Instead, he snagged a cheese ball from the plate and washed it down with a mouthful of beer while Brie nibbled on an onion ring.
She wiped her fingers on a napkin when a chirp sounded. “Grace said she’d text to let me know the dinner plan,” she explained, retrieving her cell from her purse.
He nodded as she unlocked the screen to read the message.
“Apparently there’s been a slight change of plans,” she remarked.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“They got tickets to the seven o’clock show of Cirque du Soleil.”
He glanced at his watch. “You have to go now?”
She shook her head. “No, they only got two tickets.”
“Your friends didn’t get one for you?”
“Grace said there were only two available, but Grace has a habit of thinking she knows what’s best for her friends without consulting them.”
It took him a moment to read between the lines. “You think she didn’t try to get you a ticket?”
“She feels pretty strongly that I need to spend some time with you, to achieve relationship closure in order to move on with my life.”
Which was similar to what his brother had said, so maybe there was some validity to the argument. “Is that what you want—to move on with your life?” he asked.
“It’s been seven years,” she reminded him. “I think I need to move on with my life. We both do.”
“How do you know I haven’t?” he challenged.
“Maybe you have. But the fact that you’re here with me now would suggest otherwise.”
He nodded in acknowledgment of her point. “I guess I just always thought—hoped—that you’d eventually come back to Haven and we’d work things out.”
“There’s nothing left to work out,” she said gently.
“Do you really believe that?”
“It’s been seven years,” she said again.
“Which doesn’t answer my question,” he noted.
He was right, of course, but Brie hadn’t expected him to pick up on her effort to sidestep his query. In her admittedly limited experience, men weren’t usually very intuitive. But Caleb had always been more attuned to her thoughts and feelings than anyone else she’d ever known.
And because she still didn’t know how to answer his question, she tried to buy herself another few seconds by lifting her glass to her lips again—only to discover that it was empty.
As if on cue, the waitress appeared. “Can I get you another glass of wine?”
“Just the bill, please,” Caleb said, before Brie had a chance to nod her head.
“Of course,” the server agreed, and hurried away.
“Maybe I did want another glass of wine,” Brie said.
“You can have one with dinner,” he told her.
“We still have half a plate of appetizers right here,” she pointed out.
“I need real food,” he said.
“This tastes real to me,” she said, selecting another onion ring.
“Does it taste like steak?”
She dropped the onion ring back onto the plate.
He grinned. “Let’s take a walk, darlin’.”
Since her plans for a girls’ dinner had fallen by the wayside, she decided there was no harm in sharing a meal with an old friend—even if that old friend was also her ex-husband. So after Caleb signed the check, they headed out to the strip.
But he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to find a restaurant, and he held her hand as they weaved through the crowds.
“So I don’t lose you,” he explained, when he linked their fingers together.
And because it felt both natural and comfortable to hold his hand, she didn’t protest. Or point out that they’d lost one another a lot of years before.
They talked while they walked—casual conversation about mutual acquaintances and family members. The initial awkwardness had passed and being with him felt easy and familiar again. It also made Brie remember all the good times they’d shared, and that enticed her imagination to wander down the dangerously tempting path of “what if.”
They lucked out and managed to snag a table at Prime—a steak and seafood restaurant inside the Courtland Hotel. Caleb put his hand on her back as they followed the hostess, and even through the fabric of her dress, Brie felt the heat of his touch branding her skin and making her knees weak.
The small square table was covered with a white linen cloth and set with gleaming silver and sparkling crystal. Comfy armchairs were positioned on adjacent sides of the table, contributing to the intimacy of the atmosphere. Caleb pulled one of the chairs away from the table for her, and as Brie lowered herself into the leather seat, she found herself thinking that this suddenly felt a lot like a date with a capital D.
When they’d been dating, and trying to hide the fact from their respective families, they’d never shared a meal in a fancy restaurant. Because even grabbing a bite at Diggers’ had stretched their budgets—and set tongues wagging. Instead, they’d usually chosen to spend their meager dollars at Jo’s, where they could hang out as friends without anyone blinking an eye.
Brie had never felt as if she was missing out, though. And she’d especially enjoyed the times that they’d taken their pizza up to the old cabin at Crooked Creek and eaten it cold after making love.
She dragged her attention back to the present when she was handed a leather folder. The hostess then recited the drink and dinner specials and promised that their server would be over in just a minute.
“This is few steps up from Diggers’,” Caleb remarked when they were alone, the comment suggesting that his thoughts had wandered down a path similar to her own.
“It’s very nice,” she agreed, opening her menu to peruse the offerings.
“Of course, you must dine in fancy restaurants all the time in New York.”
“I go out to eat more than I probably should,” she acknowledged. “But rarely to fancy restaurants. In fact, one of my favorite places reminds me a lot of Diggers’—right down to the burly bartender.”
“I wouldn’t describe Sky as burly,” he said, his eyes twinkling with humor as they met hers. “Though she can definitely be surly, at times.”
“I was referring to Duke, not Sky,” she chided. The former was the owner of the bar and grill; the latter was his sister, an employee at the bar.
“Oh.” He nodded. “That does make more sense.”
Brie was smiling when the server, who introduced himself as Eric, delivered a basket of warm bread and a pot of whipped butter to the table.
Caleb ordered a bottle of Argentinean Malbec and Eric uncorked it at the table, then poured a first glass for the customer’s approval. He swirled the liquid in the bowl, passed it under his nose and finally sipped before nodding. The server then poured a second glass for Brie.
“When did you become a wine connoisseur?” she asked, when they were alone again.
“I’m hardly a connoisseur,” Caleb said. “But I paid attention when Macy was explaining the tasting procedure to my brother.”
“Macy’s the manager of the inn, right?”
“And now Liam’s fiancée.”
“Your brother proposed to a single mom of triplets?”
He nodded. “And if you think that’s surprising, you should see him dote on those kids.”
Except they both knew that wasn’t likely to ever happen.
On the rare occasions that Brie went back to Haven, she’d done everything she could to avoid running into Caleb. She’d been apprehensive about seeing him: uncertain about what to say, wary about how she might feel. And for more than seven years, her efforts to elude him had been successful.
Though she hadn’t been thrilled about making another trip to Nevada, she hadn’t anticipated crossing paths with Caleb in such a
crowded city so far from Haven. Now she was sharing wine and conversation with him, remembering how much they’d once shared—and how much she’d missed him when he was no longer a part of her life.
She shook off the memories and melancholy and turned her attention back to her menu as Caleb set his aside.
“You know what you want already?” she asked, surprised that he’d decided when she’d barely skimmed through the appetizers.
“I’ve always known what I wanted,” he said.
She felt his gaze on her and wondered—for a brief moment—if he was referring to something other than food.
“Steak,” he said, when she peered cautiously at him over the top of the leather folder, and added a wink for good measure.
“Oh, right.” She quickly skimmed the rest of the menu offerings, then closed the cover as the server returned to their table.
Brie ordered the prime rib with garlic mashed potatoes and pan-seared broccolini; Caleb opted for the porterhouse steak with a loaded baked potato and sautéed green beans and mushrooms.
When Eric disappeared again, Caleb buttered a slice of bread and offered it to her.
As she started to shake her head, her stomach growled in protest.
He grinned and moved the bread closer to her lips. She instinctively opened her mouth and took a bite. She didn’t think about the intimacy of eating from his hand until her bottom lip caught on the pad of his thumb.
She abruptly pulled away, her lip tingling at the point of contact. Caleb’s gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered as she carefully chewed the bread.
“Maybe it’s not all in my head,” he mused quietly.
She didn’t ask.
She didn’t want to know—or try to put into words whatever was still between them. Because she could deny it until the cows came home, but it was obvious that something still was.
Thankfully, Caleb didn’t seem to expect a response. Instead, he set the bread on her plate and drew another slice out of the basket.
“Tell me how you know Grace and Lily,” he suggested, as he dipped the knife into the butter.
She latched onto the neutral topic gratefully and spent the next several minutes telling him about her first weeks at Columbia and the development of her friendship with the other two women.
When the waiter returned with their meals, they stopped talking to focus on their food. After dinner, they lingered over coffee and warm apple cobbler with vanilla bean ice cream drizzled with brandy caramel sauce. Though Brie had insisted that she couldn’t eat another bite, Eric brought two forks with the dessert and Caleb urged her to try a bite, and somehow one little nibble turned into more.
She didn’t know what time it was when they finally got back to their hotel. She wasn’t thinking about the clock as they made their way, still hand in hand, through the lobby where enormous chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting glittery light over everything below. They skirted around the towering fountain, its basin filled with coins of various shapes and sizes, to the bank of elevators.
Caleb punched the call button, and while they waited for the doors to open, Brie realized that she wasn’t quite ready to walk away from him again.
She’d agreed to see him tonight because Grace and Lily had insisted that it would give her a sense of closure, but now that it was nearing the time to say goodbye, she knew she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. Not yet.
Instead, she kissed him.
Chapter Four
Caleb didn’t waste any time being surprised, because it felt too damn good to hold Brie in his arms again, to breathe in the scent of her skin and taste the sweetness of her kiss. Her lips were soft and full; her flavor was tempting and seductive—and somehow, even after so many years, achingly familiar.
The first time he’d kissed her, she’d been both shy and inexperienced. But what she’d lacked in finesse she’d more than made up for with enthusiasm, a quick and eager student. And while he’d patiently tutored her in the discovery and sharing of physical pleasure, she’d taught him something, too: that as enjoyable as sex could be, the experience was further heightened by emotion.
He traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue now, and she sighed, opening for him. He hadn’t forgotten what it was like to kiss her, but this present reality was so much richer and sharper than the memories imprinted on his mind and in his heart.
He wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer, so that the soft curves of her body yielded to the hard planes of his. Or maybe it was the heat generated by their proximity that caused her to melt against him as their tongues moved together in a slow, sensual rhythm.
His hand slid up her spine to the back of her neck, his fingers sifting through the soft strands of hair to cup her head as his mouth continued to move over hers. He didn’t ever want to stop—except maybe to strip that sexy dress away from her sexier body so that he could kiss her all over.
He would start with her eyelids, then the tip of her nose, then her mouth again, her chin, her throat, her breasts. Maybe he’d linger there for a moment, listening to her sigh and gasp as he licked and suckled her nipples before trailing kisses down her belly, and lower still. And then, when she was breathless and quivering, when she was as desperate for him as he was for her, he would—
Brie pulled back, breaking the connection between them. “I just realized—”
“That we’re in a very public place?” he guessed.
“That, too,” she acknowledged, her cheeks turning pink. “But also, I never asked if you’re involved with anyone.”
“A few seconds ago, I was very involved,” he assured her.
The color in her cheeks deepened. “I meant back in Haven...do you have a girlfriend?”
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I had a girlfriend,” he said.
“Except that I kissed you,” she pointed out. “You only kissed me back.”
“That’s true,” he acknowledged.
And then he kissed her.
* * *
This was crazy.
Brie knew it, but she couldn’t stop it.
She didn’t want to stop it.
Because kissing Caleb—and being kissed by Caleb—made her feel more alive than she’d felt in a very long time. Want things she hadn’t wanted in a very long time.
And right now, she wanted him.
He tasted sweet, like the dessert they’d shared, and a little bit spicy, like the wine they’d drunk. But mostly, he tasted like Caleb. Even after so many years, there was something familiar about his flavor, and that familiarity was both comforting and arousing.
She’d missed this.
Missed him.
His tongue explored the inside of her mouth, stoking the fire that already burned inside her. Desire spread through her veins, hot and fast, so that nothing seemed to matter but how much she wanted this.
Wanted him.
Was it reckless to succumb to the heat of passion when they were both likely to get burned again?
She didn’t know the answer to that question, but she knew it would be foolish to turn away from the pleasure she would find in his arms.
Maybe this was part of their healing. As a result of everything that had happened seven years earlier, they’d both been angry and hurt when they parted ways. Maybe they needed this time together now, a chance to finally put the past behind them and move forward, even if that was on separate paths.
He eased his mouth from hers. “My room isn’t as fancy as yours, but I can promise there won’t be anyone else in it tonight.”
She hesitated for only a split second before need pushed aside logic. “Lead the way,” she said.
He punched the button for the elevator again.
The doors whooshed open right away this time, and he gestured for her to enter. Her knees felt wobbly and weak as she stepped ins
ide, grateful that she didn’t have a chance to think about what she was doing, to question the wisdom of her actions or analyze her motives.
And yet, when she entered his room, she turned to him and said, “You do realize that this might be a mistake.”
“It wouldn’t be our first,” he noted, reaching for her. “I want you, Brie.” His hands stroked over her torso, tracing her curves. “Right now, that’s the one thing of which I have no doubt. But if you’re not sure—”
She touched her fingertips to his lips, halting his words.
“I’m sure,” she told him.
For the past seven years, she’d tried to atone for the mistakes she’d made, and she was tired of feeling sad and sorry. Tired of being plagued by remorse and regrets.
Tonight, she was going to take what she wanted.
And tonight, she wanted Caleb.
She realized he’d found the zipper at the back of her dress when she felt the cool air on her bare skin as he inched it downward. When the narrow straps slipped off her shoulders, he hooked his fingers in them and dragged them lower, exposing the swell of her breasts.
He dipped his head then and feathered his lips lightly over her skin, a caress more than a kiss. Her eyes closed on a sigh. His mouth moved lower, brushing over an already peaked nipple. He paused there, to lick and suckle through the delicate lace bra she wore, making her gasp as arrows of exquisite sensation speared toward her core.
Eager to touch him as he was touching her, she pushed his jacket over his shoulders, yanked his shirt out of his pants and made quick work of the buttons. He had a rancher’s body. Tough and lean. His skin was warm and stretched taut over tight muscles.
When they were both naked, he lifted her easily into his arms and carried her the short distance to the bed, depositing her gently on top of the covers. She drew him down with her, wanting to feel his skin against hers, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his body merging and mating with her own.
One Night with the Cowboy Page 4