by Amy Andrews
“Wade, I—”
“It’s okay, CC.” The deep slurring of his voice as he cut in was more effective than his usual authoritative confidence. “Just go to sleep.”
His lips pressed lightly against her forehead, and his big hand on her shoulder was achingly reassuring. Sleep would be so easy. It had mostly eluded her for the last four days, and the prospect of it was so damn seductive. Her limbs were heavy as lead, her blood flowed thick and sluggish through her veins, and her eyelids were losing the fight to stay open.
But surely they needed to talk about this?
She forced her drifting eyelids open and tried again. “I don’t think—”
“Good,” he interrupted again, his hand squeezing her shoulder this time. “Don’t think.”
“We probably should.”
He sighed. “I know we screwed up here, CC. But there’s time enough in the morning for recriminations. Right now, I’ve got a nice buzz on, and I sure as hell hope you do too. Let’s not kill it just yet, huh? I’m sure the cold light of day will do that for us soon enough.”
CC had been fighting the buzz as she tried to do the responsible thing and own what had happened—get the inevitable talk out of the way. But she liked Wade’s suggestion better.
“Yeah, I guess,” she murmured, allowing the buzz free rein, sighing as it sunk into her bones.
“Go to sleep, CC.”
His sleepy voice poured over her like honey, his gentle entreaty like sweet music to her ears. She sighed and snuggled closer to him. He was right. Morning was only a few hours away, and there would be time enough then to fully realize what they’d done.
She suspected it was going to make her even more miserable than the last few days, but she knew with absolute certainty she’d never ever regret it.
…
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
CC cracked an eye open. Sunlight blazed into the hotel room and stabbed straight into eyeballs that now felt like peeled grapes. She squeezed her lids shut.
“Up and at ’em.”
She winced. Both at the cheerfulness of Wade’s voice and the low, dull throb behind her eyes. She silently thanked God she’d taken a couple of painkillers after her midnight shower last night. She had enough to contend with this morning without a blinding hangover.
If only there were pills for sexual remorse…
Why couldn’t she be the kind of drunk that got amnesia with a bender? But no…it had all come back in vivid detail. From how much she’d had to drink and other more unfortunate decisions she’d made.
Like her and Wade doing the wild thing.
Coffee tickled her nose, and something soft and light landed on her chest. She felt it with her hand and realized it was her shirt. Oh yes…of course…she was also naked under the sheet.
God. How was she ever going to face Wade? Maybe if she just lay here with her eyes closed he’d get the hint.
The mattress depressed beside her. “I got you some Red Bull.”
Of course he got her Red Bull—exactly the kind of sugary caffeine charge she needed right now, and he knew it, damn it.
Why was he being so kind? Why wasn’t he being the self-centered asshole he could so often be, insisting she talk to his weepy women, setting a pack of determined Credence seniors on her, making her buy his condoms?
Condoms. The ache between her legs and the slipperiness at the juncture of her thighs reminded her that not only had she and Wade done the wild thing last night, but they’d been reckless with it, too.
Which not only made her a fool, but an idiot as well.
“C’mon, CC, ignoring me isn’t going to make it go away.”
CC opened her eyes and glared at him. He looked disgustingly chipper, considering. He held out a can of Red Bull and cracked the lid. She took it automatically but didn’t sit up. “Turn around.”
His mouth quirked like he was about to make some quip about having seen it all already, but just as quickly it was gone and he was turning away and standing up, calling to George, who was draped over her feet. “Come on, dog. Let’s give your mistress some privacy.”
If CC hadn’t been in such a dither, she’d have let the tiny little trill in her chest at being George’s mistress bloom into a deeper pleasure. But now wasn’t the time.
George looked at her for a beat or two, thumped his tail, then reluctantly jumped off the bed, ambling after Wade.
And Cal had said he couldn’t be trained.
Wade stopped near the couch, his back to her, hands shoved on hips, his fingers drumming in an impatient gesture she knew too well. Considering how much she’d already screwed up the last few days, it got her moving pretty damn quick.
Placing the open can on the bedside table, CC threw the shirt over her head while still lying horizontal, pulling it down over the sheet at the front before easing herself upright. Her stomach muscles protested the move, reminding her just how much time she’d spent throwing up last night.
And how Wade had been there rubbing her neck…
Annoyed at the memory, she yanked the T-shirt down at the back and pulled the sheet out from under her. She reached for the Red Bull and guzzled half the can down as she swiveled her legs out of bed.
She stood and strode to her bag, grabbing some other clothes. No way was she going to have a conversation with him in her Broncos T-shirt looking like some kind of Wade “The Catapult” Carter groupie. “I’ll be out in a moment,” she said as she headed for the bathroom.
CC resisted the urge to take another shower, shucking the shirt as soon as the door closed and climbing into her usual cotton underwear. She pulled on some capris and a green striped T-shirt. She resisted looking in the mirror, too afraid of what she might see. And not just her general red-eyed, hungover appearance, but what was beyond that.
The primal expression of a woman who’d had the best sex of her life. With her boss… There wasn’t enough Red Bull in the world to face that.
For a beat or two, she contemplated hiding in the bathroom and never coming out. But Wade was right, this had to be dealt with—better to just rip the Band-Aid off in one quick movement. Just get out there and tell him it was a mistake, a one-off, a combination of grief and comfort, and she had to resign. Not like she’d done last night, in the heat of passion. But calmly and soberly in the cold light of day.
There really wasn’t a choice.
Taking a steadying breath, she opened the door to find Wade sitting on the couch, disposable coffee cup in one hand, patting George’s head with the other. He stood as she approached, and George slipped off the couch, padding over to sit at her feet. His warm body leaned into her shin, bolstering CC a little for the excruciating conversation ahead.
“Are you okay?”
CC blinked. She hadn’t expected him to get right to it. She nodded. “I feel foolish, but—”
His quick “Not about that” cut her off. “I meant about your father.”
“Oh.” CC scrubbed a hand over her face. She was as okay as could be expected, she guessed. Crying an ocean of tequila-flavored tears last night had helped. “Yes. I guess.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry. About last night. About being drunk. And the vomiting.” And rubbing myself against you like a human scratching pole while you slept. “You were sweet to stay with me.”
CC suspected nobody had ever called Wade sweet in his life, but he took it in his stride, waving away her words as if what he’d done was of no consequence. “It’s fine.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Maybe you should…talk to someone, though? About your dad. About what you went through?”
“Yeah. Probably.”
She probably should have seen someone years ago, if the repressed shit from last night was anything to go by, but the fact that Wade cared, that he was worried about her mental state, was surprisingly touching. It was the kind of thing a friend would worry
about. He’d said those words last night, and she guessed, given all they’d been through, their relationship was more than boss and employee.
“I hear seeing a shrink is very popular in California,” she murmured. “I’ll fit right in.”
Wade laughed, a short, sharp noise before it petered out and he filled his lungs with air. “So…you’re leaving, then?”
“Yeah.”
His shoulders hunched as he burrowed his hands deeper in his pockets. “It doesn’t have to be this way. We could just pretend this didn’t happen. What happens in Nebraska and all that?”
CC blinked. What? There was no way she could wipe last night from her memory bank. Could he? “You think that’s possible?”
He stared at her for long moments, his lips rolled tight together, before shaking his head. “No.”
“Right.” Relief flushed through her system. It would have been a blow to think he could just put what they’d shared behind him. Their kiss, sure. But sex? Really freaking great sex? “So…I’m leaving.”
“If that’s what you want.”
CC had wanted nothing more for over five years. Hell, she’d been counting the days this past year. But now it was upon her, she didn’t want to go. Not like this. Even though she didn’t see how they could have the same kind of working relationship anymore. They hadn’t just overstepped their normal professional boundaries by doing the horizontal rumba, they’d blowtorched them to a pile of burning rubble.
“I’ll stay for another couple of weeks. I told your mother I’d help her out with the next group of bachelorettes, and I don’t want to leave her in the lurch. Plus it’ll give me time to start looking for a replacement PA for you.”
If anything, his mouth turned grimmer. “Who else is going to put up with my crap, CC?”
“There’ll be someone.” There was always someone. He’d found her, hadn’t he? “WWW dot Saints dot com?”
He laughed, but it was short-lived. “I realized this morning that I…” Wade shifted a little and folded his arms across his chest. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t wear a condom.”
“Yeah. But I haven’t had sex in a very long time and have a contraceptive implant which finally gets to do its job.” Unless those suckers somehow detected celibacy and switched off—then she was screwed. “And having bought your condoms for five and a half years, I know how many of them you go through, so I assume you use them diligently and I have nothing to worry about in relation to STDs.”
He nodded. “I always use a condom. Always.”
It was on the tip of CC’s tongue to ask why he hadn’t last night. Why had last night been so different? Had he been as swept up as she had? So desperate to be inside her, as desperate as she had been to have him inside her, that nothing else had mattered?
Even hours later, the driving need for his possession still hummed through her cells.
“Okay. Well…good.” CC stared at her hands. “Nothing for either of us to worry about, then. We’re free and clear.”
“Yes. Free and clear.”
And just like that, it was dispensed with. They could wash their hands of the whole regrettable incident.
“Are you coming home today?”
CC’s heart hitched in her chest at his choice of words. Home. She assumed he meant Credence. That quirky little town, his crazy Gone with the Wind house she’d come to love in such a short space of time. Except it wasn’t her home. Hell, even her apartment in Denver wasn’t really home—it belonged to Wade.
God…home had been connected to Wade for so long now, she couldn’t think about it outside the context of him, and that probably scared her the most.
Definitely time to move to California. To put down roots. To make a home of her own. Make friends. Find a community. Hell, find a guy, a chill kinda beach guy who liked dogs and pigs and wasn’t allergic to commitment. Make some little beach babies with him before all her eggs died.
“No. Tomorrow. Should be in Credence by five.”
He smiled. “Just in time for Happy Hour at Jack’s.”
CC smiled, too, but it was tight and fake. For some stupid reason, she felt like crying. “You?”
“I’ll head off now.” George whined at that piece of news, and Wade glanced at the dog for long moments before raising his gaze to CC. “Unless you want me to stay?”
“No.” Her pulse skipped a beat. The last thing she wanted was for Wade to stick around, reminding her of what they’d done. Some distance now would be good.
All of Nebraska should just about do it.
“I can stay. I don’t mind.”
His gaze was earnest, and CC had no doubt he was genuine, but she shook her head, suppressing a well of emotion rising in her chest. God…she’d jump him again for sure. She was too fragile to be strong.
“I’m fine, really. But you could leave George.” George hovered his ass off the floor and gave an excited little yip at the mention of his name.
“You know there are no pets allowed, right? I had to sneak him in last night.”
“And I thank you for it.” Seeing the puppy again had given CC a real lift.
“You’ll have to keep him locked in your room.”
CC nodded. It was a more sensible option than keeping Wade locked in her room. “Yep. I’m good with that.” She patted George’s head. “What do you think, Georgie porgie?” Another excited yip sealed the deal.
“Alrighty,” Wade said. “Be careful.”
“Will do.”
He stood awkwardly for long moments. Prior to last night, he’d have just walked out and tossed a goodbye over his shoulder. Probably asked her to pick up some more Nerds on the way home because walking into a store and getting his own was not something he’d ever had to do. But now he was standing there, clearly debating how to navigate this strange new world. A world where they’d seen each other naked.
This was why she had to leave.
Two more months of moments like this would be excruciating, their relationship growing more and more stilted.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, breaking into the awkward silence. “Drive carefully.”
He nodded. “You too.”
He turned away then, strode to the door without a backward glance, but CC didn’t breathe until he was on the other side of it.
It was going to be a long couple of weeks.
…
Wade beat himself up the entire journey back to Credence. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this low in his life. And he’d been through some major downers. Jasmine. Injuries that had taken him out for months. His father needing a pacemaker. But falling from the high of having the most spectacular sex of his life to knowing that it had signed CC’s resignation letter in indelible ink had been the worst.
He’d known when she’d faced him that she was going to leave. And he’d known he couldn’t stop her, even though he had tried. They’d stepped so irrevocably over the line he couldn’t even see the damn thing.
Wade had been so sure that with three months together in Credence he’d be able to convince her to stay on as his PA, even if it meant some kind of reduced capacity. So sure. But even if he had managed prior to last night to convince her to stick with him, what they’d done had well and truly ensured she could no longer be in his employ. The sex, the crazy, uncertain, mixed-up feelings that were between them now, would make a professional relationship difficult.
How could he ever concentrate on work when he was thinking about the sounds she made when she came? Thinking about how soft she was and how her nipples tasted and how soon they could do it again.
And again.
Their kiss, as amazing as it had been, was something they could have gotten past. He’d been absolutely convinced of that. But sex? Even he knew it was impossible to get past something so profound, and no amount of finagling was going to change the fact.
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Wade Carter didn’t like losing. He’d come to Credence with a game plan where CC was concerned. But he had to face facts, he’d lost her, he’d lost CC and he had nobody to blame but himself.
Slamming his hand against the steering wheel several times, Wade roared out his frustration.
Stupid, stupid, so-fucking-stupid.
But in his heart of hearts, he knew he’d do the same thing over again. He could no more have stopped himself last night than stopped the tide. She’d needed him. And he’d needed to be the man she’d turned to.
Now he just had to live with the consequences.
Chapter Twenty
If Wyatt hadn’t been sure his mother was matchmaking before, he knew it the second she suggested he take Jenny up to the hayloft to watch the sunset through the big window in the gable that looked out over the eastern Colorado landscape.
“Supper’s still an hour away, and it’s so pretty up there.”
His mother used to take Wade and him up there as kids to watch the sun sink below the horizon. All three of them would sit close to the edge and dangle their legs free and watch in awe at the ritual as old as the earth itself.
And Wade, of course, had made out with many a girl up there.
“Ladies first.” Wyatt stood back to let Jenny precede him on the ladder. His mother would expect nothing less of the good Southern gentleman she’d raised.
Jenny laughed. “Are you trying to look up my skirt, Wyatt Carter?”
A surge of heat swamped Wyatt’s face as he took in Jenny’s skirt. He’d been admiring the way it flared around her knees since she’d arrived on the farm a couple of hours ago. That and the tiny row of pearl buttons holding her blouse together. But he hadn’t really thought through the logistics of ladder climbs and skirts.
Maybe if he’d had more girls up here he might have.
“Oh, no, sorry, God I didn’t—”
Her soft laugh broke into his panic. “Relax, Wyatt.” She nudged him gently with her shoulder. “I’m only teasing.”
Wyatt blinked and then laughed as a wash of cool relief flowed through his hot face. “Right. Sorry.” He was pleased for the shadows in the barn hiding his blushes, not that she seemed to mind. “I’ll go first, shall I?”