by Cari Quinn
“What harem?”
She jerked a thumb ringed with a narrow silver band toward the opposite side of the property. Three women of varying heights with glimmering blonde hair and brightly hued minidresses stood together, avidly watching him and Rachel.
Mindy, Mandy, and Michelle. He’d enjoyed all three of them at one time or another over the past year.
“They’re friends.” Shawn shrugged and pushed away his drink. He’d be damned if he drowned his sorrows in vodka all night.
“Friends who want seconds.”
He flashed a grin. “Or thirds.”
Rachel tossed her long dark hair, and the ends whipped across his cheek, stirring her scent. And his blood. “Pig.”
“Oink, oink.”
She sniffed. “And you say I’m indiscriminating.”
“You are. A guy with a Rolex and a sweet car is all it takes, baby, and you know it.”
He knew she wasn’t like that at all, but he appreciated immensely the way her eyes fired with indignation. Hell, he preferred any reaction from her than conviviality.
“You have a Rolex and a sweet car.” She managed to look down her nose at him, though he was several inches taller than her five-nine. “Haven’t been there, have I?”
Unless first kisses counted, which they didn’t. Not when said first kiss occurred sixteen years ago during a round of spin the bottle. “Nah.” He went back to his drink. “Actually, I’d guess I’m one of the few guys here who hasn’t seen your breasts.”
“Wrong again, smart-ass.”
Happy not to press the point, Shawn surveyed the assembled guests. People were everywhere. Clumped together in groups on the manicured lawn, lounging on floats in the mammoth pool, draped on chaise lounges sipping mai tais. Everyone seemed to be in a party mood but him.
And judging from Rachel’s long-suffering sigh, it was about to get worse.
“I might as well tell you now.” Her long fingers stroked his toothpick. “I’m flying to New York tomorrow.”
“Gonna give East Coast sex a try for a change?” Though the question was meant in jest, the purse of her lips made his shoulders tighten.
Great. Just frickin’ great.
“I’m going to…connect with an old friend.”
“Ever consider connecting with your oldest friend?” When she rolled her eyes, he could tell she’d taken his statement as yet another joke. Damn best-buddy curse. “Which old friend?” His suspicions mounted at her silence. “I didn’t know you knew anyone in New York, except --”
She nodded briefly. “I’m going to see Ryan.”
She waited for his response, even if it were merely an assessing flicker of his mossy green eyes. She got nothing.
Typical Shawn. If he was disappointed in her, a Tibetan monk made a chattier companion.
“So you’re just going to sulk now?”
“I’m hardly sulking.” He tossed back his drink in two swallows. “It’s your life. Your choice what you do with it.”
She tapped her glossy fingernails on the glass tabletop as the music shifted to something more upbeat. The last rays of sun had disappeared, but the pinprick white lights draped between flaming tiki torches lit up the night. Even the air changed, becoming sultrier, sexier.
California nights couldn’t be beat. Unless you were trying, as she was, to get away before the life everyone thought you should be living closed in around you.
It wasn’t as if she was leaving town permanently. Was it really so awful she wanted to take a vacation? To do something impulsive without getting the public consensus first?
“I value your opinion. I --” Her heart gave a nasty jolt as he reared to his feet and seized her suddenly limp wrist. “What’re you doing?”
He glared at her, firelight gilding his golden hair. Smoking in his unfathomable eyes. “It’s called dancing. Let’s do it.”
Because the phrase let’s do it made her a bit too hot and shivery, she took a steadying breath. “Oh.” She rose and shoved her chair back from the table. Her arms and legs couldn’t seem to work together, leaving her feeling no more coordinated than a marionette bopping on the end of a string. “Weird time to dance, don’t you think?”
“No.”
Shawn tugged her away from the table and onto the makeshift dance floor. Before she could argue further, she was in his arms, her body neatly cleaved to his. Chests, stomachs, thighs. Right on down the line.
Her pulse tripped a moment before her feet. What was the matter with her tonight? “I was trying to have a serious conversation. Not to --” Her stumbling feet stopped altogether at the solid column of heat pressing into her belly. Her eyes widened. “You’re hard!”
He didn’t even have the courtesy to look ashamed. Actually he appeared amused. “You don’t say.”
She rubbed her hand over her mouth, easing back to keep from bumping into it again. “I’m your best friend. You shouldn’t get aroused when you’re dancing with me.”
“Why not? You’re a beautiful woman.” He spun her out smoothly, brought her back so his body spooned hers and his long, thick length nestled into the cleft of her ass. She closed her eyes, appalled that her heart rate climbed with every sway of his hips. Oh, God, this felt so good. So incredibly intimate, even with the other couples dancing just a few feet away.
This wasn’t right. He was her best friend, the man everyone had told her she should want. But she didn’t. Didn’t.
Yeah, she’d wanted sex, but not with Shawn. And now that he was dirty dancing up against her for everyone to gawk at, she could admit her need to escape to New York was partially his fault. Just because their families and most of their friends had thought they belonged together ever since he’d accompanied her to her first junior high dance didn’t mean it made sense.
What was between them wasn’t about passion. She’d seen too many good friendships trashed when sheet aerobics were added into the mix. He meant way too much to her to risk what they had at the request of her hormones. Or because their mothers thought they’d make gorgeous babies.
She’d never blithely gone along with her family’s wishes before. No reason to start now. Even if she’d just gotten a firsthand feel of how well he’d, uh, grown since she’d seen him in the shower so many years ago.
“Why haven’t you been talking to me lately, Rach?” Shawn’s breath steamed into her ear, sending a trail of fire from the nape of her neck to her toes.
“What do you mean?”
“You used to tell me things.” He walked his fingers down her shoulder, and she fought back a shudder. “Private things. Now you keep everything between us G-rated.”
Because of this, you jerk.
She squeezed her eyes shut. How long had she been feeling this bizarre undercurrent between them? Weeks. Months, even. A heaviness in her chest when he stepped too close, a thrill along her spine every time he linked his fingers with hers.
She was lonely, that’s all. It’d been too long since she’d shared anything more than takeout Chinese with a man, so of course Shawn sent her libido into overdrive.
“You’re just doing this to keep me from Ryan.” Reassured she’d finally discovered his angle, she craned her head to stare at him. “You’re pretending there’s…heat between us because you don’t want to deal with the fallout if something goes wrong. You’re trying to protect me again. But it’s none of your goddamned business what I do. Or who.”
The venom in her tone shocked even her, but he only laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretending there’s heat.” His large, warm hands slid down her sides, hardly touching her, but setting off a wicked burn of anticipation between her legs she couldn’t control. “You’re in denial, Cooper. I’m not.”
Her pussy flooded with moisture, proving how right he was. “Yeah, sure. Suddenly, you’re all hot and bothered.” She hoped he couldn’t hear the quaver in her voice, but she doubted she’d get her wish. He simply knew her too well. “I think it’s just because you don’t like the idea of me leaving.”
“Just because you’re blind, don’t ascribe motives to my actions that aren’t there. No, I don’t want you to see him. Ever.” An emotion she couldn’t read flashed in his eyes. “But not just because of me. Have you forgotten he dumped you at eighteen to run off to New York, when you were --”
“Don’t. Just don’t.” Rachel hissed out a breath. “It’s been ten years. I’m over it. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t wondered what if…”
“You know what if. His career was all he ever cared about. You came second.”
She rubbed her eyes, willing her mind to settle and her body to stop betraying her by trembling each time he brushed against her. The last thing she needed was to be dissuaded when she’d finally gathered up the nerve to go after what she wanted.
Or at least what she thought she might want, even if it was only temporary. Which equaled pretty much the same thing.
“We were kids then. Things are different now. He’s achieved the success he’s always wanted. Besides, ever heard of a harmless fling?”
“A fling? With a man you used to be in love with? Get real, Rachel.” With a snap of his wrist, he spun her out again, twirling her until she collided hard into his muscled chest. She gasped, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Where do you think you’ll fit into his world?”
Swallowing, Rachel tipped back her head. She was actually dizzy, and she was beginning to think it wasn’t from Shawn’s killer dance moves. “We’ll see, won’t we? I’ve been down that road once before. Now I want to see where this one takes me.”
“As you wish. If you need to go, go. But I’m coming with you.”
That she hadn’t expected.
“Say what?” At his mulish stare -- and the demanding press of his hands against the small of her back -- she swiftly backtracked. “Look, Shawn, Ryan’s publisher is putting on this big masquerade party to celebrate the release of his new book. We’ll have one memorable night. Or a memorable couple of hours.” She huffed out a breath when he cocked a dark blond eyebrow. “I hardly need a chaperone.”
“No, but you may need a friend.”
Immediately she softened. Staying mad at Shawn was a losing proposition. He was, after all, the person who’d helped her balance on her first two-wheeler and hadn’t stopped steadying her since. “There are phones, you know.” She laid her hand lightly on his chest. “I’m only going for ten days. Once school starts up again, I won’t be able to get away. This is the right time.”
“Let’s say he falls madly in love with you again.” Even as she wondered if she’d imagined the hurt undercutting his deep, honeyed voice, she dismissed the idea. Why would he possibly be hurt? “Then what? You leave your position at CB Middle School, leave your family, leave --”
Me.
He hadn’t had to say the word aloud.
She bit the inside of her cheek. In their nearly thirty-year friendship, Shawn had always demonstrated his loyalty through actions, not words. Or in this case, a soulful look that set off a quiver low in her belly.
Wow, he was really giving this acting job his all.
“No.” Quietly, she repeated, “No. I’ll never leave you.” Her fingers slid into the opening in his shirt, brushing over warm, smooth skin and rough hair, but the warning flash in his eyes made her snatch her hand back. “Don’t you get that yet, Griffin?”
She waited for his trademark slow grin. It always started with a slight twist of his lips as he upped the wattage degree by degree. But this smile wasn’t merely unhurried, it was nonexistent.
“I won’t wait forever, Rachel.”
While she struggled to decipher what he’d said, her world narrowed to him clasping her fingers in a punishing grip. As their gazes locked, her breath lodged in her throat.
“No,” she whispered, her lashes sweeping down to block her view as his mouth met hers.
It wasn’t a kiss. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, have labeled it as such. More, it was a claiming, a territorial seizing a heartbeat before his tongue demanded entrance.
Shawn, her brain screamed. This was Shawn. The child she’d built sandcastles with, the boy she’d called to take her to the hospital the night she’d miscarried Ryan’s baby.
Shawn, the man she loved more than anyone.
That was what had her slamming her hands against his chest, forcing him back.
“How could you?” She gave him only seconds to answer. When he didn’t, she tore off across the lawn.
Chapter Two
It took her over an hour to walk home. Halfway there, Rachel pulled off her pumps to walk barefoot on the steaming asphalt. She deliberately took side roads in case Shawn came looking for her, winding around the luxury cars lined along curbs until she’d traveled far enough that the breeze reeked of the ocean.
She stopped on the sidewalk in front of her condo and bit her lip. She should go inside and make sure she was all set for the flight, although she knew she was. Prepared was her middle name. But glimpsing the beckoning slice of moon through the rustling palm trees, she wavered.
Here? Paradise at her fingertips.
Upstairs? Facing Morgan, her older sister and roommate, and her inevitable interrogation. Why’d you leave the party so soon? Where’s Shawn? Didn’t he drive you?
“Easy choice,” she murmured, darting through the trees.
As she ran, she dropped her shoes and twisted her dress up and over her head. This was their stretch of beach, private, secluded. Even if someone strolled by, the heavy darkness bisected only by a slash of moonlight would conceal her. She debated momentarily at the water’s edge, then shed her lacy bra and panties before diving beneath the rippling black surface.
The first kiss of the waves was jolting, the second, a caress so warm and silky she shuddered. As a lifelong swimmer and former lifeguard, she knew it wasn’t safe to go for a dip alone. Things lurked in the ocean, snapping, slithery things, and the undertow could be brutal. But right then, she had no choice but to take her chances in the deep.
She swam furiously, cutting through the gentle swells as easily as an eel. Again and again she went under, comforted by the water’s gentle resistance as she tried to outswim the uproar in her mind.
With each stroke, she pushed herself for more. She wanted the burn in her muscles. Needed her arms and legs to shake with exertion. Anything so she didn’t have to think. At last, she shifted onto her back to let the breeze cool her flushed skin and dry her dripping face.
Since she was a little girl, swimming and music had been her havens. Whenever she felt stressed or mad -- or hell, even happy -- she retreated to the ocean or the piano to lose herself in her own world. But tonight she couldn’t let her worries go, not with her rock-solid foundation crumbling beneath her.
Why had Shawn kissed her? Worse, why had she let him?
You know exactly why.
Besides the sleek cougar grace he exhibited whether he wore outrageously expensive designer suits or ripped jeans and a T-shirt, he had a smile that rivaled the fireworks on the Fourth of July. His hooded green eyes offered wicked delights his equally naughty lips promised to fulfill, if a woman didn’t exhaust herself on the fantasy before she’d sampled the reality.
Not that she fantasized about Shawn. She didn’t think of him that way. At least she fought mightily hard not to. He was her best girlfriend, except he just happened to be male.
They did everything together. Played video games, watched sunsets, took lazy Sunday drives in his Porsche. Hell, he’d even watched Titanic on cable with her -- four times -- and always tossed her tissues when Jack froze to death. And he’d only laughed at her tears twice.
She’d taken him shopping, taken him to Astros and Raiders games, even taken him to her high school homecoming dance two years in a row. But she’d never taken him to bed. Except one time when they’d been teenagers, she’d rarely allowed her mind to go there. Until tonight.
Now that it had, it didn’t seem to want to go anywhere else.
In a blink, she was back in
his bathroom all those years ago. She’d wandered in to ask him a question, nothing important, just everyday stuff. But sometime when she hadn’t been looking, Shawn had matured into a boy on the verge of manhood. He’d known it, even if she hadn’t.
He’d leaned out, his bronze shoulders gleaming with water, to shoo her away before closing the shower door. But she hadn’t left.
His hair had been longer in those days, wavy and as bright as sunlight. Over the years, the blond had darkened to a rich gold he now wore clipped short in a style that hung low in front to flirt with his eyes. But back then, his hair had brushed his shoulder blades every time he took the water full in the face.
She had never glimpsed a man’s body before that day. At fifteen she’d never gone beyond the one hasty, fumbling closet clutch she’d shared with Shawn two years before at Tony Felder’s house. But as she’d examined his nebulous form silhouetted behind the glass -- the corded line of his arms, the flex of his muscular legs, and especially the swell of his grade-A ass -- her mouth had gone dry.
And another part of her had gone wet.
Rachel ducked her head under the water and held it there until her lungs quaked with the need to breathe. She emerged with a gasp, her head light from the extended oxygen deprivation. But the images remained.
Her best friend. He’d never let her down, not once. Every time she’d gotten dumped, or worse, he’d been by her side in an instant, no matter what time of day or what he was doing. She’d always joked he’d be her man of honor at her someday, far-off wedding. He’d merely smiled without making the same offer in return.
She pressed her water-shriveled fingertips to her lips. Did he have feelings for her? Actual man-for-a-woman feelings? Could it be possible?
As quickly as the thought arose, she pushed it back down. Nope. No way. Shawn had had his chance with her a year after the shower incident. She’d been overcome by curiosity about sex, which had led to her suggestion they do some exploring of their own -- and to Shawn’s revelation that he already had explored, thank you very much, and that she was a kid who needed to keep her mind on her classes where it belonged.