by Jill Shalvis
Sean wished he was.
“Can you believe it?”
No, dammit.
“They really want me, Little Miss No One U.S.A.!”
And just like that, Sean’s heart fell right to his toes.
“Sean?”
“It’s great,” he heard himself say. “Of course they want you. You’re the best.”
“No, I’m—”
“The best,” he said firmly, willing her to believe it. Willing her the confidence she’d never had, the confidence he was supposed to have somehow given her but hadn’t.
He’d tried.
But their parents had never really known what to do with their young, wild, carefree, trouble-bound daughter. Sean had been ten when she’d been born, already independent, so he hadn’t spent that much time with her—until five years ago, when their parents had died one after the other.
Twenty-five years old. His own man. His own life. And yet he’d been left with this whimsical, fanciful fifteen-year-old on his doorstep. Sean hadn’t known a thing about teenage girls, much less troubled ones, but they’d gotten to know each other pretty quick. Together they’d done the best they could, but deep down he knew a real guilt, for even his best had clearly not been good enough.
He hadn’t managed to make Stacy believe in herself and her abilities.
“This is my future, Sean.”
“I know.”
“Do you think I could stay? Just for another week or so?”
“Another week?” His voice cracked on that one. “That’s a long time, Stace. Melissa really misses you.”
“I miss her, too, so much. She’s doing okay?”
Sure. If he forgot about her destroying his office one-handed. If he forgot the fact that she had a cry that could crack glass and a temper that could headline any horror flick. But she also had huge, expressive eyes that looked at him as if he were the center of her universe. And a hug that got him every time. “She’s doing good.”
“I’m making money, and it’s not flipping burgers. I can’t get over that.” She sighed with relief.
Sean stifled his own sigh. “We’ll be here waiting.”
SEAN WENT to work before dawn. He did some of his best thinking at work.
Fact was, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t sure about a lot of things.
Such as Carly.
But he was clear on one thing. They seemed to have a hormone problem around each other. It wasn’t something he understood.
Until Tina, he’d had the occasional relationship, which included a date every week or so, the midweek phone call and some recreational sex.
Then Tina had come along, and he had fallen hard. After, he’d closed off his heart.
End of problem.
Ever since, he’d avoided complications. Simple enough. Whenever a woman wanted more from him, he felt claustrophobic. But this time there was no claustrophobia in sight, and this woman was living with him. What did that say?
The thought was nothing less than terrifying.
He could want her and not trust her, he told himself. He’d learned that much. Keep it simple. Easy. Light.
Yeah, no problem.
So why he canceled a meeting, didn’t return phone calls, left Nikki with her mouth hanging open in shock and, for only the second time ever, went home early was beyond him.
So much for simple, easy and light.
He didn’t want to think about why he was doing this. Except that when Melissa saw him walking up the porch steps, she squealed with such delight his heart squeezed.
Carly didn’t squeal with delight, she didn’t even smile, but something in the way she looked at him melted him anyway. He didn’t want to be drawn to her, but it didn’t seem to matter what he wanted. His brain was no longer in charge.
The unthinkable happened the next morning, Saturday.
He didn’t want to go to the office. He wanted a weekend at home, no work, complete with relaxing. He wasn’t sure what that entailed exactly, but he would figure it out.
It was early when he walked into the kitchen, but Melissa and Carly were already there. They stared at him in surprise.
“You’re late for work,” Melissa said, pointing her finger at him. “Bad boy.”
“I’m not going to work.”
Melissa grinned.
Carly went still.
“I’m taking the day off.”
“To do what?” Melissa asked.
“Well…” He glanced at Carly, then laughed. “I’m not sure.”
“I’ll pack,” Carly said quietly.
She thought it was over. And the two weeks were. His heart squeezed because he didn’t want her to go. In spite of everything, he didn’t want to say goodbye. “Yeah. About that—”
“Can we have a picnic?” Melissa demanded, oblivious to the tension around her.
“Just a minute, Melissa.” Sean lowered his voice to a mere whisper for Carly. “My sister needs some more time.”
“She’s not coming back?”
He shook his head. “Not for at least another week.”
She looked deep into his eyes for a long moment. “I didn’t expect that.”
“I know. Will you stay?”
Melissa was bouncing around at their feet. “So can we? Can we have a picnic?”
Carly was looking at Sean. “Yes,” she said.
Melissa beamed, thinking she had her answer. “Yippee! A picnic!”
Carly avoided Melissa’s gaze and started cleaning the breakfast dishes. “Have fun,” she said.
Melissa threw her arms around Sean and gave him a sloppy, wet kiss on the cheek. “You’re the bestest,” she cried.
Sean wiped his slobbery cheek, smiled at Melissa, then moved behind Carly, who was washing a pan for all it was worth. “You game for a picnic?”
She looked at him, glasses fogged from the hot water, for once her mouth unpainted. She had a world of mistrust in her gaze. And a vulnerability that twisted at him.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “I’m the bestest, you know.”
She smiled at that. “Yes. Yes, you are.”
Grinning, he bent to kiss her on the cheek. Just a little kiss. A little thank-you kiss.
Only Carly turned to look at him, and their mouths lined up.
Perfectly.
She made a little sound, and Sean pressed closer still, needing to hold that kiss for as long as he could. He might have stayed like that forever, except he became aware of a violent tugging on his pants.
“Kiss me, too!” Melissa yelled.
“Okay.” Still stunned, Sean bent low, gave her a sweet little peck on the cheek.
“That’s not the same!”
Carly let out a startled laugh.
And at the sound, Sean felt lighter than he had in a very long time. “No, it’s not the same kind of kiss at all.”
8
FOR THE FIRST TIME in Sean’s life, he was attracted to a woman, and it had nothing to do with her physical appearance. He couldn’t blow it off to…well, he didn’t know exactly.
They saw a movie. Went on a picnic. Had a walk on the beach.
Melissa had a great day, and Sean had to admit, so did he.
It wasn’t until he’d showered for the dreaded required cocktail party that night that work came into his brain. It almost seemed like an imposition.
He came out of the shower, reached for his clothes and stopped short. Would Carly have something to wear to go with him tonight? And how could he not have thought of it before?
He doubted she had much money, and she certainly didn’t seem to have a wide variety of clothes.
Cursing himself, he slipped into his pants and went down the hall to her bedroom.
“Yes?” She didn’t open the door to his knock.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Uh, now? I’m a little busy.” She did sound rushed. “I’m trying to get ready.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I might have forgotten to m
ention it’s dressy….”
“You mentioned.”
“Okay, well…” Ah, hell. “Carly, do you have something to wear?”
“Now’s a fine time to ask,” she said, but at least there was a smile in her voice.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. So…” He stared at the closed door, feeling like an idiot. “Do you? Have something to wear?”
“Go away, Sean. I’ll be ready in a second.”
YES, CARLYNE had something to wear. But no, it wasn’t going to be sleek and slinky and earth-stopping.
She looked at herself in the mirror and felt…plain.
It was new, this feeling, this not turning heads. Who would have thought she’d miss that? “Did you change your mind about taking me with you?” she called to Sean, not knowing if he still stood outside her door. In the mood for a little trouble, she hauled it open with a satisfying yank. “Because, if you did, that’s really just fine with me—”
Oh, Lord.
He still stood there, wearing only his pants. His chest was wet, as if he’d showered and hadn’t taken time to towel off.
Had he said his swimming was a stress reliever? Because man, oh, man, it had truly done wonders for his physique. Those broad shoulders, that sleek, smooth chest…
“I didn’t change my mind about taking you,” he said. A tiny rivulet of water ran down his jaw, dropped to his chest and slowly slid over his ribs, past that stomach she wanted to touch, and disappeared into his pants. They were open, proving he’d indeed been in some kind of hurry, and if there’d been better light in the hallway she might have gotten to see—
“Did you change yours?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
He’d seen her staring. And he was staring back. Only it wasn’t in quite the same heated, hungry way, and she couldn’t say she blamed him.
She wore a full black skirt, to the floor. The matching sweater was a zippered tunic, leaving her covered from chin to toe. It was purposely unrevealing and not even close to sexy. But it suited Carly.
If Carlyne had dressed like this, whoever her date was would have been bitterly disappointed, as she was known for her beautiful, sophisticated and naturally sexy style.
But Carly wasn’t sophisticated.
Sean didn’t look disappointed, though. In fact, he wasn’t looking at her body at all, but into her eyes. She saw relief that she was going with him, and something else that made her breath catch.
Had she thought he wasn’t looking at her with hunger and heat?
He was, oh, he definitely was, and it was her own little miracle.
“I just wanted to make sure about your dress,” he said quietly. “I should have asked before now.”
She’d done nothing to deserve it, and yet he cared about her. Another miracle. “Are you…going like that?”
Mischief filled his gaze. “Is that a problem for you?”
“Not for me. But you might find it tedious with all the women in the place following you around, drooling.”
He laughed, looking a little embarrassed, which she found unbearably sweet.
The men in her world knew exactly how gorgeous they were.
“I’ll be ready in five,” he said.
In five minutes exactly, he met her in the foyer, and Carlyne nearly fell over.
She’d seen him in jeans. In casual wear. Oh, and his bathing suit, let’s not forget that mouthwatering experience. But she’d never seen him dressed for success. Quite simply, he took her breath away.
“Okay?” he asked.
Okay? He could have walked right off the glossy pages of any magazine. “I, uh, yeah. You look…”
Mrs. Trykowski walked in the front door. “Beautiful!” She gave him an enthusiastic hug. “Only thirty years younger, Seany, my boy, and I’d go for you myself.”
To Carlyne’s amusement, he reddened as he kissed Melissa goodbye.
The little girl clung, throwing her arms around her uncle’s neck. For exactly one second, Sean hesitated, as if surprised by her genuine show of love and affection. As if he didn’t quite know what to do with all that emotion.
Over Melissa’s head, he met Carly’s gaze.
Just as baffled by matters of the heart, Carlyne lifted a shoulder and gave him a little smile. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his arms around Melissa and returned the hug.
It was a family moment, a special one. And suddenly she yearned for some of that same love and affection in her family.
But then Sean was taking her arm, leading her down the walk, and they were alone in his car.
He put the key in the ignition but didn’t turn. Instead, he faced her, looked at her, into her. Unhappy in her get-up, especially next to his beautifully clad body, she wished he could see the real her, not this dowdy unsophisticated person she’d created. Wished he’d stop looking at her. “What?”
“You’re beautiful.”
With a snort, she pushed up her glasses and turned away.
His hand settled on her arm, and reluctantly she turned back.
“You are,” he said quietly.
“We’re going to be late.”
“Carly…”
That name! “Please, Sean. Just drive. Let’s get this over with.”
For a moment, he looked at her, at her hair, her glasses, her mouth, then into her eyes. “We can talk later then.”
“Maybe.”
He started the car. “Definitely.”
HALFWAY UP THE WALK to the sprawling beachfront house where the party was, Carlyne’s deep skirt pocket started ringing.
It was her cell phone, which she was carrying because she still hadn’t made her daily call to Francesca.
Sean stopped short and looked at her as if she’d grown wings. “Your skirt is ringing.”
“It’s nobody,” she said, hoping Francesca—it had to be Francesca—would hang up.
“Why don’t you take out the phone and say hello to nobody?” Sean asked.
“It’s probably just a wrong number.”
“Uh-huh.” He reached into her pocket and took out the phone. Looking at the readout, which had a caller ID, he frowned. “It’s long distance. As in another country.”
She grabbed the phone. “Hello, Francesca. Can you say bad timing?”
“Sorry, sweetie. I’m going to be out and didn’t want to miss your call. How’s your hunky boss?”
Carlyne pressed the phone closer to her ear and glared at Sean. “I never said he was a hunk.”
He lifted a brow.
Francesca laughed. “You never had to. You extended your stay. You wouldn’t have done that for just anyone.”
Was she so shallow that she wouldn’t have helped a friend in need unless he fit a certain physical criteria? God, she hated facing that. “Well, I’m doing it now,” she said stiffly. “And that’s what counts.”
“Yes,” Francesca agreed sweetly. “And of course, with all this newfound righteousness, you’ve told him the truth.”
“Um…” Carlyne looked at Sean.
He smiled.
Her heart went pitter-patter. She wanted him, no doubt. But she couldn’t let herself have him under this pretense. It was wrong. “Tonight,” she promised.
Francesca sighed with relief. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
“Who was that?” Sean asked as she slipped the phone into her pocket.
It was time, past time, to come clean with the man she’d more than half fallen for. But in doing so, she very well might lose the best thing that had ever happened to her. “It was a friend of mine.”
“Ah, you admit to having a life.”
She had to smile. “Yes.”
His eyes softened, and he cupped her face. “That’s a start.”
Because she had to, she went up on tiptoe and kissed him softly.
His thumbs stroked her jaw. “You keep doing that and we’ll miss the party.”
“That would be…lovely.”
His eyes heated. “Say the word.”<
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“Sean.”
He slid his cheek to hers, nibbled at her ear. “You know where to find me when you’re ready.” He opened his mouth on her throat, and her eyes crossed with lust. “Are you?” He dragged that hot, wet mouth down her neck. “Ready?”
Judging by the weakness in every bone, yes. Judging by the throbbing between her thighs, double resounding yes.
“Your party,” she mumbled. “You said it was required.”
He lifted his head, looking frustrated and hot. Very hot. “After the party, then.”
At the thought, the throbbing intensified. After the party they would do it all. Talk. Make love. Talk some more.
Or so she hoped, with all her heart.
THERE WAS MUSIC and laughter. Elegant, sophisticated people milling around, talking about themselves. It should have been second nature to Carlyne, but it wasn’t to Carly.
All she could think about was Sean. About tonight. Tense and edgy, she did her best to circulate when what she really wanted was some release to all this tension inside her. The music was classical, the food expensive and tasteful. The people were interesting.
And she couldn’t breathe.
She escaped into the bathroom, turned on the light and stared at her reflection. What was the matter with her? She should have fit right in out there.
She’d been bred for such parties. Small talk, a distant smile…she had a talent.
But tonight she wasn’t Princess Carlyne.
Tonight she was Carly, a woman who took care of a child for a living. A woman beginning to wish with all her might that this was really her life.
“Carly?”
At the light knock on the bathroom door and the unbearably familiar masculine voice, everything within her tightened in anticipation. Debating between what her brain knew to be best and what her body wanted, she opened the door a crack. Sean pushed in.
“Sean. What are you doing?”
He shut the door, then sent her a long, scorching look that told her exactly what he wanted to be doing. He was so big, so leanly muscled, so masculine. So gorgeous. And so utterly out of place in this ridiculously feminine bathroom.