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Uh-oh. This was where they’d made love.
Did Deck remember? He was looking at her that way.
The last thing she needed with water wrapping her in warmth like the best of all hugs, was Deck naked, a mere arm’s length away. She gulped more champagne, realizing too late that its fizzy deliciousness would unravel her inhibitions, making things worse.
Deck gave her a slow, big-as-the-sky smile. “Very nice…”
It wasn’t until he lifted the bottle that she realized he’d meant the champagne, not her. Whew.
“I robbed the ranch’s supply. I’ll have to replace it. Ernie’s carries champagne, right?”
“Even hicks enjoy the finer things. We don’t all toss back a brew, then go shoot up highway signs for a good time.”
“Come on. You know I don’t think that.”
He shrugged. “You left.”
“And you stayed,” she snapped back, defensive suddenly.
“To each his own.” Was he jabbing at her, defending his choice, or being nice?
“As long as you’re happy.” Did that sound condescending?
“Exactly.” Picking up the tension, he softened his next words. “Cal says your company’s doing well. You set up parties for celebrities, right?” He lifted an eyebrow, like he couldn’t believe she did that for a living.
“I do events, not just parties. There’s more to it than cocktails and tenderloin satay.” She held out her glass for more champagne. In Manhattan, top event planners were movers and shakers. Out here, though, she could see how it might sound, well, silly. “Human culture is built around points of celebration.”
“Okay….” Another eyebrow shift.
“Events can make or break a new company, a product, hell, a relationship. In the right atmosphere, the right combination of people, food, setting and entertainment, deals can be cut, business ties forged, critical negotiations conducted. My mission is to bring people together for meaningful outcomes.”
“I didn’t realize parties could be so, uh—”
“Complex? Crucial?”
“Uh, sure.”
Was he laughing at her? Probably. They both drank more.
“Maybe you could explain that some,” Deck said, clearly trying to be polite.
“Okay,” she said, deciding to pretend he was honestly curious. “First we consider the client’s goals and determine the proper venue and approach. Sometimes direct mail, product placement, print and broadcast advertising will do. Other times, viral marketing works. Often, and this is where I come in, entertaining key clients, opinion leaders, media or city officials are a linchpin to the campaign.”
She realized Deck’s eyes had dipped to where the water met the top of her breasts. Caught, he yanked his gaze upward and cleared his throat. “Please go on,” he said, gulping champagne, then refilling her glass.
“There’s the budget,” she said, fighting her response to his roving eyes. “That’s huge for client satisfaction and my revenue stream. Clients want the world. You should try creating an elaborate, sumptuous reception for five hundred on a shoestring. It takes artistry, attention to detail and fierce negotiation skills.”
“I’m sure you’re good at what you do, Callie.” Deck leaned closer. “You wouldn’t take a job if it didn’t challenge you.”
“Thank you,” she said, distracted by the sexual sparks flying between them. Funny how the pale light of the moon was all she needed to read him now. In broad daylight he’d been a mystery to her.
“You’re only as good as your last event,” she said to distract herself. “There’s a lot of pressure, and word of screwups travels fast.”
Her mind wandered to Deck, naked beneath the water. Was he aroused? She’d begun to feel the champagne. She had to keep them talking. “How about you? What else do you do besides the ranch? Not that that’s not plenty.”
Deck chuckled. “It’s okay, Callie. You don’t have to watch every word. We got off on the wrong foot.”
He reached across and touched her arm, his fingers warm from the water. She couldn’t help but sink lower and suck in a breath. “Okay. That’s good.”
Deck withdrew his hand slowly. “I stay busy. Civic BS in town—chamber of commerce, planning and zoning. I also consult with horse breeders and buyers all over the West.”
“And in your free time…?”
“I hang with friends. If I want music, I go into Tucson or up to Phoenix. For that matter, New York’s just a couple bags of salted nuts away. I’ve been there.”
“You were in the city? You didn’t call.”
“It was a long time ago. I was with someone.” He shrugged.
“But I would have taken you to dinner. We’re friends…”
“It was last-minute.”
He was right. With their history, a double date over martinis and sushi would have been awkward.
“So is New York all you expected?” he asked.
“All that and more.” She stopped herself. Why cheerlead? Naked in the springs, here with Deck, who’d always accepted anything she said, she told him the truth. “Is anything ever what you expect?”
“Maybe not.”
“New York is indescribable. Intense. Vital. Important. The people are fascinating. There’s so much to do—theater, museums, clubs, any kind of food you can imagine. It’s the heartbeat, the pulse of the country. There’s so much I love there.”
“And…?”
She felt a twinge, like a new toothache, and took a big swallow of champagne before she answered. “It can wear you out. It’s crowded. It’s expensive. It’s noisy and complicated.”
“No place is perfect.”
She smiled. “True. And I wouldn’t live anywhere else.” For now. That thought surprised her. “Part of it’s my job. Especially after a twelve-hour day, when I have to schmooze the catering manager into one more round of appetizers, conjure a smile for the client from hell who’s underpaying me, or cough up a joke before two business partners launch a fist fight with each other.”
“Sounds like an ordeal.”
“Does it? I guess it is. And, sometimes I feel…” She paused, not willing to say lonely. Too weak. In the city, you kept your cards close and your deodorant fresh. One drop of blood in the water and you were sashimi on an enamel plate.
Lately, since the breakup, she’d felt kind of alone. Even with Stefan, really, but she’d stayed too busy to notice.
“Overwhelmed,” she finished. She’d love to ask Deck if he ever felt lonely, but they were too tentative with each other. “Your mom’s doing okay?” she asked instead.
“She’s happy. Harvey’s a good guy and she likes Modesto.”
“Do you miss the Lazy J?”
“Sometimes. Pop would never have sold. I’m sure he’d have hated that I was leasing the place. I had to hand off when I finally went for my degree.”
“In what? Agribusiness?”
He laughed. “No. I got a BA in humanities. That and three-fifty will get you a venti at Starbucks. And, yes, I’ve been to Starbucks, Callie.”
“I didn’t say a word.” At least they were joking. “Your dad wouldn’t have wanted you to be strapped to the ranch forever. He’d want you to be happy.”
“It wasn’t a burden.” He shrugged.
“You sacrificed so much for your mom, staying with her so long. Meanwhile, I left my dad all alone.”
“You’re out here a lot. You call all the time.”
“Yeah, but I never know what’s really going on. I think Dad puts on a happy face for me.”
“That’s probably true. You used to do that for him, too. You were a one-girl show. Housekeeper, therapist, entertainer.”
“I just did what had to be done.”
“Maybe Cal should have looked out for you more.”
“Cheering him up cheered me, too.” Look happy and you’ll be happy. That was what she tried with everyone but Deck. With him, the mask fell away. It was falling away right now.
“It’s hard for me to be here,” she said. “It’s like I get ambushed. I miss my mother so bad I feel sick. It’s ridiculous. Eleven years have passed. What’s my problem?”
“You left so soon after she died. Maybe that’s why.”
“I think losing our parents so young changed the course of our lives. I escaped to New York and you got trapped at the Lazy J.”
“That’s pretty dramatic. You were going to New York anyway. And I told you I liked working the ranch.”
“Still…”
“Hey, hey. No regrets, remember? Live life with relish…” He paused for her to finish the old joke.
“And mustard?”
They laughed, looking into each other’s eyes, sharing the warm memory. She felt close to him again.
“I think hard times make us stronger, Callie.”
“I don’t know about that. I was a mess.” Every day had been a fight to stay at the surface, a desperate dogpaddle or she’d drop to the bottom like a stone. “If it hadn’t been for you…” Deck had held her up. Deck and his warm arms and good heart.
“We were both in the same foxhole.”
“Not exactly the same.” The deeper pain rose like the hot steam around her. “You didn’t cause your dad’s death.” She swallowed, struggling with emotion. She usually danced away from this idea.
“Your mother fell asleep driving. You weren’t in the car.”
“It was for my party. She drove all the way to Phoenix to get the stuff. If I’d settled for pizza at Dino’s, she’d be alive today.” She swallowed and blinked, embarrassed.
“Hey…” Deck moved to hug her, keeping the embrace high on their bodies. “I hate to see you in pain.”
“I know.” He had always been there for her. His skin against hers felt so right. She rested her cheek on his chest. It felt so good, as calming as back then.
Just like that, the moment changed. The comfort hug turned into something else, something more intense. Callie became aware of a hitch in Deck’s breathing and her own. His arms around her were strong and sure, his fingers dug in.
She should push back. He should back off. Neither of them moved. She became aware of a tight ache between her legs.
They were inches apart. All either of them had to do was shift slightly forward and they’d be body to body, thigh to thigh, her breasts against his chest, her belly against his erection. It would feel so good. Like before, but new, too.
She ached to move closer.
“I remember how we were,” Deck said, his voice rough.
They had to stop. This was dangerous.
“Me, too.” She began to tremble. She wanted him so badly. She wanted to see how they would be together—without the grief and the frantic desperation. She’d been a girl, inexperienced in sex. Now she was a woman and knew exactly what to do and what she wanted. “I’d never felt like that before.”
Or since, for that matter. Deck hadn’t been her first, but sex with Taylor had been awkward and fast and all about him. Deck and she had moved together like two halves of a whole.
“We were young,” Deck said, shifting infinitesimally closer. His chest grazed her breasts.
The ache between her legs felt like an injury. She wanted to lunge at him.
“Sex was new.” Deck’s eyes burned at her.
“Does sex ever get old?” Never with Deck. She couldn’t imagine that happening. “It was more than that.” She had to say it. She’d loved his seriousness, his self-confidence. He’d seemed free and brave and adult.
“Yeah,” he said. “It was more.” They were in trouble now, lost in the past, in their soft words, their naked nearness. “Lots more.” With a decisive move, he pulled her against him, let her feel his hardness, took her backside in both his hands.
What are we doing? She couldn’t say the words. She could only melt against him, weak with relief.
Deck’s mouth found hers, his lips warm and giving, his tongue pressing gently, wanting in. She opened to him, welcomed his tongue, the slow slide of his lips on hers. The kiss was like water after a desperate thirst. She couldn’t get enough. She wrapped her arms around him, dug in with her fingers, pushed her own tongue into his mouth, tasting him again, remembering, but discovering, too. They’d been kids.
How had this happened?
It was the champagne, the moonlight, the hot springs and the memories. It was the way he smelled of cedar and sunshine. It was all that they’d meant to each other. And maybe more.
5
DECK WAS FOGGY on exactly how he’d ended up with Callie in his arms, her sweet tongue in hot pursuit of his own, but he wasn’t one bit sorry.
He’d started it, he knew that. He’d meant to comfort her, but the past had come rushing back and they were so close and so naked in the water that he couldn’t stop himself.
He gripped her backside with both hands. She moaned and trembled, wrapping her legs around his waist, locking on with her heels, as if for dear life.
He felt the hot drive to be inside her, making her come, coming himself, and fought to slow down, to manage this rush of need. He felt like a starving man dropped into a banquet.
Callie pulled back and looked at him, panting, her gaze flying across his face. “What are we doing?” She sounded scared.
“Acting crazy,” he said, taking her mouth again.
She pulled away and looked at him, her eyes dazed. “Completely crazy.” She blinked and shook her head, clearly fighting for control. “This would get complicated. We have to work together. Sex can make things weird. Plus…birth control…”
“True.” What was wrong with him? He hadn’t even paused to consider a condom. She was so beautiful, her eyes glittering, wanting him, her lips puffy from his assault. He wanted her so bad. He groaned. He couldn’t help it.
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