by Jill Shalvis
“And I brought you coffee here so you wouldn’t have to go back after you had your meltdown over Dickhead,” he said. “Also a friendly gesture.”
“Hey,” she said. “I didn’t have a meltdown.”
He went brows up.
“Okay, it was a little bit of a meltdown.” She covered her face.
He pulled her hands from her face. “You’re there for Troy,” he said. “Like last night. And more than anything, I love that.”
“That’s not for you,” she said stiffly, still pissy. “That’s for me. And him.”
“It means a lot to him,” he said. “And me.”
Her gaze flew up to his and held, and then softened. “I’d do just about anything for him.”
Her eyes said she’d do anything for Tanner as well.
“He reminds me of you,” she murmured.
Grateful to see her warming up to him, he smiled. “Answer this,” he said quietly. “Why are you really here?”
“Because I live here. And the only reason you’re here is because you woke me up and made me let you in.”
“Smartass,” he said. “In Lucky Harbor.”
“You know why. For my grandma. I came to make sure she wasn’t losing it. She means a lot to me.”
“I get that,” he said. “But at least admit that it’s not all about her. Because we both know Lucille’s not losing it. She’s saner than the rest of us. She is, however, bored and nosy as hell. Separate issues. So other than the guise of making sure she’s okay, why are you here?”
“The guise of making sure my grandma’s okay?” she repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You tell me,” he said.
She stared at him. “You think I’m here for something else. Maybe to figure my shit out. But I’ve got my shit figured out.”
“Then why haven’t you been in a real relationship in the years since you were engaged?” he asked.
“Besides the fact that my job’s made me more than a little cynical? Hello, ditched at the altar,” she reminded him.
“So?”
She snorted. “Spoken by a man who’s never been left at the altar.”
“I was left by my wife,” he said dryly. “I think that counts.”
“But Elisa didn’t publicly embarrass you. I was ditched at the altar. Which makes me look pretty stupid. It means I can’t discern the difference between a bad-idea crush and being in love.”
He stared into her eyes. She actually believed that, as well as that she wasn’t meant for love. Which was bullshit. He’d never met anyone more meant for love—to both receive it and give it. “Callie, everyone’s allowed mistakes in the love game.”
She turned away. “Yeah, but I didn’t learn from mine.”
His hands settled on her shoulders and slid down to hold her hands. “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
He turned her to face him. “You said you didn’t learn from yours,” he said.
She blew out an exasperated sigh. “If you heard me, then why did you want me to repeat it?”
“Explain,” he said, not giving an inch.
“I fall in crush,” she said. “Not love. And then I try to make the crush something it’s not.”
“Eric not loving you back the way you deserved, that’s on him,” he said. “Not you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m sticking with low-key relationships.”
“So you’ll at least concede that what we’re doing here is a relationship,” he said.
She stared at him. “Maybe. But it’s not love, and it’s not going to be.”
He stared back, not sure how to argue that one.
“Is it enough for you?” she asked softly.
No. Hell, no. But because that made him feel like he’d just been hit by an M-60, he didn’t answer. Instead he pulled her close and did what they seemed to do best. He kissed her. He kissed her long and deep, doing his best to silence that little voice in his head that kept saying the right thing to do here was walk away…
But for the first time in his life he didn’t know if he could do the right thing, not even to save himself.
Callie couldn’t get enough of Tanner’s mouth or his hands and especially couldn’t get enough of his low groan of frustration just before he wrenched her sweatshirt over her head, taking her PJ top with it. Her bottoms went next, PJs, sweats, and panties all yanked down her legs in one hard tug. When she was bare-ass naked, he leaned over her and smiled a very naughty, very determined smile. Then his teeth closed over her nipple and a hand slid between her legs, and she gasped.
“Cold!” she said of his chilled fingers as they shifted, stroking the bare skin of her back now, sliding down to cup and squeeze her bottom, pulling her in against his wet self.
She sucked in a breath but couldn’t deny she was thrillingly aroused. Being naked against his fully clothed, unyielding body was incredibly erotic, and she clung to him as if he were her next breath of air, winding her fingers through his hair, forgetting about everything but this.
“Shower,” he said against her mouth. “I’ve made you cold, let’s go warm you up.”
Before she could say a word he stood, taking her with him. In the bathroom, he let her slide slowly down his body, eyes hot as he once again took charge, starting the shower, kicking off his shoes.
When he caught her staring, his eyes darkened even more and he yanked her into him while they waited for the water to heat. “What?” he murmured.
“I just like to look at you.”
“Right back at you, babe.”
She smiled, continuing to gaze up at him, memorizing each line on his face because this was going to be it. She knew that she couldn’t keep doing this and not lose her heart. God, she loved the way he looked at her, his gaze so fierce and intense, like she was the only woman for him. She loved the way his mouth twitched when he wanted to smile but was trying not to. And she especially loved the way his voice got all low and husky whenever he said her name.
She didn’t need to feel his body against her, hard, strong, rippling with power, to remember how much she loved it.
Or how she felt in his arms. Feminine. Desired.
Important…
The steam from the shower filled the bathroom and she moved to unzip his Lucky Harbor Charters wind jacket. Before she could push it off his shoulders, he reached into the pocket, pulled out two condoms, and tossed them onto the bathroom counter.
Then his jacket hit the floor. She peeled his wet running shirt upward, her fingers tracing his abs, his pecs, every inch that she revealed until she couldn’t reach any farther and he took over, tossing the shirt aside.
His pants were the next thing to go as he stripped in quick, economical movements, exposing his mouth-watering body to her in all its glory.
And there was a lot of glory.
He tipped her head up and then his mouth came down over hers, his tongue flicking out, tracing her bottom lip, seeking entrance and getting it when she gasped in pleasure.
His hands slid down her back and over the cheeks of her ass, lifting her off the ground and firmly into him. “Still cold?” he asked.
No. She was burning up. She could feel every single inch of his very hot body. He was hard and thick against her, straining between them ready for action, and she was just as ready. Hell, she’d been ready since the moment he’d walked through her door. “Not cold,” she said, and his lips curved against hers.
“What are you then?” he asked.
“Desperate.”
“How desperate?”
“Terrifyingly desperate.”
He lifted his head, stared into her eyes, and then stepped into the shower with her. The hot water hit her and only fueled the fire. Pushing him to the back wall, she plastered her body against his, rubbing against him, tasting every inch she could reach. It wasn’t enough so she dropped to her knees and continued her very important work of licking and nibbling.
The sound of
his approving groan bounced off the walls as she ran her tongue along the length of him and then sucked him into her mouth. As the water hit them she kept the pace tortuously slow and controlled, much as he’d done with her so many times now, quivering with anticipation for the moment when he’d lose his composure, thread his fingers into her hair, grab a fistful, and take over.
And indeed his hands went into her hair, but not to get a little rough or guide her. Instead, he pulled her away from him, lifted her up, and put his mouth to the soft spot beneath her ear, his lips applying pressure, his tongue reminding her of the wicked things she knew he could with his mouth. Then that mouth slid up to graze his teeth along her earlobe and down again to gently bite into the crook of her neck before laving the spot with his tongue.
Impatient with need, she pushed against him, dying to have him inside of her.
But he took his time, doing as she’d imagined, fisting a hand into her hair, tilting her head to nuzzle her throat.
His other hand teased her nipples before sliding south while his lips alternately nibbled and sucked, driving her crazy but not detracting from where that busy hand was headed.
Between her trembling thighs.
With one finger he traced her, gently rubbing up and down with work-roughened fingertips.
Her heart kicked hard. Her pulse was already racing, racing, racing, and she heard her own voice, hoarse with desire. “Tanner, please.”
But even as she begged, he teased. “You’re wet,” he murmured in her ear, a naughty accusation. “And not from the shower.”
She moaned, and then again when he reversed their positions and firmly pressed her against the shower wall and slipped a finger inside her.
“Tanner.”
“Tell me,” he said, voice thick. “Tell me what you want. Anything.”
His lips and tongue traced against her jawbone and made their way to her lips, but when she leaned in for the kiss, he allowed the connection for only the barest of seconds before he withdrew from her, making her suck in a breath of sheer frustration.
“You,” she gasped. “I want you. Here. Now,” she whispered against his lips, sliding her leg up his hip so that he’d have better access.
He let go of her only to reach for one of the condoms and then he was back, his mouth ravaging hers, his tongue pushing, stroking, reminding her of what he was going to do once he got inside of her. Her entire body felt tight, needy, desperate—until finally he slid home with one sure push of his hips and groaned her name.
She cried out at the same time, arching against him, close, so close to orgasm she couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but hold on. Knowing her body as well as he did, he angled her hips to his, purposely maximizing her pleasure. One stroke, she thought. That was all she needed.
But he held back. “Callie.”
Blinking away the water, she did her best to focus in on him, taking in the carnal heat in his eyes, his need for her, and, maybe best of all, affection. Unable to control herself, wanting more, she ground her hips into his.
With one arm wrapped around her back, his other hand tangled in her hair, he said her name again, his voice low, guttural. Raw. And took her where she needed to go. When she came, he rode out the waves right along with her, gasping her name as he sagged against her, pressing her into the wall. After a moment he slid with her to the shower floor.
They lay there entangled, spent, unable to speak or move a single muscle as the water rained down on them.
After a beat Tanner pulled her into him, pressed his mouth to her temple, and murmured something. It was inaudible but his tone was protective, possessive, and so sexy she shivered.
Nearly a month ago now, he’d asked her if she believed in love and her knee-jerk reaction had been hell no, she didn’t believe in love.
But the truth was, deep, deep, deep down, she desperately wanted to believe. She wanted to get it right.
She just didn’t know if she could.
But until that defining moment there on her shower floor in Tanner’s arms, she’d never really known that she wanted to. She felt warm and…sated for the first time in so long. Sated, but also afraid because she wasn’t going to ever get enough of this.
Of him.
“This changes nothing,” she whispered. And she had no idea if she was reminding him or herself.
Chapter 22
When Tanner left Callie’s place, he headed to the warehouse. He and the guys weren’t going to be on the water today. They were on their way to Seattle to look at a boat for sale.
Tanner managed to keep his thoughts to himself during the drive up there and boarding the boat. “It’s got one more room belowdecks than we have now,” he noted.
“Uh-huh, and you could use it,” Cole said. “So you don’t have to remember to shove something into the vents at Callie’s place.”
Well, shit. This morning when he’d shown up at Callie’s and taken her against the shower wall, he’d forgotten about putting socks in the vents. “How do you know who it was?” he asked. “Maybe it was Sam, you ever think of that?”
“You two sound different,” Cole said. He grimaced and closed his eyes, scrubbing his hands over his face as he swore beneath his breath. “I’m not super thrilled that I know what you guys sound like mid-throes. Jesus. Can we change the subject?”
They decided against buying the boat and then spent the late afternoon working out how to reconfigure theirs to better work for them. They were still at it when Tanner got a call from Troy.
“You might get a call from someone,” the kid said.
“Someone?”
“A mom. Not mine.”
Tanner wasn’t going to like this conversation; he could tell. “Talk.”
“I got caught where I wasn’t supposed to be.”
“Like?”
Troy sighed. “Like sneaking out of a girl’s bedroom window.”
Jesus. “Are you kidding me?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Good,” Tanner said. “Because what I think is that I told you to straighten your ass out, and it seems like you’re not even close to doing that.”
“I also need a ride,” Troy said, sounding unhappy.
The kid could join Tanner’s club. And Elisa was on pickup duty today. “Where are you?”
“The art gallery.”
“Be right there,” Tanner said.
“Problem?” Cole asked when Tanner had disconnected.
“Several,” Tanner said. “He got caught sneaking out of a girl’s bedroom.”
Cole grimaced.
“What?”
“You wouldn’t have gotten caught.”
Tanner blew out a breath at the not-so-gentle reminder that, if Troy was trouble, he was a chip off the old block. “Shit. I have to go get him. I’m going to do my best not to strangle him on sight.”
“Thought Elisa was getting him today,” Cole said.
“I thought so too,” Tanner said. “I mean, she hasn’t seen him all week so I thought she’d be on it.”
The situation was odd enough that Tanner called his mom on the way to the art gallery. “You hear from Elisa?”