what we needed to do. We did better than expected.
“Better than you expected,” she muttered out loud.
He would grab her foot and tickle it in response to her mulishness.
Fantasy Will was amused by her more stubborn traits.
When the jets turned off, she was surprised that thirty minutes had passed. She’d spent the entire time lost in an imaginary conversation. She scrubbed from head to toe, then drained the water out of the tub and used a sprayer head next to the tap to wash her hair.
She carefully left Will’s room exactly as she’d founded—the ghosts of her romantic dreams lingering, maybe, but she couldn’t control that—and returned to her room feeling much refreshed.
As she did her hair and makeup, she caught up on messages and made a few calls, then pulled on a pair of jeans and a soft black sweater. Touchable, one might hope, if one were a silly romantic.
Downstairs, she found almost the whole team sprawled out around two tables. Other teams were nearby, and she saw Lore and Yolanda sitting with the Bancroft team, sharing their pitcher of beer.
Will pulled out the seat beside him. “Do you want a drink?”
“Yes, sure.” She took the glass from him, and raised it to Tom. “Thank you for this.”
He tipped his glass back in her direction. “Thank you for everything you did today.”
As the conversation resumed, a similar debrief to the imaginary one she’d had upstairs, Will rested his hand on the back of her chair.
Would he have done that a day ago?
Had he touched her more today than ever before?
Questions swirled through her mind. She took a long swallow of beer, trying to chase them away, but no use.
“What did you think, Catie?” Tobin leaned in from across the table.
“About what?” She shook her head as everyone laughed. “Sorry. I’m…” Daydreaming about the guy beside me. “Tired.”
“And hungry?” Will slid a menu across to her. “We haven’t ordered yet, but we can. We should.”
She took it gratefully. “Thank you.”
“We were just asking about the day in general. Did we prepare you adequately for it?”
“I think so. It reminded me of high school track and field, but like, wilderness edition.” She glanced up. “I mean, what did you think, Tobin? It’s not like you’ve done this before, either. We’re all newbies at the competition, right?”
That made Will laugh. “She has a point, man.”
She smiled sweetly. “But you captained our carry-out perfectly.”
Tobin’s red face calmed down. “Team effort,” he said gruffly.
Tom lifted his glass, and swivelled around to wave at Lore and Yolanda, too. “To a team effort,” he called out.
“Cheers!” Everyone clinked, and Catie took another long slug before setting her glass down.
But after that, she nursed that one beer. They ordered food, and other teams came over to introduce themselves and congratulate the Pine Harbour crew.
“Will you be back next year?”
“Absolutely,” Catie answered before anyone else could.
That earned her another laugh from the table.
“A verbal statement is considered a legally binding contract in all ten provinces and three territories,” Tom said.
“That’s not true,” Will murmured in her ear.
Her shoulders shook with a private laugh just for him.
After dinner, people switched to harder drinks. But Catie just wanted dessert, not that she could get the waitress’s attention.
Will tracked her growing annoyance and leaned in. “You don’t have any pie
upstairs?”
She shook her head. “I ate my last slice when we got back, to celebrate.”
“All alone?”
“Celebratory pie never feels lonely. Besides, I had to call Sam.”
“How’s the store?”
“Good. He says congratulations, by the way.”
“To you.”
She elbowed him. “And you, specifically. He said that. 'Tell Mr. Kincaid I said good job.'”
“Yeah?” Will looked pleased.
“Yeah.”
He stretched and glanced around, then lowered his voice. “You know, there’s ice cream in the lobby. You don’t have to wait for the waitress to bring the dessert menu around.”
“What?” She stood up. “Let’s go.”
“Where are you guys going?” Tobin shouted, clearly drunk already. “The pool?”
“Emergency ice cream run.” Now it was Will’s turn to give their teammate a polite smile. “Want to join us, if you can walk?”
Everyone laughed.
Nobody joined them, so they left cash on the table to cover their dinners, and headed to the lobby, where sure enough, there was an ice cream counter in the shop in the lobby.
Catie carefully perused the flavour options. “What are you going to get?” she asked Will.
“Vanilla dipped in chocolate.”
Sounded like Will. She straightened up and nodded at the clerk. “I’ll have the rainbow sorbet swirl, please.”
Once they had their treats, Will pointed to the back door. “Do you want to go sit outside? There’s a garden behind the restaurant.”
She followed him out, then joined him on a bench. They didn’t talk, just quietly ate side by side. Each lick was a different flavour, which Catie loved. Will seemed to take his time with his cone, too. It took them ages to finish, but she didn’t mind.
She didn’t want this moment to end, either. So right after she nibbled the last bit of her cone, she turned towards him.
“I wanted to—” she said at the same time as he twisted, sliding his arm along the bench.
For the third time that day, his hand caressed her shoulder, and this time, it wasn’t a glancing touch. This time, his fingers wrapped around the curve of her muscle and stayed there.
The rest of what she was going to say died on her tongue.
He groaned, and the heat in his eyes arced between them, setting her skin on fire. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, dropping his hand.
Don’t be sorry.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
Time slowed, the air thickened, and her pulse skittered desperately as he didn’t respond. This was a mistake warred inside her with we’re just two dumb, horny chickens.
“Will?” She scooted closer. Now their legs were touching, her knee against his solid, well-defined thigh. She pulled her calf up onto the bench, turning fully to look straight at him.
He lifted his head. His eyes glittered, his temple twitched, but his mouth looked soft. Vulnerable.
Will’s heart pounded in his chest as he forced himself to look at Catie again.
“Fuck it,” he muttered.
She was staring at him, wide-eyed, her lips parted.
“I want to kiss you. Sometimes I want to shake you. Not often, but sometimes. But I usually just want to laugh with you, and most of all, I always want to kiss you. And I know that’s—”
“Then you should.” She squared her shoulders and gave him a defiant look.
Did she think he fucking wouldn’t?
But he wasn’t. He was still staring at her, even after declaring fuck it, which really felt very strange to him. He was a grown man. He wanted this woman. He should just—
She closed the gap between them, and his over-thinking brain finally, thankfully short-circuited.
She tasted like raspberry and mango sorbet, a bright burst of wonder, and the soft little inhale she took before kissing him back imprinted in his brain. She likes you, he realized like a dolt.
Then he grinned.
She laughed, her breath brushing his cheek as he gathered her tighter still, until there was no space between them, then he kissed her neck, her jaw, and her mouth once again. A wild sense of freedom settled over him, like he’d been holding himself in check for months, and now he could show her just how much he liked her, too.
He liked her a lot. Deep, hungry kisses levels of liking her, head spinning with desire levels of liking her, and he really hoped—
The door around the corner crashed open and people spilled out onto the patio.
Catie gave Will a wide-eyed look, a nervous, happy smile, and he stood, catching her hand in his. He pulled her deeper into the garden, towards the back wall of the hotel, and once they were safely out of sight, he pressed her up against the wall.
He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, her shaky breath, shallow and careful, then slower as she calmed down.
They weren’t going to be caught. Not that it mattered, but they didn’t need to share their first kiss with a group of drunk idiots amped up on either victory or defeat. He hadn’t even noticed if they were people he recognized.
Once he was sure they weren’t going to be disturbed, he kissed her again. Softly this time, lingering. Each brush of her lips and tongue against his skin did something heady to his soul. “We should probably…”
Could he invite her up to his room? Could he form words that properly functioned for an adult conversation about what she might want next?
“Right.” She put her hand on his chest, a flat, firm palm that felt almost like she was going to push him away, and his heart lurched. “Will—”
“What happens in Timmins, stays in Timmins,” he said in a rush. “We’re celebrating. Don’t overthink it.”
Her fingers curled, fisting the front of his shirt.
Holding on.
His heart lurched again, this time in the opposite direction.
She tugged him in again. “Celebrating,” she whispered against his mouth before pushing her tongue in and making him see stars. “How do we get upstairs without being seen?”
It turned out, it wasn’t that hard. His room key opened a random door at the back of the building, and the elevator was right there.
They didn’t touch on the short ride upstairs, but he could feel her, a hair’s breadth away. Her arm swinging loose at her side, her gaze cool in the reflection on the shiny metal doors.
What happens in Timmins, stays in Timmins. Why had he said that? “I—”
The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open.
She stepped off first, and his mouth went dry at the purposeful stride away from him, the curve of her ass in those jeans, and the straight stretch of her back. “Coming?” she asked without looking back.
Any fucking minute.
He swallowed hard and strode after her, catching up as she turned the corner towards their rooms.
“My place or yours?” he joked.
“Your bed is bigger.”
Fuck. She was just as direct about sex as she was everything else, and it drove him wild. He tapped the keycard against the door, and let her in.
The room still smelled vaguely of her shampoo, that citrus-sweet summer scent. He wanted more of it, more of her.
As soon as the door clicked shut, he wrapped his arms around her, not missing how she shook when he pulled her that final inch. Good, that made two of them affected by this chemistry. He molded her to the shape of his body, one hand low on her hips, the other in the middle of her back.
A surge of intense need roared through him as he brought his mouth to hers, slanting their lips together again. How right she felt in his arms, how soft and wonderful and good she felt against him. But most of all, how sweet it felt to finally be free to kiss her, to know the quiver of her lips as she smiled against his mouth.
He didn’t want to shake her anymore. He wasn’t confounded by her anymore. He wanted this, only this. Her lips between his, her tongue, tentatively eager. Her wet, warm,
sexy mouth, parting into a gasp as he showed her there was nothing tentative about his own enthusiasm for this.
When he finally released her, she gave him a tremulous smile. “Wow.”
Then she laughed.
It was a surprised bark, a short, sharp exhalation of giddiness, and before his brain could overthink it, she was back in his arms, her hands warm against the nape of his neck.
Pulling him in for another kiss, this one slower, languid.
And then pulling his whole body deeper into the room.
“I didn't see this coming,” she whispered as she pulled off her sweater.
“Didn't you?” Will filled his hands with her bare torso, his fingertips tracing the edges of her bra. “It’s all I've been thinking about for months.”
“Huh.” She tugged his shirt up, and he helped her yank it over his shoulders. “I thought my crush on you was one-sided.”
Will startled. “Crush?”
She giggled and tumbled back.
He fell on top of her. “And I thought I was doing a shit job of hiding how I felt about you. You thought…you had a crush on me?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I thought I was being so fucking transparent at times, and you were annoyed by me.”
“Oh, I was.” She grazed her fingers over his belly, making his skin pull tight, then she notched her hands around his belt and tugged. “Take these off. I’m not annoyed with you now, not in the slightest.”
He caught her wrists and pressed her against the mattress, wanting her to hold still so he could get a good look at her. But he didn’t have the words to explain that, or anything else about this moment, and how much he just wanted and needed her. Then she reached for him, and he wanted that, too. Wanted to fall onto her, into her embrace, and give her as hungry a kiss as she was serving him.
Her scent filtered into his brain, kicking his want into overdrive. He said her name as she kissed his neck, a whisper, then louder again when she shivered in his arms.
“Catie, I—”
“Me, too.” Her breathy exhale was followed immediately by her tugging down the cups of her bra, plumping up her breasts and revealing her nipples to him for the first time—an offering that made his mouth water and his knees weak.
If he only had one night with her, he was going to make the most of every single second. If this was some post-competition, adrenaline-fuelled celebration, and she just wanted his jeans off and his mouth on her tits, then he’d give her an orgasmic parade, followed by fireworks, followed by an encore that belied comparison. A filthy fucking show that would make her remember this night every time her head hit the pillow.
