The Closer You Get

by Kristi Gold

  But he’d be damned if he made the first move after all their talk about trust. So he found a semicomfortable position, gave her a gentle squeeze and closed his eyes....

  He came awake to kisses on his neck and fingertips trailing over his side. He slowly opened his eyes to find Cammie curled against his chest, soft and warm and obviously willing. He figured it was some sleep-induced response, but when she lifted her face and grazed his lips with hers, he wasn’t so sure. “Cammie, are you awake?”

  “Very.” She rubbed her sweet little body against his and nearly sent him over the edge. “Apparently so are you.”

  Oh, yeah, he was. Cocked and loaded and ready to fire. He’d be playing with fire if he kept going since the one missing item that had previously halted their lovemaking could end it now. He’d just make this all about her for the moment and worry about the damn condoms later.

  He began by kissing her slowly, deliberately, just a light exploration before he turned up the heat. She responded by leisurely rubbing her hands down his back and working her way to his butt.

  This was the way it should be. Not some hurried act performed with the sole intent of sexual gratification. He cared a hell of a lot for the woman in his arms, something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The realization was unexpected, but he’d have to take it out and examine it later. He had more important things to consider at the moment, namely making her feel real good.

  Brett took the hem of Cammie’s gown, pulled it up over her head and tossed it away, leaving not a whole lot left between them except a pair of her skimpy panties and his boxer shorts. Just a lot of bare flesh that he intended to take his time exploring, beginning with her breasts. Cammie had other ideas. That became clear when she guided his palm to her belly, right above the thin lace band. Suddenly nothing seemed more important than pleasing her, even if it meant skipping a few steps.

  He slid his hand beneath her panties and discovered she was soft and warm and wet. He began to gently tease and stroke her, inside and out, intending to bring her to the brink until she couldn’t take it anymore. But he’d barely implemented the plan before she went off like a rocket.

  She buried her face into his neck and muttered, “I’m sorry.” She sounded innocent and apprehensive and maybe even guilty.

  He brushed her hair back from her face and tipped her chin up, encouraging her to look at him. “Why are you sorry?”

  “I just didn’t expect that kind of reaction.”

  He kind of liked her reaction. “I’m hoping it meant I was doing something right.”

  She sent him a shaky smile. “Oh, yes. You could say that. Maybe even too right.”

  No such thing, in his opinion. Something else was going on with her, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No. I’m just overwhelmed.”

  Overwhelmed? He’d barely touched her. “Are you worried about where we go from here?”

  “I’m worried about what you’re going to say when I tell you something I should’ve told you before now.”

  He was almost afraid to ask. “What is it?”

  “I’ve never made love with anyone.”

  He couldn’t have been more stunned if the entire hotel staff had walked in on them. “No one?”

  “No one.”

  The concept was unbelievable. Cammie was beautiful, sensuous, desirable―all the things that men instantly found attractive. And for some reason he was the first man she’d allowed to get this close to her. The thought of being her first disturbed him.

  “How is that possible?” The only thing he could manage at the moment.

  “If you mean why did I save my virtue, it wasn’t exactly planned. I spent so much time around men at the business, I thought guys were all the same―crude and interested in only one thing. Not to mention my grandfather and Bud were like a couple of mother hens. And then there was that little prom-night incident.”

  This he had to hear. “Prom night?”

  After covering up to her chin, she leaned over and snapped on the bedside lamp. “I know what you’re thinking—Cammie is a living cliché—and you’re right. It’s that age-old story of studious girl goes to the senior prom with popular boy, minus the unplanned pregnancy. I thought, Everyone else is doing it, so why not? Let’s just say Rocky had been drinking and he passed out before we got to the ‘doing it’ part.”

  He tried to stifle a laugh, without success. “His name was Rocky?”

  She frowned. “Yes, and he was about as bright as a briefcase, and a liar to boot. He was so mortified over what he’d done that he told everyone in school that we did do the deed. I spent the two weeks until graduation trying to live it down.”

  “Rocky was an idiot.”

  “Yes, and a few years later, I met Mark, who had many of those same qualifications, and we know how wonderful that turned out to be. I didn’t feel I was ready to take the next step until now.”

  Until now. Brett rolled onto his back. “Damn, Cammie, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “So sorry I forgot to pack my I’m a Virgin button along with the condoms and the zebra panties.”

  He took her hand into his. “I’m sorry I acted so shocked. I mean, hell, it’s not that common. Not anymore.”

  “Is this going to make a difference where we’re concerned? If it is, I want you to leave.”

  Should he leave? He sure as hell didn’t want to leave. He wanted her more than anything he’d wanted in a long time. “No way.”

  “Then where do we go from here?”

  “Right where we left off.”

  He brought her back into his arms and kissed her again. He didn’t know what would happen and right then he didn’t care. He knew he might regret the decision. Like Pat had said, Cammie was special and he didn’t want to hurt her. But they were good together. Destined to be even better.

  When Cammie went for the waistband on his boxer-briefs, he caught her wrist. “If you go anywhere near Joe right now, it might be all over before we get started.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You named it Joe?”

  “Yeah. Joe knows how to please a woman.”

  “That’s rather cocky,” she said, then added, “No pun intended.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. Loud enough to cause Cammie to slap her hand over his mouth. “You’re going to wake everyone up.”

  She had a point, and so did he. “You’re right. I don’t want to run into anyone when I go get the condoms.”

  Cammie let out an exasperated breath. “Next time, please tie the things around your neck.”

  He liked that “next time” thing. “You got it.”

  “Maybe I should go get it.”

  He kissed her chin and climbed out of bed. “You think I’d send you into a room full of barracudas to retrieve condoms?”

  She pretended to pout. “You’re not going to disappear and not come back?”

  “Not a chance.” Not this time, come hell or high water.

  * * *

  SHE’D ALWAYS KNOWN that if she took that final step, it would have to be with someone special. At one time she was willing to give herself to Mark. She’d made a mistake in thinking he was the right one. Maybe she’d made the same mistake by choosing Brett.

  To heck with her doubts, she was sick of them. More than anything, she wanted Brett to make love to her. She was beyond the childish dreams of forever. She needed to discover what it felt like to be a woman,
not the faithful granddaughter or someone’s surrogate sister or just one of the guys.

  He should be back by now. Maybe he’d reconsidered. Maybe she should have let him find out after the fact instead of confessing her inexperience. No. Honesty was the best policy no matter what happened from this point forward.

  She sat up when she heard the phone, then the voices. The crew was up and about. Cammie plopped back onto the bed and with a frustrated yank pulled the sheet over her face. Someone was trying to tell her something, and she suspected it was that bitch named Karma.

  Brett opened the door and asked, “Are you dressed?”

  Cammie laughed and removed the covers from her face. “What do you think?”

  He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her sheet-covered leg. “The boys are up and the hospital called.”

  Fear grabbed her and wouldn’t let go. “Pat?”

  “Good news. He’s asking for us. As a matter of fact, he’s giving the nurses hell.”

  “Thank goodness,” Cammie said. “Guess this means we have to get ready to go.”

  “Guess it does.” He leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss. “After the show tonight, we’ll have the whole night to spend together. Alone.”

  “Promise?”

  “Lady, I guarantee it.” He took her hand. “But I can’t guarantee I’ll do my best tonight when you’re all I’ll be thinking about.”

  Cammie smiled. “Just think of something else.” When she sat up and placed a kiss on the charming cleft in his chin, the sheet slipped down, revealing her bare breasts.

  Brett hopped off the bed like he’d been shot. “Cover yourself, woman. Otherwise, I’m calling Pat and telling him he’s going to have to wait.”

  * * *

  “I’VE HEARD I’VE BEEN REPLACED,” Pat said through a weak smile.

  Cammie realized he might look gaunt and tired, but he was still as feisty as ever. “No one could ever replace you,” she said. “But I am singing on key most the time.”

  Brett placed his hands on her shoulders. “She’s doing better than that. She’s got me singing on key.”

  “Praise be!” Pat said with more energy than she’d expected.

  “So what’s the verdict on your condition?” Brett asked.

  Pat rubbed his stubbly chin. “Well, I ate some bad food, but my liver’s good, which means I gave up the whiskey none too soon. And my cholesterol’s a bit high. Other than that, I’ll live.”

  Cammie worried he wasn’t being completely truthful. “And your heart?”

  “I’ve got a little bit of blockage,” he said. “The doc told me I need to see a cardiologist when I get back home.”

  Brett frowned. “That’s still a couple months away. Are you sure you’re cleared to travel?”

  “Yep.” He turned his attention to Brett. “Do you mind stepping out, son, so I can give this gal here a few words of encouragement?”

  Brett pointed at him. “That better be all you’re intending to do. We don’t want you to have another setback.”

  When Brett backed out of the room, Cammie claimed a seat on the edge of the bed. “What do you really want to tell me?”

  Pat took her hand and looked at her seriously. “Something’s going on between you and Brett. Something more than singing.”

  The truth came alive in Pat’s words, catching Cammie off guard. Pat was an honest man, and very perceptive, so she didn’t dare lie. “I suppose you could say that.”

  “Some advice then. Brett’s a hard one to figure. I love him like a son, but that don’t mean I always understand him. All I want to say—at the risk of sounding like your dad―is be careful. Brett has a lot more to give than he realizes. It’s going to take someone real special to convince him of that. But don’t let him hurt you in the process.”

  Pat echoed the conflicting thoughts she’d been having for the past few days. Brett could hurt her and she knew it. She also knew how happy he’d made her in the brief time they’d been together. “I’m a tough girl, Pat. I’m not sure what it is that Brett and I feel for each other―or will feel. I only know that he needs me right now. I’m prepared for whatever happens.”

  “Good,” he said, patting her hand. “Now you go knock ’em dead tonight and remember I’ll be with you in spirit.”

  Cammie gave him a hug. “See you later. And stop giving the nurses grief.”

  Pat laid a hand on his heart. “You really know how to spoil an old codger’s good time.”

  She left his room, taking with her his sage wisdom and kind smile, exactly what she would remember tonight before she took the stage. And she had little time to prepare for the first 6:00 p.m. performance. Very little time to make certain she looked her best.

  * * *

  CAMMIE HAD LEFT REHEARSAL, caught a cab to the mall on the strip and went on a frantic search for just the right look. She was now dressed in a new pair of dark-wash jeans and a black silky sleeveless top with a little silver embellishment right above her cleavage, which was a bit more exposed than she would’ve liked. She’d also chosen a pair of platform shoes so she wouldn’t seem quite as short.

  “Do I look okay?” she asked Rusty after she made her way behind the stage.

  Rusty whistled when she did a quick turn. “Brett won’t be able to hit a note when he sees you in those jeans.”

  “Thanks.” She kneaded her hands. “So I guess this is it.”

  “Try to relax, Cammie,” he said. “Don’t think about the people out in the audience. The lights will be so bright you won’t see much. Pretend it’s another rehearsal.”

  Hard to do when she realized it was the real thing. “Okay.”

  A family of battering rams soon took up residence in her belly, and her palms had already begun to perspire. If she could just find Brett, she’d feel better. She hadn’t seen him since she left the hotel that morning and she had to wonder if he’d purposefully been avoiding her.

  “Five minutes,” someone called from behind her. She could swear her heart lurched and lodged in her throat, which could make it darn difficult to sing.

  Bull rushed passed her but stopped before taking his spot behind the drums. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good luck, hon. You can do this.”

  You can do this, she chanted. She’d done it before. Just not in front of so many people in a first-class venue. And where was Brett?

  A man with a clipboard approached her, flipped up a page and scanned the one underneath. “Are you Ms. Carson?”

  She could deny it and make a quick getaway. “Yes.”

  “Stage left, just a little way past Mr. Taylor.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, ma’am. You’re on in two.”

  Two minutes? In two minutes she was making her debut, if she could get her legs to move. Her hands trembled like a leaf in a breeze. She shook them repeatedly at her sides—until someone gripped them and she felt the kiss on her neck. “Lookin’ good, sweetheart. You’re going to make the men in the audience real happy.”

  Her runaway heart had been calm compared to the dance it did the moment she caught the first glimpse of Brett. He wore a navy tailored shirt that contrasted with his gorgeous blue in his eyes. His black felt hat had been replaced by a white straw, clearly indicating tonight he was playing the good cowboy.

  When her hand automatically went to his smooth, shaven face, he kissed her palm and set her back away from him. “I think I’m in trouble. I won’t be able to keep my eye
s off you long enough to sing.”

  “Let’s go, folks. Forty-five seconds!” the man with the clipboard called.

  Brett leaned to give her a slow, sultry kiss. “It’s your night to shine, sweetheart.”

  She wiped the residual lipstick from his mouth and smiled. “As long as my brain doesn’t burn out before the second song.”

  “You’ll do fine. Just follow my lead.”

  He turned her toward the stage and swatted her bottom, sending her reluctantly forward toward her position. She made her way to the microphone where a glass of water rested on a small round table nearby. She took a quick drink and glanced at the posted order of the songs to be performed. She said a quick prayer for Pat in hopes of making him proud, then cleared her throat.

  When the ribbon of light peeking from under the curtain went down, Cammie took a hasty glance back at the boys. Rusty and Bull smiled at her and Jeremy gave her a thumbs-up. Even Bob Walker waved, and she’d barely met him.

  “Three, two, one...”

  The introduction began.

  The stage lights came blaring down in a brilliant red.

  The curtain opened.

  Showtime.

  Rusty was right. She could barely see anything beyond the first few tables running perpendicular to the front of the stage. Having a few moments to tune into the atmosphere proved to be a blessing for Cammie. The crowd seemed more sophisticated and subdued than usual. She relaxed somewhat while waiting for the end of the instrumental, inhaling and exhaling several times in an attempt to calm her nerves.

  Then the announcer introduced the headliner.

  Brett didn’t bound out as usual. Instead, he ascended on a recessed platform at the back of the stage like some wild angel, minus the halo and wings. As the spotlight centered on him, he strode forward to rousing applause, cries and whistles of the crowd.

  Welcome to Las Vegas.

  Cammie’s heart clamored again when she met his gaze and he gave her a sexy wink. She managed to tear her gaze away to glance at the first number listed on the sheet. The gesture was pure reflex since she’d memorized every song in order of appearance.