Secondhand secrets, p.8
Secondhand Secrets, page 8
Still, I’m here, aren’t I? I own this now.
She glanced back to him, a frown now dragging at those expressive lips of his, his narrowed focus bringing heat to her cheeks. Not a good sign, given his less-than-enthusiastic reception.
What did he see right now?
A famously desperate woman trying to get the attention of a man she’d already turned down?
“It’s hot out.” She swallowed the thickness coating the inside of her throat and gave a wobbly smile, vowing to dial down the desperation and revert to the charade of wanting to maintain nothing more than an old friendship. What a wimp. “I thought maybe you’d like to visit our old swimming spot at Mirabelle Falls.”
He cocked his head to one side, his eyes giving little away. Though his gaze flicked down her body again, his acknowledgement of her swimwear sent tingling ripples over her skin. “You want to swim?”
“Yeah, yah know, escape the heat for a while?”
Her jaw hurt from all the forced grinning, but she powered on, at least for the long and painful moment where he said nothing, only to let out a sigh and push away from the doorframe.
“I guess no more work was happening today anyway. Come on in. I’ll change and grab my towel.”
He turned and wandered away, his cool scent washing over her as she took a few timid steps into his home, still too rattled to enter the living room proper. “I brought a cooler full of food and drinks, and I’m driving.”
“Fine with me.” His muffled voice coupled with the thud of his footsteps somewhere farther down the hall.
She tried not to analyze every detail of his house which, in all honesty, hadn’t changed all that much since Sarah’s move, as if she’d taken little with her to Dean’s place. Within moments, Chip’s footsteps returned, and he strode into the living area wearing a loose T-shirt and swim shorts, a towel draped casually over his shoulder.
He held both hands out to his sides in a silent request for her approval, that silence weighing on her as she eyed his ruffled hair, all-too-easy demeanor, his mussed-up appearance evocative of how he’d looked awakening at her house only that morning.
“That should do.” She swallowed against the raspiness in her throat and spun around to lead the way out the door and to her car.
Each crunching step on the driveway’s gravel had her cursing her nerves in what should have been a simple exchange. Cursing Emilia for her stubborn-headed meddling. Cursing herself again for going along with this ridiculous plan.
He’s leaving. And I’ve already rejected him. What did I think would happen?
And sure, maybe Emilia had a point about not missing opportunities, but even captured opportunities had the potential to hurt those ass-backward enough to grasp for the near impossible.
Chip finished locking the front door and then jogged down the porch steps. Meanwhile, she wrenched her car door open and set about starting the engine. Within moments, he landed in the passenger seat, his face turned to her in her periphery, even though she pinned her focus ahead.
“Productive day?” She savored the pretense of being busy with reversing out, even as she dug her nails into the steering wheel’s hard leather, and her muscles felt all weak and jittery.
“Yeah. You could say that.” His warm tone ricocheted within her car’s small cabin.
She made no sign of noticing. “Oh, yeah? Care to talk about it?”
“I guess you could say I didn’t get much work done, but I’m somehow much further along than I expected.”
An uncontrolled laugh broke from her, but she focused on turning the car down a seldom used lane, Mirabelle Falls so much closer to his place than hers. “You rarely make any sense to me as it is, but that would have to be a super vague and confusing response even for you.”
His soft chuckle stoked the tingling over her skin again. “I had no idea I had that effect on you.”
She glanced over to him, quick to look away. He had to know he had some effect on her. That she’d been the one to ask for his kiss. That she’d approached him today. Chip sure had an innocence to him, but he wasn’t naive.
Her car drew nearer to what they’d once unimaginatively called their “secret hideout.” The hideout, not much more than a narrow bend of river covered by a multitude of weeping willows that provided a decent amount of privacy.
Not that she or Chip ever did anything requiring much privacy, but the spot had been a welcome break from houses filled with annoying siblings and parents. One of many places he’d read to her while she’d scribbled on one of her many notepads or splashed in the nearby water.
She guided her car to an area just big enough to fit between a cluster of pines, then cranked the brake, and took a moment to send an unhurried glance his way.
A steady flow of memories of him and this place made her less shy about holding eye contact. They’d had something special. And a simple smile from him now was enough to settle her mood on this whole outing.
So, she mirrored his light expression, and together, they set about gathering bags and towels and heading down the small hill to the river.
Maybe friendship would be all that happened here. Maybe this was her answer. Far be it from her to put in all the effort chasing him. She’d already done a ton of chasing with other men and learned her lesson. So maybe, what they had now was enough.
The river flowed full but calm, and the light breeze shifted willow tendrils in a tranquil dance of green, dappled light. So many years had passed since she’d last come here, her days in this spot ending when Chip left town. She hadn’t felt right coming here without him.
Now, he pulled the rolled picnic blanket out from under her arm, startling her from her daydream. She recovered enough to wait for him to lay down the red and white plaid blanket, then adjusted her towel on top.
“Right.” He pitched forth a broad grin and whipped off his navy-blue t-shirt. “I’m going in.”
All too fast, he turned away, practically running to greet the water. Meanwhile, her breath stuck in her throat at the vision of his tanned and toned torso—a reminder of yesterday morning and his seemingly sudden maturity and beauty.
Even as she squeezed her eyes shut and told herself to stop gawping, the tight sensation in her belly called her to race over and touch him. Instead, she settled on ripping her sheer wrap from around her waist and pretending his eventual astute stare on her semi-nakedness wouldn’t at all lead to more unnerving reactions from her body.
So, the quicker she got into the water, the quicker she could hide. Except the short stroll to Mirabelle’s banks revealed waters that inflicted a sharp iciness to her feet.
She scrambled back and wrapped her arms around her bare midriff, the air warm, but the water so frigid that she contemplated retreating to the blanket.
But the ache of cold toes faded when she lifted her gaze to the man in the river, Chip’s stare holding her with an intense focus that had his jaw set in a hard line.
Oh, that’s right, I’ve seen plenty of his body, but he hasn’t seen this much of mine.
She wanted to say a hot blush rose to her cheeks, that would have been easy compared to the gaping hollow opening up inside her. The one that questioned what he saw. She’d never been shy about her body. In the right weather, she wore short skirts and midriff baring tops with no second thoughts. Heck, she and Chip used to swim in this very spot in little more than their underwear.
But that was then, and this is now…
That thought pushed her attention from him and onto the river’s glittering surface, the water her overly crisp chance to hide from Chip Overton now being a man.
Don’t wimp out. Just get in the water and don’t wimp out.
Good idea. Be brave. One foot in. Then the other.
“Here, I’ll help you.”
She startled at him wading closer, his hand outstretched as though her two feet in the water wasn’t enough. Okay, it wasn’t enough. But still an achievement to her.
The sun illuminated the gold and emerald in his eyes and didn’t exactly make her want to step closer. Nor did the fullness at the center of his lips. Lips she’d kissed… and so wanted to again.
Still, her dragged-out pause probably made her appear no better than a stunned fish—not a look she aimed for here—so she extended a hand and accepted his help.
“I forgot to ask”—he peered back at her, not at all a distraction from the electricity traveling from his fingers to hers—“how was your day?”
She smiled and did her best to escape her uncharacteristic silence. “Emilia thinks she call sell more of my pottery, and Oak Tree was quiet, so Blaine let me go early.”
“Which is what brought you to my door at 3:30 on a Wednesday afternoon?” By now, the water reached her belly button, the cold still a bother, although the conversation helped. “Good luck with your sales, by the way, and thanks for dragging me out of the house. Now that I’m here, I missed this place more than most.”
For once, her nerves stilled, and she said nothing, more out of comfort than jitters. “Really?”
“Really.” His gaze held hers for a beat too long, and still, his smile grew. “I have some good memories here. Of the fun we used to have. And how sitting beneath the willows always felt like being inside a tent.”
“They always had a way of making me wonder what it would be like to have my own place.” She released an easy laugh. “Life seemed so hectic back then, but it was simpler, wasn’t it?”
“Some things were simpler.” His smile faded into a flatter line, and he pulled her along.
Right. Her life had been simpler. Her family a picture of stability while Chip’s and Sarah’s was a chaotic mess that ultimately left members scattered across the country. Gnawing shame had her peering down at her fingertips skimming the water’s glossy surface.
Sometimes I can be a total ignoramus.
“Ally?”
By now, the water covered her chest and had done so for a while. She lifted her gaze to him and his focus dancing about her face. Had she played a part in his past complexities? Well, the swirling in her belly said the tables had now turned.
But all he said was, “You’re not getting your hair wet?”
She laughed and shook her head. Since when had she become an over-thinker? “I’m still wearing my makeup from work and the drowned-rat look isn’t in this season.”
He gave a soft shrug. “It’s just me.”
She bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. Had he seen himself lately? But a simpler excuse would lead to less embarrassment. “I like to be presentable.”
He shook his head and sank backward into the water, letting go of her hand before he slipped under completely, only to soon rise in all his glistening glory.
No drowned vermin look for this guy.
“I still remember when a giggly and energetic Ally Egan would race me to the water just to be the first one in.” His smile grew, although not enough to drown the pang of something that alerted her to yet another role-reversal. This time, when it came to being self-conscious. “Remember that?”
She laughed and dipped down to neck level in the hopes of appeasing him. Truth was, she hadn’t become more self-conscious. What had changed were her feelings for the man before her.
Oh, hell!
“No, I’m good here.” She waded back a little, trying hard to seem unaffected, but he lowered his chin, droplets of water trailing along his jawline, the challenge in his stare melting her from the inside-out.
“Jump in. Or I’m coming after you.”
The low warning should have intimidated, and it did to some extent, but more than anything, his hollow threat left her skin prickling while a ripple of nerves stirred at her insides.
She kept her voice light but backed away some more. “No, you won’t.”
He laughed and drew closer all the same.
“Chip. I’ll scream.” But her scream was more a squeal of delight as she spun away, running—as fast as one could in water.
“Just dive in, Ally.” His laugh trailed behind her along with the loud splashing sounds of him chasing her. “It will be over before you know it.”
Sensing him closer, she shrieked and used humor to eke an escape. “That’s what all the boys say.”
His splashes stopped as did his laughter. She turned to find deep lines scoring the space between his brows, his stare unblinking, as though she’d stunned him.
A long moment passed before he folded forward in a roar of laughter, the sound bouncing within the grotto of water and trees. A small chuckle grew inside her, the crinkles at his eyes holding a familiar mischief.
“Chip.” She shook her head at all the silliness. “I’m going back to the picnic blanket.”
“No, you’re not.” He narrowed his eyes, although the rest of his face still smiled.
Before she knew it, a large wall of water flew at her.
That devil!
She ducked but too late.
Doing her best to cover her face, she spluttered out what water landed in her mouth. “You’re such an ass!”
She ran at him now, not even caring that the water slowed her steps. The surface hit at just below his waist, and she launched herself at him, aiming to push him over, only for his longer arms to catch her first.
“Not fair.” Her cry held an unmissable huskiness, the solid wall of his body meeting her bare skin as he pulled her into an all-too-coordinated embrace.
So much for pushing him over.
His warm breath stroked her cheek in an enthralling contrast to the cold air and water around her, one that made her heart race and her head dip in surrender, her forehead coming to rest on his.
Emilia’s advice rushed in. That Ally was best to learn Chip as a grown man. A man—once, her dearest friend—now, maybe so much more.
She’d already had glimpses of his personality. Lighthearted, balanced with cutting intelligence. A man who maybe saw too much in her. Then there were moments like this.
When nothing else mattered but the breath-taking sensation of his body against hers. The musk rising from his damp skin. Or the sharp adrenaline shearing her veins as her eyes drifted shut, and she rose to press her lips to his.
Thirteen
Chip tightened his hands at Ally’s waist and pulled her closer, the river lapping against him in calm discord to the desperation sweeping him over. Her kiss. A rare and sumptuous stillness to the noise that overran his brain. She tasted like fresh summer berries, warm and sweet, and so he crushed his mouth harder to hers, seeking more.
Her arms latched around his shoulders, and she pulled herself up, attempting to wrap her legs around him. His help came in the deliciously evil gesture of cupping her ass and lifting her.
Fire roared deep within him, swallowing every question he had about how they’d gotten here and whether he was right to let lust consume him. But her gentle moan in response to each hungry lash of his tongue obliterated his innate ability to stop and make a sensible choice. As did his muscles drawing taut with a need to explore her further.
Slowly. Slowly. He’d never wanted someone so much, but he didn’t want to blow this with rushing. Then again, she’d been the one to instigate this kiss… and the last one.
Oh, but I’m not all that innocent, either.
Of course, he wasn’t. And he didn’t want to be. Still, he’d sensed her doubt time and time again, had a few of his own. Besides, this was Ally. His Ally.
She moved her hands so that her fingers raked through his hair, simultaneously pulling him to deepen the kiss. So passionate. So demanding. Tempting fate, he gave her what she asked for, not just with the kiss but in walking blind toward the river’s bank, her still supported in his arms.
Willow branches brushed his shoulder, the water up to his calves while his skin tingled from the press of her sex against his already rock-hard excitement. He wanted her in every way a man could want a woman, and her legs at his waist made the prospect of taking her so much easier.
This isn’t like me at all.
But his need for her only grew, giving him the distinct feeling a one time-romp by the river would never be enough.
He got her as far as the thick grass beyond the sandy banks, then lay her down beneath him. Could he even have her? Here, in the open? Her legs clamped tight around him, pulling him closer down there, crushing his doubts like a tidal wave to land. She didn’t want him to stop. No. She downright urged him on.
He ground against her, and she threw her head back with a needy whisper, prompting his own possessive growl. Since when was he possessive?
I don’t want to fall for someone who won’t be around.
Those words bashed about in his head, and he slammed his eyes shut, wrenching his lips from hers. Taking her would be easy, but easy now would lead to complicated later.
“Chip?”
Her tone held a reassuring warmth, and he opened his eyes to her softened gaze searching his, her languid body sprawled beneath him, the creamy white of her tummy highlighting the gentle swirl of her belly button.
The sight of her had him hardening anew, that hardening excruciating given his position between her bare thighs—all while he burned to lean down and trek his lips over her exposed body.
“Chip?” New brightness entered her tone, bringing his attention back to the light smile on her lips.
Was he supposed to say something?
For a man with a vast vocabulary, he had nothing to say. All he had was a painfully sharp awareness of his desire. That her fingers now raked over his back, the rigid bite of her nails daring him to continue. To kiss her again. To—
Unwilling to finish that thought, he hissed and pulled back.
One little mistake with potential for so much damage. Not that he would ever consider Ally a mistake, but hell, he didn’t have a condom. Maybe his desire burned hot enough for him to care less on that front, but he’d also gleaned enough of Ally to guess she would think this moment a big mistake. Maybe not now. But later.
