All for You

by Christi Barth

  “I learned a long time ago that the world is full of surprises. Simpler to roll with them than to freak out.”

  “Good point, Zen-master.”

  Zane’s arm shot out to point at her grow light in the corner. “What’s going on there?”

  “A silkworm experiment. There’s a summer camp that brings their kids to the park once a week to learn about the ‘mysteries of nature.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. “Or at least, that’s how the head counselor introduces us. Drives me nuts. The kids just want to poke through bear poop with a twig looking for berries. I want them to have fun. Maybe sneak some learning into their pelting each other with moss clumps. But Wallace treats their every visit to the park like a sacred temple experience.”

  “Education should be accessible. Fun. Pretentious jackasses ruin it for all of us.”

  Casey loved how they were on the same wavelength, despite his fancy doctorate. “If I gave you five dollars, would you come back tomorrow and explain that to him?”

  “I don’t need five dollars. I am open to the barter system, however.” His eyes burned with barely leashed heat.

  Huh. They were blue. Blue-gray, actually, like the lake on a rainy day, with a thin ring of almost midnight around the edge. Eyes that she could gaze into for a good long while. Eyes that made her think of lazy Sunday mornings in bed, watching snow fall.

  Zane edged forward. Casey mustered all her willpower to put a hand up before he got any closer. “Hang on. Your barter system seems pretty darn similar to the reward system you showed me last night.”

  “Well, it worked well the first time...” His voice trailed off on a laugh.

  Too well. So much so that her shirt almost unbuttoned itself right there on the edge of the lake. “We got a little ahead of ourselves the first time. And it’s the middle of my work day.”

  “Right. Thanks for reminding me.” He crossed out of the room in three long strides and was back a moment later, lugging a backpack. Or what looked like a backpack if you didn’t notice the wine bottle strapped to its side. “I brought provisions.”

  “Provisions?” God, Zane was adorable. “Like we’re setting off in covered wagons for the gold rush?”

  “Definitely not. I have a class to teach tomorrow. First one, so it’d look bad if I skipped it. Trust me, it’s hard enough to keep everyone’s attention during a summer seminar. My classroom should be in a windowless bunker, thirty feet underground. And that would only cut down on the exterior distractions.”

  “What other kind is there?”

  “Summer weather means shorts are the standard uniform. The women ogle the men, the men ogle the women...it’s a whole cycle of life, evolving and mating. No matter how brilliant my lectures—and let’s be clear, they’re pretty brilliant—it’s hard to compete for attention with tan legs and bikini tops.”

  Amazing that he’d squeezed through the screen door with an ego that huge. “Your lectures are brilliant?” She piled the mocking on top of the word higher than Joel heaped whipped cream on top of his famous chocolate-red wine soufflé. Waited a minute to give Zane the chance to realize he’d ventured to the borderline of douchebag territory. But he didn’t retract it. “You’re so sure of that you want to announce it to the world?”

  “I’m not the only one announcing it. Every major book reviewer, college publication reviewer, and the stack of awards in my office all prove it. My brilliance is well-documented.” He finished off his smug statement with a smirk. “Hiding it would be futile. It’s a fact.” He spun on his heel to point at the poster about the migratory patterns of birds. “Just like the fact that most woodpeckers don’t migrate at all.”

  “I think I’d rather be hanging out with the woodpecker.” Amazing that the interesting, considerate man she’d met last night had done such a one-eighty into an egotistical jerk.

  She wasn’t a fan of people bragging about their laundry list of accomplishments. Of course, that probably rooted in some insecurity about being just a forest ranger. More than a few people who came to the Gorge assumed she was little more than someone who gave directions to the bathroom all day. Their sneers and dismissive tone proved they had no idea she’d studied her butt off to get her environmental science and forestry degree. So yeah, maybe he’d unknowingly hit a sensitive spot.

  “It’s just a single fact about me. Yes, I am brilliant in my field. But that doesn’t tell you that I mix up my left from my right all the time. Or that when I have a nightmare I can’t get back to sleep for the rest of the night. That I drench my eggs in hot sauce. All true. And all those things are equally as important to who I am.”

  “So what you’re saying is that you’re not a self-important ass?”

  “Nope. It’d be no different than you telling people you’re beautiful. Simply a fact that can’t be interpreted as right or wrong. It simply is.”

  Yup. Casey had overreacted. Zane’s argument convinced her of that. Especially with the clever way he’d softened it all with a compliment. “Do you have first day of class jitters?”

  “Nope.” He opened the bag and pulled out an array of containers. Plates. Glasses. Even adorable paper napkins printed with cavorting grapes. Giving in to the inevitability, Casey cleared some room on her desk for the food.

  “Don’t you ever get nervous?”

  “Sure. I’m nervous right now.”

  “Really?” He didn’t show it. Zane was suave, unruffled to the naked eye. Sure his mouth hadn’t stopped running since he’d walked in the door, but once he thawed a bit, he’d been the same way last night. The one thing she could categorically state about the man was that he had no fear of the spoken word. And she sure got a kick out of that.

  “I thought that the surprise, drop-by picnic would guarantee that you’d have lunch with me. Everybody takes time for lunch. Even if I’m not irresistible, these chicken salad sandwiches are.” He gestured at them with all the panache of a game show host. “Now, though, I’m wondering if I’ve annoyed you. Interrupted you at a bad time? Thinking that I shouldn’t wait to pull out the big guns.”

  “Which would be what?”

  “Triple chocolate Kahlúa peanut butter brownies.”

  Zane was sexy, handsome, too smart for his own good, funny, and although she wasn’t quite ready to admit it to him, irresistible. Didn’t matter, though. Casey would share lunch with a boring man twice her age with a bad comb-over to get her hands on one of those brownies.

  “What else did you bring?”

  “Olives. Green and black, because I’ve heard a vicious rumor that there are people in this world who don’t like one or the other.”

  She giggled at his wide eyes of disbelief. “I’m an equal opportunity olive lover.”

  “Good to know. Crackers, white cheddar, smoked gouda and grapes.” He laid out the various components of the spread while he spoke. “Chicken salad sandwiches with watercress. Yes, I know it looks like just a garnish, but it’s spicier than lettuce, and I like a little excitement in my food. And a Mayhew Manor reserve Riesling to wash it all down.” Zane held up a hand. “Yes, I know you’re working. One glass won’t make you insensate. I’ve got sparkling water, too, for after you’ve hit your limit.”

  Insensate. Another giggle almost slipped out. The professor sure did enjoy throwing around the ten-dollar words. Sure, Casey knew what it meant. It would just never occur to her to use it in casual conversation. Yet it was obvious he wasn’t trying to show off. That’s just how his mind worked.

  When Casey thought of sexy body parts, she always started with forearms, dusted with dark hair. Then biceps. Eyes. That strip of belly where the hair arrowed down into a man’s waistband. It never would’ve occurred to her to add a guy’s brain to that list. But listening to Zane, watching his well-developed brain work, turned her on just as much as a well-defined six-pack. Which she happened to
know he also possessed.

  Zane paused, wine bottle tilted, ready to pour. Guess he’d stopped barreling ahead and needed the green light from her to proceed. Casey thought about the container of leftover potato salad she’d shoved into the mini-fridge beside her desk. This spread beat it all to heck. As did more conversation with the curious and funny professor. “I’m glad you interrupted. Lunch is a great idea.”

  “Whew. It’s a relief to know the five minutes I spent slaving over ordering all this from the hotel kitchen wasn’t a waste.”

  What a cutie. “Hey, the thought counts. Especially since you don’t have a kitchen right now. I’m sorry I can’t offer to take you outside and turn this into a real picnic on the grass. I need to stick by the phone. Busy season, and I’ve got eight rangers roaming the park who might need to contact me.”

  “We had time on the grass last night. I’m trying to show you I’m good with furniture, too.” Zane braced his hands at the outer corners and leaned across to whisper in her ear. “Desks are one of my specialties.”

  That flashed an image into Casey’s head. Herself, bent over the desk. Wearing only panties. Zane standing behind her, big hands palming her butt. Him wearing nothing at all. Her mind didn’t have to work very hard to fill in the places his swim trunks had hidden from view. Strong thighs bracketing her legs...

  After brushing a kiss onto her temple, Zane eased back. Handed her a glass and raised his. “To my intrepid and beautiful rescuer. Thank you.”

  Good thing Casey was still sitting down, or her panties would’ve dropped to the floor of their own accord at his toast. He was just so darn thoughtful. It melted her reserve—and her caution—faster than butter on a steaming stack of blueberry pancakes. She’d been ready to write off their kiss in the park as a one-time treat. But he’d bowled her over with a knock on the door and a bursting backpack. Casey wanted him. And she had a pretty good track record of nabbing the men she wanted.

  “Make sure I don’t have to thaw you out again.”

  “I guarantee that won’t be a problem. Now that I’ve tasted you, I don’t think my temperature will ever drop.”

  “That’ll be fun to explain come flu season,” she joked. Zane sawed away at the cheese with the dull spreading knife that probably came with the snazzy pack. At this rate he’d have a slice carved by dinner. “For Pete’s sake, drop that toy.” Impatient—and hungry—Casey reached into her desk and pulled out her Bowie knife.

  “That is one serious knife.”

  “I’m serious about my cheese.” Then she flashed a grin. “Okay, I’m not actually that much of a foodie bad-ass. I use this when I’m out in the park. It cuts cleanly through twigs. Good protection if I come across a copperhead hissing at tourists, too.”

  “You’d kill the snake? Aren’t you supposed to be a protector of all creatures great and small...and leaf-covered?” He goggled at the knife as she cut a neat stack of slices and added them to the tray. Then, with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a child who couldn’t help himself, he stroked his index finger down the handle and the spine of the blade.

  “First and foremost, I leave nature be.” Giving in to the pleading look in his eyes, Casey wiped the blade and then nodded her assent. Zane wrapped his hand around the hilt. Turned his wrist back and forth, learning its weight. Pretended to sheath it at his waist. Then he feinted a few sharp stabs toward the center of the room with it. Eight kinds of adorable. “Whenever possible, that is. But add in a scared, screaming family with a toddler about to run into a nest? Or a kid who thinks she can pet the poisonous creature because she plays with garter snakes back home? I protect humans above all else.”

  “You’re a forest bad-ass.” Zane’s voice dripped admiration.

  A tingle of satisfaction spread through her at his words. Even if they were an overstatement. His obvious respect felt great. “Not actually my job description. Not even in the fine print.” She held out her hand. “I’m not too hung up on fancy manners. But how about we put away the weapon before lunch?”

  “Right.” Zane deposited it back in her open drawer. Then he tucked a napkin into the crease of her uniform shorts, just like the fancy-shmancy maître’d at a Manhattan restaurant. “Back to my plan. I know you’re busy. I saw the lot full of cars. This lunch is just supposed to be a stress reliever. Like squeezing one of those rubber band balls, but infinitely more delicious.”

  “It’s a solid plan,” she murmured.

  He lifted a cheese-laden cracker to her lips. Brushed his thumb across the corner to catch a wayward crumb as she took the bite. The rough feel of his skin popped goose bumps out on her arms. Casey wasn’t sure what took priority at that moment: chewing, licking her lips in the hopes she’d swipe his finger, or staring deeper into those storm cloud eyes.

  “You haven’t even heard my whole plan yet.” Zane sounded disappointed at her easy acceptance. Guess she’d cut him off mid-brilliance.

  Casey built a multi-cheese cracker sandwich. Handed it to him in the hopes it would ease her transgression, then set about building one for herself. Because life was short—why should anyone ever limit themselves to a single cheese? “You’re a teacher. You should appreciate the necessity of giving people credit for showing their work, not just grading the completed project.”

  Half sitting, half standing on the corner of the desk, Zane said, “I’m an overachiever. I’ll grab up as many gold stars as you’re willing to give. But I only teach one class a week. And I’ve recently been told—by one of your close friends—that my subject matter isn’t that interesting to people outside of my classes. So let’s talk about what sort of fun we could have the rest of the time. I want you to show me around your corner of the world.”

  That sounded nice. And then a shard of cheese dropped from Casey’s cracker. Landed right in the middle of Saturday, June 27. She’d doodled a giant tooth in the box, written Pierce’s name in it, along with the time of their sort-of regularly scheduled dinner. A dinner they’d already postponed twice. Memorial Day weekend had been a deluge of overtime and park visitors and problems.

  Oops, actually, they’d pushed it back three times. Then there’d been the big Mayhew Manor National Hamburger Day party. It was Gray’s first big event working at the hotel, so she’d dropped everything to help him and Ella. It mostly consisted of sitting in an Adirondack chair on the lawn with a beer in her hand watching him run around like he had a rocket strapped to his ass, but he always knew where to find her for moral support.

  So first Casey had shoved their date back, and then Pierce had pushed it due to...well, she didn’t remember why. Probably hadn’t been paying attention when he’d explained. She zoned out whenever he talked about his dental practice, and sometimes she forgot to zone back in again. They were supposed to have gone out last night, but Casey had canceled once she realized she’d have to stay late at work.

  The truth was, Pierce was a convenient habit. Casey had no doubt she filled the same space in his life. Not a placeholder until something better came along. That sounded wrong. A handsome friend to fill the spaces between other, more exciting—God, that sounded horrible, too. Pierce was perfectly nice. A pleasant man to share wine and dinner with every month who shared her love of the outdoors. And if neither of them were involved with someone else at the time, they’d finish the evening in bed. If they were otherwise involved, then dinner stayed platonic. It worked for them. Pierce never poked at her boundaries. She certainly was never tempted to reveal her secrets to him.

  They were good, casual friends. No strings and no-expectations-attached friends. They both dated other people, no questions asked. But it felt wrong that she’d enjoyed those few minutes lakeside with Zane so much when she was supposed to have been with Pierce. Not that she’d had any clue she’d run into the sexy professor when she’d canceled her dinner. Still, their rescheduled dinner was twelve days away. Did the coincidental timing of las
t night’s meeting with Zane even matter, as long as she showed up that night?

  The bigger question was whether or not Zane was starting to worry she’d lost the ability to speak. She swallowed in one, fast gulp. “Um, sure. I can give you the quick and dirty tour. Although you’ve already seen the biggest attraction in town. Seneca Lake is it. And the castle you’re staying in, along with the sixty wineries that ring the lake.”

  He cupped her cheek with his big, warm palm. “I don’t want a quick and dirty version. I want to spend time with you, to learn about you. Discover what puts the sparkle in your eyes, and figure out how to make you smile. Would you go on a real date with me?”

  Casey wanted to say yes. Heck, she wanted to blow off the rest of the day with him. And night. Especially the night part. But if she hadn’t carved out the time to squeeze in Pierce—repeatedly—it felt questionable to jump right into something with Zane. “It’s the height of tourist season. I’m too busy for a relationship.” Her voice sounded weak and unconvincing even to her.

  His other hand came up to cup her other cheek. Tilted her head back just enough that they’d be in the perfect position to kiss if he bent down a few inches more. “You’re not too busy for a romance.”

  Holy crapballs, the man was good. Casey was about to say...nope, she had no idea what she was about to say. But the moment was broken when her two best friends magically appeared in the doorway. As in, how long had Ella and Piper been standing there quietly, eavesdropping on her not-quite-lunch date? Zane stood, a smile on his face.

  Casey did not put on a matching smile. And saw no need to beat around the bush. “I didn’t hear the door open. Which means you guys were being sneaky. Were you spying on us?”

  “Definitely.” Piper’s perfectly styled, long red hair with its stringently maintained every-five-weeks trim billowed as she nodded.

  “Why?”

  Ella stepped forward, green eyes fixated on Zane. “We saw you two through the window when we parked.” She thrust out her hand. “Ella Mayhew.”