“I, uh, Macon and he…spent the night here,” Adia said. “I didn’t touch her,” he quickly added.
“Yeah,” Caleb said. “I made damned sure of that.” He turned his gaze to Quenby, and his eyes softened. He grinned at her. “Hey Quenby. How you feeling?”
“Fine,” she managed. Last night came back to her in mortifying flashes. The Freedom Party had broken up early. Most people had mumbled excuses for going home in little more than an hour. After that, with plenty of pink champagne in her system, she’d insisted that they go out to a club. Caleb had been in the group. All she remembered was grinding against him and murmuring embarrassing, sex-related things in his ear all night.
“Good,” Caleb said.
“Where’s Macon?” Quenby asked, feeling the heat rise to her face. She genuinely wanted to know, but she also wanted to change the subject.
“She drove Talitha to the train station this morning, and I guess she hasn’t gotten back yet,” Adia said.
“Oh yeah. She left for D.C. this morning.” Quenby toyed with the washcloth Adia had given her earlier. “About last night...”
“What about it?” Caleb winked at her.
Quenby stared at him, open-mouthed, but unable to think of a word to say. Typical of the hot ones. They made way better friends than they did lovers. Somehow, though, she always managed to forget that when one of them asked her out.
“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Nice seeing you again.” Was it her imagination, or did he suddenly seem embarrassed?
“Yeah,” Quenby said as he walked into the guest bedroom. She narrowed her eyes at the closed door. What had that wink been about?
“I didn’t do anything too…horrible with him last night, did I?” Quenby muttered.
“Like I would’ve let you,” Adia said. Like Adia “let” her do anything. She made plenty of bad choices despite his warnings and good intentions, and he did the same despite hers.
Quenby collapsed against the back of the couch with a sigh.
#
After Caleb dressed, he joined them in the living room.
Just when she’d been thinking of hot guys and leaving them be, there was enemy-to-her-defenses-number-one. Quenby hoped her guilty conscience wasn’t written all over her face. Ever since he’d come out of the bathroom, she’d been picturing the two of them showering together. Her soapy hands running across his chest and down, down…Him lifting her onto his hips. Her wet legs wrapped around his slick body. She couldn’t help herself.
“As soon as Macon gets back, we’re going to brunch,” Quenby found herself saying. “You want to go?”
Caleb’s face broke into a grin. “Sure.”
Adia threw her a look.
She smiled, shrugged, and said, “Let’s call Macon and see where she is.”
“Quenby,” Adia said.
“What?” she asked innocently. “We all have to eat.” Among other things.
Chapter 5
When Macon returned to Adia’s place, they went to Restaurante Cuyo. It was an Argentinian place with a great brunch on weekends. Cuyo had fantastic mimosas, but Quenby couldn’t think about champagne at the moment.
The group sat out on the patio at a long wooden picnic table covered by a light blue and white tablecloth. Quenby’s friend, Ron, sat next to her. When he went to the restroom, Caleb walked around the table and slid into that space. She picked at the remains of her steak and eggs.
Quenby had invited him, and she wanted him there, but she was suddenly nervous at the thought of having a one-on-one conversation with him again. She didn’t know how to start a conversation with last night hanging between them. From what she remembered, they hadn’t had much to say to each other at the club, either. It’d been too loud, and they were—otherwise preoccupied. Or at least she’d been.
He gave her a smile that just melted her. “Hi.”
Uh-oh. Here it went. That heart dropping, sweaty, shaky kind of reaction. She swallowed hard. “Hi.”
“Sorry if I pissed you off this morning with something I said. Sometimes I think I’m funny, and I’m really not.” Everything he said was charming in that Georgian accent with that deep voice. He could have been reading the menu to her, and she would have been a puddle at his feet.
She laughed, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. “No problem.” The previous night kept coming back to her in flashes. “Did you carry me last night?”
He nodded. “From the club to your car to your condo all the way to your bed.”
“No,” she moaned, clapping a hand to her forehead. “I really am sorry about last night.”
“Why? You didn’t do anything you need to be sorry for.” He leaned toward the picnic table a little.
“I acted like a drunken sorority girl on Girls Gone Wild.”
“What’s wrong with going wild every once in a while?”
She laughed.
“You have a really pretty laugh.” His hazel eyes were intent on her.
Quenby’s heart jumped so hard, she expected it to leap right out of her chest. “Thanks.” Her face warmed, and she looked down at her hands. Her chipped thumbnail was suddenly very interesting.
“I meant what I said yesterday. That man was crazy to do whatever made you leave him at that altar. But he sure did some lucky man somewhere in your future a huge favor.”
She could barely swallow. She shifted down the bench as he moved his hand toward her shoulder.
“Quenby,” Caleb said. Her name on his lips sent chills down her spine. She looked up and forced herself to focus. That deep Southern accent was making it difficult.
“I could be a horrible person. You barely know anything about me. This is only the third conversation we’ve had.” She looked at him as if he were speaking another language.
Caleb smiled. “Fourth. And I highly doubt you’re a horrible person. But you’re right. And I was hoping we could get to know each other better. I know we don’t have very much time left, but I’d like to spend every minute of it learning about you.”
Quenby returned the smile. “Would you?”
“Yeah.”
“What would be the point? Your plane leaves in a few hours.”
He moved closer and his voice became softer. “Why does everything have to have a point?” His lips were almost at her ear when he said, “Quenby. I like it. How’d you come across that name anyway?”
Good. She could tell the story of her name. Something to distract her from all the very dangerous feelings flooding her at that moment. Talking in a voice that was a little too loud and a little too high, she said, “It’s always a good ice breaker, you know. My name. Anyway, when my mom was pregnant with me, she couldn’t get enough of Beverly Cleary’s Ramona Quimby novels. This grown woman, right? I guess she got book cravings in addition to food cravings. Anyway, she was completely in love with them and she really liked Ramona’s last name. So she decided to give it to me with a slight variation. And so…I’m Quenby.”
“Sounds like an interesting lady.” Caleb said. Mercifully, he pulled back a little, and she felt a little less like she was going to die if she didn’t jump into his lap. “I’d like to meet her.”
Quenby didn’t quite know what to make of that statement. Remember, you’ll never see him again after today, she told herself.
Caleb glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry, man, I guess I took your seat.”
Startled, she looked up. She hadn’t realized Ron had returned to the table. She’d also tuned out everyone at the table; for a moment, she’d forgotten that she and Caleb weren’t the only ones there.
“No problem. I’ll just grab a seat over there,” Ron said.
“No.” Quenby blurted it out before she could even think about it, earning the strange looks they both gave her. “I mean…your steak—you’re not finished.” She didn’t know if she should be left alone next to this too-attractive, smooth talking, loafers with no socks wearing man.
He chuckled. “You’re right. Can you pass me that plate, man?”
“Here, I’ll just switch ‘em across the table,” Caleb said. “Y’all excuse my momentary lapse in manners, reaching across the table like this. Don’t tell my mama, she’d kill me.” Caleb smiled at Quenby before switching the plates.
“Thanks.” Ron headed for the other side of the table.
“No problem.” Caleb turned back to Quenby. “In a hurry to get rid of me?”
“I just—um.” Quenby tried to think of something to say. “I don’t want to be in a relationship. Or date. Or any of that right now.”
“Hey. It’s cool. I understand. After all, I leave for Georgia in a few hours . Remember?” he said. “You just said it yourself. I just want to be a friend. A person could always use another friend, right? That’s the way I feel about it anyway.”
“Yeah.” She knew she had no business thinking about that man, but as much as she knew it, she couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be to have a friendship and so much more with Caleb.
He ran a hand through his golden hair, and she wanted her fingers running through it instead of his. She’d certainly done enough of that last night. She tried to remember if she’d asked him to sleep with her. She couldn’t remember if she had or not. Suddenly, it seemed important for her to know. Even though she dreaded getting it, she needed some idea of what kind of impression she’d given Caleb last night. “I’m surprised I didn’t find you in bed next to me when I woke up this morning.” She didn’t add that she wouldn’t have minded that.
“Really?” He tapped his long, thick fingers against the top of the table as he spoke, matching the beat to the music that spilled out of the outdoor speakers set up nearby.
“I mean, it’s not like you didn’t have an invitation. I don’t exactly remember making one, but I’m sure I did at some point.”
“If you were sober, it would’ve happened in a heartbeat.” He looked her dead in the eye, and her stomach dropped. “Don’t think for a minute I didn’t want to. But I don’t do things like that with women who are pass-out drunk. I want you to want me, and know you want me, and be aware of every second we share. When that sort of thing happens.” He reached up to caress one of her gold teardrop earrings before moving his thumb to the sensitive ridge of skin at the top of her ear. She shivered. The rest of the world dropped away. Every time he touched her, she was in greater danger of jumping into his lap.
She pushed aside thoughts of how she wanted to spend the few, precious hours between then and when Caleb had to go to the airport. No way could she let any of that happen. Those fantasies were better left in her head no matter how hard she was rebounding. And this was just rebound talk. Right?
She needed something safe to talk about. What was safe?
Luckily, Caleb came up with something. “So Adia told me this morning that you work at a community bank near downtown. You’re a branch manager?”
“Yeah.” Quenby wanted so badly to reach for him, but she knew that wouldn’t be right. “You’re, uh, you’re in school down in Georgia, right? Where?”
“I was at UGA for undergrad, and I’m at Emory now for med school.”
“How do you like it?”
A slow smile crossed his face. “It’s okay. Something to do anyway.” He reached out toward her. It seemed for a second like he was going to touch her again, but then he grabbed his fork and started tapping it against his plate.
“So what made you want to be a doctor?”
“I want to help people. I can’t remember ever wanting to be anything else to tell you the truth. It makes me feel really good when I can help other people feel better.”
A thrill went through Quenby as she remembered kissing him by the pond. He had certainly made her feel better.
“What I really want to do after school is join Doctors Without Borders.”
Quenby nodded and said, “It’s good to know what you want and go for it.
Caleb’s eyes burned into hers. “Yeah. It is.”
Quenby looked away, every inch of her on fire.
“That’s the deal I made with Dad,” he said. “He’s footing the bill for med school. I’m doing Doctors Without Borders for a few years after my residency, and then I’ll join his practice group.”
“Your dad’s a doctor, too? What kind?”
“Surgeon.”
“Wow.”
He grimaced, then quickly changed his expression to a smile. “He’s one of the best. Makes sure everyone knows it, too.” After a brief silence, he said, “So, how you feeling after your night last night?”
She laughed dryly. “Marvelous.” Feeling like they’d stumbled into territory they needed to escape, she decided to turn the conversation elsewhere yet again.
Sports. She always defaulted to sports. Just the way her brain worked, she guessed. Asking him what he thought of the Redskins’s new quarterback, she felt like she was out of danger. At least for the moment.
Chapter 6
After brunch, the three of them went back to Quenby’s building. She’d volunteered to take them to the airport when it was time for their flight, so they decided to hang out there for a while. Macon didn’t follow Quenby and Caleb upstairs to Quenby’s condo right away; she stayed in the car a few minutes to have yet another conversation—read argument—with Adia on her phone. Whenever Macon and Adia tried to talk out their issues, things inevitably ended in a fight. Quenby had learned to leave Macon alone when it came to not getting past her breakup with Adia. It was either that or forget about her friendship with Macon.
Quenby unlocked the front door, and Caleb held it open for her. His arm brushed hers as he did. She tripped over her own feet stepping over the threshold. Caleb put his hand on the small of her back to steady her. She looked up at him, her heart pounding and her skin on fire from his touch even though the fabric of her blouse separated his hand from her flesh. Ever since brunch, all she could think about was tasting him again.
He bit his lower lip in an obvious attempt to suppress a grin. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she murmured, stumbling away from his touch. She still couldn’t make up her mind about whether she wanted this rebound fling or not. So much could go wrong. What if she realized she wanted more than a few hours with him while he was sitting on a plane that was taking him back to Georgia? She already felt a pull to him. She should quit now while she could.
“Let’s go inside.” His voice was husky and low, and it did nothing to stop the dirty little thoughts running through her mind.
“Okay.”
Once they were inside, he shut the door behind them. He pulled a few strands of her hair between his fingers and played with them.
“I had a great time talking with you at brunch,” Caleb said, moving his other hand to the back of her neck. She shivered when he trailed his fingers over the fine hairs there.
“Caleb, this isn’t the right time for—” She broke off when his hazel eyes bore into hers.
“Isn’t the right time for what?” His voice was barely above a whisper. His forehead grazed hers.
“I just can’t.”
His hand moved deeper into her hair, the other one still against the back of her neck. Leaving his eyes locked on hers, he moved his two hands to meet in the back of her head, buried them deep in her hair. He pressed his lips to her temple. She closed her eyes, breathing in sandalwood.
He backed her up against the wall next to the door. “I’ll stop if you really want me to, but I want you to know that it hurts to do it.” He pressed his cheek to hers.
Screw it. This was going to happen. She’d worry about the consequences later. She had the rest of her life to think about those consequences. She wouldn’t get another chance to wrap herself around Caleb Fletcher-Smith. She didn’t want to regret missing the one chance she had.
She pressed her lips to his collarbone, tasting the skin there. The next thing she knew, they were on his neck. Then, his bottom lip. He parted hi
s lips, sighing against hers. He pressed her to the wall. She locked her arms around him. His hands moved across her back. Their mouths were locked together. She wanted to do much more than kiss him, and she used her mouth to try and show him this. It seemed he was doing the same with his. She lifted one leg onto his hip. He pulled the other up, and held her in place by gripping her thighs without ever separating his lips from hers.
Clinging to him, feeling his body against hers, she could tell he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathless.
“I should stop now. Before…” he said.
She ground her hips against his. “Really?”
He looked at the door. “What if Macon?...”
She hopped down and grabbed his hand. “Come here.” She led him to her room. She didn’t want to overthink things. She didn’t want to think at all. All she wanted was Caleb.
Soon, they were on her bed, writhing, hips grinding against each other. She kissed him hungrily, greedily, feeling starved after the few cold and distant months at the end with Derek. He’d been right that the sex was bad for the last few months, but wrong about it being her fault.
Not that she wanted to think about him when she was with a man like Caleb. She pulled him closer, rubbing against the ridge of his hard-on. She wrapped her legs around him as he teased her neck with his teeth and tongue. He moved lower until he was biting at her nipples through her shirt. She moaned as he teased them to hardened points beneath her bra.
Her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps as his hands explored her body. He touched every place that needed to be touched even though they were fully clothed. She screamed out with pleasure as he took her over the edge.
Her breathing started to return to normal, and he rolled off her and stroked her hair away from her face.
“Whoa,” she said.
He moved his hand along the inside of her thigh, bringing it to a stop at the crotch of her jeans. She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and pushed both jeans and panties off her hips. He pulled them down to her knees and brushed his fingers against the wet, curly hair they’d exposed. He groaned and ripped her jeans and panties down to her ankles, pushing them off the rest of the way with his feet.
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