AN HOUR LATER, filled with cake and cheer, a good twenty-five guests—family, friends and neighbors—gathered poolside as Sharon and Bob opened gifts.
All too aware of Caleb sitting not far away in an outdoor chair with a beer in hand he’d hardly touched, Shay stood behind her parents, gathering wrapping paper as it was ripped away and organizing packages.
Shay chuckled as her father, a UT Longhorns season-ticket holder, unwrapped his-and-hers Texas Aggie shirts from a former coworker. The principal of the school where her mother had taught for twenty years gave Shay’s father a huge supply of coffee. Knowing how cranky Sharon was without her morning caffeine, it was a gift meant to ensure another happy forty years.
One of the final packages was a large envelope from Caleb. Shay stared at it curiously and, unable to stop herself, cast him a questioning look. He simply smiled and sipped his beer.
“From Caleb,” Shay said, handing it to her parents, and looked over her mother’s shoulder as the envelope was unsealed. Shay gasped at the same moment her mother did…at the airline tickets and hotel vouchers for a second honeymoon.
“Italy?” Shay silently mouthed to Caleb.
“It’s a trip to Italy!” Sharon said to the crowd, who gasped, oohed and aahed. “I’ve always wanted to go to Italy.”
“I remember you saying that every time we went to Olive Garden,” Caleb teased.
Everyone laughed. Sharon blushed. “It’s because they send their chefs to Italy to train. It’s so exciting. The idea of being sent to school in Italy. It makes me want a second career as a chef.”
“You can take a class while you’re there,” Caleb suggested.
Sharon’s eyes lit up before she shook her head. “We can’t accept this, Caleb. No. It’s too extravagant. What about that business you started, the Hotzone?”
“I took several lump-sum, reenlistment bonuses and bought some lucky stock. Enough to leave the Army when the time was right to open the Hotzone. And I set the money aside for your fortieth anniversary years ago.”
Kent eyed a brochure for the villa Caleb had rented for his parents. “What the heck kind of stock did you buy, man, and can I get some?”
Caleb leaned back in his chair and set his beer on the ground. “Apple before the Mac craze,” he said nonchalantly, as if it weren’t a big deal. “I bought in at the right time and stayed in.”
“No way,” Kent and Bob said in unison. Kent quickly added, “That kind of stuff never happens to me. How much did you net?”
“Kent,” Sharon reprimanded sharply, “that’s rude. We have company.”
“Right,” Kent said, elbowing Caleb. “Tell me later.”
Caleb laughed and slipped one arm up on the back of his chair, his focus on Sharon and Bob. “This trip is the least I can do to thank you guys, considering you put up with me for so many years.”
Shay’s heart squeezed at the sweetness of the words that she knew reached deep beyond the gift, into Caleb’s soul. She’d never wanted him more than in that moment. And she’d never known just how wrong it was to pursue her interest in him, either. The idea that she’d kept Caleb away from all of this was hard to swallow. But when they were together, things like what happened in that bedroom always happened. The crackling intensity between them had gradually become more like firecrackers than sparklers.
“Son,” Bob said, “that’s what families do. It’s our honor to kick, beat and harass each other, and in turn, to kick anyone to the curb that tries any of the above outside our little unit. The only thing I or Sharon want is more of your time. You need to come out to the house more often.”
“When you get back from Italy,” Caleb agreed, “I’ll eagerly come by to be kicked, beaten and happily harassed.”
Kent offered to be lead harasser, and though Shay normally would have volunteered her services as well, she held back. History said the more she teased and played with Caleb, the more their attraction bubbled into demand.
Distracted, she barely registered the final gift—a bottle of wine from their neighbor—until her mother handed it to her.
“That’s it,” Shay called out and glanced at the sun’s rapid decline.
“Poker game starts at seven o’clock,” Kent added, rubbing his hands together and elbowing Caleb. “Time to hand over some of that Mac money.”
Shay sent Kent a warning look. “Poker is hardly the romantic way to end this day.”
“That’s what Italy is for,” Kent replied. “The way Dad plays poker, he’ll have won big, and Mom can spend more on the trip.”
“You leave tomorrow,” Caleb offered, “so you need to start packing.”
Sharon jumped to her feet. “Tomorrow? I can’t leave tomorrow. The house is a mess and—”
“I’ll clean up,” Shay promised. “And you can pack. A little party mess is no reason to miss Italy.”
“You’re retired,” Caleb said. “You can make the short notice. The whole idea is to get whisked away from your party like you would from your wedding.”
“I’m game,” her father said. “In the meantime, I’ll play poker.” He kissed Sharon’s hand and held it in his. “While you do that packing.”
“Bob!” Sharon objected.
“Kent’s right,” Bob said quickly. “I win on poker night. That means you get to shop more.”
“And if you lose?” Sharon asked, propping her free hand on her hip.
Bob winked. “After forty years, you should know I never lose.”
Sharon harrumphed. “You always seem to forget that when there’s bad luck.”
Bob pulled her into his lap. “Because I have a forty-year-old lucky charm.”
Shay smiled at the two of them, her gaze lifting and brushing Caleb’s—a brush she felt to her toes. They had to talk. But not here, not today. On the phone, where they were a safe distance apart, and she wouldn’t become weak. They’d figure out a way to deal with all this tension between them once and for all—and not by kissing. Talking. Yes, she silently vowed. Talking.
It was her mother that broke the connection, darting to Caleb for a big hug. Her father followed.
When the sentimental interlude ended, Caleb said, “When you get back from Italy, why don’t we plan a family outing at the Hotzone? Kent’s the only one who’s been out to jump. We have a huge grill out there. We can barbecue and make a day of it.”
“Oh, yeah,” Kent said. “It’s a rush you gotta experience to believe.”
“Sounds lovely,” Sharon said. “As long as I can watch from the ground. That’s as close to jumping out of a plane as I’m getting.”
“I might just want to try it,” Bob said, his eyes lighting up with the idea.
“What about you, Shay?” Caleb asked, surprising her.
“Shay’s been taking flying lessons,” her father bragged, before she could reply. “She made a list of a hundred things she wanted to do before turning fifty, and her pilot’s license is one of her top five to-do items.”
“Really,” Caleb said. “So flying lessons and what else?”
“It’s a hundred items,” Shay said, not about to reveal the list that had “finally make love to Caleb” in a high-ranking position. “Too long to detail. But I can assure you that skydiving is not on it. Flying a plane isn’t the same as jumping out of a plane. Somehow the two just don’t mix.” She hesitated a second. “Some things,” she added meaningfully, “are just better left alone.”
His eyes narrowed. “And sometimes, you just have to jump.”
“See now,” her father said, “that’s the right attitude. Sometimes you just have to jump, Shay. You’re always so structured.”
“Hush, Bob,” Sharon said. “I’m scared enough with her taking flying lessons. That’s daring enough for our little girl.”
Shay heard her parents, even the outdated “little girl” comment—she was twenty-eight years old, after all. But it was Caleb’s words that had her mentally shaking cobwebs from her brain. Sometimes you just have to jump, he’d sa
id. The past fluttered through her mind, the times Caleb had been home. When she’d pulled away, he’d pulled her back. When he’d pulled away, as he had today, she’d pulled him back. This was a tug-of-war cycle, and until now, she had never recognized it. She doubted he did because only an hour before, she knew he’d been thankful for Kent’s interruption. Now he was pursuing, and he melted her resolve all too easily.
She straightened her spine, trying to get them to the same place at the same time for once. “When you have to push the person out the door, it’s better to leave them on the ground.”
“You can jump tandem with me,” Caleb suggested. “We attach a harness and jump together.”
Kent snorted. “She’s accident-prone. She might drag you down with her, Caleb.”
“I am not accident-prone,” she scoffed.
“Think jeans in the oven,” Kent teased.
With a growl, Shay grabbed the bottle of wine and moved it to the pile of presents, needing something to do with her hands besides punch her brother. And despite swearing she wouldn’t respond to his childish teasing, she couldn’t resist an opening when he gave it to her. “That’s me. Accident-prone. I can see it now. I’ll be attached to Caleb with some fancy harness and the chute won’t open. Then we both crash onto the hard ground and die horrific deaths.”
“Oh, goodness,” Sharon said. “Can we not talk about this? I finally have Caleb home, out of a war zone. I don’t want to start thinking about the dangers of any of you crashing to the ground and dying.”
“No one is crashing to the ground and dying,” Shay assured her. “Caleb knows what he’s doing, with the exception of his suggestion that I jump with him. Fortunately, I have enough sanity for both of us. I’m not even considering it.” She held the wine up. “I’ll go chill this wine in case you want some later.” She wiggled a brow. “When you and Dad are alone.” She needed a breather away from Caleb, away from watchful eyes.
Shay headed for the house, deeming it time to change clothes now that pool-time was over. Maybe take a quick shower. Walking around half-dressed wasn’t helping her avoid Caleb.
Almost instantly though, her nerves tingled, and she knew, even before he spoke, that Caleb had followed. She could feel him. She could always feel him.
“Hold up,” he said. “I’ll help you.” He fell into step beside her as they approached the patio leading to the kitchen.
“What are you doing, Caleb?” she asked softly. “I don’t need help chilling a bottle of wine. I thought the idea was to stay away from each other?”
“Funny,” he said. “I remember you saying something about Adam and Eve and the forbidden kiss, which I’ve spent the past hour considering.” He reached in front of her and opened the sliding glass door, mischief in his eyes as he waved her forward. “Ladies first.”
“There’s nothing to consider, Caleb,” she said. “You do remember the part of my comparison that made it as insane as me tandem-jumping out of a plane with you? The part where Adam ate the apple and doomed mankind?”
“Fortunately, I doubt we wield power over mankind,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but realized this was, indeed, a conversation best had inside—away from prying eyes. Shay shoved aside the heavy beige curtain that had been left in place to keep the house cool. A blast of air-conditioning washed over her hot skin and she welcomed it—and not because of the sun. Because Caleb was on her heels, the door already shut behind him. The house was silent but for Caleb’s boots clicking on the ceramic tile, warning her there was no escape.
Shay yanked open the fridge and shoved the wine inside. She turned to find Caleb leaning on the kitchen island, a step away. “You’re in my personal space,” she said. “A good way to get some of that attention you claim you don’t want.”
“Maybe I want you in my personal space.”
“Until someone shows up.”
His lips—those full sensual lips—offered a hint of a smile…the “hint” being oh, so sexy. “I know a way around that,” he promised.
“Do I dare ask?”
“Better I demonstrated,” he assured her. And then, in a flash, he tugged her into the pantry and shut the door. A second later, the impossible happened. Caleb kissed her.
5
HE’D BEEN SEDUCED by watching her beside the pool, eating cake, laughing with family. Being her. That’s all Shay had to do to tear down his resolve to stay hands-off, and she’d done it in a mere hour. A pretty quick turnaround unless one considered it had been ten years in the making. And he wasn’t giving either of them time to think. They’d done enough of that. Done enough stalling and lusting, and as for himself, he’d had enough time to change his mind—or hers.
She tasted like chocolate icing with a hint of salt and sunshine. Addictive. Perfect. Her tongue was tentative at first, her body stiff. Until she melted—melted like that icing had in the hot Texas sun by the pool. And there was no doubt—this kiss was everything he’d expected and more. This kiss was a kiss that demanded more, because it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a doorway to long-suppressed passion. It was the beginning.
Shay knew it, too—he sensed it in her increasing response. The way she lifted to her toes, the way her tongue softly caressed and then reached deeper, seeking more. He slanted his mouth over hers, giving her what she requested. Her reply was a delicate purring sound deep in her throat, barely audible, but so seductive. Her fingers walked up his chest and twined behind his neck, her chest hugging his. Their hips aligned and, yes, he was hard again. A half-naked Shay, kissing him like there was no tomorrow, could have gotten him hard behind enemy lines, under fire. Instead, they were isolated, in a dark pantry, which was enhancing the sense of taste and touch. He told himself to pull away, to drag her out of the pantry before they were discovered. This was meant to be a quick kiss, the kiss that tore down barriers and took them beyond the “what if?” to “what next?”
She had him vibrating with need. He hesitated. Actually, it was one of his hips vibrating. Like… Shay tore her mouth from his. “Phone,” she whispered and reached for her hip, the one resting against his vibrating one.
Okay. Maybe the kiss wasn’t as good for her as it was for him, because she was actually planning to answer the call.
Her hand flattened on his chest, and she answered his unspoken worries, as if she sensed his thoughts. “I have my service on a special vibrate alarm. I’m not on call. They wouldn’t call unless it’s urgent.”
Understanding inked into his mind about the same moment she reached for the door. She was about to exit when she leaned back toward him and pointed. “We…we…” Exasperation laced her voice, the darkness shrouding her features. “I don’t know what to say.”
She opened the door and darted out. Caleb was about to follow when it slammed on him. He grimaced about the time Kent’s voice filtered through the air. “We decided to start the poker game early. Where’s Caleb? We want his dime involved.”
Oh, crap. The poker game was at the kitchen table, the eat-in table by the patio door overlooking the kitchen. Shay wasn’t trapped, but he was.
“Where is he?” Kent asked.
“In the pantry,” Shay said matter-of-factly.
“Why the heck is he in the pantry?”
“He went in to look for the cookies Mom made for him,” she said, and instantly a lightbulb went off in Caleb’s mind. He flipped the light on and started looking for the Tupperware container Sharon always hid his cookies in so Kent wouldn’t eat them all. He found it on the second shelf and opened the lid.
“That doesn’t explain why the door is shut,” Kent said, suspicious.
“I shut him in to shut him up. He’s a nag, like you. I have to call my service. I have some sort of emergency.”
Caleb opened the door with a cookie in his mouth as Shay headed down the hall, phone in hand. “This is Dr. Shay White,” she was saying.
Caleb eyed Kent. “Don’t even think about touching my cookies.”
Kent laughed and walked toward him, determined to snatch a cookie. “You can bet them on a hand of poker.”
“Forget it,” Caleb said. He’d never been a lucky poker player. The question was, had his gamble with Shay paid off? And how long was it going to be before he could get her alone and find out? He’d come too far to turn back. Soon, he vowed. Tonight, if he had his way. Though it hadn’t been planned like that, her parents would be gone for almost two weeks. A perfect time to get the apple off the tree, and then reattach it permanently. He and Shay were going to work off the fascination. It was a better plan than walking around on pins and needles—the only plan he had.
IT WAS THIRTY MINUTES after that sultry encounter in the pantry with Caleb, and Shay had showered and changed, and still, her body hummed from his touch, his kiss. Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, which was attached to her old room and was well-stocked thanks to her mother, she dried her hair to a sleek finish…and thought about Caleb. Thought about the kiss.
Any hope that kissing Caleb would prove the kiss of the past was nothing but a blown-up memory was gone. Kaput. For the first time ever, it seemed as if she and Caleb might really explore what was between them. And for the first time ever, she realized if it went wrong, the divide between them, and him and the family, could become too much to recover. She was terrified, which was an unexpected reaction to something she’d believed she wanted. But this was real, not fantasy, and there was a lot on the line.
A flashback of Caleb pulling her into the pantry played in her head. Of the feel of his hard body pressed to her. Good gosh, she was a mess. Shay leaned on the sink and turned off the dryer. Her eyes were glossy with the memory, and she could still taste him on her lips, still feel his hands on her body. His hot-and-cold routine had officially reached extreme levels and so had her body’s demand for satisfaction. Hot and cold, she reminded herself. Whatever got into Caleb in that kitchen wouldn’t last. There was no reason to panic. They would put this behind them like they had every other “almost” moment, despite the fact that this time didn’t exactly rank as an “almost” worthy event.
Breathless Descent Page 4
