Going All In (12 page)

Wade threw his head back, laughing… which reminded her of the way he’d looked drinking her Gatorade… which made her think, again, about the way he’d look in the throes of sex.

“There ya go. Where I’m from,” Wade said, interrupting her daydream, “girls like trucks.” He slid her a heated gaze and smirked. “And the bigger the better. Always.”

A tropical heat wave erupted within her and she broke out in a pool of sweat.

Before meeting Wade, she rarely thought about sex and never during general conversation. Not even when a guy threw out subtle—or not-so-subtle—innuendoes. Most of the time, the remarks went right over her head. But Wade had flipped some kind of switch inside her head, making it impossible to think of much else. And that was without him tossing double-entendres around while sweeping a hot gaze down her body.

What kind of lover was he? Did he go slow, allowing things to build to an amazing crescendo, or did he get in and out with little to no thought for his partner’s pleasure?

She thought about the way he held doors open for her, helped her with her coat, and brought a sweatshirt so she didn’t get her clothes smelly. If he paid attention to the little things that made a girl feel special, he’d pay attention to the biggies.

The bigger the better.

Her gaze slid over to his lap as the words echoed in her brain. He was tall and heavily muscled… Did that mean he was big everywhere?

Could she handle him if he was?

Could she handle him even if he wasn’t?

God, stop it, stop it, stop it!

She was Callie the Prude; she didn’t think this way. But the truth was she didn’t want to be a prude. That hadn’t been her life’s goal. She hadn’t made a conscious decision to stick with the bland, boring items on life’s sexual buffet. She’d just never met someone who made her want to be adventurous and try the spicier entrees. Until now.

“Are you okay?”

She snapped her gaze up to meet his.
Oh, God.
Had he caught her staring at his crotch? She squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a deep, calming breath. And then another. And another. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The light in front of them turned red, and after coming to a complete stop, he turned his head to fully face her. “Is my driving scaring you that bad?”

“What? No. Your driving is fine. Why?”

His eyebrow rose and he glanced to her hand. “You’re gripping the handle like your life depends on it, and you’re breathing like you just finished a marathon.”

Okay, this was good. He thought his driving was responsible for her heavy breathing, not her runaway imagination sizing him up. Literally. After a hard swallow, she released the handle and eased back in her seat. “No, see, I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

Crap.
Maybe if she shut up and quit going on about everything being fine, he’d actually believe her.

He didn’t seem convinced, but when the light turned green, he accelerated and returned his attention to the road while she massaged the cramp out of her fingers and tried to focus on something less dangerous… an impossible task with him sitting so close, tossing sideways glances her way.

At the next light, her fine-and-dandy crumbled. His gaze was the flame and she was the pot, and the longer he stared, the hotter she got. His nostrils flared—as if picking up on her cat-in-heat scent—and his rich-brown eyes darkened. Hiding her reaction became impossible, so rather than try, she gulped and turned to stare out the window.

“Care to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” His voice was low, his tone coarse.

“Nope.” She shook her head emphatically, causing her curls to swing back and forth in front of her face. She not only didn’t want to tell him what she’d been thinking; she couldn’t. Never in a million years, not even under the threat of torture or death, would she be able to voice all the crazy thoughts she’d had about him over the past several days. “I’m good.”

Hey, check her out… Progress. She’d improved from fine to good, and thank God, the light turned green.

Rather than accelerate immediately, though, he kept his laser-like focus trained on her and muttered, “I bet you are.”

It took her frazzled brain several heartbeats to catch up, and when the words finally registered, instantaneous heat flashed over her and her lungs forgot their proper function.

God, what was she doing with him? She was so far out of her element and in over her head she doubted she’d make it out alive. And not just in a sexual context. She was riding in a truck, and to the best of her knowledge, this was a first. They were headed to the state park—nope, never been to one of those—to sit around a campfire, something she’d already admitted to knowing nothing about.

Jen was right. She had lost her mind. And crazier still, she didn’t want to be saved from the insanity.

She was, however, anxious to turn the spotlight away from herself and onto him. “You said where you’re from, girls like guys with big trucks.”

Did she sound a little testy about other women liking him for his big truck? She screwed her mouth to the side and sighed. Probably, because she’d definitely noticed the attention he and his friends got at the Blue Lagoon, and she hadn’t liked it. “Where is home?”

“North Georgia mountains, near the Tennessee and North Carolina borders. Tyler and Alex live in North Carolina now. Garrett’s moved to Tennessee, but Matt’s still in Georgia.”

Okay, this was good. Switching the focus was helping her relax, so she took a slow, deep breath and kept the conversation going. “How did you end up in Myrtle Beach?”

He glanced over his left shoulder and changed lanes, then gassed it to pass a BMW not driving fast enough to suit him. “After I got out of high school, I floundered for a few years. School wasn’t my thing, so college wasn’t a viable option. There’s not a lot of work in our area, but I found a good construction job, at least through the summers. Winter months are tough, so I bounced at one of the local bars, did a lot of hanging out, and tried not to get into too much trouble.”

A smile played on his mouth as he stared out the windshield, lost to a memory. After a moment, he continued. “I’ve always loved the beach, so one day I got the bright idea to move here.” He glanced at her and the broad smile revealing a slash of white teeth sent a river of warmth cascading through her chest and into her belly. “I had enough money for the gas to get here and a week’s worth of food.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And balls. I was young and invincible, and failure wasn’t an option, so…” He shrugged and laughed again.

Determined not to think about the last item on his list, she focused on the first two. “How in the world did you survive once you got here?”

“I lived in a tent in the campground for about six months”—he nodded toward the road ahead, so she assumed he meant at the state park—“and I worked whatever odd job I could find.”

She stared in disbelief, waiting… silently hoping he’d break into laughter and say,
Kidding,
but he didn’t. “You lived in a tent?”

“Yep.”

He glanced at her again, waiting to see if she had more to say. Undoubtedly, she’d have a whole lot more to say later, but right now, she was still trying to grasp the concept of living in a tent. Not for a weekend, but for six months.

When she didn’t say anything else, he continued. “Fortunately, I met Kevin. It was the beginning of November, and I really didn’t want to live in the campground through the winter. I would’ve survived, but showering in the campground bathhouse was getting old. And not having a television to watch my Bulldogs play football sucked.”

Her mind, for the most part, was blank. She had no frame of reference to comprehend what he’d said, except for one tiny part… him showering. She really wanted to know what he looked like standing beneath the hot spray, water and soapsuds cascading down his body.

He would be magnificent, more hypnotic than her beloved wall fountain at the country club, and an image she’d never forget.

“Kevin not only gave me a job, but also let me crash at his apartment until I saved up enough money to get my own place.”

Shaking off the fog of the shower fantasy, she said, “Wow, I had the feeling you guys were friends, but I didn’t realize you were that close.”

“Yeah, since he saved my life, he’s stuck with me forever.” He laughed. “I tease him about that all the time, but there’s some truth to it. I owe him everything.”

She’d been proud of herself for moving out of her parents’ home, getting her own condo, and finding a job to support herself. Compared to Wade, who’d moved to a different state and lived in a freaking tent for six months, her accomplishments didn’t seem so amazing.

She frowned. No, that wasn’t true. She might not have braved the elements, but she’d faced her father’s tornadic fury and stayed on her feet in the aftermath. Going behind her father’s back to sell Gavin the Anticue fishing pier—a piece of property her father had put in her name in an effort to hide his underhanded development scheme—had taken tremendous courage. Standing before her father to tell him what she did had required even more. She’d bent, but not broken, under the threat of being disowned and the threats of physical violence he’d made against Gavin.

However, had she realized he was serious about making an attempt on Gavin’s life and not just blowing off steam, she’d have torn up the paperwork on the spot.

With a deep exhale, she released the renewed anxiety the memories brought on and the tension twisting her gut. Her approach had been different than Wade’s, but she
was
brave and so much stronger than she’d ever believed herself to be. She needed to give herself credit for that.

“Kevin saved me too.” Technically, Gavin saved her by making the recommendation to Kevin in the first place, and it had been up to her to capitalize on the opportunity, but Kevin gave her a chance, and she’d forever be grateful. “I wasn’t living in a tent, but I was desperate for a job. I had a degree in interior design but no previous work history.” She grimaced as she glanced at him and admitted, “None. Like ever. He gave me a chance, and I’ve been working hard to prove myself since.”

“I’m glad.”

He spoke so softly she wasn’t sure she’d understood. “Pardon?”

He flipped on his left turn signal, veered into the turn lane, and rolled onto the long winding road leading into the state park. “I’m glad he gave you a chance.”

They stopped at a security gate and an older gentleman she assumed was there more for show than actual security ambled over to the truck. “Evening, Wade. Back for more punishment, I see.”

The corner of Wade’s eyes crinkled as he grinned affectionately. “I’ve never claimed to be smart, Mr. Jimmy.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised he knew the older man’s name, but the realization hit her square in the chest. Her parents had lived in the same gated community for fifteen years, and she’d never once thought of calling any of the guards by name, which would be difficult to do since she didn’t know their names. Had she ever bothered to even wave at them or thank them when she drove through the entrance?

“The boys behaving?” Given Wade’s smile and tone, the question seemed rhetorical.

The man pulled a toothpick out of his mouth and grinned. “What do you think?”

Wade laughed and nodded once. “That’s one of the reasons they come this time of year, fewer people to annoy.”

“I assume you’ll be leaving late?”

Mr. Jimmy’s eyes widened with surprise when Wade shook his head. “No, sir. I’m getting too old to make this a nightly thing.” He leaned back so the older man could see Callie. “I brought an insurance policy with me tonight. This lovely lady won’t think sleeping in the back of my truck is all that spectacular, so I’ll be outta here early, getting her home to a nice, warm bed.”

She gulped as he kept his eyes locked on hers, and the cab of the truck turned into a sauna. She tugged at the high collar of her turtleneck, desperate for air and relief from the oppressive heat.

“All right, then,” Mr. Jimmy said with a pat on the windowsill that snapped her and Wade out of their private moment. “I won’t worry about fixing the gate.”

Wade stuck his hand out and clasped the other man’s in a solid shake. “I appreciate you looking out for me the way you do. Have a great night.”

Jimmy waved at Callie and inclined his head. “Good luck, ma’am. You’re gonna need it with this crowd.”

As they pulled away from the security stop, Callie said, “What did he mean about fixing the gate?”

Wade’s grin was mischievous—not a full-on smile or laugh, but a lopsided hint at the bad boy who lived deep inside. “The park closes at ten, but Mr. J knows I have a hard time getting out of here on time. He sets the lock to appear latched, but it’s not. I lock up on my way out. He used to do that for me when I lived here, too. Only then, I had a hard time getting in before the witching hour.”

As they crossed a bridge that had water on both sides, Callie sucked in a breath and leaned closer to the window.
Holy crap! Is that an alligator?

Wade’s chuckle cut through the air. “Don’t worry, Callie. You’re safe with me.”

Oh, God. What had she gotten herself into?

As they turned into the campground, the sound of waves rolling onshore had her stiffening again. “Are we on the beach? Literally?”

“Not exactly. There are dunes between us and the water.” He slowed the truck so they were barely moving forward. “Are you afraid of the water?”

“No.” At least not the heavily chlorinated kind surrounded by concrete. “I’ve never been a fan of the beach. I don’t like getting dirty.”

The dim lights of the dashboard provided just enough light to reveal the heat radiating from his eyes as he said, “That’s a damn shame. Getting dirty can be a hell of a lot of fun.”

Wade parked next to a burgundy truck similar in size and height to his. In the open space in front of them, four tents were arranged in a large circle, the campfire centered between them. The word campfire instantly took on new meaning and understanding for her. This wasn’t a movie, and in this scenario, the men were literally camping around a fire for warmth.