Intimate (15 page)

She couldn’t
help but laugh.

They sat gazing
at each other in happy stupidity until their meals arrived. The server came and
set a dish in front of each of them and then hurried off to see to another
table.

They both
stared at the food in front of them. In Marissa’s plate were large helpings of
meatloaf and mashed potatoes. In Caleb’s, an enormous salad.

Which wasn’t
what either of them had ordered.

Caleb frowned irritably
and spent a couple of minutes getting their server’s attention again. The woman
apologized profusely and took the plates away, but then they had to wait
fifteen more minutes before their real orders arrived.

Caleb was
looking quite peeved with the whole situation when his steak and Marissa’s
salmon were brought over to them by the apologetic manager.

Swallowing a
forkful of salmon, Marissa tried not to giggle at his obvious annoyance.

The food was
actually quite tasty. But, by the times she was through with her meal, she felt
scorched from the blaze of the fire. It was ceaselessly blasting them with more
heat, and perspiration trickled down her neck under her hair. Random tendrils stuck
to her damp face, and her top felt glued to her skin.

Caleb appeared
to be suffering just as much. His face was flushed, and she could see sweat
beading on his forehead and the sides of his face.

He finally
glared at the crackling fireplace and burst out, “It feels like hell in here!
What possessed them to light a fire tonight?”

Marissa gave a
relieved giggle, glad to have this source of discomfort out in the open. “I’m
roasting. I’ve been sweating since we sat down.”

“Maybe this
wasn’t the best choice for dinner after all.”

“It’s fine,” she
assured him, something about his perturbed face making her feel even
flutterier. “The food was good. Once we got the right orders. No reason the
dining experience has to be perfect.”

Just then the
twin boys started screaming again. One had a large glass of ice tea in his
hands, which was slopping down the rim as he ran. The other one was chasing his
brother, brandishing a soup ladle like a sword.

“What do you
want to bet that drink ends up in somebody’s lap?” Caleb murmured dryly.

“No bet.” She
watched, highly diverted by the boys’ antics. They barely missed tripping up a
waiter balancing five different plates. “I wonder what he's pretending the
drink is.”

She glanced
over at Caleb’s face and got a little mushy at his expression as he watched the
boys.

As soon as he
looked back over at her, she quickly hid her tender regard. Caleb opened his
mouth to say something—probably insist that children were a pain in the ass—but
he never got the words out.

There was
another scream from one of the boys, but this time it was from much closer to their
table. When they turned toward the sound, it was too late to react.

The boy crashed
right into Caleb’s chair.

The large glass
of ice tea emptied in Caleb’s lap.

He leapt out of
his chair with a reflexive roar of shock and discomfort. His pants were soaking
wet to his knees, and the lower half of his shirt was too.

He glared down
at the culprit in outrage.

The little boy
cowered, whimpering and then starting to cry. “I’m sorry,” he babbled, leaning
over to pick up the empty glass, as if that was going to fix his dilemma.

Caleb’s face
had been indignant, but it immediately softened at the boy’s obvious fear. “No problem.
I needed to cool down anyway.”

The little
fellow bawled all the way back to his mother.

Marissa tried not
to laugh. She really did. But Caleb’s face was just too funny, and he was
holding out his wet hands in disgust.

“It’s not
funny,” he complained. “Look at me. That kid just spilled a whole damn drink on
my lap.”

“I know. You should
have seen your face when you jumped up.”

He sneered and
tried to look dignified, which was quite a feat under these circumstances.

The manager
came running over to see if there was anything he could do to help.

Caleb just
handed the man his credit card and didn’t bother to sit down again. “At least
it cooled me off a little,” he muttered, staring resentfully at the fire. “So
now only my face is scorching. The rest of me is wet.”

This was Marissa’s
complete undoing. She howled with laughter and couldn’t stop until Caleb had
signed the receipt and they’d left.

It was very
pleasant along the river, and Caleb suggested they take a little walk before
they got back in the car. “Give my pants some time to dry.”

There wasn’t
much around once they got past the restaurant and the few surrounding shops, so
it soon felt like they were alone in the world. They didn’t talk much. And
didn’t touch. Just strolled quietly, wrapped up in their own thoughts.

Marissa enjoyed
the peace and thought about how nice it was that she and Caleb knew each other
so well that they didn’t have to talk all the time.

It was a fairly
warm night, but it was completely overcast. So no moon. No stars. And only dim
light to see Caleb’s face beside her.

“Thanks for
dinner,” she said eventually, wanting to hear his voice again.

“Some dinner.
I’m sorry it wasn’t that great.”

“It was fine. I
enjoyed it.” She
had
enjoyed it. Far more than she’d expected.

“I would have
preferred our first date to have made a better impression.”

“It wasn’t
supposed to be cheesy and romantic, remember? We’re not talking about
sentimental perfection here.” Marissa moved closer to him so that her arm
brushed against his. “It was better this way.”

“How exactly is
this better?” His voice still sounded slightly grouchy.

She reached out
and pulled the wet lower half of his shirt away from his skin so it wouldn’t
stick quite so much. She was a little embarrassed by her feelings, but she
wanted to be honest with him, since he was being so honest with her.

So she said,
“Well, if you must know, everything that’s happened tonight has made me feel
even more warm and fuzzy about you.” She stared at his chest so she wouldn’t
have to look up at his face while she spoke.

Warm and fuzzy
didn’t do her feelings justice. She wanted to hug him. Rub against him. Melt
into him somehow so they could be as close as possible.

His voice was
astounded. “Seriously?”

“And I know I
wouldn’t have felt that way if we’d had a picture-perfect first date.” She
finally found the courage to look up at him, and she lost her breath at the
expression in his eyes.

Reaching out to
take her face in his hands, Caleb caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. “Just
how warm and fuzzy are you feeling?”

Very, very warm
and fuzzy. He was so handsome, so dear, so familiar, so sweet beneath his cool
exterior. “Very,” she whispered, her belly tightening.

He leaned down
toward her just slightly.

Marissa
instinctively leaned up into him.

His face was
intense, irresistible, and his eyes were like soft, flashing pools in the dim
light.

For the first
time in her life, Marissa wanted him to kiss her.

She was pretty
sure he would have, too. Had it not started raining.

It started as a
pleasant sprinkle of cooling raindrops. Then the clouds burst.

They both
jumped in surprise and automatically started to run toward the car, but the car
was at least a half a mile away, and after thirty seconds they both were
drenched.

The heel of Marissa’s
shoe turned, and she jerked to a stop. “Caleb,” she called. “Forget it. Why
run? We’re already soaked.”

“Damn it,” he
grumbled, shaking himself off like a wet dog and coming over to stand beside
her. “Why can’t anything go smoothly tonight?”

His clothes
were plastered to his skin, and water poured down his face and stuck his hair
to his skin.

He looked
absolutely adorable.

“Well, at least
you don’t have to worry about having ice tea spilled on your pants anymore.”
She lifted her foot to check on her heel.

“Did you hurt
yourself?” he asked, his voice changing as she fiddled with her ankle.

“No. These just
aren’t ideal shoes to run in. How about we walk the rest of the way to the
car?”

“Agreed.” They
started back more slowly, sloshing in the puddles, water pounding down on their
heads. His hand moved to her back in a supportive gesture that Marissa found
surprisingly reassuring.

They didn’t
talk much and eventually reached his parked car. “I don’t suppose you have any
towels in your trunk,” she said, looking at the posh interior with a cringe.

He shook his
head glumly, water spraying off his face as he did. “The entire evening is
turning out to be a disaster.”

He appeared so
sincerely annoyed that Marissa reached for his wet shirt and pulled him closer
to her. “I thought we covered this before. I liked this evening, rain and all.”

“Only
you
would like an evening that could be classified as nothing short of a catastrophe.”

“Then it’s a
good thing you’re with me and not anyone else.”

He laughed, and
somehow his hands ended up on her face again. He carefully pushed her wet hair away
from her cheeks and eyes, and then kept smoothing it back, as if he couldn’t
stop.

Marissa tried
to see his face clearly, but the raindrops kept getting in her eyes. So she had
to keep blinking them away. Figured she looked like an idiot.

“God, you’re so
beautiful, Marissa,” he breathed, looking at her drenched face with something
like awe.

Still clutching
at his shirt, she gulped, but made herself say flippantly, “Now I know you’re
lying to me. I look like a wet mop.”

He shook his
head and caressed her wet cheeks, his thumb gliding over her lips. “How did I
go years without seeing it?”

Part of Marissa
wanted to pull away, protect herself from his deep gaze, his tender touch. But
the other part of her wanted to get even closer to him, wanted to hear him talk
that way to her—see him look at her like that—all night. And longer. Never
wanted him to stop.

She found
herself leaning into him, and, when he tilted up her face, she was convinced
that she was going to get the kiss that had been interrupted earlier.

But then he let
go of her face abruptly, his expression suddenly tense.

She made a
little noise in response—of surprise and disappointment. She hadn’t quite lost
her wits, though, so she managed to make a joke. “Is there something you’d like
to tell me about why you always find me most attractive when I’m wet?”

He chuckled,
and they got into the car, soaking the seats completely. It was an
uncomfortable ride back, and they didn’t talk much. So Marissa used the time to
figure out why Caleb had pulled back. Why he hadn’t kissed her.

When they
reached her apartment again, she’d figured it out.

He was trying
so hard to be good. Trying to be a gentleman. To take things slowly as she’d
requested. He’d obviously wanted to kiss her back by the river—twice. But he
was afraid of moving too fast and scaring her off.

It was sweet, but
he just didn’t understand.

Sex was the
issue with her. Not kissing. Kissing wasn’t like sex at all.

And she wanted
to kiss Caleb. Wanted to be close to him in that way. Wanted the intimate connection
that could only come from a kiss.

So she made up
her mind as they walked down the hall to her door. Hoped she would find the
courage to follow through with it.

“Do you want to
come in?” she asked as she pulled out her keys.

“I better not.
You’re looking far too irresistible in those wet clothes. I know we’re going
slow, but there’s no use in torturing myself.”

She glanced
down at her body and swallowed hard as she saw the lines of her breasts and the
firm peaks of her nipples clearly visible through the thin, wet material. Her
skirt was glued to her thighs, no longer masking the curves of her hips.

She was so
distracted by this that they had said goodbye before she recovered her
momentum. Caleb had actually turned around and taken a step back down the hall.

Afraid she was
going to miss her chance, she said, “Caleb!”

When he turned
back, she stepped over and grabbed his head between her hands. Hauled his face
down and claimed his lips.

She was immensely
relieved when he returned the kiss immediately. She wasn’t sure how she would
have managed if she’d had to make the kiss work on her own, after being out of
practice for so long.

His lips moved
against hers gently at first, until Marissa slipped her tongue out and traced
the line of his mouth. He released a soft groan and slid one hand down to her
hips. The fingers of his other hand tangled into her wet hair.

And Marissa
felt like she was going to either melt or burst open. Or both. She clutched at
his head, and her tongue somehow ended up in his mouth. It glided over his
teeth and the roof of his mouth, then tangled with his tongue. As the
sensations rushed over her, she forgot everything except Caleb—his mouth, his
hands, his body, which was hard and warm despite his wet clothes.

She pressed her
body up against his, wanting to feel all of him against her. Unfortunately,
that meant she was able to feel how aroused he’d become from their embrace.

She had one
brief moment of panic as she pushed into it, but she managed not to totally
freak out. She eased away from his pelvis slightly, but she didn’t let go of
his head.

Breathing deeply,
he pulled his mouth away but left his forehead resting against hers. “Okay?” he
asked softly. His breath was warm on her skin.

“Yeah.” She
pressed another soft kiss on his lips, then found herself smiling against his
mouth. “That was a nice kiss.” She couldn't help but snicker at the irony of
the situation.