Incompatibly Yours: Charity Anthology Supporting Fertility Research

Home > Contemporary > Incompatibly Yours: Charity Anthology Supporting Fertility Research > Page 13
Incompatibly Yours: Charity Anthology Supporting Fertility Research Page 13

by A. C. Bextor


  When I crumpled to the ground and flopped unceremoniously to my back, Sebastian peered down at me and said, "Maybe you should think about running with me tomorrow morning."

  "Think about it?" I blew out a breath. "Sure. Actually go with you? I don't think so."

  "Aw, come on." Sebastian sat down next to me. "It'll be fun."

  "Sorry, but I don't find torture to be fun."

  "Running isn't torture."

  I sat up and snorted. "That's debatable."

  Sebastian gave up on recruiting me to join him on his run, and we soon fell into an easy silence. After a bit, we began a conversation about the campers. Sitting side-by-side on the grassy hillside, he told me how he'd taken it upon himself to tame the unruly Seth Darling.

  "He's a good kid at heart," Sebastian insisted.

  Wary, I replied, "If you say so."

  "He is, Brooks. He just craves attention."

  "That's a nice way to put it," I said dryly.

  Sorry, but it was going to take a while for me to be converted over to a Seth fan, if that were even possible.

  I swiftly changed the subject. "So, what are you majoring in at UNC?"

  Sebastian scooted closer, our hips almost touching. "Are you ready for this one?"

  He smiled charmingly, and I nodded.

  "Archaeology."

  "Wow." I stretched my legs out in front of me, and when I looked up Sebastian was staring at my limbs, want and longing in his gaze. Or so I hoped.

  "Um," I went on. "That is an unusual major."

  He leaned in and said, "It's my passion, Brooks."

  Oh, my!

  "You should definitely follow your passion."

  My words were a reminder to myself, as well. And what my passion was at that moment was for Sebastian to kiss me.

  "Definitely," he whispered in agreement, his lips almost brushing the lobe of my ear.

  I was feeling warmer and warmer as he asked, "What are you majoring in?"

  "Art History?" I squeaked out.

  He pulled back. "Is that a question, or your major?"

  "No, no." I shook my head. "It's my major."

  "Hmm…."

  He leaned in close again, and this time I turned to him. We were in position, and there was nothing to stop our lips from meeting.

  I mentally fist-pumped the air. Yes! My first kiss, finally.

  But then—BAM!—all hell broke loose.

  A bucketload of acorns rained down on us, ruining the moment in spectacular fashion.

  Jumping apart, I shielded my head from the painful onslaught. "Ouch, ouch, ouch."

  When the acorn storm stopped, Sebastian muttered, "What the fuck?"

  Peering up into the thick branches, he slowly shook his head and rolled his eyes. Hmm, I had a feeling I knew where all those acorns had come from, and the accompanying giggle confirmed it.

  "Seth," I hissed under my breath.

  "Get down here, right now," an authoritative Sebastian barked to our mini assailant.

  "Told you he wasn't 'darling,'" I mumbled.

  Obeying Sebastian, the little brat shimmied down the trunk of the tree. But as soon as Seth's feet hit the ground, he was off.

  Sebastian jumped up and took off after him.

  And me, I was left sitting in a pile of acorns, another kiss interrupted.

  Chapter Five

  Lost In You

  The final night of camp there was a pizza party planned for the kids down at the pool. I knew it was also my last night to potentially kiss Sebastian.

  The days had flown by with a flurry of activities with the campers. There were more nature hikes, lots of swimming, art classes, and a raucous game of softball where I tagged out Seth Darling. Go, me.

  Through it all I'd hung out with Sebastian—a lot—but he still hadn't kissed me.

  Alas, perhaps he'd been frightened off by all the foiled attempts. I hoped that wasn't the case, but who knew? Still, hope was a persistent bitch, and she held me in her clutches.

  At the end of the day, and after the kids were sent to their cabins to get ready for the pool party, Lacey and I returned to the main cabin. I'd promised to let her pick out which swimsuit I should wear for the party. Oh, and Lacey also insisted I let her do my hair and makeup. She'd been very insistent on all those points.

  But, midway through the makeup part of things, I had to ask, "Why are you doing my makeup, anyway? It'll just get washed off in the pool."

  Lacey instructed me to close my eyes so she could get my eyeliner just right. "You'll be fine," she said. "Just don't go underwater. Besides, I'm using mostly all waterproof stuff."

  All righty.

  After my hair was curled and fluffed to perfection, and my makeup complete, Lacey inventoried the three swimsuits I'd brought to camp. She quickly vetoed the two modest one-piece suits, and threw me the black bikini I was rapidly regretting packing.

  "Lacey, this is too skimpy," I protested, though I knew my reservations would be ignored.

  She held up her hand to silence any further protests. "Trust me on this one, okay. Wear the black bikini."

  Guess who won that battle? A half an hour later, there I was, arriving at the pool in the black bikini.

  The kids had eaten their pizza earlier, and the party was in full swing. The campers were splashing around in the pool, having a great time. Mike and Ginny were on lifeguard duty, their usual gig, and it seemed Tim had been appointed deejay.

  Sebastian, Lacey, and I were assigned to keep an eye on the kids, to make sure everyone played nice.

  So, where's Sebastian? I mused as I scanned the area.

  Finally, I spotted him. Aah, there he is, looking as amazing as ever.

  Sebastian sat on the edge of the pool, his strong calves submerged in the water. He wore a pair of black swim trunks that hung low on his waist, giving me a tasty view of his defined abs and torso.

  While I was busy ogling Sebastian—my new favorite pastime—he shot me a curious glance. Though when he took in my bikini, it seemed it was my turn to be ogled by him.

  His eyes traveled down my body, unapologetically, and seemingly in appreciation, leaving me overcome with happiness.

  "Thank you, Lacey," I whispered.

  I was glad she had insisted on the bikini… and the hair… and the makeup. It had turned out to be a trifecta win for me, based on Sebastian's reaction.

  "I'm going to see what Tim is up to in the DJ booth," Lacey said. She nudged me toward the pool. "You should go talk to Sebastian."

  That was fine with me, especially since Sebastian was smiling at me as if I were the prettiest girl on the planet. It was with newfound confidence that I walked over to the pool and sat down on the edge, right next to Sebastian.

  As I lowered my legs into the warm water, he said, "You look very pretty, Brooks."

  "Thanks."

  I kicked my legs lightly in the water. An effort designed to distract myself from staring at Sebastian's chiseled chest.

  Flames of several flickering Tiki torches illuminated the pool, the resulting amber glow making Sebastian appear more breathtaking than ever. Despite having spent a ton of time with him over the past several days, I now found myself tongue-tied.

  Within minutes, though, I began to relax, and Sebastian and I engaged in small talk.

  "So," I said at one point, "I can't believe this is our last night."

  "Yeah." He sighed. "It's been fun."

  "More than I ever expected," I agreed.

  Under the water, he nudged my foot. "You had fun even with Seth Darling on the loose?"

  I laughed. "Even with."

  "You look sad," Sebastian noted when I blew out a resigned breath.

  "I'm not. I'm just going to miss hanging out with you."

  He smiled over at me. "It's not over, Brooks. Remember…." He raised a brow. "We agreed to hang out at school."

  "That's right."

  "You're not backing out now, are you?"

  I couldn't believe he'd even think s
uch a thing, and I was quick to say, "No way."

  "That's good," he softly replied.

  Tim's selection of upbeat summer tunes then took a turn to slower and softer music. The kids slowly began to head back to the cabins, exhausted from the busy day. Lacey was nowhere to be found. Still helping Tim choose the music selections, I assumed.

  Finally, when Mike and Ginny climbed down from their lifeguard chairs, it was clear the party had ended.

  Not for me and Sebastian, though.

  "You want to stay for a while?" he asked.

  "Absolutely."

  Mike walked by just then. "Good night, guys. See you tomorrow," he said.

  "Yeah, man." Sebastian fist-bumped him. "Have a good one."

  Ginny leaned down and gave me an awkward one-armed hug. "Nite, Brooks."

  "Good night, Ginny. Bye, Mike."

  Then they were gone, leaving just Sebastian and me at the pool.

  While Sebastian and I played footsie in the water, Dave Matthews's song "Crash into Me" began to play.

  "I love this song," I blurted out.

  "Me, too." Sebastian stood and reached for my hand. "Will you dance with me, Brooks." He paused. "Please?"

  I took his hand, and he pulled me up to him.

  We were skin to skin in the many areas our swimwear didn't cover. And, damn, people, that equated to a lot of bare skin contact. Oh, my.

  I snaked my arms around Sebastian's neck, just as his hands came to rest at the small of my back. We moved to the music for what felt like an eternity, and then, slowly, tentatively, his hands traveled up my back, over the string tie of my bikini top, and into my hair.

  I looked up at him through my lashes to find his piercing blue gaze peering back at me.

  "Brooks," he whispered.

  He then began to mouth the words to the Dave Matthews song, words of how he, Sebastian, was lost in me.

  I sighed, and his lips moved closer and closer to mine.

  It was perfect. Time stood still. This was my moment, the moment I'd been waiting for, seemingly forever.

  When Sebastian's lips touched mine, I swear I heard angels singing. It was that divine.

  I moved my lips with his in the most perfect first kiss ever, and when he nudged my mouth open, and our tongues touched, I was the one who became lost, lost in Sebastian.

  That perfect first kiss continued throughout the entire song, and well into the next one, which I wouldn't have been able to tell you the title of even if I tried. I was too caught up in kissing Sebastian.

  Not that the song title mattered. All that mattered was we were finally kissing.

  I had received my first kiss at last. And you know what? All those interruptions were worth it, because that kiss was the only one that mattered.

  The End

  About S.R. Grey

  S.R. Grey is an Amazon Top 100 and Barnes & Noble #1 Best-selling author. She is the author of the popular Judge Me Not series, the new Promises series, the Inevitability duology, A Harbour Falls Mystery trilogy, and the Laid Bare series of novellas. Ms. Grey’s works have appeared on multiple bestseller lists, including Top 100 several times, as well as Barnes & Noble #1 in Best-selling Nook books.

  Ms. Grey resides in Pennsylvania. When not writing, Ms. Grey can be found reading, traveling, running, or cheering for her hometown sports teams.

  Website: http://srgrey.com/

  Author Newsletter (subscriber-only special features): http://mad.ly/signups/106801/join

  Also by S.R. Grey

  Promises

  #1 Tomorrow's Lies

  Inevitability Duology

  #1 Inevitable Detour

  #2 Inevitable Circumstances

  Judge Me Not

  #1 The After of Us

  #2 I Stand Before You

  #3 Never Doubt Me

  #4 Just Let Me Love You

  A Harbour Falls Mystery

  #1 Harbour Falls

  #2 Willow Point

  #Wickingham Way

  Laid Bare

  #1 Exposed

  #2 Unveiled

  #3 Spellbound

  #4 Sacrifice

  Her Kind Of Crazy by Nina Levine

  Australian English

  Chapter One

  JULIETTE

  I need a drink.

  Wine.

  No, something stronger.

  Bourbon.

  Jesus, any kind of alcohol will do.

  Anything to get me under control because at the moment, I'm feeling all kinds of stressed. It's silly really. There's no reason for me to be stressed. Except my brain is telling me if I screw this job up today, it will mean months of hard work down the drain.

  As the taxi I'm in pulls into the Sydney Hilton driveway, I do my best to force my nerves away.

  "That'll be thirty-two dollars, miss."

  The taxi driver's voice pulls me from my thoughts and I hurriedly search for the cash in my purse before handing it to him.

  Gathering my bags, I try to ignore the beating of my heart in my chest. I'm flustered, and today is most definitely not a day for me to be anything but calm. Anastasia Brady does not cope well with distracted people and I need her to stay focused and happy today.

  You can do this.

  "Miss, please hurry because I have another job to get to." As the taxi driver stares at me in the rear-view mirror, it's clear he's annoyed.

  "Sorry, I'm going now." I clutch my bags and open the door. Stepping out into the warm Sydney afternoon in a rush so as not to hold the taxi up any longer, I do the one thing I hate to do.

  I stumble.

  My ankle gives way, causing my foot to twist and me to lose balance. It happens every now and then so I should be used to it, but I'm not. Embarrassment still floods me every time.

  I instinctively reach out to grab something to hold on to in an effort to halt my fall. Silly really, because I'm stepping out of the taxi right in front of the hotel lobby doors and there is nothing to grab hold of.

  Well, generally there's not.

  Today, however, there is.

  "I've got you," a man says as his hands slide under my arms and he stops my collapse.

  This all happens in a blur, but at the sound of his deep voice, my head snaps up so I can look at him.

  Oh. My.

  Mesmerising blue eyes capture mine for a moment before I drop my gaze to appreciate his sexy, bearded smile. In my experience, those kinds of lips promise many things that a girl like me doesn't have the time for. I'm all for fun sexy times, but it's the heartbreak a man like him promises that I don't have the time for.

  Lips don't lie.

  Neither do tattoos, and as my attention diverts from his lips to his neck and down to his arms, I see tattoo after tattoo.

  Uh-uh.

  Tattoos and I do not go together.

  I gather myself and look back up into his eyes. Steadying myself, I move out of his hold and say, "Thank you."

  He's stopped smiling, but his lips twitch and his eyes twinkle. "You're welcome."

  I narrow my gaze on him. Why is he looking at me like that? Like I amuse him. "Are you laughing at me?"

  He continues to watch me with that same lip-twitching gaze. "Do I look like I'm laughing?"

  Gripping my bags tighter, I square my shoulders. "No, but there's something going on in your mind and I'm sure it's some kind of laughter at my expense."

  He runs his fingers through his brown hair. He's got one of those haircuts where it's really short on the sides and the rest is styled into that sexy, tousled look—the kind of look that makes my belly flutter. His voice distracts me from thinking about his hair when he replies, "Let's just say I'm amused when a woman, who is clearly attracted to me, flinches at my tattoos. They're just ink on skin; they don't tell you about the kind of man I am underneath all that art."

  "I'm not attracted to you," I snap.

  I'm not.

  Really.

  His brows rise. "No? Could've fooled me."

  Heat covers
my cheeks and tingles sweep up the back of my neck. Taking a step to the side so I can go around him, I reply, "Consider yourself fooled. Thank you again for helping me, but I really do have to go so that I'm not late for an appointment."

  His lips finally curl into a full smile again. "You really should consider wearing flat shoes. Those heels are deadly."

  He's right; at almost five inches, my red Jimmy Choos are definitely a hazard to my health. But they are a necessary hazard. "I have to go."

  He jerks his chin as if to say, "go" but he doesn't shift his attention from me. In fact, he seems quite settled, like he's going to watch and make sure I don't trip again.

  Without another word, I turn and walk away, but I am sure his eyes are on me and it unsettles me.

  Oh, God, do not trip again, Juliette.

  I do my best to put him out of my mind, and instead focus on making it into the hotel and to the elevators without stumbling.

  Five minutes later, I've called Anastasia and she's sent someone downstairs to collect me, and while I wait, I can't help but think about him again.

  I was most definitely attracted to him. He was right about that. Not that I would ever admit it to him if we met again. But I've never found tattoos, beards, and that bad-boy attitude appealing. I prefer my men in suits, with no ink and even less attitude. Give me a man who is focused, serious, and knows where he'll be in ten years, and I'm sold. I've had enough upheaval and uncertainty in my twenty-four years to last me a lifetime.

  "Miss Taylor?"

  I turn and find a tall man dressed in a suit staring at me. Smiling, I nod. "Yes."

  "Please come with me. Miss Brady is ready for you."

  I take a deep breath.

  Finally. My future is finally starting to look good.

  ★★★

  "Juliette!" Anastasia Brady throws her arms around me and practically squeals my name. Even after knowing her for three months and being in her presence more than a dozen times, I'm still not used to her over-the-top way of doing things.

 

‹ Prev