Don't Tell the Wedding Planner (10 page)

She took a deep breath, pushing the horrendously shameful memories away. She’d alienated herself from her parents, her boyfriend and most of her friends in one awful day. Not to mention losing the scholarship.

Coming back to New Orleans was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she didn’t regret the move for a moment.

“And now that this weekend has morphed into the party that just won’t stop growing, this is a massive opportunity for Rainstorm Games,” she said. “And, hence, Colin. The added publicity is also good for my business.”

She took a deep breath and met Matt’s gaze again, forcing the words out. “I can’t pull off doing my job and sorting through—” she gestured her hand between the two of them “—this, whatever
this
is, at the same time.”

A hush descended in her bathroom, and the pause felt big enough to swallow her whole. In fact, she kind of wished it would.

Matt set the gauze on the counter and stepped closer, and her awareness of him increased to distracting levels. “You’re telling me that you’re going to let your guilt keep you from enjoying our time together?”

“It’s not guilt.”

God, she hated that word. She’d spent the first few years back in New Orleans drowning in a murky sea of remorse. She’d promised herself,
promised,
she’d have nothing more to do with the emotion. But still...

Matt cocked his head and continued to say nothing, and the burn in her belly brought a frown to her mouth.

Damn.

“Okay,” she said. “Maybe I do have some leftover guilt.”

She hated admitting that to herself, much less to Matt. It was bad enough her parents still brought up her moment of shame, reminding her of all she’d done. She’d been struggling for years to prove to her parents she’d successfully moved on. And how disappointing to realize she’d subjected herself to the same treatment, even if unconsciously done.

Callie sighed and rubbed her forehead. There were better ways to spend her time than to engage in endless self-flagellation.

“From what you told me, you’re partially responsible for bringing him and his wife together,” Matt said. “Shouldn’t a happy ending release you from your debt?”

“I can’t screw up this wedding and the promotional event—”

“You won’t,” he said, stepping so close she could see those beautiful flecks in his eyes.

“See?” Heart doing crazy somersaults in her chest, she pressed back against the cabinet. “I can’t think when I’m so distracted.”

He lifted a hand to her face. “First, I’ll be happy to provide lessons on how to remain focused despite distractions. I think the fact that I’m capable of holding this conversation with you...alone...in your condo...a bed just a room away, proves my point. Second, if I promise to let you get plenty of sleep tonight, will that convince you?”

The conflicting desires—the need to prove herself and the need to feel Matt’s hands on her again—went to war in her head again. If she cut out all the bare essentials, she could do this. Her gaze dropped to the T-shirt stretched across Matt’s chest, hugging the lean muscles beneath. How much sleep did one need, anyway?

“I think you sold me when you mentioned the lessons,” she said.

“Good.” The sexy smirk on his face just about did her in, and he stepped back. “Just so we’re clear, I’m going to clean up your cut and take you to bed. So if you still have a problem with that, you need to let me know now.”

How could he say those words so calmly? Especially with her pulse striving to achieve record rates? The man had stated his plans to take care of her injury and take her to bed, both declarations delivered with the same nonchalant tone as if the two activities were somehow on the same par with each other. She envied his ability to pull the coolly collected demeanor off.

She felt the need to throw him off guard, to keep him on his toes.

“Just so we’re
clear...
” Now that the matter had been decided, she pulled off her bloodstained blouse and tossed the garment aside. “Not only did the corset embellish the goods, the push-up bra I wore that day on the dock made me look bigger than I really am.”

Holding his gaze, she reached around her back to unfasten her bra, heart thumping hard, record rates achieved. But her pulse shot higher when Matt reached around and gripped her hand, stopping her efforts and putting about an inch of space between their torsos. She stared up at Matt, those beautiful hazel eyes boring into hers. Heat radiated from his body. Or maybe the one generating the scorching temperatures was her.

His voice low, Matt said, “There is absolutely no way I’ll be able to take care of that laceration with you bare-chested. So leave the bra on.” A muscle in his jaw ticked, and she had the absurd urge to ease the spot with her tongue. “At least until I’m done.”

This last was delivered with a light in his eye that could melt metal.

“Nice to know I can at least warrant being labeled a distraction,” she said.

“Never fear. You definitely fall into the category of a distraction. A major one. Not only did I bring the necessary equipment to clean and close up the laceration on your forehead, I brought a box of condoms, too, just in case you didn’t have any here.”

Her heart stopped, and then restarted with a stutter. Unfortunately, the faster rate made concentrating on the conversation difficult. She squirmed and he shot her a mock chastising look.

“You’re going to have to be still,” he said. “All that wiggling is...distracting.”

Callie closed her lids. Best not to stare up into those hazel eyes. “Do you always have trouble focusing when closing up a woman’s cut?”

“No, but they are usually dressed in more than a bra.” His voice dropped an octave. “And it’s never been you before.”

His fingers gently traced around the bruised area briefly and she prided herself on her patience. On her ability to keep her eyes closed with that face and those dreamy eyes so close to hers. She felt his breath warm her forehead, and she gripped the counter, fighting the urge to lean up and take that fabulous mouth with hers.

She was too distracted by the memory to worry much about the sound of rustling, as if he were searching for something, but then came a brush of something soft and wet, followed by a sharp sting.

Callie’s lids popped open as she sucked in a breath. “My God.”

“Sorry.”

An antiseptic smell drifted from the cotton ball in his hand, and he leaned in and pressed a kiss close to the wound before pulling his head back.

She stared up at those lips so close. “What are you using to clean the cut? Hydrochloric acid?”

The chuckle that followed brought a wry twist of her lips. “How did you guess?”

Callie studied Matt’s face as he gently pinched the skin around the cut and applied the liquid skin adhesive. She concentrated on breathing, the sound of the air conditioner humming, anything to keep herself from rising up on tiptoe to kiss Matt, which wasn’t easy. She had firsthand knowledge that he kissed like a dream. He hadn’t needed much to bring her to her knees that day on the dock, just his mouth and those fabulous hands.

When he finished, he dropped his hand. “Now, be careful not to open that up until it has time to dry.”

“Is that going to interfere with you taking me to bed?”

“Hell, no,” he said, and then he covered her mouth with his.

At first it was just a damp press of skin against skin, his mouth slotted against hers. The heat in Callie’s belly increased, seeping along her veins, and she rose up on her toes, taking more. With a groan, Matt opened his mouth, forcing Callie’s open and tasting her with his tongue. He tipped his head to the right, and then to left, as if comparing how they best fit together. Heart thumping, Callie was just about to pull back and suggest moving things to the bedroom when Matt leaned down, gripped her behind the thighs and lifted her.

Callie pulled her head back. “Wait,” she said with a gasp that contained both humor and desire, clutching his shoulders for balance. “What’s your plan for providing lessons on how to remain focused despite distractions?”

The crooked smile on Matt’s face sent anticipation and heat curling up in her stomach, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. With one hand against her bottom, he supported her weight as he pulled the box of condoms from his bag.

“No worries.” He exited the bathroom, heading up the hallway and into her bedroom. He placed her on the bed, staring down at her with a heated look that sent her stomach searching for her toes. “I’ll think of something.”

His gaze swept down her body, the hazel eyes growing dark, and goose bumps fanned across her skin. Without a word, he pulled off her sandals and stripped her of her clothes, until all that remained were her panties and bra.

She pushed up on one elbow and reached for his shirt. “Let me help.”

Matt gently pushed her back down, the crooked smile sinfully sexy. “No,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself and pull that head wound back open.”

“Then what am I supposed to—?”

Matt gripped her wrists and raised her hands over her head, curling her fingers around the wooden slats of her headboard. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss next to her cut.

“Your job is just to hold on and not move,” he said.

A stab of desire sliced through her, heating her between the legs. “Not move?” she asked. “But how am I supposed to—”

Matt reached for the button on his shirt, and she watched, mesmerized, as he undid the row of buttons one by one and tossed the shirt aside. His eyes on hers, he reached for the front of his jeans, and Callie’s heart picked up its pace. The muscles in his arms and chest rippled as he flicked open his pants and pushed everything down. Lean hips, well-muscled thighs and a heart-attack-inducing erection left Callie struggling to continue the act of breathing.

“Matt...”

The words died as he knelt at her feet, removing her bra and panties. She waited for him to kiss her. Instead, Matt picked up her leg, pressing openmouthed kisses up her shin, her thigh, and then landing on her hip bone.

“The key to keeping that incision safe,” he murmured against her skin, “is to remain completely still.”

She arched her back, hoping to encourage him to head south. Instead, he trailed higher until his tongue dipped in her navel, sending a skitter of sparks up her spine. He cupped her between the legs and shifted higher, his mouth moving up until it landed on a nipple.

Shock and desire shot through her limbs, and she arched her back, seeking more of that mind-blowing mouth against her skin. Matt circled the tip with his tongue, and Callie sucked in a breath. But just as she was melting at the caress, he ran his tongue down her abdomen, across her hip and landed between her legs.

Heat and pleasure blasted through her. “Oh, my God, Matt,” she said, tipping her head back.

When Matt flicked his tongue against her, Callie whimpered, “Please...”

She wanted to wrap her arms around his back and pull his body down. She wanted his naked skin stretched out across the top of hers. She wanted to reach down and clutch his head, pulling him closer.

Fingers tight around the headboard, she said, “Can I let go yet?”

“Nope,” he said. At least this time his voice sounded harsh, as if he were wound up tight and needed release.

Jeez, she knew how he felt.

“Not yet,” he said.

He sat up on his knees, and Callie’s breath escaped with a protesting sound. Palms damp against the wooden slats of the headboard, she watched Matt apply a condom, her fingernails digging into her palms. Eyes homing in on hers, he swooped up her body and buried himself deep between her legs. His pace relentless, he rocked into her.

Mind spinning, muscles straining, she struggled to keep her hold of the headboard as he moved. The intensity in his gaze and the dark, focused look on his face brought her closer to the edge. His body hard, Matt drove her higher, the muscles in his arms lengthening and bulging from his efforts.

“Matt.”

“Okay.”

His one-word response brought a cry of relief, and Callie wrapped her arms around his back, her legs around his hips, holding him close. Urging him on. Hanging on tight. The heat of pleasure burned hotter, brighter, until Callie was sure she’d burst into flames. Feeling out of control, she gripped his shoulders harder. The orgasm burst outward, shock waves moving through her body, and she closed her eyes, relishing the sensation, barely aware as Matt gave one final thrust, calling out her name.

SEVEN

The next
morning, awareness came to Matt in layers, each one better than the one before. Slowly he became cognizant of a comfortable bed, of soft sheets and Callie’s hair tickling his cheek, his hand resting on her hip. Her body lay lax, her breathing deep and even as she slept. For a moment he enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding a beautiful woman in his arms. A lazy morning where he had nothing he needed to do and no place he needed to be. Even better?

The potential for a repeat of last night.

He felt more relaxed than he had in a long time and not just because of the sex. Although the activities went a hell of a long way at taking the edge off the tension he’d been carrying around since he’d first laid eyes on Callie. The great sex left his body humming.

A buzzing sound caught his attention, and he peered over Callie’s shoulder. His cell phone vibrated madly, inching across the nightstand in its efforts to get his attention. When it went to voice mail, his phone flashed. Five missed calls.

Damn.

Panic punched him, and he bolted upright in bed, picturing Tommy calling for help. The emergency room trying to contact him about his brother being brought in for an overdose. The police calling to deliver the tragic news...

The house was dark when Matt entered—not a peaceful stillness, but the eerie kind that filled him with dread. Suffocating. Terrifying. Anxiety crawled up his spine as he headed up the hallway and called out Tommy’s name, getting no answer. He knew his brother was home because his car was in the drive.

When he spied his brother’s bedroom door cracked open, Matt’s steps slowed, his pulse increased and goose bumps prickled his neck, spreading throughout his limbs. His heart hammered in his chest as he slowly pushed the door open, and certainty slid into place when he saw Tommy lying on the floor, pale, as still as death.

Matt slammed his eyes shut against the memory, nausea rising in his stomach and tightening his chest. How could he have forgotten to check in with Tommy last night?

Matt fought to control his breathing, cursing under his breath, mindful of Callie sleeping next to him. He glanced down. Fortunately, she still appeared to be deep in sleep. Matt rolled out of bed and stood, reaching for the phone. As he scrolled through the missed calls, his heart continued to pound, no matter how much he told himself to calm down.

Every voice message was from Tommy, which meant he wasn’t dead. At least not yet.

Relief poured through Matt, and he leaned against the wall, bracing his hands on his knees. Willing himself to friggin’ get a grip.

Once he felt steadier, he padded down the hallway and into Callie’s living room. Hitting Tommy’s number, Matt collapsed onto the couch and braced for the topic.

Tommy voice sounded worried. “Where the hell have you been?”

Matt rubbed his eyes and let out a self-directed scoff of ridicule.

“Sorry, Tommy. I got distracted.”

Matt’s mind drifted back to Callie

Yep, very distracted.

Tommy’s huff sounded more amused than annoyed. “Yeah, well, when my worrywart of a big brother didn’t check in like usual, I got concerned. And with every unreturned call, I thought you’d been mugged and knocked unconscious or something.”

The bark of laughter held more bitterness than humor. Hopefully Tommy wouldn’t notice.

“Sorry, Tommy. Long story. Wound up making a trip to the E.R. last night.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just...helping out a friend.”

“A friend?”

Matt ignored the implied inquiry beneath his brother’s tone. “I’m heading back home tomorrow.”

His return to Manford was long overdue.

“Good,” Tommy said.

The relief in Tommy’s voice had Matt sitting up right. For the first time, Matt noticed the tension underlying his brother’s voice, a tension that didn’t relate to his brother’s worries about Matt.

“Are you, uh...?” Being a moron meant Matt’s question came out incredibly lame. “Okay?” Matt finished.

Okay,
of course, meaning many different things.

Are you sleeping all right?

Having trouble at work?

Using again?

Matt bit back the groan and dropped his head into his hand, phone still pressed to his ear. They’d been skirting the edges of this issue since the last time Matt had picked Tommy up from a thirty-day stint in rehab. And the two years of tiptoeing were tiresome. Because, seriously, how many ways could two men have the same conversation?

If you don’t quit, you’re going to wind up dead, Tommy.

I’ve given it up for good, Matt, I swear.

And in Tommy’s defense, Matt knew his brother meant the words every time he repeated them.

Tommy’s voice brought Matt back to the conversation. “No, everything’s fine.”

There was an awkward pause. “Good,” Matt said, wondering what Tommy was
really
thinking.

“Penny and I will have a couple of steaks on the grill waiting for you when you get off the plane.”

As always, Tommy managed to bring a smile to Matt’s lips, despite the tension. “Sounds perfect.”

Matt signed off and leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes. Wishing he could recapture that feel-good, peaceful moment this morning when he’d first woken up. The lingering pleasant buzz from a night of fantastic sex. The lack of the ever-present uneasiness eating away at his stomach. He was too young to feel this damn old.

The residual panic-induced adrenaline still coursed through his limbs. Normally he needed several cups of coffee before being fully awake in the morning. Today, the scare had left him supercharged, and the tension in Tommy’s voice still weighed on Matt’s mind.

Something had upset his little brother. And if Matt didn’t get back soon and get to the bottom of whatever was going on, he might wind up dragging Tommy back to rehab again.

His gut clenched and he felt sick to his stomach.

Jesus, don’t throw up.

Callie’s voice broke through the unpleasant thought.

“So you’re heading out tomorrow?”

Matt opened his eyes and spied Callie leaning in the living-room doorway. She didn’t look fully awake, with her honey-colored hair tousled and her eyes sleepy. She was in a T-shirt that just covered her bottom, her long legs bared—legs that had spent a good portion of the night wrapped around him.

Longing surged through him. The urge to pick her up and carry her back to bed was strong.

“Sorry.” She pushed the hair out of her face. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“No problem. And, yeah,” he said. “I have several shifts I have to work this coming week.”

And a brother to check in on.

Callie tipped her head. “Will you be coming back before the wedding?”

Six weeks without seeing Callie again seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. But Matt knew the tightness in his chest wouldn’t ease completely with just a quick check on his brother, not with the tension he’d heard in Tommy’s voice.

The playful light in Callie’s eyes eased the tension until Matt had to fight a smile as he tried to sound serious. “Depends.”

Clearly, she caught the underlying tease in his tone. “On what?”

“On whether or not you’ll make it worth my while.”

“Does a good party hold any merit?” Callie said. “I was hoping you would come to my family reunion with me. You can sit back, relax and enjoy the loaded comments bestowed upon me by some of my relatives. And if that doesn’t tempt you—” her lips twisted wryly “—there’ll be some great food, too. I just happen to be related to the woman who makes the best shrimp étouffée in two counties. Nice and spicy.”

Matt laughed, enjoying the way Callie’s dry humor eased that residual tightness in his chest. “That’s not the kind of spicy I was hoping for.”

Her warm gaze lit with mischief, Callie uncrossed her arms and came closer. And with each step she took every cell in Matt’s body became tighter and tighter, focused on the enticing expanse of skin, the tension now of a different sort. And far more welcome.

She came to a stop in front of him. “So will you do a girl a favor and come back for a visit before the wedding?”

Matt looked up at Callie. He’d be crazy to plan a return visit when he had so much on his plate already. Two weeks of work at Manford Memorial, with a four-day stint in one of the busiest emergency rooms in Miami in between. Between travel, the need for sleep and the upcoming wedding, there wouldn’t be much in the way of spare time. Adding in an unnecessary trip back to New Orleans clearly bordered on insane.

“I promise you can crash here during your stay,” Callie said.

Hell, who could say no to that kind of offer?

Matt gave up, the grin creeping up his face as he reached for Callie’s thigh, pulling her into his lap. “I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

One week later

At ten o’clock in the evening, Matt let himself into the split-level house he’d grown up in and now shared with Tommy and Penny. Matt tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and rolled his shoulders to ease the tension of a long, boring shift in the E.R. Heading toward his side of the house, he was careful not to wake the sleeping occupants located at the other end. The arrangement had worked out better than he’d originally hoped.

One side of their shared home belonged to Tommy and Penny, providing them plenty of room for privacy. The space contained a bedroom, a family room and a guest-room-turned-gaming-room. The latter had been Tommy’s childhood bedroom and, years later, served as his retreat during the worst of his getting-clean stages.

Matt had spent years tiptoeing past the room and hovering outside the closed door, watching and wondering and worrying about Tommy. Even if Tommy had moved out, there was no way Matt could ever enter the room without feeling that sick churn in his stomach, a nausea that always left him longing to vomit, just to purge himself of the feeling. During the worst times, darkness and despair had seemed embedded in every nook and cranny, oozing from the walls and carpet. The lingering echoes of those emotions still pressed in on Matt. Even now he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck every time he glanced up the hallway.

Matt lived on the other side of the house where he had a bedroom and an office large enough to afford him some private space of his own. The kitchen and living room provided a common area in which Tommy, Penny and Matt could choose to hang out together at the end of the day. Since Matt traveled so much, he rarely spent more than a week at a time at his home base.

Clearly the current living situation wasn’t a permanent solution, but for now the arrangement worked. When Penny had joined the Paulson household, Matt had offered to move into one of the nicer apartment complexes up the street. But Tommy had refused to kick Matt out of his home. With Tommy’s track record, most of the decent rental properties would refuse to take him on as a tenant. Unfortunately, Penny’s history ruled out even some of the shadier places in town. In truth, Matt hadn’t fought the setup, mostly because the two couldn’t hide much if Matt occasionally occupied the same home.

So they existed in this state of limbo, a lot like the limbo of his and Callie’s relationship.

Sighing, Matt entered his bedroom and toed off his shoes. He gripped the hem of his scrub top and wearily pulled it over his head before reaching for his pants. He needed a shower, food and a good night’s rest. But mostly, he needed to see Callie again.

Yesterday’s sketchy night of sleep had started with dreams of her in a wet T-shirt, Matt’s hands roaming freely over the thin cotton, tracing the lace of her bra. As if by magic, then he’d been stroking the bare curves of her breasts. Tasting her skin. Reaching for her shorts. And because everything came easy in a dream, suddenly she’d been naked, squirming beneath him with an endless amount of enticingly silky skin, and he’d been licking his way down her flat stomach and to her inner thigh...

He needed to get a grip.

Last week’s flight back home had been delayed and he’d been stuck in the Minneapolis airport for twelve hours and, instead of catching a much-needed nap, he’d spent the entire time fantasizing about being back in Callie’s bed. Not exactly the way to encourage grabbing some shut-eye on the plane, either. By the time he’d arrived home in Michigan, it was almost 3:00 a.m. and he was dead-tired, frustrated and ready to turn around and head back to New Orleans. Instead, he’d dropped into bed and tossed and turned, missing Callie even more. He’d finally fallen into an exhausted sleep and slept until nine in the morning, which meant he’d missed seeing Tommy before his brother left for work.

An anxious twist in Matt’s chest had him clutching his dirty clothes, and he dumped his scrubs into the wicker hamper with more force than necessary.

At first glance, everything had seemed fine at home. Tommy looked good, Penny looked good and both appeared to be continuing on the path of the straight and narrow. Dinner that first night together had included steaks on the grill, as promised, but Tommy’s behavior seemed off. The nagging feeling wasn’t anything Matt could put a decisive finger on. There was a distance Matt wasn’t used to, especially since they’d been living in each other’s pockets for the past two years. And the tension had now been gnawing at Matt’s insides for days.

Matt pondered the possible causes as he showered and dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt. He padded into the kitchen. Standing at the kitchen counter, he ate delicious leftover pasta, thanks to Penny, who knew how to cook. Adding her to the mix had definitely improved the cuisine in the Paulson house.

Two of his three requirements met, and with sex with Callie disappointingly out of the question, he knew sleep was still a long way off. Matt headed for his office and dropped onto the leather couch, turning on his laptop on the coffee table.

An icon popped on his screen, indicating Callie had just flipped on her computer. With her a time zone behind him, the late hour wasn’t quite as bad for her as for him. He hesitated for a moment and then hit the call button.