Can't Shake You

by Molly McLain

Holy hell. “I’m, uh, honored?”

  To that, she laughed. “You should be. I wouldn’t do that for just anyone, you know.”

  While she went to work, shampooing her hair with her eyes closed, he was left to stand there wondering what the hell that meant, exactly. That he was special in some way? His ego swelled, but he promptly denied it. Don’t go there, dude.

  They quickly finished the shower, he redressed and Carissa went to her bedroom for fresh clothes. He followed after her, catching the last second of her shimmying into a pair of pink, lacey panties cut like shorts. Skimpy shorts, that provided a very nice, temping view of the curvy, lower part of her cheeks. He stifled a groan of appreciation. God, he loved this woman’s ass.

  She tossed a smile over her shoulder, as if she felt him staring, then kept her back to him as she hurried pulled on baggy white t-shirt and clipped up her hair. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  His stomach growled on cue and, given her soft laugh, she obviously noticed. “Apparently I am. Though I shouldn’t be. We ate like pigs this weekend.”

  “Really? No rations?” she teased, as she led him back to the kitchen.

  “No.” He laughed. “The guys decided to see me out properly.”

  Carissa swung around and pinned him with a questioning stare. Her cheeks flushed and, when her bottom lip trembled, she bit it. “What you do you mean?” she asked quietly. “Are you being deployed again?”

  He leaned against the counter, enjoying the concern in her eyes way more than he should. He liked that she was worried about him. Liked that she looked a little scared. What the hell was wrong with him?

  He shook his head. “No, my IRR’s just about up.”

  “Civilian language, please.” The unease on her face warmed that strange spot in his chest again.

  “I’m almost done with my commitment. Two more months and I’ll be free and clear of the Corp.”

  She let out a shaky breath and gripped the edge of the counter. “Oh. Good. I think. I mean, are you excited?”

  He lifted one shoulder and moved toward her, his hands going to rest on her hips. “I’m much more interested in your reaction. You panicked there for a minute.”

  She averted his eyes and glanced down at his chest, but not before he saw the extra glisten in them. “It was just...déjà vu, you know?”

  He cupped her jaw with his hand and lifted her chin with his thumb, so he could kiss her softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Carissa. Not unless you want me to.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for this to be over,” she whispered. “Don’t get me wrong, I know what it is and what it’s not, believe me, but...I think it’s possible for two friends to simply enjoy each other on another level. Don’t you?”

  “We’ll have to be careful.”

  “Of course,” she replied, nodding her head too eagerly for his liking.

  “You know it’s not that I’m ashamed of this. Of you. Right?”

  She gave a nervous laugh. “Not any more than I am of being so attracted to you.”

  He shifted closer, squeezed her tighter. “I’m serious, Carissa. If it weren’t for—”

  “Shh.” She hushed him, her hands coming up and smoothing across his chest. “I know, Josh. Believe me, I know.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  If she hadn’t gotten involved with his best friend, they wouldn’t have to hide this relentless attraction to one another. Not a single encounter with Josh went by that Carissa didn’t remind herself of that very fact. But her relationship with Reed wasn’t a detail she could change or take back and she’d learned long ago that time spent wondering about the “what might have beens” in life rarely rendered good results.

  “Maddie doesn’t think much of me either,” Josh said and Carissa recognized the meager attempt to assuage the truth for what it was—he didn’t want her to feel bad for creating the big-ass elephant sitting in the corner of every room they occupied together. Especially when Reed was around.

  She gave him a small smile. “You’re like an annoying little brother to Maddie.”

  “But I’m older than she is.”

  “Maybe she’s channeling Dan.”

  Josh snorted. “Yeah, maybe.”

  Patting him on the chest, she tipped her head toward the baking dish on the stove. “Shall we?”

  His stomach roared again. “I guess so.”

  She directed him to the cupboards for plates and silverware, while she sectioned the chicken pot pie and took the fixings for a salad from the fridge. “You want something to drink? I’ve got Corona, wine, Diet Coke and milk.”

  He broke off a piece of crust and popped it into his mouth. “Would you think I was a puss if I said milk?”

  She laughed and took out the jug. “Your secret’s safe with me, hot shot.”

  A few moments later, they were seated at her kitchen table, which she hadn’t considered to be small, until Josh sat down at it. When he leaned down on his elbows and dug in, his sock clad feet braced against the wrought iron legs, he engulfed nearly the entire table with his big, military-grade body.

  Carissa bit her lips together to keep from giggling.

  “What?” he asked, looking up from beneath his eyelashes as he stuffed a spoonful of the pot pie into his mouth.

  “You’re dwarfing my table.”

  He narrowed his eyes and chewed for a moment. “You laughing at me again?”

  “I wasn’t laughing at you last time!”

  He made an unconvinced sound. “Maybe we should sit on the couch.”

  “I’ll move the boxes, you carry the plates.”

  Shoving the boxes into a corner, she cleared the couch and claimed an end, her feet curled beneath her. Josh took the middle, kicking one foot up on her coffee table and bumping the open photo album that sat on top.

  With a bit of modesty, she reached out to close the cover, but Josh was faster.

  “Don’t even think about, Pigtails.” He snatched the thick book out of the way, dinner plate in one hand and her childhood in the other.

  “That’s the most embarrassing picture in there, trust me.”

  He set his plate down and flipped to the beginning of the book, specifically the pictures of her naked in the kitchen sink. His crooked grin stretched wide. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  “Come on, Josh, seriously. Just eat. There’s dessert too, you know.” She made a swipe for the album, but he held it above his head.

  “What’s in here you don’t want me to see?” he laughed. “Prom pictures? Mile high bangs?”

  She fell back against the back of the couch and sighed. “Yes, but that’s not the point. It’s just...looking through my family pictures is a bit personal for a no-strings fling, don’t you think?”

  “You know all of my family. You’ve hung out with my family. And we’re friends too, Carissa. But if you don’t want me to look, I won’t.” He offered her the book.

  The sincerity in his eyes made her heart ache. It wasn’t that she cared if he saw her in her most humiliating moments—the problem was how normal her family had once been. How flawed and broken they were now. She didn’t share any of it easily, especially with people who might try to convince her to take pity on her father and his disease. The memories still stung too much, still tasted too bitter for her to comprehend any other way of dealing with it than the manner she’d chosen. A cold, hard severance from it all.

  She shook her head. “Look at it. I’ll get your desert.”

  “I was hoping for seconds of this amazing pot pie.”

  She grinned. “I’ll bring more of that as well.”

  She took her time in the kitchen, not wanting to see the look on his face as he traveled through her childhood and teenage years, seeing the perfect family she used to be a part of. He knew about her mother’s accident and that she didn’t talk to her dad much, but he didn’t know the entirety of it all. And she preferred it to stay that way, especially if things between them were to remain casual.

  Balancing
his second plate and two bowls of peach cobbler and ice cream, she made her way back to the living room to find Josh hunched over the photo album, his chin in the palm of his hand.

  “Who’s this?” he asked, pointing at her high school boyfriend, standing next to her on the sidelines of a football game. He was decked out in his gear, helmet in hand, and she was in her cheerleading uniform, a corsage around her wrist.

  “Ethan. Homecoming.” She set his plate and bowl on the table beside him.

  “You two look cozy.” His voice contained more than a trace of accusation.

  She chuckled and waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, we were.”

  He shifted a glare her way. “How cozy are we talking?”

  “My first. In every way.” She drew out the words, purposely taunting him. Then she pointed to one of Maddie with horn-rimmed glasses and a beehive hair-do. “Mads.”

  He stuck his tongue in his cheek and narrowed his eyes, clearly not ready to change the subject. But he did. Reluctantly. His brows lifted at the picture she’d directed him to. “Spirit week or something? A play?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Just everyday Maddie.”

  He mouthed a silent wow and turned back a few pages, his index finger tapping a photo of her family at Disneyworld. “Nice ears.”

  “Right? I think I still have them somewhere.” She chuckled at the frown on her older brother’s face. “Cade was thirteen and so pissed Mom made him wear them for the picture.”

  “Can’t blame the guy. He’s what, three years older than you? And still lives in Lincoln, right?”

  She rolled a bite of peach cobbler around in her mouth, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. “Yep. Not too far from where we grew up.”

  “You close with him?”

  “Not anymore.”

  He nodded and skipped back even further to a shot of her with a hammer in her hands. She couldn’t have been more than four years old. Clay was squatting behind her. “What’s this all about?”

  The cobbler lodged in her throat and she had to cough to get it down. “One of my dad’s job sites.”

  He glanced at her again, his blue eyes wide with surprise. “He’s a builder?”

  “He was,” she said flatly, pushing away her dessert and wrapping her arms around her knees as she sat back on the couch.

  “What happened?”

  She shook her head. “Josh, I really...I don’t...”

  His expression softened and she gave a mental sigh of relief, thinking he might drop it. “I did the math, considering the Fourth of July is just around the corner, and I’m really hoping I’m wrong, but it seems to me that—”

  “It’s been ten years. Today.”

  “Fuck.”

  Her sentiments exactly. “Look, I’ve done pretty well today, so if we could maybe not go there...”

  He pushed the album away and hung his head in his hands, his fingers pushing back through his hair. “Carissa, I’m sorry, I—”

  “No,” she cut him off sharply. “No pity. I needed this. I needed you. Tonight. That’s all I want, okay? Nothing else.” This was where the sex-only bit got all messed up with the friends bit. If they were going to keep this uncomplicated, they couldn’t cross those dangerous emotional boundaries.

  He was quiet for a long moment. “Maybe I should go.”

  She clamped her eyes shut, completely unprepared for the surge of impending loneliness that washed through her. Like always, her emotions became harder to deal with at night and, when he left, she’d fall apart. She knew she would. “Okay.”

  He steepled his fingers against his mouth and pulled in a deep breath. “You really want me to?”

  “No.”

  “Good, I don’t wanna go either. How about I go out and grab a couple movies?”

  God, he was amazing. Knew her so well without her having to say any of it. “I’ve got streaming Netflix.”

  “Perfect. Let’s hit it.” He closed the photo album, scooped up both dishes of his uneaten food, and leaned back next to her. She grabbed the remote and thumbed on the TV.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Six o’clock Monday morning came way too early for Josh, since he hadn’t left Carissa’s place until close to midnight. Not that he was complaining. They’d watched two movies together and they’d spent the intermission christening her couch.

  Okay, so the couch had probably already been broken in, but, as he’d realized last night, cuddled beside her, there were undoubtedly lots of things she’d experienced in her apartment in the two and half years she’d lived there he didn’t want to know about. Most of which had likely occurred while she’d dated his best friend.

  Not the swallowing though. That she’d saved for him and he was happy to claim that prize, small and dirty as it might be.

  In fact, he was still grinning at the memory when he pulled up at the Henry mansion, pleased to see this section of his crew in full force. Tony jogged over as he climbed out of the truck.

  “You survived, I see.”

  Josh frowned, guilty conscience stirring. “What?”

  “Those younger, more in shape newbie Marines didn’t give your old ass a heart attack out there in the field.”

  Blinking, Josh swallowed down the guilt. “Oh. No. And shut the hell up. I’m not that old.” Granted, he felt every one of his thirty-one years this morning, no thanks to the couch gymnastics he’d done with Carissa.

  Tony laughed. “Well, you’ll be happy to hear there was no vandalism over the weekend.”

  Thank God.

  “But we do have a foundation issue at the clinic. Ryan’s over there now. Shouldn’t be hard to fix, but it’ll set us back a day on the framing, until the repaired concrete cures.”

  Josh nodded and got an update on the mansion, as well. “What about the flip?”

  “I’m headed there this afternoon to rewire the kitchen. What’s going on with the cabinetry?”

  “Can’t get up to Hastings with Carissa until Wednesday afternoon. Got a meeting today with the county to go over the courthouse proposal and then I’m tied up with the bank all day tomorrow.”

  Tony gave a smart-ass half-grin. “Hey, man, I’d happily take her.”

  “And I’d happily castrate you.”

  His friend chortled, as he inclined his chin in Josh’s direction. “Speaking of the hot little mama, I’m gonna assume you didn’t get that hickey curling your hair this morning.” He leaned in to get a closer look. “Or a couple days ago by the looks of it.”

  Christ. Josh’s palm went to the mark on his neck he’d been harassed about all weekend.

  “In any case, you should probably slap some make-up on it before Fletcher notices and starts asking questions you don’t wanna answer.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Tony lifted his hands and barked out a laugh. “Just trying to help out, man. I kinda like having you for a boss, you know?”

  “Then you should get back to work before I fire your ass.”

  Tony laughed all the way back to the mansion and Josh gave him a head start before he followed behind to do a quick run-through of the place, as he did with every site on Monday mornings. When he was finished at Henry’s, he’d move on to the clinic and then the flip, before he finished out his day with a presentation in front of the county board. A presentation so air-tight, it’d schmooze the pants right off the board members and guarantee Hudson Contracting next year’s multi-million dollar courthouse renovation.

  The courthouse was a historical, architectural masterpiece and would be, by far, the biggest and most intricate project he’d ever taken on. Fortunately, he and his guys had the skills to do the beautiful structure justice and give the board and all of Cameron County what they wanted. At a very respectable price, to boot.

  Josh grinned to himself as he made his way through the mansion. Luckily, he’d garnered enough revenue in the last few years that he could afford to take a few risks with his bids, if it meant he’d get a leg up on the competition.

 
But the competition he was most concerned with today had nothing to do with the contractors his company would be vying against. Instead, his preoccupation was with Fletcher and the reality that, sooner or later, he was going to have to face his friend. Being at the courthouse today seemed like the most likely opportunity.

  He didn’t plan on avoiding the man. In fact, he’d made up his mind that he wouldn’t hide. But purposely jumping into the fire didn’t exactly appeal either.

  Hell, he should just lay it all out there with Fletcher. Tell him everything from the beginning, because some idiotic part of Josh still wanted to think his friend had been the one in the wrong, getting involved with Carissa in the first place. But he knew pointing the finger at Fletcher wasn’t exactly fair. He’d had plenty of opportunities early on to come clean and he’d shied away from every single one of them.

  He hadn’t wanted to hurt his oldest friend. Wasn’t confident enough in how he felt about Carissa to gauge whether or not being honest was even worth it. They’d only shared one night together. They barely knew each other and their contact after their fling had been almost nonexistent. What right did he have to stick a foot in the door of her plans with another man? Even if that man was his best friend?

  In hindsight, he’d been a fool, because this thing between him and Carissa never went away. And here they were, wrapped up in sexual chemistry so unyielding and thick it was hard to think clearly, much less breathe.

  He knew acting on that lingering attraction made him a traitorous, self-serving asshole, just like it had all those years ago when he’d gotten tangled up with a girl Fletcher had cared about. His recklessness had almost cost him his oldest friendship and he’d decided that was a risk he’d never take again. He swore he’d never look twice at a woman his friend had dated, much less loved about, and Fletcher made the same commitment. For over a decade, the promise had served them well. Then Carissa came along.

  The greedy, resentful part of Josh had a hard time rationalizing why he and Carissa shouldn’t enjoy the sizzling connection between them. He’d gotten involved with her first, after all, and she obviously still desired him as much as he did her, despite her interlude with Fletcher. Indulging in each other again was just as much for her as it was him.