by Olivia Rush
Professional, professional, I told myself as I headed back to the living room.
Callie was there, glass of wine in hand as she stood in front of a shelf of pictures.
“I don’t have much of a selection,” I said, “but I hope you grabbed something good.”
“Honestly, I don’t know a damn thing about wine. I just did the same thing I do when I go to the store: pick out the bottle with the prettiest label.”
I laughed to myself as I picked the bottle from off the counter. It was a cabernet, and the label featured a sketch of a French vineyard—it did look pretty nice. After pouring myself a glass, I stepped over to where Callie stood.
“Jason is such a freaking cute kid,” she said, her eyes going over the pictures of him from when he was younger.
“Thanks,” I said. “He gets it from me.”
She smirked and gave me another jab.
“It’s still really impressive that you’re doing such a good job as a single dad,” she said. “I can really tell he loves you.”
“You’ve managed to only see the nice parts of it,” I said. “It’s not all a bed of roses. And it still kills me to have to leave the poor guy with a live-in nanny for half the week. Kid needs a mom.”
Before either of us could say another word, I glanced out to the balcony.
“It’s pretty mild out,” I said. “Let’s go outside.”
She agreed, and moments later the two of us were out on the balcony overlooking Brooklyn. The balcony wasn’t huge, but it was more than enough space for a couple of chairs and a small table.
“I can’t believe you’ve got a balcony,” she said. “People would kill for something like this.”
“I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it means,” I said.
Callie gave me a sly look before taking a glance down to the street level. “I don’t know,” she said. “You look like you might be able to handle the fall.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Might just get me pissed off.”
She smiled and took another sip of her wine.
“Just so you know,” I said, “you did a hell of a job with that information in there. I knew I was getting some investigative skills when I brought you on board, but that’s really putting it mildly.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Glad to help. Though, I’m not really doing this just out of the kindness of my heart—there’s a hell of a story waiting at the end of it for me if I play my cards right.”
“That’s true,” I said before taking a long sip, the wine already mellowing me out. “But still, the way you were able to just throw yourself into this—it’s amazing.”
“Maybe amazing, maybe a little sad. I mean, it’s not like I have a dating life to worry about.”
I shook my head. “I still have a hard time believing that,” I said. “Girl like you in a city like this—you should have guys lined up from here to the Bronx.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the sight of a blush spreading across her cheeks—I’d clearly picked a sensitive subject.
“I’m just not much of a dater,” she said. “I mean, I’ve gone on a few here and there, but it’s just, um, not for me.”
“‘Not for you’?” I asked. “Love and companionship and romance just aren’t for you?”
Another wave of hot blush broke out across her fair skin.
“OK,” I said, “you’re gonna have to let me in on what’s going on here. It’s not like you to get all shy and withdrawn all of a sudden.”
She opened her mouth to speak then shook her head, as if thinking better of the idea.
“It’s stupid,” she said. “I mean, nothing you want to hear about.”
“Now, you have to know that you can’t say something like that and not have me instantly want to know all about it.”
“Geez, I kind of walked right into that one, didn’t I?” she said.
A moment passed. Callie took a long sip of her wine, finishing her glass.
“You want to hear it, you’ll top this off,” she said.
“Ha, fair enough,” I said, lifting myself out of my seat and finding myself very curious about this chapter of her story.
17
STONE
Moments later I was back with the bottle of wine and a blanket for Callie. I poured her a new glass and topped mine off. I sat still for a moment, listening as the sounds of traffic drifted up from below, blending with the low howl of the evening wind. Far off in the distance, the Empire State Building was lit up in fall oranges, browns, and reds. The air had taken on a chill, and I watched as my breath formed and dissipated in the dark in front of me.
I handed the thick wool blanket over to Callie, and she wasted no time wrapping herself up in it tight.
“OK,” I said, “I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain, and now it’s your turn.”
“Ugh,” she said, shaking her head, her curls bouncing. “It’s so stupid.”
“I promise that if I want to laugh I’ll at least be gentlemanly enough to go inside and do it where you can’t see me.”
She gave me a playful grin, her eyes flashing.
“They really don’t make them like they used to, huh?” she said.
One more sip, and she was off again.
“There’s really not much to say. I mean, so you know how I told you was a total awkward geek in middle school?”
“Yeah...”
“Well, that didn’t last when I started high school. I was still pretty gawky, but over the course of my freshman year, something happened. My bony frame started to fill out, my face cleared up, I learned how to control my insanely frizzy hair, and, well, these happened.”
She set down her glass and grabbed hold of her ample breasts.
“I think I know where this story’s going,” I said.
“I bet you do, because I’m sure you were on the other side of it for more than one girl.”
“Let’s hear the story, and I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Fine, fine. So, what happened was I went from a girl that couldn’t get a guy to pay attention to me if my life depended on it to a girl who couldn’t walk down the hall without every guy eye-fucking me. And because I wasn’t one of those girls who was always pretty, I had no idea how to handle it. All I could think of was dressing in baggy clothes to hide my body and keeping my head down.
“This worked for a little while, but it didn’t do anything about the other part of the problem—that I was really, really into some of these guys. I told my mom, and, bless her heart, she’s one of those women who thinks that every guy has one thing on his mind and one thing only—not much room for subtlety with advice like that.
“One day, one of the guys I really liked—maybe the guy I really liked most of all—came up to talk to me. His name was Bryce Walsh, and he was the captain of the basketball team. Ugh, he was so damn gorgeous—tall, built, all that crap. And he was so popular. At first I thought it was a joke, that this was like one of those teen comedies where the guys trick the ugly girl, but I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t ugly anymore.
“Anyway, Bryce asked me out, and I said yes, which surprised me. He picked me up in this totally sweet Mercedes convertible that night—I was pretty sure it was just something his rich dad bought for him, but I didn’t care. He drove me all around town, we stopped for ice cream, and then we hung out with some of his cool friends from the basketball team. And when he dropped me off, he walked me to the door and kissed me. It was amazing.
“And it went on for a couple of months. He and I were inseparable. We made plans to go to the fall dance together, and I spent so much time fussing over my dress and everything with my friends that I couldn’t believe it. I was planning on doing everything that night, if you know what I mean. So, we went to the dance, and it was perfect, then we went to a hotel room, and one thing led to another, and after we were done, he said that he had a line on a really cool party. I agreed to go, of course—stupid me was convinced that I was part of the cool
kids’ club at this point.”
I took a sip of my wine, finding myself leaning forward in interest.
“So we went to the party, and I had drink after drink shoved in front of my face, which I happily guzzled down. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I didn’t care—I’d just lost my virginity to the great Bryce Walsh. And on top of everything, we were in love! At least, I was in love with him.”
“I officially don’t like where this story is going,” I said.
“Oh, just you wait,” she replied with a sardonic tone.
“The party went on, and after a while I lost track of Bryce. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then, I started to get a little nervous. After an hour, I was starting to freak out a little bit. I mean, where the hell would he go without telling me? I asked one of his friends from the team, and all he said was, ‘Uh, upstairs, I think.’ So I went up to the second floor of this giant house, making my way through all the couples making out in the hall, and I eventually heard his voice, his big ‘oh yeah’ that he liked to call out when he made an awesome shot. And it was coming from behind the door of a bedroom.
“I knew right away that something bad was going down, and little did I know how accurate that turn of phrase would be. I hurried over, and without knocking or anything, threw the door open. And sure enough, right there on the edge of the bed was the great Bryce Walsh, the back of some blonde’s head between his legs and some big-boobed brunette shirtless next to him.”
“Holy shit,” I said. “What did you do?”
“I don’t remember what happened exactly—I was, um, a little drunk—but I remember screaming just about every bad word at him as he jumped off the bed, his boner flopping around like a pool noodle. I ran down the stairs in tears, and he followed me down. Bryce finally caught up to me outside, and his ‘excuse’ was something like, ‘Oh, I didn’t know you thought you and I were exclusive, I thought every girl knew that I only did open relationships’—basically the lamest thing you could think of.”
“So, I take it that was the end of you and Bryce.”
“It was the end of me and dating, period. I swore off guys for the rest of high school, convinced I was the stupidest girl alive for falling for a player’s charms like that. Then high school ended, and I went off to college. I joined the student paper there and threw all of my energy into it—the last thing I wanted was to date someone else. And before I knew it, the four years had gone by and I hadn’t even so much as kissed a guy.”
I watched as she sipped her wine, her eyes locked dead ahead. She reminded me of a war vet recounting some gruesome battlefield memory.
“That might explain a few things,” I said, after a few moments of silence.
Callie cocked her head and lifted an eyebrow.
“Such as?”
“Such as your easy, natural way with men.”
For a flash of time, she looked confused. Then she narrowed her eyes and began looking around, as if trying to find something to throw at me.
“You’re lucky I’m nice,” she said. “Otherwise you’d be sitting in a puddle of surprisingly tasty wine right now.
“Why would you be surprised?” I asked. “You think I’d have bad taste in wine?”
She took another sip through a smile.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she said after a time.
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, I’ve just never laid all that crap out on anyone like that before. It’s like an awful trip through a past that I thought I’d put behind me. Sorry to treat you like you’re my shrink or something.”
“It’s nothing,” I said. “We’ve all got our histories.”
“I’m sure you’ve got a hell of a past,” she said. “And I’ve only gotten a hint of it.”
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her gaze drop down to the burned patch of skin on my forearm. I could sense that this was her way of trying to coax some answers out of me.
Though I knew there was a little obligation to offer up some answers, I just couldn’t do it. I hated talking about my past. And I never would’ve said it to Callie, but the demons I had lurking in the shadows of my memory went a little beyond getting jilted by a big man on campus.
“And a hint’s all you’re getting,” I said, putting just enough of an edge into my tone to make it clear that there wasn’t going to be any debating the issue.
She got the hint and let it drop.
“Brrr!” she said after a time. “Got cold out here.”
I was feeling the same way. The temperature had dropped in the last half hour, and I wasn’t drinking my wine fast enough to keep my body warm. That didn’t mean I didn’t have a very, very nice little buzz floating through my head, however.
“Come here, then,” I said.
I pulled my chair closer to Callie’s. Once we were right next to each other, I grabbed her blanket and pulled it over my body before slipping my arm around her. She gave me a look, one that suggested she was a little surprised I was being so physical.
I wasn’t too concerned. The night was cold, and she was warm. If she had any protests, they went away as she set her head down on my shoulder, her curly hair draping over me. I felt the rise and fall of her chest against mine, along with the gentle thudding of her heart through her ribs.
At that moment, I was more content and at peace than I’d been in as long as I could remember.
So, it only made sense that I’d lean in and give Callie a kiss right on those gorgeous, yearning lips.
18
CALLIE
My eyes went wide as Stone’s lips stayed locked onto mine. I just wasn’t expecting him to kiss me. Sure, the two of us sitting there like that, my head on his round, solid shoulder, was pretty intimate, but I’d just assumed that some kind of wall had been built between the two of us, one that prevented any kind of intimacy more than a hug here and there.
But no, his lips were on mine. That intoxicating taste flowed into my mouth instantly, followed by his tongue. I felt like I should’ve resisted—after all, I’d made the same decision that I’d assumed Stone had made, to not let what had happened between us happen again. The longer we kissed, however, the more all of those high-minded ideas of keeping things platonic and professional seemed to just float away.
Stone must’ve felt or sensed that little tinge of hesitation in me as we kissed. He took his mouth away from mine and looked deep into my eyes with those gorgeous emeralds of his.
“You OK with this?” he asked.
I knew what he wanted—the only question was what I wanted. I knew this was my last chance to stick to my plan, to keep Stone at the distance I originally meant to. If I wanted us to just be Callie and Stone, the incredible detective team and nothing more, now was the time to make the call.
“I’m way more than OK,” was what I said instead.
And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t exactly how I felt.
Stone’s sensual, inviting lips formed into a small smile, and he went right back in for another kiss. His tongue slipped into my mouth, moving over mine. Tingles broke out across my body, and all I wanted was more, more of him.
Thankfully, Stone seemed to have the same thing in mind. After a little more making out, he pulled away from me, stood up, and took my hand. With his typical effortless strength, he guided me out of the chair and back inside from the balcony. I glanced at the couch as we entered the apartment, wondering if he’d be leading me to that like he had the last time we’d slept together.
But instead, my hand in his, Stone led me through the main room of the apartment and down the hallway leading to his bedroom. My heart raced, my pulse quickening with each step. I couldn’t believe how much I wanted what was about to happen—I’d spent so much mental energy hiding my desires from myself, and now that I was letting them finally come out, they were almost overwhelming.
My heart raced, my legs felt weak, and I had to bite my lip hard to handle the arousal that was spreading throu
gh my body. I wanted Stone’s arms around me more than I could imagine wanting anything else.
We soon stepped over the threshold of the bedroom and were back at each other instantly. My hands went right for Stone’s shirt, a sigh slipping past my lips as I laid my hands on his solid, strong chest. The man loomed over me, nearly a foot taller than I was—and I loved it. Just being near him like this was enough for a feeling of contentment to ease over my flesh, to set my mind at rest. It was like nothing I’d experienced with a man before.
My fingers moved quickly down Stone’s chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt. With a quick tug, I yanked it off over his body, his magnificent torso now on full display before me. Just the sight of him without a shirt was enough to get me wet as hell, and as I moved my fingertips over his perfectly defined abs, I knew I needed more, more.
And Stone evidently felt the same way. He pulled me out of my sweater as quickly as he could, the air in the bedroom cool on my exposed flesh. His hands fell down to my hips, the arousal I’d been feeling building and building even more at the touch of his rough, callous hands. His hands slid up and over my curves, my nipples going hard as he moved around my bra clasp.
With an effortless motion, Stone undid my bra and slipped the lacy thing off and over my shoulders. My breasts now exposed, my red curls hanging over them, Stone took a step back, an admiring look in his eyes as though he was a connoisseur appreciating a fine piece of art.
“What?” I asked, a blush spreading across my cheeks.
“Nothing,” he said, his voice low and heavy with arousal. “You’re just so goddamn beautiful, is all.”
I felt a little overwhelmed. Well, more than a little.
“Aw,” I said, looking away. “You’re gonna make me blush.”
Stone then took my chin into his hand and lifted my face.
“I think it might be a little late for that.”
I was ready for him. Stone leaned in again and kissed me hard, the passion between us almost tangible, as if I could reach out and touch it in the air. We kissed more and more, his hands moving up along my body and taking hold of my breasts, his fingers rubbing and teasing my erect nipples as he did. Then, he gently guided me back toward the bed. I sat back, my head now at eye level with his waist.