Falling for Love

by Vicki Green

  Amanda sold out of her books within an hour after the lunch break. I stood and took a million pictures with people and signed posters of me. That was a strange feeling. I helped her pack up what little she had left on her table and then went up to my room to take a shower. The whole day was very interesting and rather fun but the whole time I wondered what Irish was doing. She never did tell me what she was doing at the hotel. The shower felt great. We’re supposed to meet for a dinner thing in a couple of hours in the same ballroom then there will be a DJ with dancing afterwards. Once I’m dressed in jeans, a tight fitting t-shirt, and my favorite boots, I head to the ballroom once again. Dinner was amazing but so many of the readers that are here wanted pictures again, a lot of arm grabbing and a few pinched my butt. It all started becoming overwhelming.

  I walk out into the hallway outside the ballroom door, trying to get some air and a little alone time. Most of the readers have been really nice but a few are a little crazy. There’s a few other models here too and we kept giving each other the silent nods and looks, all of us feeling uncomfortable by now.

  “If you want to go, I wouldn’t blame you, Caylan.” Amanda smiles leaning up to my ear. “I’ll understand. Really.” I nod and bend down, placing a kiss on her cheek. I hadn’t realized she’d come out here but God, am I thankful.

  “Thanks, Amanda, and thank you for everything. Looks like it was successful for you. I’m glad.” I put my arm around her as she wraps hers around me, giving her a big hug.

  “I’m so glad you could come. There might be another one soon, if you’re up for it.” She laughs and I can’t help but join in.

  “Anytime you need me.”

  She kisses my cheek again and then I watch her walk back inside.

  When I turn around I see Irish standing by the elevator. She sways a little, her eyes wide, and the look on her face is of betrayal. Disgust. “Irish?” She turns, slamming into the door as it begins to close, causing them to open again. She grasps her upper arm as she teeters into the elevator. “Irish! Wait!” I start jogging over to her but the doors are already beginning to close. Her faces changes into anger.

  “Just leave me alone, Caylan,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes.

  “No!” My jog speeds up into a run. “Irish!”

  By the time I get there, the doors close.

  Irish

  That motherfucker! When I found out there was a book signing upstairs from where the tech convention was, I thought: Cool, I love to read. So, after we were done, I went up there to check it out. I actually bought a few books, had them autographed, only making it half way through the room, and was really excited until I walked out and saw Caylan with some woman’s lips stuck to his face. I was so glad the elevator doors opened up when I got there and then even more fortunate they closed before he could get in with me. I don’t want to see him. Hear him. Or smell him. How could he be like that last night and then do that? Slime ball! Asshat! Womanizer! Why? Why am I attracted to them? Why can’t I like a normal man, one that is faithful to one woman? One that adores her. Never strays. Doesn’t have a fucking harem?

  I’m fuming as I watch the numbers lower above the door. Bar. I need the bar. STAT! The numbers slowly trickle down and my blood pressure seems to increase at every floor. By the time I reach the lobby, I’m a wreck. The doors open and I’m about to step out and make a mad dash for the bar when I stop cold at the sight of Caylan standing before me. I lean forward and hit a button, having no idea which one, but before the doors have a chance to close, he walks in. I step backward until I hit the mirrored wall behind me. “Go away,” I growl. The ground shakes from the elevator starting to move and my body shakes from anger. As he steps closer, it begins to shake for another reason. His eyes are predatory. Filled with desire, longing and a bit of sadness mixed in. His hands raise up in front of him as I start to inch to the side, my back sliding against the wall. He stops, staring into my eyes.

  “Let me explain.”

  I shake my head, my eyes moving from his to the numbers above him then back to him again.

  “Irish. If you’ll just give me five minutes to explain.” My brow raises as my eyes squint. “Two. Two minutes.”

  We both startle as the elevator stops. I quickly take a peek over his shoulder as the doors begin to open. I’ve always been a fast runner, playing sports with Brock, Kane, and all the guys in the neighborhood growing up. He watches me look behind him and starts to turn his head when I make a mad dash around his other side.

  “Irish! God dammit! Wait!”

  We’d only gone up two floors so I run down the hallway, hearing his running footsteps behind me, muffled by the carpet. I tear around the corner, into the stairwell – used only for emergencies. I figure this is a pretty damn good emergency so I start running down the stairs. I can tell he’s catching up to me so I start taking two at a time, almost flying around the corners to continue down the next flight.

  “Irish, stop! You’re gonna….”

  I start around the next corner when I hear him yell, sounding way too close, so like the idiot I am, I turn to look up and miss a step. You know that moment when everything seems to slow down? Like you’re watching in slow motion the accident that’s about to happen. Yeah, that’s me right now. THIS is why I don’t wear high heeled shoes. I’ve never been very good at walking in them. But running? Yeah, obviously that doesn’t work at all.

  “IRISH!”

  Down I go. Down a full flight of stairs, hitting my head, my arm, my knee, twisting my foot, until I crash on the landing with an “Oomph”. Yes, real lady like – all sprawled out, my leg bent up beside me. My eye twitching from hitting my head and my upper arm pushing thumping beats of pain all the way down to my hand. Lovely.

  “Oh, my God. Irish. Are you okay?”

  I look up at him hovering over me and wonder – what the hell kind of question is that? Do I look okay? Did you not just see me falling down a flight of stairs?

  “Maybe you shouldn’t move. Should I call 911? Tell me what to do.”

  I would normally think it’s really sweet how concerned he seems to be. But then I remember that woman’s lips suctioned to his cheek and my anger starts to boil again. I start to move when he reaches down to help me. “Don’t…. touch me,” I snarl. I start to look like a fish out of water when pain shoots everywhere as I try to get up.

  He bends down and grabs me under my arms and doesn’t even look like he breaks a sweat picking me up. “Stubborn. Bull headed. Obstinate woman!” I grab the side of my face with my hand as he lifts me into his arms. “If you would have just waited and let me explain.” My head lolls against his huge shoulder, my eyes closing when the room starts spinning. Or maybe I’m spinning as he climbs the stairs with me in his arms. Damn. He’s not even breathing heavy. I can feel every ridge, every indentation of every muscle as he moves. Why in the hell am I having these thoughts right now? Maybe I have a concussion. “Stubborn woman.” He keeps mumbling as he climbs the stairs. Finally, I feel like we’re more on solid ground. The sounds of doors sliding open and dings are all around me. Are my ears ringing now too?

  I open one eye a slit and see we’re in the elevator. I peek up at him and my heart flutters. He’s staring at me. Concern in those hazel eyes and marred on his gorgeous face.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  His hand moves up from my upper back and lays against my head, pressing it against his chest. I sigh, loudly, and close my eye. “Shhhh. Let me help you, for once.” I nod against his chest, feeling warm in his strong arms. What was I mad about again? Suddenly, I’m tired. So tired. I feel him jostle me around a bit and then next thing I know, I feel a soft mattress below me. God. That feels nice. I snuggle until I’m comfortable and then drift off.

  Warmth.

  Soft.

  Cold!

  I startle and try to sit up but a strong hand against my shoulder stops me. “Lay still, Irish.”

  I shake my head and open my eyes, the lamp light shinin
g beside me makes me close them again. “What?” Cold hits my knee and my eyes spring open.

  “Hold still. Your knee is really starting to swell.”

  I lay back down and turn my head, looking at the alarm clock. One a.m. Hasn’t he slept at all? I look back at the concentrated look on his face. So sweet. So caring. A vision hits me right in my head of a woman. Her lips sucking the skin off his face. I shoot up into a sitting position and push his hand away from my knee. He looks up in shock, confusion. “I need to go.” I start to pull my legs over to the side of the bed when pain hits me hard. “Ow.” I bite my lip to keep from crying. My head tilts back as I grab around the back of my leg. His strong arms are around me in an instant, moving me back where I was and placing the ice pack back on my knee.

  I look up as he brings his other hand up to the side of my face, his thumb rubbing across my skin. Damn, that feels good. “I wish you’d slow down and take a breath once in a while. Sometimes things aren’t what they appear.” His voice is low, soft, lulling. I look deep into his eyes and then they wander down to where his hand is on my knee. Bare legs. My eyes drift up my body. His t-shirt? What. In. The. Hell? I bolt up again, his hand falling from my face.

  “Where the hell are my clothes? Did you undress me?” My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it beating frantically against my chest. I feel lightheaded and suddenly sick.

  “I couldn’t very well get to your injuries with your pants and top on,” he says with a smirk. I try to move my legs but he puts his hands on my shoulders, stopping me. “Let me go, Caylan. I can’t….” We stare into each other’s eyes, his face but a breath away from me.

  “Irish. She’s an author and I’m on the cover of her book.” My eyes widen. “She was thanking me for being there today. She’s a friend. Nothing more.” My heart starts beating harder but for a totally different reason now. He leans in closer still. “I meant what I said last night. I want you but not for a one night stand. I want to get to know you and for you to get to know me. I have no feelings for anyone else, Irish.”

  Suddenly it all makes sense. Well, at least I think it does. I lean up and crush my lips against his, my hands moving up his broad chest and around his neck. My fingers find their way into his soft hair. Emotions swarm me. Feelings I never thought I’d feel. But wait! I hate him. Don’t I? I’m so confused. He presses his mouth harder against mine. Instead of fighting him, if only for this moment, I let my feelings win and press back just as hard. My lips are gonna be bruised, like the rest of my body, but right now, I don’t care. His hand cups the side of my face, his fingers start moving into my hair, and I wince.

  He moves back, the look of concern covering his face. “I’m sorry. You’re hurt and here I am mauling you.” A laugh breaks free from my mouth and a smile graces his lips. God, he’s so freaking gorgeous.

  “I think I was mauling and you were the maulee.” He laughs and moves back more. Disappointment shadows over me. He leans back on his legs and picks up the ice pack. He starts to turn but looks at me, stops, and places his hand under my hair and cups the back of my neck. When he leans down and kisses my mouth softly, tenderly, it catches me off guard.

  “Don’t move. I’m gonna get some more ice. Lay down.” He winks and starts to climb off the bed.

  “So bossy,” I murmur but smile as he stops and looks at me. He gives me another wink with that cocky grin of his and walks off. I lay back with a huge smile on my face. Is this what it’s like to like someone who actually likes you back? It’s amazing and scary, all at the same time. Why didn’t I try this sooner? As I look over at him at the small breakfast bar, placing ice in the small towel, I feel a small chip of the barrier around my heart fall away. Then again, what if he hurts me, crushes my heart? But what if he doesn’t. Ugh! I hate this. How will I know for sure if I don’t try? Suddenly, I’m exhausted.

  Chapter Five

  Caylan

  When I saw her flying down those stairs, my heart accelerated. I knew that was an accident waiting to happen. It took me forever and a ton of running down the stairs myself to catch her in the elevator. What broke my heart even more is that she was running from me. The look of hurt on her face when she saw Amanda innocently kissing my cheek, made me want to put my arms around her. Tell her how much I am falling for her and tell her Amanda and every other woman out there means nothing to me. For a strong woman she sure is skittish about men. Makes me wonder what in the hell happened to her for her to be this way. Or is it just me? Do I really scare her that badly or is she toying with me? I do love a good chase. Never really had one with a beautiful woman before. I like it. I like her. Damn. Never had these kind of feelings before. The kind that makes you want to be with one woman and one woman only. Maybe I’m finally settling down or maybe I finally found the one person I want to spend my life with, take home to meet my family. Mom would die. Jen my sister will razz me until the day I marry. Although, it would be worth it. Now, if I can just get Irish to see that I’m on the up and up. That I really do have feelings for her and I’m not gonna break her heart. Shit. This may take a while.

  I take the makeshift ice pack back over to the bed. I look into her eyes that have softened and smile, sitting down next to her legs. Placing the towel on her knee, I watch her close her eyes as she winces with the impact. My brows lower as I watch her breathing become heavier, and then she finally relaxes. “I’m sorry, Irish.” Her eyes open, those beautiful brown eyes that I get lost in, stare into mine. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I look down at my hand pressing the ice pack on her knee, then back up to those mesmerizing eyes. “I never want to hurt you.”

  She leans up on her arms and I lean down. Her lips press against mine and I drop the ice pack, everything forgotten but her. It’s a chaste kiss. Tender. Sweet. She smiles as I move back, but just a little. “Be patient with me? I can’t change overnight.”

  I put my hand through her long hair, cupping the back of her neck as I move closer. “I don’t want to change you, love.” I kiss her again, lovingly. “So many walls to break down. I’m as patient as they come. Just don’t run away from me again. Give me a chance to show you that I’m one of the good guys. Let me prove it to you.”

  She nods, slightly, her smile not wavering. She leans up and captures my mouth, parting her lips immediately. So sweet. So trusting. Yet I know how short lived that can be with her. If she’d only give me the chance to really show her. Love her. Love? Where’d that come from? I know I’m falling. Falling so hard. I know we both need time. Time to grow with each other. Time for her to find out that not every man who wants her wants only her body alone.

  “I’ll try,” she whispers. Her hand moves up to my face. I close my eyes as her fingers thread through my hair. When I open them, I see desire in hers. Damn, she’s killing me here. How can I go slow when she looks at me like that?

  “Irish,” I warn. She tries to look innocent but then she sucks that damn lower lip into her mouth. A growl emanates from deep within me, and I’m not able to stop it. “You’re making it really tough to go slow here.” The corner of her mouth turns up into a playful grin. “And you’re hurt.” I climb off the bed and walk to the other side, picking up the phone. “Yes. Please send up two of your breakfast samplers, with toast, jam, and lots of butter.” I shift my eyes to Irish and see her full smile. “Yes. Thank you. Also, orange juice and a side of pancakes.” I place the receiver down on the phone, turn, and give her my best smile. “First off, fattening you up a bit.” Her brows raise and an O forms on those luscious lips. Damn, makes me want to take my hard cock and…. Her mouth turns into a pout and now I want to suck that damn lower lip into my mouth. Not helping!

  “But I watch my figure. You’re gonna make that really hard to do.” Hard. Shit! Really not helping!

  I practically jog around the bed, climbing on top of her. My mouth claims hers, my hand covering the side of her face. I can’t stop my tongue from diving in between her parted lips, tangling instantly with hers. Wet. Sweet. God! I want
to be inside her so badly. I want to feel her all around me, make her come so hard. My lips start moving all over her face, leaving wet kisses in a trail. “God. What you do to me, woman. You’re making this tougher and tougher to go slow with you. Fuck!” I reach her ear, nip the lobe, and my cock strains against my jeans, pressing against her, and it elicits a guttural moan from that hot mouth of hers. A knock on the door stops me from going further. Thank God! She’s gonna be the death of me. My resistance is wavering.

  Quickly I leave her and walk to the door. I open it and a woman pushes in a large cart with the food I ordered. I walk behind her and gather a couple of chairs to put around it. After tipping her, I hear the door close and walk to the side of the bed. I lift Irish into my arms with ease. She feels like she weighs nothing. She lets out a surprise gasp and I chuckle as I carry her to a chair and set her down gently.

  “I could have walked.” She smiles up at me.

  I sit down across from her and pick up my napkin. “You could have hobbled but I kind of enjoy carrying you.” I give her my cocky grin and a giggle escapes her. “Besides, you shouldn’t be walking with that knee. If it’s not better tomorrow, I’m taking you to the doctor for x-rays.” Her mouth shuts tight, a scowl appears on her face. “What?” I pick up my fork and take a bite of my eggs.

  “I can take care of myself, Caylan.” She all but growls.

  I lift my brow and smirk. “Yes. I can see that.”

  She needs to know that I want to take care of her. She needs to let me. I’ll do it anyway, but it would be nice for her to agree. And easier. “I know you’re independent, Irish. That’s one of the things I like about you.” She’s got her fork lifted in the air with a spearing of pancakes on it, her mouth open. How can I concentrate when she does that? “It’s okay to let someone help you. I want to be the one to do that.”