Jason shook his head. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“All I know is that I’ve moved on with my life. And like I said, I don’t know why you came home—”
“I came back for you,” he blurted out.
She just stared at him. Then she laughed. “Four years later! Gee, that’s so romantic.”
He stared right back. “Can you just quit it with the sarcastic remarks and hear me out?”
“Sorry, can’t. As you can see, I’m super busy. I don’t have time to talk right now.”
“The shop’s empty,” he grumbled.
She shrugged. “I have inventory to do in the back.”
“Fine.” He flashed her the little-boy grin that had always made her melt in the past. “Then we’ll talk later.”
“I’m busy later.”
“Doing what?” he challenged.
“Having dinner. With my fiancé.”
He faltered. For a second. “You’re lying,” he said with a laugh.
“Nope. I’m engaged.”
“Where’s the ring?”
“I don’t believe in material displays of love and commitment.”
“Fine. Who’s the guy?”
“Oh, you don’t know him.”
Another laugh lodged in his chest. “What’s his name?”
“Bob.”
The laugh spilled out. “You’re marrying a guy named Bob?”
“What, you’ve got something against that name?” Callie seemed to be fighting her own amusement, which told him he had her right where he wanted her. “Bob is a very distinguished name, you know. Think of all the Bobs who’ve done such great things. Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Bob Barker, does Billy Bob Thorton count? He’s got a Bob in there. Uh, Bobby Kennedy—”
“Okay, I get it,” Jason cut in, doing his best not to show her just how entertained he was. “So now here’s what’s gonna happen, baby.”
“Don’t you dare call me ba—”
“I’m going to let you get back to this monstrous amount of work you claim to have,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “And when you’re done, you can decide if you want to have dinner with your fake Bob, or come to my motel like a mature adult so we can have a mature conversation. I’m staying at the Skylark Motel.”
“Never heard of it.”
He smothered a laugh. “You can Google it.” His voice grew serious. “Look, I know you’re pissed at me—I deserve it. But I’m only in town for one night, Callie. One night, and then you’ll never have to see me again.”
She didn’t answer.
“At least give me the chance to explain before I go. You owe it to our history together to give me that chance.”
Her delicate throat worked as she swallowed. “I’ll have to talk it over with Bob.”
An unwitting grin tugged at his mouth. “You know where to find me, Callie.”
Without giving her the opportunity to get the last word in, he spun on his heel and dashed out of the shop. He didn’t need to turn around to see the frown marring her mouth—he could feel it burning into his back.
But that was okay. He’d gotten what he’d wanted out of this visit. A chance to see Callie. A chance to make things right again.
And he knew she would show up tonight. There was no doubt in his mind.
Chapter Two
Why did men only get more attractive as they grew older? Jason was thirty years old—wasn’t that the time when things started to go downhill? The beer gut and receding hairline and all that fun stuff? But no, not Jason the-hottest-body-ever Anders. He, of course, had to look even sexier than before.
Jerk.
Callie locked up the shop and set the alarm, then walked around the side of the building toward the small parking lot. She headed for her rust-covered Toyota hatchback and unlocked the driver’s door. Sliding in, she started the engine, reached for the gearshift, and . . . hesitated.
One night.
Why was he only in town for one night? Why had he even come back? He’d said he was here for her, but she wasn’t about to buy that one.
Her heart squeezed as she remembered that awful day. He’d left. Stood her up, hopped a bus to Little Creek. No kiss goodbye. No goodbye, period. He hadn’t even called her once over the past four years. Oh, she’d gotten his packages—all jammed full of photographs he’d taken during his travels. Really good photographs, she grudgingly admitted to herself. But no surprise there. Jason had always been talented with a camera.
And now he was back. To explain apparently, but did she really want to hear what he had to say? They’d been dating since they were eighteen years old. She’d patiently waited while he’d served two tours in the Navy, while he’d joined the SEALs and risked his life every day for so long. Four years ago, he was supposed to be done. He was getting out, he’d told her. Ready to settle down and start a life with her.
But he left.
Just like that.
“Screw it,” she mumbled to herself, putting the car in drive.
She wasn’t going to fall under his spell again. Jason Anders was the most charming man she’d ever known. Smart, funny, incredibly attractive. He’d had it tough growing up—she’d witnessed that firsthand—but she’d thought he’d managed to come out of it even stronger. But then he’d bailed on her, and she’d spent the last four years picking up the pieces of her broken heart. Now that her heart was intact again, she refused to let Jason take another stab at it.
The sun had already set, and Main Street was bathed in the yellow glow from the lampposts lining the sidewalk. With the shops closed and the streets empty, the town was deserted. The sight normally brought her a sense of tranquility, but tonight it just annoyed her. Every day in Skylark Springs was the same as the one before. People woke up, went to work, went home, had dinner, went to bed, then did it all over again. A part of her had always envied Jason for managing to avoid the monotony of it all. God, she’d been tempted to leave this place too, so many times, but unlike Jason, she had responsibilities. A store to run, an aunt who depended on her, bills to pay.
Sighing, she halted at a stop sign, realizing she was nearing the turnoff that led to the Skylark Motel. Take a left, and she’d be at Jason’s door. Take a right, and she’d be on the road to Aunt Susan’s place, safe and sound in her little guesthouse on her aunt’s property.
She kept driving, her foot hovering over the gas pedal as she neared the intersection. Left or right.
Did he even deserve the chance to explain?
Did she even want to hear what he had to say?
“Aw, shit!” she burst out.
At the very last second, she yanked on the wheel and turned left.
Jason answered the door in nothing but a towel.
Callie’s mouth instantly turned into the Sahara Desert. Her eyes were assaulted by his sleek golden chest, the sculpted muscles and rippled abdomen, the dusting of dark hair arrowing down to his groin. There was a new scar on his upper arm, three-inches long, white and puckered. Her fingers tingled with the impulse to touch it. To touch him.
Swallowing hard, she tore her gaze from his spectacular chest and lifted it to his spectacular eyes. Ice blue, like a crisp, cool glacier moving languidly through the water. He was so damn gorgeous she wanted to hit him for it. Perfect classic features, a sensual mouth, dark stubble slashing across his defined jaw.
She’d never been attracted to anyone the way she was attracted to Jason. It was crazy and primal and confusing, and it irked that he still managed to evoke that same jolt of heat inside of her, even after all these years.
“Hey,” he drawled, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. “Bob gave you the okay to come, huh?”
At his slight smirk, her cheeks went hot. Okay, so maybe conjuring up a fake fiancé hadn’t been her finest moment. But he’d caught her off guard, darn it. The last thing she’d expected when she’d gone to work today was a spontaneous reunion with Jason Anders.
“Bob doesn’t exist,” she said wi
th a sigh.
“Shocker.”
With a scowl, she brushed past him and entered the motel room. She glanced around, taking in the ugly patterned bedspread and splintered wood furniture, then the unzipped duffel bag sitting on the faded carpet.
“Why are you only in town for a night?” she asked, turning to face him.
He adjusted his towel, drawing her gaze to his trim hips. “I’m eager to get started.”
She furrowed her brows. “Get started on what?”
“Life.” With a shrug, he sank down on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to do some traveling. Start off here, driving across the country, and then I’ll tackle the rest of the world.”
“Sounds liberating,” she said, an edge to her voice. “Aren’t you going to put some clothes on?”
His lips twitched. “Nope.” He cocked his head. “Why, is the sight of me in a towel getting you hot?”
Of course. He was trying to distract her with his potent masculinity.
Determined not to take the bait, she leaned against the tall cedar dresser next to the bed and crossed her arms. “So, let’s hear it.”
He faltered.
“Explain,” she clarified. “Tell me why you left.”
He was quiet for so long she didn’t think he’d answer, but then he gulped a couple of times and met her gaze head-on. “I couldn’t stay in this town a second longer.”
Not even for me? she wanted to cry out, but swallowed the words.
“I tried, Cal,” he went on, his voice husky. “After I came back from overseas, I tried to settle down here, and for a while, I thought I was actually happy. We were living in the guesthouse, I was taking pictures, trying to make a career of it, but this town . . . this town suffocates me.”
She bit her lip. “You only gave it two months.”
“That was enough. Enough to know I didn’t want to be here. Faking smiles when people raved about how wonderful Lewis Anders was, those shitty dinners with my dad, where he pretended he hadn’t hit me until I got big enough to defend myself. I couldn’t do it anymore.”
There was a raw, helpless chord in his voice. Callie steeled herself against it, trying not to sympathize, not to care. Lewis Anders had been a real piece of work. A nasty drunk with an even nastier tempter, a father who couldn’t fathom why his son was more interested in photographs than business.
But Jason wasn’t the only one who’d had a tough upbringing. Her own parents had died within days of each other—her mother from complications during childbirth, her dad in a car accident two days later. Her aunt was amazing, but after Susan had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, Callie had been forced to take on more and more responsibility. Susan had been wheelchair bound for the past five years, which meant Callie had to take on an even bigger burden in order to pay the mortgage and run the store.
“I know you think I ran away,” Jason finished, his blue eyes flickering with regret. “But I didn’t, Callie. I didn’t run from something, I ran to something. I don’t belong here. I never did.”
A lump rose in her throat. “That doesn’t explain why you didn’t talk to me about it, why you didn’t say goodbye.”
“I tried to talk to you. I told you how much I wanted to get out of here. I even asked you to go with me.” He sighed. “I loved you so damn much. Leaving you was the hardest thing I ever did, Cal. When you said you never wanted to leave Skylark, I panicked. I had to get out, so I reenlisted.”
Callie’s lips tightened. “I didn’t say I never wanted to leave. I said I couldn’t leave.”
“Because of Susan.”
“Yes, because of Susan. She needed me. She still does.”
He shook his head. “No, she doesn’t. And she was right there beside me, urging you to leave.”
Callie battled a burst of aggravation. “Deep down she didn’t want that, though.”
“But she did. She feels so guilty that you’re stuck here, taking care of her. She feels terrible that you’re not pursuing your writing, that you’re working at her store because she’s too sick to do it.”
She stubbornly shook her head. “I know you claim she told you that, but I don’t believe it.”
“Well, it’s true.”
Frustration rolled in her belly. God, she shouldn’t have come here. What was the point in rehashing the past? Jason had made it clear how he felt about her when he’d skipped town four years ago. And now he was leaving again.
“I have to go,” she murmured, edging toward the door.
He was on his feet before she could blink, and suddenly his hands were cupping her chin. “No,” he said in a ragged voice. “Don’t go, please.”
She tried pushing his hands away, but he just tightened his grip, running his thumb over her cheek. “I just want you to understand that my leaving was never about you. I loved you, baby. I never stopped loving you. And I knew I couldn’t call you, knew I couldn’t stand listening to the pain in your voice if I did, so I sent you pictures. Every time I took a picture, I thought of you.”
The lump in her throat thickened. “I got the pictures.”
“You looked at them?”
“Yeah.”
He stroked both of her cheeks. “Please. Just don’t go. I’m here for one night. So stay. Just stay with me tonight, and let’s pretend none of that shit in the past happened. Let’s lose ourselves in each other.”
It sounded tempting. So damn tempting. Her heart pounded like crazy from his mere proximity. Her thighs quivered, her breasts achy and sensitive. She’d loved this man since she was sixteen years old. He was her first love, her first lover. He’d been her everything.
She wanted to lose herself in him. She wanted to feel the naked emotion and raw desire that only Jason Anders could make her feel.
But she wanted to preserve her heart too.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Yes, you can.”
Before she could protest, his mouth came down on hers. The kiss robbed her of breath and common sense, and just like that, the years and heartache melted away. His lips were warm, firm. His taste was spicy and familiar. And his tongue . . . his tongue slid into her mouth like it belonged there and teased her into oblivion.
Unable to stop herself, she twined her arms around his neck and got lost in the kiss. She’d never been much of a romantic, or a believer in soul mates, but as Jason’s lips moved over hers, she couldn’t deny that something powerful existed between them.
Breathing heavily, she wrenched her mouth away. “We shouldn’t do this. There’s no point. You’re leaving again.”
His eyes shone with passion and warmth. “You could come with me this time.”
She gave a startled squeak, but he bent down again and swallowed the sound, kissing her so deeply she forgot all about the terrifying idea he’d just voiced. As her pulse drummed in her ears, Callie closed her eyes and kissed him back, knowing it was too late to stop the disastrous runaway train she’d just boarded.
Chapter Three
She was back in his arms again. A thrill shot up Jason’s spine at the feel of Callie’s curvy body pressed against his. Her lips were as warm and lush as he remembered, and just as addictive. He’d never stopped fantasizing about those lips. No matter where he was, no matter what he was doing, he’d thought about Callie. He’d brought her memory with him on every dangerous mission, every chopper ride, every trek through the jungle. And he’d been thinking of her when that bullet had ripped into his flesh, when he’d endured months of grueling physical therapy learning how to use his arm again.
It had always been Callie. And as her tongue eagerly swirled over his, he knew it would always be Callie.
“I’m still mad at you,” she muttered against his mouth.
“I know,” he muttered back, and then he kissed her again, while his hands drifted down her body to cup her firm ass.
Somehow they stumbled onto the bed. Somehow their clothes disappeared. Somehow a condom founds it way onto his thick, throbbing erection
.
Callie gasped when he entered her, digging her nails into his back, hard enough to bring the sting of pain.
He didn’t mind. Their lovemaking had always been frantic, out of control. A furious joining of bodies, a desperate joining of hearts. And then it would slow down, turn lazy and tender, as it did now. He thrust into her slowly, watching the haze of desire flood her big brown eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and yanked his head down for a kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth as her hips lifted beneath him.
“I’ve missed you,” he choked out, burying his head in the crook of her neck.
Her breath tickled his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.”
Those four words drove him wild, had him picking up the pace again, until they were both gasping and moaning in sheer abandon. When Callie cried out in pleasure and shuddered in release, Jason finally allowed himself to let go. His climax crashed into him, sending waves of pleasure to every inch of his body, making every nerve ending crackle. With a groan, he lost himself in the mind-blowing sensations.
He lost himself in Callie.
She got dressed in a hurry. She was rattled—he didn’t need to be a genius to figure that one out. Sighing, Jason slid up into a sitting position, unconcerned with his nakedness. He watched as Callie slipped her feet into her sandals, as she smoothed out her tousled hair.
“Cal,” he said softly.
She slowly met his eyes. “This was a mistake, Jase.”
“It wasn’t a mistake.”
“You left me.” Her voice cracked. “God, I’m the biggest loser on the planet, huh? You disappear, waltz back into town four years later, and what do I do? Hop into bed with you.”
He let out a heavy breath. “You said you missed me.”
“People say dumb things in the throes of passion.”
“You meant it.” He softened his tone. “And I meant what I said too. I want you to come with me.”
Her agitation seemed to deepen, making her fidget with the hem of her sundress. “That’s ridiculous.”
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