Going All In (5 page)

However, even on his best behavior, he still finished his meal in half the time of Callie.

Damn, that was a great burger.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin, balled it up, and dropped it on the grease-laden burger wrapper, then stretched his legs out so his feet slid under her side of the booth.

Fifteen minutes… just fifteen minutes of shuteye would knock off the lingering effects of the tequila and beer. And oh yeah, don’t forget the friggin’ apple pie moonshine. He rubbed his hands over his face and yawned as he rested his head on the back of the booth.

“Looks like you didn’t get much sleep last night and could use a nap.”

He cracked his eyes open and watched as Callie sucked in a breath and pressed her lips together. With a huff, she dropped her gaze to the table and fiddled with a fry, then dragged it through a mound of ketchup before tossing it into her mouth. She seemed to be working hard to keep her focus on her food and not him, and his super-sized ego wondered if she was fishing for personal information.

Interesting.

Damn, it felt good to be able to tell the truth, rather than a watered-down version of how he normally spent his evenings. “I desperately need a nap.” He yawned and rubbed his face again and pulled himself out of his slouch. “Sorry. I have friends in town on vacation. They lay around and sleep all day, gearing up for another round, while I schlep my worn-out ass around and try to work. And usually fail miserably. It happens every year. You’d think I’d get better or smarter, but I never do.”

She laughed and nodded. “I understand how that goes. My best friends, Jen and Tiffany, don’t work, so they don’t understand why I go home early on weeknights. Although, to be fair, I didn’t used to get it either, so I can’t get too upset with them.”

Without allowing himself to put much thought into why it mattered, or why he was interested, he used the opportunity as an opening to learn more about her. “How do you normally spend your evenings?”

“I spend a lot of time with Jen and Tiffany, either going out to clubs or hanging out at mine or Tiffany’s condo. If I’m not with them, I work on one of my projects. She grinned sheepishly. “Or I lie on the couch and watch TV.”

He found it endearing she was embarrassed about being a couch potato, especially since he hadn’t expected a whole lot more from her in the first place. At least not until this morning. Now that he’d gotten to know her better, he felt bad about his rush to judgment. “What kind of projects?”

She took another bite of her burger and a big gulp of her sweet tea. “I restore old furniture. Well, not exactly restore. I usually give the pieces a fresh coat of paint to liven them up but rarely restore them to their original look.”

He stared, speechless. Something that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Mountain lion got your tongue?” Her grin was sly and playful as she scooped up another glob of ketchup.

“Mountain lion?”

“Yeah.” Her grin grew and that damned dimple that seemed to be mocking him made another appearance. “It would be silly to say ‘cat got your tongue.’ You’re too big and tough for that. Although, it’s probably silly to say anything got your tongue. What does that even mean?” She snapped her mouth shut and ran her tongue over her teeth, then grabbed her burger and shoved it into her mouth like a plug, stopping the flow of words.

He laughed at her quirkiness and switched his attention to her mouth, opened wide, and her pretty pink lips wrapped around the burger. The nasty thoughts that had started getting their groove on were cut short, though, as her white teeth sank into the burger and reality cut the fantasy off at the knees.

He cleared his throat and tugged on his jeans while shifting his position. “I admit you surprised me with the restoring furniture thing, but that’s cool. Where do you get the pieces?”

“Here and there, mostly secondhand shops.” She paused and diverted her gaze. “I haven’t gotten up the nerve to go to yard sales yet, but I’m working on that. What about you? How do you spend your evenings?”

A chill slivered through him as he looked into her eyes, once again projecting an inner naivety and innocence that would be permanently sullied if he answered her honestly. Lying wasn’t his thing, but he also found the-whole-truth-and-nothing-but incredibly unappealing in the face of her guilelessness. Searching for a truthful answer that wouldn’t be brutally honest, he said, “I hang out at a couple different clubs.” Details beyond that weren’t necessary. “If I’m not doing that, I sit next to the campfire on the beach and watch the night sky change.”

She froze with a fry halfway to her mouth. “Campfire?”

“Yeah, you know… a pile of wood, a match, a log to sit on, and a cold beer.”

She shook her head and the ends of her hair swished back and forth over her shoulders. “I’ve seen them on TV and in the movies, but I’ve never been to a campfire.” She paused and gave him that cute little grin again. “It’s not that I have anything against them. I’ve just never had the opportunity to… sit around one?” She posed it as a question, like she wasn’t sure of the proper terminology.

He wasn’t surprised by her admission, but it was beyond his comprehension that someone could reach her age without ever having hung around a fire, either for pleasure and relaxation or for heat. Apparently he also found it unacceptable, because without thought he said, “We’ll have to rectify that.”

Her smile weakened, but she nodded anyway. “Uh, okay. That’d be great.”

“Let me guess. You’re not an outdoorsy girl.”

“I don’t know.” She laughed self-consciously and studied her food again. “I like sitting around the pool, and I enjoy shopping at outdoor malls. I know this sounds crazy, but I’ve never had much of a reason to be outdoors. I don’t like the beach.” She shivered. “I don’t like the feel of sand on my skin, and… well, I had a bad experience at the beach once.”

How could anyone have a bad experience at the beach? Unless sharks were involved…

“I’ve never been in the woods or to a campfire. I’ve never gone golfing.” She brightened. “I do like to play tennis.”

The conversation was surreal because she’d never done any of the things that were a normal part of his life. Well, except the golf thing. He didn’t play either, so at least they had that in common. But he grew up in the North Georgia mountains. He was more comfortable outside than inside, and he couldn’t imagine not spending part of his day—a large part—outside, soaking up nature.

“You think I’m weird.”

He started to tease her by agreeing, but when he looked at her sad face and the way she worried her bottom lip, he found himself reaching across the table for her hand. A gesture that surprised her as much as him. “No, not at all. I’m just surprised.”

In a million ways over a million things.

“I spent more time outside than inside as a kid. Still do, actually. It’s one of the reasons I love working construction. Except for the god-awful paperwork, everything I do is outside.” The paperwork that accompanied the foreman’s position had taken a lot of getting used to, but it was a small sacrifice for the additional pay, as well as the satisfaction of overseeing a project from start to finish. “Would you be interested in trying some outdoor activities?”

What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he asking her that? Why was he holding his breath, waiting for her answer?

And why, for the love of God, was he still holding her hand?

Her smile held more confidence this time as her head bobbed enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Stepping out of my comfort zone is something I’ve been working on. I can’t guarantee I’ll be any good at it, but I’m willing to try.”

He laughed at her excitement and squeezed her hand… then let go like he’d been stung. He was enjoying the contact entirely too much, and he absolutely refused to give his mind permission to wander down the primal path illuminated by her desire to step out of her comfort zone and experience new things.

His mind, however, didn’t need permission to carry on. As innocent and naive as she appeared, he couldn’t help but wonder how experienced she was in love, specifically sex. He’d guess her to be at the beginner to intermediate level, and damn if he didn’t like the idea of being the one to take her to expert.

Trouble with a capital T.

With a sharp shake of the head, he cleared out the thoughts and got back to the campfire, which had started him on this path in the first place. The guys wanted to go to a club tonight to hear a band Alex liked. Aside from that, they didn’t have any plans other than their traditional Saturday night trip to the Sunset Strip… assuming they survived Tyler’s dumbass plan to SCUBA dive Saturday morning.

“You’re snarling again.”

Wrenching his gaze away from the window and a raindrop making a lazy trail down the glass, he snapped his attention back to Callie. “Again?”

She lowered her lids and nodded. “You do that a lot around me.”

He’d never thought about it, but he imagined he did. He considered broaching the subject of their previous work history, so they could get it out there and clear the air, but things were going so well he didn’t see a need to dredge up the past, at least not right now.

“I was thinking about my friend Tyler’s suicide mission.”

“What?” Her shrill voice caused customers at nearby tables to glance at them as she surged forward in the booth, ready to bolt for the door.

He smiled and waved a hand in the air to diffuse her panic and also let the other now-alarmed patrons know all was well. “I don’t mean literally, but…” It sure felt that sometimes. Wade sighed and shook his head, then slumped even lower in his seat. “He’s a bit of a daredevil. An outdoor adventure enthusiast,” he explained, using Tyler’s sugarcoated title for what most people called adrenaline junkies. “He has the general location of a previously undiscovered ship and wants to go diving for it. The weather forecast isn’t conducive any day this week, but he called me this morning to let me know he’s setting things up for Saturday morning.”

“Is that who you were talking to while sitting in your truck?”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he replayed the frustrating conversation in his mind. “He’s always been wild and more than a little crazy, but since his wife Laney left him, he’s out of control. Personally, I think he’s gotten too reckless and is on a self-destruction course. But he doesn’t see it that way, and it really pisses me off that he’s willing to take unnecessary risks.”

This time she was the one reaching for his hand. “It sounds like you care a lot about him. He’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

“We’ve had each other’s backs since middle school and have been through some crazy stuff together. But there’s nothing I, or anyone else, can do to help him through this painful situation with Laney.”

Just like Tyler had been forced to stand on the sidelines, helplessly watching Wade battle the demons that chased him after his breakup with Miranda. He knew from experience he couldn’t take away Tyler’s pain or beat back the monsters for him, but that didn’t keep him from wishing like hell there was something he could do. “I feel like I’m somehow letting him down. Like there’s something I should be doing, but I’m not.”

Well, hell. When did he become a jibber-jabber, sharing his personal crap with a stranger?

The thing was Callie didn’t seem like a stranger anymore. He was also having a hard time remembering she was the same person who’d treated him like shit the first time they worked together, and the more time they spent together, the more intrigued he became with this Callie. He was curious about her painted furniture pieces, and he wanted to share parts of his world with her. And he really wanted to spend some time fulfilling fantasies that involved expanding her boundaries and introducing her to lots of new things.

Okay, case closed. While out tonight, he needed to find someone to take the edge off his libido and get these crazy thoughts under control.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, a large piece of his soul balked at the plan. He’d gotten into these troubled waters because the nameless-faceless-mindless-fucking lifestyle wasn’t doing anything for him anymore, and he’d recently taken on the role of a celibate. Truth was that lifestyle hadn’t ever done much, except keep his mind and body occupied so he didn’t spend too much time dwelling on the past.

Recently, his soul had started sending out distress signals, demanding he find a new plan. Something that involved less sloppy sex and more emotional, personal connections. The whole prospect scared the hell out of him, and he’d been fighting the idea for months. And as he looked at Callie and imagined sloppy sex
with
an emotional, personal connection, panic flooded his system.

Any involvement would only lead to heartache—hers, not his because he refused to get
that
involved—and Kevin would fillet him alive if he screwed Callie over. Surprisingly enough, though, it wasn’t the dread of disappointing Kevin that strengthened his resolve to get himself under control and keep things platonic. It was his concern for Callie and this newfound whacked-out image of her as a rare gem that needed protection from his tarnished reputation and less-than-stellar past.

A friendship with Callie was fine. A friends-with-benefits friendship was not.