It’s Like That (2 page)

“Go? No! Stay, Callie! I was just telling Pa—Chris here about you. His mom taught second grade too, and he said he’d like to meet you.” Sara grabbed Callie’s arm and spun her to face him. “Plus, he’s going to be your escort at the wedding.”

Callie swallowed nervously and stared at the hollow point where his neck met his chest. “Hi,” she whispered, unable to coax her voice out of her throat.

“Hi, Callie.” His deep voice rumbled from his chest, and her name from his lips sounded so good that she closed her eyes. “Up here.” He bent down a little and caught her gaze with his before she had a chance to look away.

He stuck out his hand, and before she could think about it, good manners made her slip her fingers into his palm. He grasped her hand gently, the dry warmth of his fingers curling around her cold, clammy hand. He shook her hand in a barely perceptible movement, holding her gaze. “I’m Chris Paulson.” His voice was soft, inaudible to anyone but her, and her hand felt so small in his. She nodded and swallowed.

“Callie Alexson,” she muttered. He continued to hold her hand and stroked his thumb across her wrist so softly she wasn’t entirely sure it happened.

“Nice to meet you,” he murmured.

She tugged gently and he released her as though afraid she would fall if he didn’t hold on to her. She very well might, she thought.

“Would you like to go for a swim with me?” He smiled again, that half smile that made her stomach drop, as he awaited her response.

“Um…” She hesitated.

“I guess that means yes.” He grasped her elbow in a warm grip and pulled her back outside to the pool.

Callie followed, unable to take her eyes off his shoulder, not seeing any of the other guests laughing around them. They were just about knee deep in the water before she realized that she had to take off the swimsuit cover that gave her a little more security.

“Wait!” she cried, pulling her arm away.

He turned to her and lifted one eyebrow in a silent question.

“My cover…I need to take it off.” She plucked at the baggy black shirt and looked down, reluctant to lose her security blanket.

“By all means then.” He held out his hand, waiting.

She hesitated again before taking a deep breath and tugging it over her head. When she’d pulled it off, she looked back at him. He was giving her that look again, the intense stare that focused on each area of her body. She balled up the cover and held it wadded in front of her abdomen before he gently took it from her and tossed it on the concrete beside the pool. He took her hand and led her deeper into the water. Callie took a fortifying breath, closed her eyes, and gathered her courage.

*

Jesus.
She’d pulled that stupid shirt off and his dick had sprung up like a damned jack-in-the-box. Her nipples were puckered beneath the swimsuit, and his mouth watered,
actually watered
, thinking about how they would taste. His erection was obvious to anyone who happened to glance his way, and he hurried into the water, dragging her a little roughly, to hide it. He couldn’t give less than two shits about anyone else, but he didn’t want to scare her. And she was skittish. He’d never seen a woman who looked like she was constantly on the verge of running away. Sara had said she was self-conscious, but he wasn’t sure about what. He assumed it was her body that caused her shyness. Most women were concerned about body image. Callie was probably shy because she didn’t look like an anorexic. He suppressed the urge to snort. Chris came from a family of women who loved to cook and eat. He didn’t want a woman who munched on rice cakes, whatever the fuck those were, instead of eating real food. He wanted a woman who looked like a By-God-Woman, not a twig.

He stopped moving when the water was lapping at his shoulders and turned back to her. She was bouncing on her tiptoes and treading water, watching him with her eyes narrowed. Chris grinned. She was wary of him. Good; she should be.

It hadn’t been intentional, but the depth this far into the pool could work in his favor. He pulled Callie closer to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. He was still standing easily, his feet flat on the bottom, but she had to work to keep her head above water.

“Here,” he said, sliding his hands down her arms, across her shoulders, and down her back to rest on her hips. “Hold on to me.”

“Oh, okay.” She stared at the spot on his throat again. “I’m not a strong swimmer.”

“Oh yeah?” He grinned and pulled her a little closer until her toes no longer touched the bottom but were brushing across the tops of his feet. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m here. Because I’m a very strong swimmer.”

She stiffened in his arms, and he weighed the pros and cons of coaching her on swimming. On one hand, everyone should know how to swim and know how to swim well. On the other hand, if she could swim well, she wouldn’t need to hold on to him so tightly.

He wavered for only a moment. Fuck it. He’d teach her another day. He took another step backward until the water was at his chin level. She wrapped one arm around his neck and gasped. He grinned. She was completely pressed against him at last, her breasts flattened against his chest and her hips against his stomach. His cock twitched.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured in her ear. If he hadn’t been holding her so tightly, he wouldn’t have felt the tiny, involuntary shudder that passed through her body as his breath brushed her ear. He inhaled deeply, and almost groaned at the peachy smell of her hair. God, he loved the smell of peaches. He was a Georgia boy, born and bred, and the intoxicating smell of home combined with the sensual promise of her body had him suppressing the urge to groan out loud. “You smell amazing,” he whispered.

Her body did that little shuddering thing again, and it took every ounce of his self-control to keep his hands at her hips instead of moving them lower to wrap her legs around him.

“Um, thank you,” she whispered softly, her breath warming his cheek.

He pulled his face back until they were nose to nose, and looked into the deepest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Something in him stuttered, stopped, and jumped back to life, and just like that, Chris Paulson fell.

He felt her heartbeat pick up and pound right along with his as he looked at her like she was the only woman on the planet. At the moment, he was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was. She was stiff in his arms, as though her brain was screaming at her to run away. But her racing heart, and the way her glorious, albeit tense, body ignored her brain and snuggled a little closer to his told him he wasn’t the only one feeling the chemistry. His eyelids lowered, and he couldn’t drag his focus from her lips. He had to kiss her. He felt like he’d die if he didn’t, and his heart skipped a beat in nervous hesitation. His head dipped and she tilted her chin up slightly, inviting him to do far less than what he wanted to.

Suddenly from behind them came a laughing scream and a splash, and the moment was lost. Instinct kicked in and, before she could even turn her head, Chris spun them around, tugged her onto his back, and began swimming for the other side of the pool.

The splashing stopped as quickly as it had begun, but he had already reached the pool’s edge. He pulled her around in front of him and put her back to the edge. One leg gently pushed between her thighs, propping her body against his own. He reached his hands under her arms and grasped the edge of the pool, caging her in and automatically using his body to shield her from whatever the threat was. Her hands came up to rest on his chest as he looked around to assess the situation.

He spotted the couple that had interrupted them, and frowned at them with clear irritation. He muttered “Cockblockers,” under his breath then froze, hoping she didn’t catch it. He turned back to her, and when she didn’t comment on it he asked, “Now, where were we?”

Before she could respond and stop him, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Her arms slid up his chest and around his neck to stroke the short hair there. Taking advantage of the empty space, he pressed his body more firmly against hers. His erection ground into her hip and his thigh lifted slightly to press between her legs. Her breath caught against his lips, and he pulled slightly away. He had been right: she was just as affected as he was.

“So it’s like that for you too, huh?” He smiled slightly before lowering his mouth to hers and
really
kissing her. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and nipped it with his teeth. When her breath caught again, he rubbed gently with his tongue to soothe the slight sting. He pressed his tongue between her lips, probing before tugging on her jaw to urge her mouth open. She complied, and when his tongue surged into her mouth to tangle with hers, all coherent thought left his brain. She tasted like summer. That was the only way he could describe it. She tasted like heat and flowers and sun and sex on the beach and ice cream and…fucking A, a million other things that made his head spin. His lips and tongue caressed her mouth for long, countless minutes, until he finally had to pull away. His dick was threatening to rip the seams of his trunks, and this was
not
the place to do this. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

“We have an audience,” he whispered, and then he gave her another kiss, this one slow and easy.

Her eyes widened with embarrassment, and she jerked away as she realized she’d almost made it to second base with a man in her best friend’s swimming pool with at least twenty people watching. He gauged her response, ready to put her at ease. No one had seen. His shoulders blocked her completely from view. Her cheeks turned pink anyway, and she struggled to break free of his arms. Chris let her go reluctantly, but kept his hands on her hips as she made her way to the ladder just a few feet away. Callie jerked herself out of the water and ran to the other side of the pool to find her cover. It was still balled up, resting on the concrete where he’d thrown it. He watched her jerk it over her head and dart quickly inside.

He waited for only a split second before launching himself out of the pool and going after her.

Holy shit, she’s moving fast.

She almost made it. Callie darted through the house and out the front door before he could so much as grab a towel. She’d made it to the car and had her hand on the door handle, well on her way to a spectacular getaway, when he caught up and covered her hand with his. She froze, and he turned her around to press her back against the car, praying she wasn’t opposed to the caveman approach. He had to stop her though, and gentle movements weren’t going to keep her from running away.

He was barefoot and dripping, but then, so was she. The stupid little shirt that she was using to hide couldn’t possibly get any wetter.

“Where are you going?” he asked, cupping her cheek in his palm. He was trying to be gentle; he really was. But he was afraid it was beyond him at this moment.

“Home,” she replied shakily. She gestured toward the house and said, “I just don’t…I mean…everyone saw me kiss you, and…”

He chuckled. “Baby, everyone saw
me
kiss
you
, and then they saw you run away like the devil was at your heels.” He brushed his thumb across her lush, full lower lip and said, “No one could see.”

She remained silent, her embarrassment obvious in the pinkness of her cheeks.

“That kiss was just for me and you. No one else. Listen.” He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, hoping to calm her down and reassure her. “We moved a little fast back there. How about we grab some dinner and play Twenty Questions. You can ask me anything you want, and I promise I’ll tell the truth. As long as you promise the same. We’ll exchange phone numbers, I’ll send you some provocative text messages later, and we’ll see if we want to have dinner again. Or maybe a movie. Or a picnic. Or all three. Whatever you want.”

She finally looked up at him and opened her mouth to respond and then closed it. His heart pounded, and he pushed a little harder.

“How’s a movie?” he offered. “We can see a movie.” He grinned at her, hoping he looked more like the good hunter than the big bad wolf. “I’ll even let you pick.”

She took a deep, shaky breath, closed her eyes and whispered something he didn’t catch before saying, “Okay. Dinner and a movie.” Before he could respond, she held a hand up and said, “But I have to shower and change.” She looked at her watch and said, “It’s only four thirty, but I can be ready in an hour.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and said, “Great. Me too. Give me your address, and I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

Callie looked accusingly at the clock on her nightstand. It was eight after five and she was showered, shaved, lotioned, and still naked. There was not one thing in her closet that screamed “date with a Greek god.” She pulled a lock of hair in frustration and stared at the offending strand in horror. She still had to dry her hair! She snatched her cell phone from her dresser, ripping the charger out in the process, and dialed Rebecca’s number. Rebecca was also a teacher and a good friend, but unlike Sara, Rebecca was about Callie’s size. Rebecca was a redhead, and forever concerned with her appearance. None of this would have been enough for Callie to call, however, if Rebecca didn’t share the other half of her duplex. Callie was fairly certain she was home because her car was in the driveway, and she’d adamantly refused to go to Sara’s pool party because her ex-husband was going to be there. She wouldn’t skip the wedding, but she’d insisted that the temptation to drown her cheating ex would simply be too great.

“Tell me he drowned.” Rebecca’s brusque voice startled a laugh from Callie.

“No, actually, he didn’t even show up.”

“Figures. He was probably out banging that blonde bimbo. I hope he gets crotch rot,” Rebecca ground out viciously.

Callie laughed again and said, “I’m sure he’s already got it. Listen, I kind of…met someone. You know, at the party. And I have a date.”

Rebecca squealed in excitement. “Oh my God! That’s fantastic! When’s your date?”

Callie sighed. “In about twenty minutes. And I have nothing to wear.”