by Kennedy Fox
“Always,” Silas and I reply at the same time.
“Where are you now?” Brody asks.
I turn the phone to Silas because I have no idea where we are. I blame him, his dimples, his sweet confessions, and that damn hand that’s still holding tightly to mine. Oh, and the sweatpants. We can’t forget the sweatpants.
“We’re just about an hour in, but it’s slow-moving. I’ve not been able to drive over forty-five miles an hour.”
“You should stop somewhere for the night. Don’t try to do it all at once,” my sister suggests.
“We’ll see how it goes.”
“We all know that Callista isn’t going to want to drive in that,” my sister adds.
I make a mental note to ask her what’s up with her comments when it’s just the two of us. She and I both know that driving in the snow doesn’t bother me. Sure, it’s stressful, but I want to get home to see my niece be born. That’s the only motivation I need, and she knows that.
“I’ve got Callista,” Silas replies, giving my hand a squeeze.
Is it just me or is his voice huskier? “Keep us posted,” Charity says. “Bye.” She waves at the screen, and the calls goes black. I stare at the screen for a few seconds. My sister is acting weird. When my phone vibrates with a text message and her name pops up, worry grabs hold of my chest.
Charity: This is your chance!
I have no idea what she’s talking about.
Me: What in the hell are you talking about?
Charity: Silas. Go for it.
Suddenly, her rush to get off the phone and her insistence that I can’t drive or won’t drive in the snow and that we should stop and rest for the night all makes sense. She’s playing matchmaker. I should have known. All those years ago, when I first met Silas, I told her how hot I thought he was. That’s a given. All you have to do is look at him. She’s been telling me I should at least hook-up with him for years, but I’m not that kind of girl. I’m going to be twenty-six, and I’m ready to settle down. I want what my sister and Brody have, and Silas seems to be content to remain single and play the field. Hell, he’s going to be on a book cover. I know how the women readers react to a sexy man on the cover of their favorite book. I am one of those readers. He’s going to be thrust into the limelight of the romance book world and will have his pick of whoever he wants.
Charity: I saw him holding your hand.
How is that possible?
Charity: When you dropped the phone in your lap.
It’s as if she’s in my head. She follows her message up with a row of emojis that are winking at me.
Me: It’s nothing.
Charity: Didn’t look like nothing.
Charity: Keep telling yourself that.
Me: Take care of my niece.
Charity: Take care of Silas.
I ignore her and go back to the screen full of questions. Over the next hour, I read random questions, and we both answer. I started this to pass the time and to hopefully help dissipate some of the sexual tension; it doesn’t. Now when he never lets go of my hand, he draws circles on my palm with his thumb. Not only that, but I find out more about him. Not just the hot guy who is my brother-in-law’s best friend, but the man himself.
I was already harboring a crush of sorts, and now, well, now I’m falling.
Chapter Four
SILAS
“I have to pee,” Callista announces.
We’ve been driving for a few hours now, and the thought of stretching my legs, and maybe some food sounds pretty damn good right now. “We’re going to fill up anyway, and I’m starving. You?”
“Did you not hear my stomach growl about an hour ago?”
“You should have told me. Wait, how long have you had to pee?”
“About the same time.”
“Babe, you have to tell me these things. I don’t mind stopping, but I don’t know to stop unless you tell me.”
“I don’t want to be that passenger. The ‘are we there yet, I have to pee, and I’m hungry every ten miles’ whiner.”
I throw my head back and laugh as I signal to take the next exit. “You aren’t. You need something. You tell me, and I make it happen. That’s how this works.” I feel like an ass. I was so lost in the feel of her hand in mine and her scent that seems to be overpowering the inside of the vehicle. I was in my own little Callista world.
“Looks like there’s a diner attached to the gas station. Is that good with you?” I ask.
“I’m good with gas station pizza or three-day-old hot dogs at this point,” she replies.
After pulling into the station, I park in front of the diner. We can fill up the tank before we leave. Right now, I need to get her fed. Grabbing my phone and the keys, we both climb out of the car. I follow along behind Callista, reaching in front of her to open the door, then leading her inside with my hand on the small of her back.
“Sit anywhere you’d like,” an older waitress calls out.
I spy a booth in the back of the room and lead us to it. Like the gentleman I am, I help Callista out of her coat and hang it on the hook that towers over the booth.
“I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
Before I can slide into the booth, there are two cups of coffee and two glasses of water sitting in front of us.
“I’m Betty. I’ll give you a few minutes,” the waitress, who looks like she’s my grandma’s age, says before walking back behind the counter.
I open the menu and begin to look it over. I’m starving. It all looks good.
“Thank you. I feel so much better.” She wrinkles up her nose at the cup of coffee.
Reaching over, I take the coffee cup sitting in front of Callista and push it aside. I know she hates the smell and the taste. I do the same with mine. I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker. “What sounds good?” I ask, handing her a menu.
“All of it. I think I want to order breakfast. There is just something about these small diners and their breakfast.”
“That does sound good,” I say, looking over the menu at my options.
“I can’t decide if I want the pancakes or the french toast,” she muses.
“What can I get ya?” Betty asks, stepping beside our booth.
I defer to Callista, already knowing I’m going to order the opposite of what she does just in case she changes her mind. I’ve done it a million times when we’re all out together, and so far, she’s yet to catch on.
“I’ll have the pancakes and sausage links, please,” she says, handing Betty her menu.
“And for you?”
“I’ll have the french toast and a side order of bacon.”
“Something wrong with the coffee?” she asks, eyeing the two mugs that have been pushed to the side.
“No. Just not coffee drinkers,” I tell her.
“How about some OJ?”
“Perfect,” Callista answers before I have a chance to.
“Let’s see this list you’ve been reading from all day.” I hold my hand out for her phone. She doesn’t hesitate to unlock the screen and hand it over. I scroll through until I reach a section we’ve yet to touch on. “My turn.” I grin at her.
“Hit me,” she says, taking a drink of the OJ that Betty just placed in front of her.
“Would you rather sneeze every time you orgasm or orgasm every time you sneeze?”
“Definitely every time I sneeze,” she answers without missing a beat.
“Really?”
She points a finger at her chest. “Single girl here. Orgasms are few and far between.”
My cock twitches and I want to tell her I can solve that problem for her. She’s smiling, her brown eyes twinkling, and I realize I no longer want to hold back from her. I’ve already pushed the limits, and we’re only a few hours into this road trip. “You need some help with that?” I ask. My voice is husky, even to my own ears.
She sputters and coughs, tapping her chest. “Wh-What?” she asks. Her eyes are wide,
but the way she bites down on her bottom lip tells me she’s not entirely against the idea.
My hand slides across the table and links with hers. I open my mouth to say… what I’m not exactly sure. Part of me wants to beg her to let me be the man to give her what she needs, but that’s not me. I don’t beg. Thankfully, Betty appears before I can fall to that level.
“Here you go.” She sets our plates in front of us and gives each of us a fresh glass of orange juice.
“What about you?” Callista asks. Her voice is soft and breathy. Sexy.
“What about me?”
“Sneezing during or….” Her voice trails off.
Avoidance, I can deal with. It’s not a refusal. “I’m going to have to go with every time. Things get messy, and I can’t exactly hide my body’s reaction to an orgasm. No man wants to be hard at random times. That could become an issue.” Like now. Thankfully the table is hiding what she does to me.
“Right,” she says, her face turning pink. Fuck me, but I can’t help but wonder how far that blush travels down her chest.
“Next question.” I pick up her phone and hand it to her. She wipes her mouth and unlocks the screen, handing it back to me. “Would you rather send nudes to your boss or your parents?” I read the question.
“My parents. My boss is a world-renowned photographer. She’d be too critical. What about you?”
“Either. Cap would get a kick out of it, and you’ve met my parents. They’d probably get a kick out of it too.” I shrug. As far as the parents’ department goes, we both hit the lottery. Our families are very similar, except for the fact I’m an only child.
“You’re right.” She chuckles before taking another bite of her pancakes. I watch as she chews and swallows, then points at my plate. “Those look good,” she comments.
“Try some.” I push my plate forward, and she doesn’t hesitate to cut off a huge bite of french toast, drag it through the syrup, and shovel it into her mouth. “Oh, God,” she moans.
She’s trying to kill me.
“Next question,” I say, reaching over and taking a huge fork full of her pancakes. She grins and swipes a slice of bacon. “Would you rather have to eat moldy bread once a day, or never eat a meal with me again?” I changed that one up a little, but I need something from her. Something that tells me that she’s feeling me, feeling this tension between us.
“Moldy bread,” she says, shoving my last piece of bacon into her mouth.
I never wanted to kiss someone so badly in my entire life. “Me too,” I say, my voice gravelly. I clear my throat. “Okay, next question.” My eyes scan the screen until I land on the one I want. “Would you rather only be able to be on the bottom during sex or only the top?”
“Neither.” She’s quick to reply. “Sex is supposed to be mutual. When it’s good, there is so much passion that it’s about the connection with the other person, not the position. I want the freedom to do what feels good at the time.” She takes a sip of her orange juice. “Then again, I’m single so….” She shrugs.
“Spontaneity. I understand what you’re trying to say. I understand that a schedule of sorts works for some, but that’s one of my biggest fears. Becoming complacent. I want a partner in life, and I want to live life with them. I don’t want to know that every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday we’re going to have sex. I want to be able to roll over in the middle of the night and make slow love to her. Or come home after a bad day and fuck it away.” Her eyes widen, but that doesn’t hide the way her chest is rapidly rising and falling with each breath she takes. “I want to know that the person I’m with is with me for me, and that we both have the freedom to be ourselves and take what we need, as well as give what the other needs. Partnership.” I take in her slack jaw, showing her surprise at my answer. “Oh, and you broke the rules. You’re supposed to pick one or the other, remember?” I smirk.
“How are you still single?” she blurts.
“Still waiting to find her.”
“Find who?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.
“My everything.”
Callista nods as if she understands all too well what I’m referring to. We finish eating in silence; both of us lost in our thoughts.
“I’m stuffed,” she says, pushing her plate away from her.
“Me too,” I agree. Between the two of us eating off each other’s plates, we’ve consumed a good amount of food. “I’m going to take care of the check.”
“I’m going to hit the bathroom again, just for good measure.” She reaches for her purse and pulls out her wallet.
“No.” I shake my head. “This is on me. I’m going to pay and use the restroom too, and I’ll meet you in the car.” I hand her the keys to the rental.
“Thank you, Silas.”
I want to tell her there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. After years of lusting for her, I’m finally at a place where I’m tired of wanting her from afar. I need to make my move, but first, I need to decide what that move is.
Chapter Five
CALLISTA
“Are you sure that you don’t want to stop?” I ask Silas.
“Nope. We’ve got maybe fifty miles to go. I’m going to push through.”
“We can stop. I feel bad that you’ve done all of the driving. You have to be exhausted.” He reaches over and places his hand on my thigh.
“I’m good, babe.”
It’s three in the morning, and I’m beat, but hearing him call me babe, accompanied by his touch, and I feel more alive, more awake than ever before. Without thinking about it, I place my hand on top of his and fold my fingers through his. I don’t know what this means. Maybe he’s just being extra friendly, but this trip has felt different. I feel like I know him better than I know myself after our hours of conversation.
“You can sleep, Callista. I’ll get you home safe. I promise.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just feel guilty. You can’t sleep, so I shouldn’t be able to either.”
“Close your eyes, beautiful. I’ll wake you when we get there.” His voice is soft. Soothing.
Settling back in the seat, I turn my head to face him. The glow of the lights from the dash gives me a muted view of his strong angular jawline and the scruff that’s covering his face. His hair is mussed, and I want to run my hands through it. That’s my last thought as the exhaustion I’ve been fighting finally claims me.
“Wake up, baby,” a gruff voice whispers. I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or if the sexy voice is real. It’s not until I feel a press of lips against my forehead that I know I’m not dreaming. My eyes flutter open. “There she is,” Silas says softly. “We’re at your place.”
“I’m sorry I fell asleep.”
“Don’t be. Come on. I’ll carry your stuff in.” He climbs out of the car, and I grab my purse and coat and do the same. I don’t bother putting it back on. Instead, I gather it in my arms to ward off the chill of the early morning air.
“Grab yours too,” I tell Silas. “You’ve been driving for more hours than I care to count right now. You can crash here tonight.”
“It’s only another—” He starts, but the look I give him stops him. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Come on. It’s freezing out here.” Together, we make our way up the steps to my small two-bedroom ranch-style home. I’m terrible with keys, so Brody and Silas installed keyless entry for me two summers ago. I quickly key in the code and rush to turn off the alarm. A woman living alone, you can never be too careful. In fact, it was Brody and Silas who convinced me of that as well.
Once we’re inside and the door is shut, I take a deep breath and offer him my hand. He doesn’t hesitate to take it. He allows me to lead him back to my room. “We’re both exhausted,” I say by way of explanation. “It’s a king, plenty of room for both of us.” My spare bedroom is an office. I’ve been meaning to get a bed to put in there, or a pull-out sofa or something. Now, I’m glad I didn’t.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat. “I’m going to use the restroom. Make yourself at home.” I disappear into the bathroom across the hall. I take care of business and grab the nightshirt I slept in the night before I flew out to Michigan. I only wore it one night, and I’m too exhausted to go back to my room, get something to sleep in, and then back here to change. It will have to do. Changed, I turn off the light. I stand in the dark room with my hand on the doorknob, willing my heart to slow its rhythm. He’s not here for me. He just needs a place to sleep, and his tall frame would not be comfortable on the couch. After that long-ass trip, we both need a soft, comfortable bed to sleep in. I’m an adult. I can handle sleeping next to a sexy man and not attack him.
I think.
“All yours if you need it,” I tell Silas, not making eye contact with him.
“Thanks, babe.” He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze as he passes me.
As soon as the bathroom door closes, I dive for the bed and burrow under the covers. The overhead light is still on, but Silas will get it. I can’t believe I’m about to sleep next to him. Sure, it’s innocent, and we’re both drained from the trip, but still… Silas Taylor is sleeping in my bed!
“You need anything?” he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“No. All set. Can you get the light?” No sooner than the words are out of my mouth, the room is bathed in darkness. I can hear his footsteps as he pads to the opposite side of the bed. There’s a dip in the mattress as he climbs under the covers.
“Night, beautiful.” His gruff voice echoes throughout the room.
“Goodnight.” My words are barely a whisper, but in the quiet of the room, I’m sure he heard me. I’m exhausted, and being able to stretch out on my bed, snuggled under the covers, feels incredible after the long stressful drive we just did. However, as I lie here staring up at the ceiling watching the shadows dance, I can’t seem to fall asleep. It’s as if my body is aware that the guy who always seems untouchable is next to me. I don’t know how long I lie here with my mind racing. It’s not until I feel the bed move that I shut my eyes and roll over, facing away from him. I don’t want him to know that his presence is affecting me the way that it is.