by Kaitlyn Rice
She shouldn’t accept that status.
LeeAnn must have recognized the truth, too. She and the mandolin player had played an entire song standing eye-to-eye, making a show of a flirtation that wowed most of the crowd. At the end, LeeAnn laughed and kissed Todd right on the mouth.
Ethan was trying to comprehend his reaction to that—amusement rather than jealousy—when Callie’s chuckle snagged his attention.
She wasn’t watching the drama onstage.
She was watching him.
“My sisters gave me a hard time on the phone,” she said during a short break between songs.
“Both of them?” Ethan asked, chuckling. He’d expect Josie to tease, but not Isabel.
“Mmm-hmm. Isabel gloated because she’d already suggested that I’d be staying in Wichita longer than I thought.”
Ethan kept smiling. Callie’s beer had loosened her up. “What did Josie say?”
“I didn’t speak to her, but I heard her humming a particular song in the background.”
River’s Bend started playing again, so Ethan spoke louder. “What song?”
“‘Tonight’s the Night.’”
The song title brought sobering thoughts to Ethan’s mind.
Callie leaned forward, speaking into his ear. “They think they know me better than I know myself.”
The feel of her breath on his ear distracted him plenty, but Ethan was still interested in what she’d said. He hoped her sisters did know her that well.
“When you get home, tell them I twisted your arm and made you go out with me,” he said, also leaning close.
Couples had begun to dance between the tables, and Callie watched wistfully. In taking the Blume girls’ entire education into her hands, Ella had done well. But she’d either forgotten about music, or she’d decided it wasn’t worth her time. The girls hadn’t learned to appreciate music until they were old enough to battle Ella.
Callie might feel the influence of the music as much as anyone, but she contented herself with watching the dancing. They’d always talked about taking lessons.
He wished they had. He wanted to dance with her. Maybe he should just ask. She moved well enough sitting in her seat. She’d do fine.
Ethan remembered where he was, glanced at the stage and discovered LeeAnn watching him. She might have flaunted her interest in the mandolin player, but Ethan hadn’t intended to reveal his attraction to Callie.
Maybe he was doing that now, however unintentionally.
Maybe he should admit to himself that the failed relationship was his with LeeAnn.
Maybe he should get Callie out of here.
He glanced at her, considering how he should suggest their departure, and noticed her eyes and lips.
Really noticed them.
Everything else be damned, he wanted to kiss her here and now. Whatever was prompting her resistance to him, it wasn’t that she was involved with some other man. That much was obvious. And he suspected that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “Ready to go?” he asked.
She was halfway out of her seat before she remembered to act surprised. “Now?” she asked huskily.
He didn’t buy it. He simply smiled at her, took her hand and led her from the club. He’d talk to LeeAnn later, but he suspected that Todd would take advantage of this situation and stick very near to his fiddle-playing friend. Maybe they’d go dancing together.
Callie stayed quiet on the way home. He was glad. He wanted her too intensely to chat or laugh or pretend or do anything but want her. At home, he parked in his garage and got out, closing the garage door and walking into his house. He didn’t mention Callie’s rental car, still at the curb, or the idea of her returning to Augusta tonight.
He simply entered his kitchen, hoping to heck she was following him.
She was.
He dropped his keys and wallet on the counter, then took her purse and set it there, too. Finally, he looped his arms behind Callie’s knees and waist, picking her up to carry her straight through to his bed.
No words.
No spoken questions.
No hesitations.
Somewhere between the kitchen and his bed, he touched his mouth to hers, but restrained his full passion so he could avoid bumping into walls and furniture.
Callie slid a hand through his hair, holding his face captive, and kissed him more deeply. Her parted lips and evocative murmurs made him wonder how he would find his way.
He managed.
He eased Callie across his mattress and followed without ever allowing a space between them. He claimed her mouth again, kissing her with an eager heart and a sensual tongue. He claimed her body just as urgently, unbuttoning her shirt and sliding a hand beneath her bra to peel it upward. Palming her breasts possessively.
Needfully.
Leaving no room for regrets or goodbyes.
He satisfied himself for long minutes, loving her with his lips and hands. Fingering her nipples to peaks that were darker and sexier than he remembered. Plundering her mouth with an enthusiasm he’d never forgotten.
When Callie shifted her hips beneath his, not just adjusting to his hardened length but also beginning a seductive motion, he finally spoke. “I want to make love to you,” he said.
She nodded.
“I haven’t had sex in two years,” he said, grinning fleetingly at her gasp. “Is protection necessary from your end?”
He wouldn’t have asked anyone else. Condom use would have been a no-brainer. But since he’d met Callie eleven years ago, she had been his only lover. Until two years ago, he’d been her only for all time. Since she was infertile, unprotected sex posed no risks, unless something had changed for her between then and now.
By God, he wanted to know if it had.
She shook her head.
Ethan saw beauty and pain in her simple gesture. He trembled when he kissed her again, more tenderly. He helped her remove her blouse, her skirt, her under things, taking his time to touch her more patiently.
He didn’t have to rush, or worry that she’d change her mind. They’d already spoken of their intent.
She helped him undress, too, kissing him all the while, and letting him feel the incredible sweetness of her desire.
Then he pushed inside her.
She felt so right.
Ethan was glad he’d waited all this time. Until he knew for certain that his time with Callie was finished, he’d wanted to be faithful to her.
When it came right down to it, he’d never wanted her to doubt his deep loyalty.
“You feel so good,” he whispered against her neck as he let her body adjust to his size and length.
“You do, too,” she said, but tears were beginning to spill from her luminous gray eyes.
He felt that intensity of emotion, too.
He kissed her cheeks, tasting the salt and licking it, trying to make her laugh. When she did, he ravaged her mouth again, turning up the heat of eroticism to erase her tears in another way.
He lowered his mouth to her breasts, kissing and licking her there, too, reveling in their responsiveness. As he focused on other things, trying to ensure her complete arousal, she grasped his buttocks and shoved her hips upward, taking him fully inside. Then she slid away from him.
Again, she drove her hips forward. Again, she slipped away. This time she moaned her pleasure. The next time she hitched her breath and sighed.
For a time, Ethan enjoyed the lazy sensation of allowing her to lead. Until he forgot about her breasts and her lips and fell into her rhythms. He took control then, loving her until he felt ready to go. Then he stared into her wet eyes, listened to her breaths and gauged her readiness.
When it was time, he took her legs and wrapped them around his torso. He drove deeper and faster, allowing the urgency to take over until her last moan became a shout and their bodies shuddered from the long, high release.
“Wow, Callie.”
“Don’t talk,” she said. “Just let this be what it i
s.”
He wondered what she thought this was, exactly.
He wanted to tell her he’d been wrong. That no matter how awful their fighting had become, he shouldn’t have left her. That he might have become temporarily disenchanted by her fierce emotions, but he’d loved her for them, too.
Maybe he should wait, to tell her that. Maybe he should begin to prove it first.
Already, as he rested his head against her chest and listened to her heartbeat slowing, he was beginning to want her again.
It had been a long time.
When he skittered his kisses down her flat abdomen to her hip bones and beyond, she didn’t allow him to stay any longer than one very intimate kiss.
Laughing, she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him next to her. “No. Not that,” she said, then rolled around on top of him. “This.”
They made love again, and Ethan thrilled at knowing he was loving the same woman he’d loved since he was old enough to make a mature choice.
Shy Callie had never been shy in bed. She made love like a smart girl who knew how things worked and never let that knowledge get in the way of her fun.
Sweet mercy, he loved her.
“Callie, I need to tell you something,” he said when they were relaxing again, this time in each other’s arms.
“No. Talk isn’t necessary. We just need to get this out of our systems,” she said matter-of-factly.
Ethan chuckled, then sobered. “You really think that’s possible?”
In answer, she slid a hand behind his neck, pulling him forward. “Maybe. You never know. One more time might do the trick.”
He pulled away slightly, studying her.
She was serious.
As Ethan kissed her, he allowed himself to follow her lead again, knowing for certain that this time, she was wrong. She might not recognize it yet, but Ethan believed they would reconcile.
She acted as if she’d forgiven him for being a man, and for living on after her mother had died.
Even for leaving.
And he’d realized that his strong attraction to her had as much to do with her complexity as her beauty. He wouldn’t lose sight of that fact again. The very intensity that had driven him away from Callie two years ago had made her unforgettable.
AFTER HANGING UP the phone in Ethan’s kitchen, Callie felt better. Luke had been fine in her absence. Josie might have bantered more than she’d talked, but her responses assured Callie that all was well at the apartment.
Callie hadn’t meant to stay, but Isabel’s solemn assurances during last evening’s phone conversation had made her feel comfortable about being out late. And when things had stayed hot with Ethan until she was too tired to think about leaving, she’d chosen to stay.
Just as she’d chosen to make love to him, these last few times.
How could she have forgotten how much she enjoyed sex?
Whenever she’d thought about her past with Ethan, she’d remembered the kissing and touching more than the actual act. Maybe because the infertility problems had made it feel too forced, toward the end. Or maybe because, in her mind, she’d relinquished that part of life forever.
If her relationship with Ethan couldn’t survive, she’d reasoned, how on earth could she expect another to work?
So she’d basked in the delicious sensations of her body’s pairing with Ethan’s, refusing to succumb to guilt about her time away from Luke or about Ethan’s relationship with LeeAnn.
Last night’s lovemaking had been his choice initially, not hers. She hoped he’d made it consciously.
Now she turned around, noting her purse, his keys and his wallet in the place on the counter where he must always leave his things.
The same place where LeeAnn’s flowers had sat just yesterday evening. That memory made her heart ache, so she lurched away from the counter and padded past the kitchen table, glancing at the clutter and feeling like a snooping houseguest—wanting to see, but guilty about her curiosity.
She wasn’t his wife anymore. Not really.
Her pulse raced even more when she neared Ethan’s bedroom. Callie paused, hand to heart, and tried to calm herself. She hoped he was still sleeping. She’d go in and hang his bathrobe on its peg, then gather her scattered clothes. She might manage to escape without waking him. At least for this morning, she’d escape his scrutiny and impossible expectations.
Avoiding those conversations had been easy last night. They’d been naked. Aroused.
Evasion seemed tougher this morning.
She stepped into the room and smiled at his sleeping form. They’d been awake so late. They’d made love again about an hour ago. After that last time, he’d gone to sleep.
She hadn’t. She’d lain awake, waiting until it was late enough to call and check on Luke, and worrying about how to handle the situation this morning.
Callie hung up Ethan’s sleek green robe. Returning to his bedside, she scooped her panties off the floor. Vulnerable in her nudity, she slipped them on, then hunted for her bra.
She saw it beneath Ethan’s foot, sticking out from beneath the sheets. She inched toward the bed, wondering if she should even try to get it.
Did she have a choice?
She could leave without it and risk having him return her lingerie at some inopportune time, or she could try. Grabbing the strap, she pulled gently, then watched Ethan slide a muscular arm toward her side of the bed.
Oh, no! Wasn’t he sleeping? His face was turned away from her, so she couldn’t tell.
As soon as she’d had the thought, he patted the mattress and turned his head toward the side where she’d slept.
Worried that he might note her absence and wake more fully, Callie hastened around and lowered herself beside his hand, closing her eyes and feigning sleep.
His fingers scraped through her hair, then he moaned. He must be in a light sleep cycle.
She lay still, feeling very much the way she did when Luke woke at night and needed the comfort of her presence. As if she was pacifying him, waiting until it was safe to return to bed or finish washing the dishes.
Or, in Ethan’s case, to return to her Denver life with the son he didn’t recognize as his.
When Ethan grew still again, Callie watched him. For the first time in a long time, she could look as much as she wanted. Even with his eyes closed, his face showed character. His strong jaw had a thick shadow this morning—he’d missed his shave last night—and only a trace of a dimple showed. His dark brown hair was mussed. His shoulders were broad, very tanned for mid-June. He must still run, sometimes, with his shirt off.
Beneath the blanket, his torso tapered down to the smaller, flat plane of his waist, then rounded out to buttocks shaped well from his years of running.
Appearances aside, she loved this man. She’d never lost that love. She’d simply lost faith in her ability to succeed at the marriage.
She’d always been an outsider. When she was very little, Callie had disliked the curious glances at the grocer or fabric counter in town. A few times, an ignorant child or thoughtless adult had commented on her homemade clothes or well-worn shoes.
More than her sisters, perhaps, Callie had felt the severe weight of her family’s differences. Even then, she’d sensed that Ella wasn’t emotionally stable. That she should have been trying harder to keep her children connected to the world.
For a time, Ethan had helped Callie connect to the world in a social sense.
When her mother died, Callie had been devastated. Perhaps she had let Ella’s old beliefs rule her thoughts for a while. Perhaps she’d forgotten that Ethan had had her best interests at heart, too.
As she did his, right now.
This morning, she couldn’t allow him to say anything about love or commitment or even regret without first telling him about his son.
So she would return to Augusta and figure out how to tell him the truth. Then she’d phone him, offering to meet him at a time when he wasn’t enticingly naked and warm with sleep.<
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He rolled over onto his side, facing her.
She noticed his arousal first. That caused her stomach to flip and her heart to flutter. Then she realized she could access her bra.
She sat up and leaned down to grab it, but Ethan reached out to run a hand along the curve of her hip.
She folded the bra into her palm and met his open-eyed gaze. “Morning,” he said, rich humor deepening his voice and lighting his eyes.
“You awake?” she asked stupidly, knowing he was but requiring a moment to adjust to the idea.
He grabbed her shoulders, tumbled her down and rolled on top of her. “Every part of me is awake,” he murmured. Then he bucked his hips to show off again.
She chuckled. She’d always loved that part of his personality.
He felt so good. Hot and firm in all the right places. Lord help her, Callie wanted to feel those sensations one more time. She could handle anything but talk.
“I thought I’d dreamed last night,” he said against her ear, then backed away to gaze into her eyes.
She smiled, shy in the dim light. Closing her eyes, she reached up to kiss Ethan’s jaw. Allowing herself to concentrate on her sensuality. Hoping to rid him of his desire for talk.
He slid warm hands to the curve of her waist, then fingered her panties. “Hey! How did these get here?” he teased as he tugged them down her legs. Dropping them beside the bed, he took hold of her hands, discovered the bra and got rid of that, too.
“Don’t be in such a rush to go,” he growled. Then he adjusted her hips, and with a smooth movement pushed inside her. Showing her the reward for sticking around.
At first, they didn’t kiss on the mouth. They hadn’t done that in the mornings, Callie remembered. The sex had always been fast and geared toward satiating desire before they showered and dressed for the day.
It had always made her frantic to brush her teeth and enjoy a really uninhibited good-morning kiss.
Ethan had rushed for the toothbrush, too, although he’d always added a quick shave so he didn’t scrape her face with his whiskers.
This morning, after a few mind-numbing moments, Ethan kissed her anyway. Callie didn’t worry about scratches or bad breath or what might happen in twenty minutes. She simply kissed him back.