Closer To You (Callaways Book 11)

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Closer To You (Callaways Book 11) Page 10

by Barbara Freethy


  She gave him a skeptical look. "How often was that?"

  "Usually when my mom forced me to go outside, or my brothers and cousins needed one more guy to play," he conceded. "I liked the game, but it often seemed like a distraction from what I really wanted to do, and that was to learn. As a teacher, you should appreciate that."

  "I do. I love being able to show a child something they never imagined for the very first time. It's why I teach."

  "Can I go look for pine needles and rocks now?" Tyler interrupted.

  "That's a good idea. We're going to build some terrain," he told Grace.

  "You can look in the backyard," Grace told Tyler. "Put your coat on first."

  "Okay." Tyler slid into his coat and then ran out the kitchen door to the backyard.

  "Thanks for taking the lead on this," she said, as she took the seat next to him. "I needed a minute to catch my breath."

  "Did you decide what you want to do?"

  "Still pondering. I looked through the rest of the house. Absolutely nothing is missing. Maybe I did just leave the door open. I was busy grabbing things when we were leaving. It's possible I didn't pull it shut. And the drawer in my room—I could have randomly opened it without thinking about it."

  He could see that she was working hard to believe in her theory, but her instincts and her brain weren't on the same page.

  "But," she added, "I think I'll take Tyler to his house tonight. I have a key. Carrie just wanted to make things easier for me by having Tyler stay here, but I'm sure he would be happy to go home and sleep in his own bed. And he has all his things there. Plus, his grandparents will be coming tomorrow night, so he's going to be back there soon anyway."

  "That sounds like a solid plan. You have a very analytical and logical brain."

  "And you think I got that from my father?" she asked with a dry smile. "You're fighting a losing battle, Ian, and, frankly, I don't know why you're bothering. You don't know my father that well. You met him once."

  "You're right. I only met him the one time, but I have admired his work for years. Seamus is a brilliant man, and he has made some amazing contributions to science and the world. That doesn't excuse his behavior as a husband and a father, but maybe you just need to realize that he's not all good or all evil. He's a flawed human, like most of us."

  "I do realize that—in my head. But my heart still hurts."

  "I understand," he said, seeing the conflict in her eyes.

  "I also have a lot of loyalty to my mother, Ian, so changing my mind about my dad feels like I'm betraying her."

  "She really wants you to hate your father?"

  "Yes, she does. That doesn't sound good, I know, but I think she needs me to back up her hate. That's why she asked Jillian and me to change our last name, and that's why we agreed. It felt like it was us against him. My mother was the person who'd always been there for me and my sister. How could we go against her?"

  "I can't imagine having to make that choice," he said honestly. "I think she put you in an impossible position."

  "I think she did, too, but she was so hurt and angry, I'm sure she didn't see it that way." As she finished speaking, her gaze moved to the puzzle box.

  "You should open that," he said.

  "I honestly don't know if I remember how."

  "It will come back to you once you start playing around with it. Aren't you a little curious as to what is inside?"

  "Maybe."

  "I think it's more than maybe."

  "I'm only going that far for now." She glanced at the clock. "It's almost five. You have a party tonight, don't you?"

  "Oh, right." He'd completely forgotten about the opening night cocktail gathering. "That starts at six."

  "You should probably go."

  "I should," he agreed, but he made no move to get to his feet. A few days ago, he'd been eager to catch up with some of the brightest minds in his field; now he found himself reluctant to leave Grace. He wanted to keep talking to her. He wanted to see her open that puzzle box. And most of all, he wanted to kiss her.

  It wouldn't be that difficult. She was only sitting a foot away from him. He could lean over and steal a kiss with only the smallest effort. He could taste the lips he'd spent the night dreaming about. He could run his fingers through her silky red waves. He could pull her up against his chest, feel those soft curves—but all that spelled danger. Grace wasn't a one-taste, one-kiss, one-touch, one-night kind of a woman. And she still had her seven-year-old chaperone who would come barreling through the door any second. He needed to put the brakes on his racing thoughts.

  "You definitely should go," Grace said, getting to her feet. "And stop looking at me like that."

  "Like what?"

  "Like you're starving, and I'm a big juicy steak."

  He smiled as he stood up. "Believe me, I'm not seeing a steak when I look at you."

  "Ian," she said, her voice a bit breathy, her eyes shining bright. "We can't."

  "Kiss?" he challenged. "Why not? I want to. I think you do, too." He could see her glistening lips, as he inched closer to her.

  "Because…" She put a hand against his chest, stopping his forward movement. "You know why. You're leaving in a few days. I'm staying. Our paths will never cross again."

  "I know that you're right," he admitted. "It is a bad idea. I spent most of last night calculating the odds of wanting more than one kiss from you, and the possibility of stopping at one seemed an unlikely outcome."

  "Then we agree, although…" She tilted her head, giving him a quizzical look. "Do you always approach kissing a woman in such a scientific way?"

  "Only the important ones."

  His honest answer seemed to suck the breath right out of her. "Oh."

  "Oh," he echoed, putting his hand over hers where it rested on his chest. The heat of her skin did nothing to dampen the growing need in his body. "But I don't always play the odds."

  "You don't? That seems very unscientific and way too risky."

  "Some risks are worth taking."

  "Even if they open you up to emotional turmoil?"

  "You can kiss without emotional turmoil. Kissing is part of a biological drive to mate. It doesn't have to have anything to do with the heart."

  "Now you're just talking crazy. Kissing always has to do with the heart."

  "Sounds like we need an experiment to test out your theory." He removed her hand from his chest and lowered his head.

  She didn't pull away, but her tongue did make a nervous swipe across her lips, which only made him want to kiss her more. He took his time going in for the kiss, enjoying the quick intake of her breath as he got closer.

  When his mouth finally touched hers, an explosion of heat swept through his body, and all his scientific analysis went out the door. There was no blood left in his brain for thinking; it was rushing to all the other parts of his body, taking him away on a river of desire and need.

  And Grace didn't just let him kiss her. No, she kissed him back with her own fiery heat, opening her lips to his, inviting his tongue inside, taking him deeper, making him want so much more. All of his senses were completely engaged as he wrapped his arms around her and brought her breasts against his chest, her hips against his.

  Her arms came around his neck, and even if he'd had a thought of ending the kiss, there was no way she was going along with it. Each short breath in between just sent them back in for another taste, another touch. They couldn't get enough.

  He'd told her he could kiss without emotion. Desire and sex were basic human needs, but this felt like more, like the beginning of something…or maybe the end…the end of who he'd once been. He'd always been someone who could walk away and not look back, whose sole purpose in life was to create, invent, develop something new and then move on.

  But this kiss, this need for Grace, was as old as time. He wasn't the smartest guy in the room right now; he was just a man who wanted a woman in the worst kind of way.

  When Grace finally stepped back
and out of his embrace, he felt an immediate icy chill, an almost desperate need to reach for her again. He was still starving, still thirsty, still wanting…

  But Grace had taken a few steps away, adding more distance with each step until she was halfway across the room. He could see the sparkle in her green eyes, the pink swell of her lips, the red in her cheeks, the motion of her breasts as she drank in deep breaths of air.

  He felt hard and tight and a little pissed off. He wasn't just frustrated; he was angry at himself. He didn't need this. He never should have started it. What the hell was he thinking?

  "I thought you said you could kiss without caring," Grace said, her gaze raking his. "There's a lot of emotion in your eyes right now, Ian."

  "Yours, too."

  "I never said I wasn't emotional. That's actually my problem. I usually care too much. This was your experiment, not mine."

  "Well, I never make conclusions based on one experiment."

  "So you want to kiss me again? If you do, I think you'll like me even more," she said with a cockiness that already made him like her more.

  Grace might not care for scientists, but he could see that she enjoyed a challenge. That was something they had in common. They both liked to win.

  "And then what will you do?" she continued. "You'll be distracted by thoughts of me when you should be working on your next invention. You won't like that at all."

  He probably wouldn't. "You have it all figured out," he said. "But what about you, Grace? Are you willing to risk kissing me again, liking me more—me, a man who stands for everything you hate?"

  She frowned at that reminder, as if she'd almost forgotten who he was. And then he was a little sorry he'd brought it up.

  Before she could answer, the kitchen door opened, and Tyler came in with his arms and hands overflowing with rocks and pine cones and small tree needles. He dropped some of his load on his way to the kitchen table.

  "I got a lot," he said proudly.

  "You did," he said, as he realized he'd completely forgotten about Tyler. He saw a flash of guilt in Grace's eyes as well. "We can make some excellent land features with that."

  "Can we do it now?"

  "Ian has to go," Grace answered for him. When his gaze swung to hers, she added, "Don't forget about your cocktail party."

  He had forgotten, and that was because she was a huge distraction.

  "And we should think about dinner," Grace told Tyler. "We can work on the science project tomorrow. It doesn't have to all be done tonight."

  "But Ian has to help me. Will you come by tomorrow after school?" Tyler asked, worry in his eyes. "We still need to paint the volcano and you know how to do it the right way."

  "I'm sure I could help you," Grace said.

  "No, it's our project," Tyler said stubbornly.

  The last thing Ian wanted to be was another man disappointing Tyler by not showing up. "I can help you tomorrow," he said.

  "Are you sure?" Grace asked. "What about your conference?"

  "I'll make it work. I told you before I like to finish what I start."

  Her eyes gleamed at the double entendre in his words, but she didn't answer back.

  "I'll meet you after school tomorrow, Ty." He pulled out his phone, then turned to Grace. "Why don't you give me your phone number? We'll touch base." He punched in the number she gave him, then gave her his.

  "Why don't you wash your hands, Ty? Then we'll get pizza," Grace said.

  "Okay. See you tomorrow, Ian," Tyler said happily, as he ran out of the room.

  "I'll walk you out," Grace told him.

  He grabbed his coat off the back of the kitchen chair and followed her to the front door.

  She paused, her hand on the knob. "If you change your mind, we can finish the volcano without you."

  "I won't change my mind. I won't let Tyler down."

  "He's not your problem."

  "I don't see him as a problem, just as a kid who has asked me to help him."

  "You're being very generous."

  He shrugged. "It's just how it is. When are his grandparents coming?"

  "I'm not sure. They said they would call me when they figure out their flights. It will probably be evening, so after school would be the best time for Tyler. I just don't want to take you away from your conference, Ian."

  He suspected that she wanted him to say no, wanted him to let Tyler down, wanted him to prove to her again that scientists couldn't be trusted.

  "It won't be too much. I'll have plenty of time earlier in the day to get to panels and speeches that I want to hear. Why don't I meet you at the school and follow you to Tyler's house? You're still planning to spend the night there?"

  "I think it's the best plan. I've convinced myself that nothing happened here, but I don't want to take any chances."

  "It's probably better if you stay at Tyler's," he said, feeling the same niggling doubt as she did. "What's the name of your school?"

  "Whitmore Elementary."

  "I'll look up the address."

  "Okay. School ends at three."

  "I figured."

  As they ran out of small talk, their gazes met, and the air sizzled between them. It would be best if he said nothing, but he hadn't been making the best decisions all day. "What happened in the kitchen—it wasn't an experiment, Grace; it was a need. But you already know that, don't you?"

  "Yes. I wanted to kiss you, too," she admitted. "But we're both smart enough to know that this isn't going anywhere."

  "Not everything has to go somewhere."

  "But it always does—whether it's a dead end or happily ever after." She cocked her head to the right, giving him a thoughtful look. "You probably don't believe in happily ever after…that's a little too close to miracles and Santa Claus for you, isn't it?"

  "I might be more cynical than you, Grace, but I believe in being happy. Whether it's forever…" He shrugged. "Who knows? There are a lot of variables to the ever after part. And considering the state of your parents' bitter divorce, I'm surprised you believe in marriage."

  "It doesn't totally make sense, I agree. Their divorce made me wary and probably overly suspicious of every man's intent, but I still want what my grandparents had, what my grandmother called a great love. She told me so many stories about the love she and my grandfather had. They'd write each other poetry. It was amazing. Obviously, my parents went down a different path, but who's to say I can't follow in my grandparents' footsteps instead?"

  "No one."

  "What's life if you can't have your dreams?" she added. "I know you have dreams, too, Ian. They might not be about love, but they're still part of you."

  "That's true," he murmured. "Although, my dreams are…changing…"

  "In what way?"

  "I'm not sure yet. I've hit one of those walls where I need to bounce off and figure out where to go next. I've had my head down, pedal to the metal, going full steam after the prototype filtration system I just finished. Now it's done, or at least my part in it. I'm trying to figure out what's next."

  "What will be next?" she asked curiously.

  He shook his head. "I have no idea. I thought I might get some inspiration this week."

  "From the conference?"

  He nodded, but at the moment all of his inspiration was coming from her. He told himself that would change when he got back to the hotel, when he immersed himself in science talk with science people.

  "Then you should get to it," she said, opening the door.

  He knew he should; he just didn't really want to. He was having a hard time forcing himself to walk out of her house. He stalled one more second. "If you have any more problems tonight, call me."

  "If I have any problems tonight, I'll call the police."

  "Good idea. Then call me." On his way out the door, he stole one last kiss. Her surprised lips parted under his, and he really wanted to linger, but he heard Tyler coming down the hall.

  "Good-bye, Ian," she said, her green eyes sparkling bright aga
in.

  "Just good night, not good-bye. You and I—we may not know where we're headed, but I know we're not done yet."

  Nine

  After returning to Silverstone's, Ian took a cold shower, spending at least fifteen minutes under an icy stream of water until he cooled down. It wasn't easy. He kept reliving one of the best kisses he'd ever had. What had started out as a challenge had turned into a hell of a lot more.

  He'd known Grace would be passionate, but still he'd been jolted by the need that had swept through him. He'd never felt like he had to have a woman until today. But Grace? Could he have picked someone more problematic?

  Grace was not a woman who lived on the surface of life; she was complex, stubborn—sometimes ridiculously so—but that just made her more interesting. She could be bitter and cynical but she could also be idealistic and optimistic, as evidenced by her kindness to Tyler, her belief in Santa and miracles.

  She might judge scientists by her father's standards, but even to scientists—like him—she could also be amazingly generous, allowing a perfect stranger to spend the night in her house because of a snowstorm.

  And all those complicated traits aside, she was funny, sharp, and interesting to talk to. She was a challenge, no doubt about that. A challenge he should walk away from. But he'd already committed himself to seeing her at least one more time. So, he'd have to walk away after tomorrow's get-together. There was no way he was letting Tyler down just because he had the hots for the kid's babysitter.

  He stepped out of the shower and dried off, then got dressed for the conference cocktail party in black slacks and a light-gray dress shirt, his thoughts turning to the upcoming event.

  Science was his game, and the people downstairs were the players. They were his people—the people he should be concentrating on instead of one very pretty redhead with dazzling green eyes and a smile that always made him breathe a little faster. He definitely needed to get his focus back to what mattered most, and that was his career—at least it always had been.

  When he got downstairs, the grand ballroom was packed with several hundred men and women: scientists, tech experts, CEO's, investors, and politicians. The level of noise was high as everyone battled to get their opinion heard.

 

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