Pick Me (17 page)

“We’ll figure it out, Pete. I promise you.”

“I can help.”

“What—from San Francisco?”

Calder said it before he could think about it—the words somehow effortless, the instinct to say them natural. As grateful as he was for the offer, as exciting and sexy as life would be in San Francisco, it couldn’t change one simple fact: his heart was here.

“I’m not taking the job, Pete.”

Pete looked back at him, confusion knotting his dirt-creased brow. “But you’re already out there.”

“Temporarily,” Calder said. “It’s a trial period. For me as much as for them.”

“That’s crazy, Call. You don’t have to do that.”

“What’s crazy is me being all the way out there when you need help here. You were right. I say I put my family first, but I’m not sure I really ever did. I want to do that now. In a real way. I want to stick around.”

Pete shook his head. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been blaming you. Being an all-around jerk…” He glanced over at Calder, a small smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “This is the part where you tell me I haven’t been that bad.”

“No way.” Calder chuckled, swallowing tears of his own. “This is the part where I tell you to shut the hell up so we can go get those berries ready for tomorrow.”

* * *

Connie was the first to get dropped off, eager to get ready for her date with Jay later that night at McCrady’s. It had been a short and remarkably quiet ride from the farm, mostly due to their combined fatigue after nearly four hours on their knees picking, then on their feet hauling heavy flats of strawberries. But as soon as Willa had steered them over the bridge toward Charleston, Thea could feel her sister’s expectant gaze dart her way.

“You didn’t tell him that you turned Dennis down, did you?”

Thea let her head fall back against the seat and sighed. “What would have been the point? He’s all the way across the country now. I had my chance and I blew it.”

“Thee, you should at least tell him how you feel.”

“He’s in San Francisco, Will. How’s that going to work?”

“I’m not saying it will be a walk in the park, but people make long-distance relationships work.”

“Listen to you…” Thea rolled her head toward Willa and smiled, marveling at her sister. “When did you get to be such a hopeless romantic?”

“When I stopped being such a pain in the ass about love.”

Thea laughed as Willa pulled them in front of Thea’s townhouse. Thea leaned over and gave Willa a grateful hug. God, where would she be without her sisters?

“Call him,” Willa ordered as Thea climbed out. “Call him or I’m kicking you out of our book club.”

Thea smiled. “Try it and Peach’ll have your head.”

Chapter Sixteen

Thea
wasn’t sure how long she lay in the tub after Willa dropped her off, only that in the time between when she first submerged herself under the silky bubbles until the time she climbed out of the clear, lukewarm water, her glass of white wine was drained, a pound bag of peanut M&Ms was emptied, and the sky had turned from bright blue to a dusky pink.

As she dressed and moved around the townhouse, she tried not to think about seeing Calder, or how easily they’d picked up where they’d left off. The nagging cramp in her ankle didn’t help. It seemed that with every step she was reminded of how much fun they’d had in that field, how quickly they’d resumed their sexy exchanges, the air between them charged with the same heat and affection they’d enjoyed months earlier –months since Willa and Connie had welcomed her to the condo with wine and munchies, and they’d all sat around discussing the mysterious Calder Frye, and she never knowing how close she would get to him.

“This hot guy steals you away on his motorcycle and you don’t even kiss him?”

“I think the defendant pleads insanity.”

“Okay, yes, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t top my Life list of regrets…”

Thea shook her head. Had she really let Calder Frye get away a second time?

The realization too much to bear, she poured herself a fresh glass of wine and took it out to the patio, determined not to add a squandered sunset to her growing lists of regrets. The breeze was warm and soft, fluttering the knit of her nightshirt as she took one of the wicker seats and tucked her bare feet under her.

Calder Frye.

And those eyes she had wanted to sink into like a bubble bath.

And that mouth that had swept over her like a sea wind, changing with the seasons, sultry and hot one minute, cool enough to send gooseflesh prickling across every inch of skin the next.

And that smile, at turns wild and warm, that told her to climb on and hold tight.

The doorbell chimed. Probably just Willa coming by to harass her further for not telling Calder she and Dennis were through, Thea thought as she rose and walked back inside.

But when she opened the door, she sucked in a startled breath. Calder stood there, holding a pint of strawberries and wearing a sheepish smile.

“My dad suggested I bring a whole flat but I told him I thought that might be a little much. Then again, it
did
work for him.”

Thea smiled. “So I heard.”

“I saw the moon and decided it was a great night for a ride. I got your address from Willa.” He glanced behind her into the house. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Not at all.” She stepped back. “Want to come in? I’ve got some wine open.”

As soon as she said it, Thea felt the heat of their history sizzle up her neck and stain her cheeks. His knowing smile certainly didn’t help.

“As long as it’s already open, we’re probably safe,” he said.

She turned before he could see what his words had done to her, sending shivers of excitement up and down her limbs with his comment. Even her breasts, loose without a bra, seemed suddenly swollen, the tips painfully sensitive brushing against her nightshirt as she walked in to the kitchen. She could feel him behind her, wondering if his gaze was on the interior or her posterior—she knew the hem of her nightshirt barely covered her rear.

“Is white okay?” she asked, reaching up to draw down a glass then changing her mind when she realized the motion exposed more moon than the one he’d marveled at on her porch minutes earlier. She took a goblet from the dish drainer instead and filled it.

Calder tapped his glass against hers. “To good friends,” he said.

Is that what they were now? Just good friends? Disappointment fluttered but Thea hid it behind a sip. What did she expect? Calder didn’t know that she’d turned down Dennis’ proposal—and even if he did, would he think they had a chance with him moving permanently to San Francisco?

Objection, your Honor. Counsel is calling for speculation.

They took their glasses to the living room and sat down on the couch. Thea considered her wine as she gently swirled the honey-colored liquid, thinking the pool of Chardonnay was a safer study than the turquoise pools of his eyes. “You’ll probably be heading back to San Francisco tomorrow, huh?” She kept her eyes lowered, afraid the disappointment she was trying desperately to hide was flickering traitorously somewhere on her face.

“Only to get my stuff.”

Thea looked up at that. She stared at him. “I—I don’t understand.”

“I decided not to accept the position after all.”

“You did?” So much for veiled emotions. Her heart flip-flopped with unbidden excitement. She suspected she beamed brighter than the stars he’d just marveled at. “But I thought it was a dream job?”

“It was.” He smiled. “There’ll be others.”

“Does Pete know?”

“He does now. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, my brother was right. I’ve got quite a history of picking up and running off when things get tough. It’s time I stay put and take care of my own family.”

“It sounds like we’ve both had epiphanies lately.” She waited for him to guess, but when his expression remained uncertain, she lifted her left hand and wiggled her bare ring finger. “You might say I turned down the job, too.”

“Marie noticed you weren’t wearing your ring. I assumed you didn’t want to wear it picking.”

“More like, I didn’t pick Dennis.” She shrugged. “He wasn’t a good fit. It took me a while to see that.”

“How did he take it?”

“I think he knows I’m right—even if he won’t admit it.”

She reached for her glass, her feet still tucked under her, but just as she did, her foot seized up with a cramp. She winced and grabbed her foot.

Calder came closer. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Thea waved her other hand, still cradling her cramped foot. “My feet are just a little sore from picking today. I wasn’t wearing good shoes. Really, I’m fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He held out his hands and ordered, “Okay, let’s see it.”

Before she could protest—not that she would have—he swept up her left foot and settled it in the bowl of his wide palms. His thumbs pressed hard into her arch, making her clenched toes unfurl like petals.

She gripped the cushions and moaned. “God, where did you learn to do that?”

“First year of med school,” he said, cupping her heel and kneading roughly. “Why do you think podiatrists get laid so much?”

She looked up to find him wearing that same grin she’d been missing like crazy lately. The one that promised heat and adventure, warmth and security. She didn’t know how it was possible one smile could say so much.

His thumbs rubbed deeper into her sole, turning her whole body into rubber. She slid back against the cushion, uncaring that the hem of her nightshirt was riding dangerously high, or that her breasts were practically pointing at him. If he kept doing this to her feet, she might not need him to touch her anywhere else. She could come right here.

He lowered her left foot, not to the floor, but to a spot between his legs. So close, in fact, to his crotch, that Thea suspected if she stretched her big toe, she could graze his fly.

He took up her other foot and once again, she melted into the couch, her limbs like strings of licorice. He could have wound her into a pretzel and she wouldn’t have felt anything but ecstatic.

“Still sore?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “If I say no, do you promise not to stop?”

“Are you kidding? I’m just getting started...” He leaned forward, bending her leg gently, enough that he could work his hands up her calf, his fingers climbing higher, his eyes locked on hers and flashing. “I’ve heard the inner thighs tend to get especially tight after kneeling in the dirt for a long time.” His fingertips grazed the tender skin; she sucked in a breath.

His eyes never leaving hers, he continued to work his way up her thigh. She wanted to let her legs fall open then, to reveal herself to him and remove any obstacles keeping his hands—those incredible, healing hands—from reaching their destination. Dizzy with desire, she tipped her head back and watched the ceiling spin. She tried to remember what underwear she’d put on then decided it didn’t matter. Whatever pair, she just wanted him to tear them off. Already she could feel the moist heat of her desire soaking the fabric where it caught between the folds of her core, cool against her most sensitive point when she moved to let the air at it. His fingers brushed against the wet ridge.

“How about here?” he asked. “Any soreness?”

This time, it was just the pad of his thumb tracing the ridge, slowing at the budded top to work even circles over it. A sound escaped her throat, pleading and raspy and utterly unrecognizable as hers. God, what was he doing to her? He spread her legs and drew the damp fabric of her panties to the side. She arched her back, nothing between his touch and her body now. Then, just when she was sure he would work her into a frenzy all over again, he leaned over and lowered his mouth over hers, slowing just before reaching her lips to whisper huskily,

“A case this bad calls for advanced treatment. Ever had a full body massage?”

“If I say no, does that get you inside me sooner?”

He grinned. “It’s not a trick question, Counselor.” Proving it, he lowered his mouth to hers, and her body rose to meet his lips, then his tongue as he parted her teeth and tangled her tongue with his, his grip on her tightening as he explored deeper. She wound her arms around him, her fingers sliding naturally into the damp waves of hair that hugged his neck.

She didn’t care where they went, only that he didn’t take his mouth, his hands, off her body.

But even in the haze of lust, pragmatism pushed through. Between ragged breaths, she whispered, “In the bedroom…I have some…”

“Good.” His hands came around her so swiftly, she wasn’t even aware he’d lifted her onto his lap until she felt the gust of air when he stood, taking her with him, her legs locked around his waist.

Their faces inches apart, she directed him up the stairs and down the hall to the correct door which he managed to open without lowering her, then pushed open with his knee. As he set her on the bed and followed her down, she arched her body to keep her lips attached to his, not wanting to be released from the heat of his mouth. But he had other plans. Taking her wrists, he raised her hands over her head and held them there as he burned a path down her neck with his mouth, his teeth, his tongue, slowing when he came to the hard points of her breasts that strained against the knit of her nightshirt to take teasing bites of each one. She wriggled beneath him, begging him to undress her so that she could feel his mouth directly on her skin, but he just quieted her with a fierce kiss. “I wasn’t kidding when I said we’d waited fourteen years,” he murmured before diving back down. “What’s a few more minutes?”