Going All In (14 page)

“How do you feel about Hamburger Helper?”

Confusion had her giggling nervously. “What?”

His gaze held hers for a little longer than the conversation seemed to warrant, but then he shook his head and muttered, “Never mind,” before returning his attention to Tyler, who’d jumped back to the subject of diving.

“Don’t knock it ’til you try it. Diving can be the most fun you’ve ever had.”

Wade snorted and muttered, “Not even close, baby. Don’t believe that bullshit for a second.” He cut his gaze to the side and looked at her through hooded lids. “He’s obviously doing something wrong.”

Callie struggled to breathe as she latched onto Wade’s deep, penetrating gaze, and her mind filled with images of all the things he would do right.

“Hey, you two listening?” Tyler’s voice broke the magical spell spiraling around them, forcing them to break eye contact and return their attention to him. Mischief lit his face and his eyes brightened. “I’m trying to convince Callie to go diving with us.”

She wanted to return to the previous moment and the intense connection drawing her and Wade closer together, but she did her best to stay focused on Tyler as he told her about the shipwrecks he’d been in, the sharks he’d seen, as well as other marine life, and something about a cool reef. It was all a lot of white noise humming in her brain, but she’d succeeded in thwarting the argument between him and Wade, so as he enthusiastically shared his stories, she nodded and smiled and drained the last of Wade’s beer.

Matt tossed Wade another, which he handed off to her as Tyler handed him a mason jar filled a quarter of the way full with an amber liquid. Wade, working on autopilot, took the jar without much thought. A few minutes later, seemingly realizing for the first time what he held, he shook his head and handed the jar back to Tyler—who’d finally stopped talking long enough to take a breath.

When Tyler didn’t take the jar from Wade’s hand, Wade said, “No way. I’m not drinking that shit tonight. I have to drive, we have to be home early for work tomorrow, and my sleeping bag is still drying over the line at home.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s barely a swallow.”

Wade dropped his chin and looked at Tyler from the tops of his eyes. “A swallow is all it takes.”

“What is it?”

Callie leaned forward for a better look, but before she got too close, Wade stretched his arm all the way out to the side, keeping the jar away from her like the liquid was a poison he feared. “Nothing good.”

“What? It’s great.” Alex grinned at Callie. “It’s apple pie wine.”

Wade barked out a laugh. “And you’re a liar. That is
not
wine.”

Alex drank from an identical jar and licked his lips. “I’m not lying about it being good, though.”

Giving up the argument, Wade continued to hold the jar but didn’t take a drink, nor did he ask for his beer back.

As conversation between the friends resumed, she settled back down and became absorbed by the environment. The campfire flames performed a hypnotic dance, and the fire crackled and popped, sending bits and pieces of ash into the night sky, like confetti flying upward instead of falling.

She looked to the sky, expecting a similar view to the one she had at home, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. She gasped in awe at the massive canopy twinkling over their heads. She wasn’t often away from the city’s orange glow and she’d never paid attention to the sky when she was. How could that view have been there all along and she never noticed?

A gust of cold air swept through the camp, sending her closer to Wade and his body heat.

“Are you cold, baby?” His mellow gaze was that of a man carrying a feel-good buzz, except he’d only had half a beer. The stress lines he often wore around his eyes were gone, and even though he showed concern for her, he appeared as relaxed as a person could be. He was as comfortable around this fire and took as much pleasure from being outside in nature as she did sitting at home with her blender and the television remote.

“I was, but I’m okay now.” She wiggled and gave him what she hoped came off as an impish grin. “It’s a good excuse to get closer to you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted and his lids relaxed even more as his arm constricted and pulled her tightly against him. “Yo, Matt, throw me that blanket next to you.”

The blanket was transferred from person to person, and when it reached them, Wade switched the mason jar to the hand wrapped around her so he could use the other to spread the blanket over them.

“No misbehaving under the covers,” Alex said. “It’s not fair to the rest of us lonely sons of bitches.”

“Hey, I had you hooked up with our waitress last night. Not my fault you couldn’t close the deal.”

Alex muttered under his breath and the other guys added their opinions to the matter, while Callie snuggled in under the wool blanket.

Even though she didn’t want to think about it, she wondered where they’d been and if Wade had closed the deal with anyone. Before jealousy devoured her, she shut off the flow of unproductive thoughts and refocused on the here and now. She was the one cradled in Wade’s arms right now, and she’d be the one he took home.

But what did that mean?

She knew he was attracted to her—that was obvious, even to someone with limited experience—but something kept holding him back. He wasn’t willing to move beyond spontaneous kisses and flirtatious banter, and she suspected if things were to progress, she’d have to be the one who got them there.

Not a good scenario for someone clueless in the art of seduction.

The weight of the heavy wool pressing down on her made her more consciously aware of the delicious heat and solid mass of Wade’s compact body beneath her. After having been seated for so long, she’d grown accustomed to his hard ridges and was somewhat numb, so she wiggled around to wake up the nerve endings.

In response, he stiffened and shot her a dark look she assumed he intended as a warning to stop.

Funny thing about a warning like that. Rather than taking it as a sign to back off, her feminine instincts kicked and rejoiced in awareness of the power she held. Testing the theory and her newfound wiles, she wiggled again, slow and purposeful.

A spike in tension tightened his muscles and his breathing grew ragged as he cut his eyes to the side and gave her an even darker, more heated look. This one didn’t seem to be saying she should stop but instead warned her of the trouble she’d be in if she didn’t.

God, she wanted to suffer for the sin of pushing him too far.

Her gaze settled on the forgotten jar still dangling from his fingertips. In order to keep driving forward enough to break through his barriers, she’d need to be bolder and more aggressive than her nature would allow. She needed to lower her inhibitions, and the only way that would happen was with a few drinks.

Based on Wade’s reaction, the contents of the jar must be stronger than beer or wine, so even though there was only a small amount, it might be enough to give her the courage she needed. He’d made it clear he didn’t want her anywhere near the stuff, so without giving him the opportunity to deny her again, she slipped her arm free of the blanket and snatched the jar from his hand.

“Whoa,” he said, making an unsuccessful attempt to take it back as she stole his move and held her hand to the side, out of his reach. “What are you doing?”

“I’m well beyond the legal drinking age,” she said, sounding way too prim and proper for someone haranguing over a mason jar filled with what was probably moonshine.

He grinned and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Yeah, well, that stuff’s not legal.”

She hesitated, wondering if she should heed his warning, but dammit, the new Callie wanted spice and adventure. She wanted to be brave and seduce Wade, but years of conditioning wouldn’t allow it without something to loosen her up. Without further thought, for fear of chickening out, she leaned to the side out of Wade’s reach, put the jar to her lips, and took a healthy gulp.

Liquid fire ran down her throat, stripping away the protective lining in the process. Her eyes, throat, and stomach burned like a tree that had been struck by lightning. Her insides splintered and shredded and she expected flames to shoot out of her mouth or butt or both at any second. She coughed and sputtered, which sent the flames up the back of her mouth and out her nose like a fire-breathing dragon. An infection wouldn’t dare touch her sinuses for six months—if she had any sinus cavities left—and the rest of her body would never be the same.

She gasped for air and handed the mostly empty jar to Wade as he patted her back like a parent trying to help a choking child. Her eyes watered so badly she struggled to see, but she thought one of guys grabbed a fire extinguisher while the other grabbed a bottle of water.

Once the coughing slowed, Wade gently asked, “You okay?” His lips twitched and she knew he wanted to laugh, but he held it at bay, saving her further humiliation. At least for the moment. Later, she’d be the butt of their uproarious laughter, probably for years to come.

She nodded but failed to maintain eye contact. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve listened.” She tried to laugh it off, but on the inside, she wanted to run for the safety of his truck. Of course, by the time she got there, the full effects of the lethal cocktail would hit and she’d fall flat on her face, thereby doubling her trouble.

A bottle of water and a red Gatorade—that she’d mistaken for a fire extinguisher—appeared in her line of sight. Still unable to make eye contact with anyone, she smiled weakly and took both of the bottles. “Thanks.” She downed the water first, then went to work on the Gatorade.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Wade said. “It helps to start off slow and easy.”

She harrumphed. “I’ll have to take you at your word.”

The hand running slow circles over her back crawled up to her neck. He twisted his fingers around the hair at her nape, then gently tugged, encouraging her to tip her head back to look at him. Her lingering embarrassment faded as she watched him take a sip from the jar, then slowly lower his mouth to hers.

Without hesitation, she opened to him as his lips pressed against hers. His tongue made a slow, languorous sweep of the inside of her mouth, allowing the liquid to spill into her mouth and seep down her throat. She prepared herself for the hellfire and damnation, but the small amount didn’t burn at all. This time, she actually tasted sweet apples rather than gasoline—or what she suspected gasoline would taste like—and she could understand a little better why they drank the stuff.

Wade, however, was far more potent and overwhelming than the moonshine, and as he continued to deepen the kiss and sweep his tongue across hers in a slow, leisurely fashion, she melted from the inside out. The moonshine created a flash fire, capable of destroying her. This was a slow, simmering heat that drew her in and left her desperate for more. She sighed and relaxed so deeply she would’ve slipped off his lap if he hadn’t been holding on to her.

His kiss had been filled with more passion and care than any of her previous lovers had shown during the pinnacle of sex, and she was hooked.

“Better?” he asked, his voice deeper and huskier than normal.

“Infinitely.” She imagined her eyes were glassy orbs as she tried to open her weighted lids to focus on him. She rolled her head to the side, wondering if his friends were staring at the show she and Wade were putting on, but all she found was the roaring fire. “Where’d everyone go?”

“They left a few minutes ago. I think they were afraid you’d throw up, and they wanted to give you privacy. If it’d been me, they’d have had their phones out, taking video for YouTube. They must really like you.”

Warmth and pleasure at having been so easily accepted by his friends filled her, but she’d had enough of them for one night. She wanted to be alone with Wade for a while, and she prayed this relaxed feeling stuck with her long enough to get home so she could make her move. She pressed her hand to the side of his face, holding his gaze steady, and asked, “Will you take me home now?”

O
n the ride home, Callie grew more and more lethargic as the moonshine’s dizzying buzz dissolved into a warm hum in her chest and belly, and her arms and legs turned into lead weights. Jen’s car was still in the parking lot, and Callie was sure the throaty rumble of Wade’s truck sounded like an alarm in Tiffany’s condo, but she didn’t care if they watched or not. It would require more energy than she could produce to climb down from the seat, and she didn’t even pretend to want to get down by herself as Wade opened the door. She twisted in her seat, rested her hands his shoulders, and enjoyed being in his arms for the second it took her feet to hit the ground.

As they crossed the parking lot and began climbing the steps, her fatigue was crushed by a wave of sexual desire and nervous anticipation. By the time she reached the door, she was dizzy with excitement and her hand trembled so badly she couldn’t get her key into the lock.

After several failed attempts, Wade took matters into his own hands. Literally. He stepped up behind her, pressed his front to her back, and wrapped his fingers over hers. The contact was so delicious she forgot all about the lock. Nothing mattered except leaning back against him to gain more contact, and a deep moan escaped her throat as Wade’s heat and essence wrapped around her like a set of strong, steady arms. She still felt some lingering effects of the moonshine, but the alcohol was nothing compared to the intoxicating effects of Wade’s body pressed against hers.