You're Still the One (16 page)

But he didn’t say anything else. Didn’t elaborate on what was so important that he’d stormed over and interrupted her pleasant conversation. No words about why he’d pulled her down the hall like a caveman. He just shifted his weight, looking a bit lost, and a swell of amusement rose in Ella’s chest.

Charlie Tucker was rattled. By
her,
of all people
.

Well, hell’s bells.

Clearing his throat, he glanced out the window. “The sun’s going down.” His tone was distracted as he clearly searched for a viable answer for his behavior, and a second later, his mouth twitched. He turned back, the picture of confidence again.

“We’re both wearing our suits,” he remarked, and she narrowed her eyes, trying to find his angle. “If we’re gonna take a dip in the water, we should do it before it gets too late. We don’t want you getting sick again.”

Arabella’s nod was slow and amused.
Right
. That was the reason he’d dragged her away from another man…to go swimming. Uh-huh. And she had oceanfront property in Idaho for sale.

There was a huge part of her that wanted to call him out on the fib, make him own up to his obvious jealousy. See if he was feeling even a tenth of what she’d felt earlier, seeing him talking to those other women. But another part—the rest of her, really—decided to let it slide. She didn’t need for Charlie to admit why he’d wanted her company. They both knew the truth.

Smiling freely now, no longer able to hide her joy, Arabella curved her hand against his stubbled cheek. She always did prefer a man with scruff. “Ready when you are, Tucker.”

Chapter Fourteen

What in the hell am I doing?

Charlie breathed deeply, in through his nose, out through his mouth, as his feet traversed the distance between Cane’s porch and the emptying backyard pool. Overhead, the sun was setting low in the sky, bathing the land and bordering bayou in a wash of orange and pink, and the huge crowd was streaming through the wrought iron gate, eager to catch the best spot on the grass to watch the impending fireworks.

Cane’s property sat in the middle of three acres, and last year the partygoers spread wide, covering the ground like a checkerboard with their bright picnic blankets and lawn chairs. Food was rerouted, music kicked on, and, while everyone waited for the pyrotechnic display to start, kids zapped in and around the snoozing group, laughing as they chased one another. The entire day was a blast, the show was impressive, and having the local fire captain as a brother-in-law certainly didn’t hurt things.

Nodding hello to a couple headed in the opposite direction—
away
from the pool and
toward
the gate—Charlie popped his knuckles at his side.

This was such a bad idea. Bad on an epic scale.

But it was also sort of genius.

With the neighbors off doing their thing, oohing and aahing over the fireworks, the backyard would be empty for at least a solid hour. Which meant Charlie and Arabella would have it all to themselves. Another private pool, with wet limbs touching and Arabella’s soft lips just begging to be kissed…and Charlie’s body already raring for round two. The difference was that this time no one would interrupt.

Yup, this was a recipe for unmitigated disaster, and with the hot sting of jealousy currently roiling in his gut, demanding he lay claim to what was
his
, the smart thing for Charlie to do would be to turn tail and run before they breached the point of no return.

Don’t push too far, Tucker. Remember, she’s not for you.

See, even his conscience knew better than to suggest bailing. Completely walking away wasn’t an option anymore. The attraction was too strong. The oppressive Louisiana heat boiled his blood just enough to make dangerous ideas seem possible.

“It’s a beautiful night.” Arabella was a low whispered voice behind him, and when Charlie turned it was in time to watch her cover-up fall to the ground.

Sweet Jesus.
The dress she’d worn all day had been typical Arabella, classy and feminine. She’d looked beautiful as always, so much so that it hadn’t been a shocker to find another guy hanging on her with drool on his chin. But the swimsuit hidden beneath the simple dress almost dropped Charlie to his knees.

The two-piece was emerald green, a spectacular color set against her olive skin that made those doe eyes pop. It was vintage in style, like everything she owned, and the bottom consisted of more fabric than half the women’s shorts today, but it cupped her hips and thighs in a way that his hands itched to replicate. And the swimsuit’s top… Charlie swallowed thickly. Arabella’s small, high breasts were lifted in a mouthwatering display of cleavage that was a feast for the eyes.

She looked seductive and innocent and, good God
,
she was trying to kill him.

Charlie was moving before he even realized it, walking in a lust-filled daze toward her. But then, his feelings were more complicated than simple lust…and that was the problem.

“You take my breath away.” The line was cliché, like a lyric from some lame power ballad, but for the first time in his life, Charlie understood the meaning. Arabella’s eyes latched onto his, and her chest rose and fell as her pink lips parted in an exhale and, for a moment, he legitimately forgot his own name.

Arabella made his chest ache with want. She made him forget everything in the world other than how it felt to hold her in his arms. How their bodies aligned, her height allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder if she wanted to. Or stare into his eyes if and when he kissed her.

Right now, he wasn’t thinking about the many reasons why he shouldn’t want that, why he didn’t deserve her or why it would be so wrong to reach out and slide his hand along the gentle curve of her waist. No, Charlie forgot all those things, so when his palm grazed across her petal-soft skin, and Arabella’s gasp hit his ears, he also forgot why it was wrong, so very wrong, to act on his needs.

Lowering his head, he breathed in her floral fragrance and closed his eyes.

“Baby girl, you destroy me,” he whispered against her lips. “You have to tell me if you don’t want this, because I’m holding on by a thread.”

“Then let go,” she whispered in reply, and when he opened his eyes he saw nothing but mirrored desire. That frayed thread snapped in two, and he nearly growled as fierce need detonated in his veins. The devil himself couldn’t stop him from taking a taste.

He stroked his lips over hers, promising himself that was all it would be, one taste, and it was perfect, like a dusting of sugar. But then her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, catching his in the process, and he was done for. He swooped in to steal a second, and was rewarded by a soft pant of a sigh. Music to his ears.

The summer air sat heavy on his shoulders, smelling faintly of barbecue, but the flavor on his tongue was pure Arabella. He groaned at her sugar-spun sweetness, wanting to get drunk on her even as he told himself to stand down. This couldn’t go on any further than a kiss; they were already on shaky ground.

But then her shy little tongue got in the mix, flicking across his bottom lip and inspiring visions of him grabbing her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and pressing her hard against the patio wall. Instead, he settled on plunging his tongue into the cavern of her mouth, and nearly let out a caveman roar when she clutched his shoulders in a moan.

Spearing his hand through Arabella’s hair, Charlie tilted her head to give him better access. The heat of her body bled through the cotton of his shirt, and he damned the fabric for separating him from her skin. His chest tingled, remembering how she’d felt sliding and grazing against him during their water play, and he wrapped his arm around her, clutching her tightly. He couldn’t get close enough.

Slow it down,
an inner voice warned, but he stuffed that shit away. He knew exactly where he was, who he was kissing, and that this was all he’d ever get, a stolen kiss, so Charlie had every intention of making it count. Warning bells be damned.

“Charlie…” Arabella breathed his name as her head fell back, and his mouth plundered the graceful column of her throat. Satisfaction tore down his spine, and hell if the sound of his name on her lips didn’t turn him on even more.

Her short nails dug into his back, bunching the fabric of his shirt in her fists, and Charlie reached back with one hand to rip it over his head. When her warm skin finally pressed against his own, they shared a hiss.

“Tell me what you want,” he said between nips, sucks, and licks along her neck. He ducked lower and ran his tongue along the sexy indention of her collarbone. “You want me to stop?”

“
No
. God, no.” She clutched at his shoulders like she’d sink to the ground if he didn’t support her, and Charlie slid his knee between her thighs.
Better to hold her up.
But then she sank down and ground against him, and stars flashed behind his eyes. “I-I just…holy hell, you feel so
good.
”

No man in the history of the world could stop after that. Not happening. Not that Charlie ever wanted to, which was probably why he should’ve.

This wasn’t him. He didn’t lose control in public, with a hundred friends and neighbors fifty scant yards away. He didn’t seduce kind women who deserved better. And he definitely didn’t let himself wonder what it would be like to hear the same soft voice whispering his name over and over with the knowledge that she was
his
.

But dammit if he wasn’t doing all three right now.

A low hum, followed by a sharp
screech
of feedback, and Cane’s voice floating over speakers cut through the thick haze of desire. Charlie’s hand stilled on Arabella’s bathing suit strap. As their host went on beyond the fence, thanking everyone for coming to the party, Charlie drew a deep breath and inhaled a sobering dose of clarity.

What in the hell was happening? Had he seriously been about to tear off her clothes out here in the open? And, if not, where else did he think this would lead? That hadn’t been a simple taste…he’d very nearly devoured her. As it was, her eyes were glassy, her lips kiss-swollen, and pink marks from his scruff marred her perfect skin. From the confused way her eyes were locked on his, Charlie knew he wouldn’t have been the one paying the price for their mistake, either. It’d be Arabella.

Arabella, who saw the good in everyone. Arabella, who smiled at sunrays and called them glimpses of heaven. The woman who cooked him meals, and kicked his ass at video games, and worked tirelessly for his foundation. His tenant, his coworker, his
friend
…and his boss’s daughter. The woman who still didn’t know the whole truth.

Breathing hard, Charlie fought for control as he pressed his forehead against hers. Arabella’s eyes shifted back and forth between each of his and her soft hands coasted across the strained muscles of his back, trying to soothe him.
Christ.
Wasn’t that the true picture of their situation? There he stood, threatening to destroy her heart and her future because he certainly couldn’t offer her one, not while out on the road, and she was comforting him.

If that wasn’t a sign of how unworthy he was of her, he didn’t know what was.

But as much of a mistake as the kiss had been, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not while he still held her in his arms, and probably not ever. But it couldn’t happen again, either.

The two of them were nothing but a runaway train headed straight to ruin, and that’s what a relationship with him and the resulting media circus would do to this amazing woman. Ruin her.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was laced with concern, but her face told the true story. It was pinched tight, eyes narrowed and filled with insecurity, and if it was possible, he felt like an even bigger ass than before. This beautiful creature had no clue how incredible she was, and he refused to let her think anything about this was on her.

“Nothing,” Charlie told her, standing tall and softly running his hands down her arms. “Nothing’s wrong, sweet girl. This is on me. I got carried away.” She bit the corner of her swollen lip, and the need to mimic the gesture propelled him to add, “This can’t happen again.”

“Can’t?” she asked, swallowing visibly. “Or won’t?”

“Both.” He gave her a halfhearted smile. “I’m your boss at Strange Wheel, Arabella.
My
boss happens to be your dad. And you’re also my tenant for the summer. All around this is just a bad idea.”

Hurt flashed in her wide brown eyes, and the slight sheen of tears had panic filling his chest. Quickly, he cupped her pretty face between his palms. “I won’t treat you like one of my girls, Arabella. I respect you too much.”

She bit the corner of her lip, nodding but clearly not believing, and desperation clawed his chest. He had to make her see she was better off without him. “Don’t misunderstand. I want you bad, baby, but you’re good. So damn good. You deserve more than a sweaty night in my bed, and that’s all I can offer you. All I can offer anyone.”

Maybe it wouldn’t be if he weren’t a musician who spent half his life on the road. Maybe then they could’ve seen where this attraction led. But then, Charlie being a musician was how they met in the first place, and constant travel came with the job. After what had happened with Abby, he refused to leave behind anyone else who counted on him.

Charlie stared into her eyes, begging her to understand, and praying to God that those tears never fell because if they did, he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions. Any woman crying would hit him hard, but a woman he was falling for—?

Whoa.
He stopped the thought short with a jerk. Falling for? That wasn’t what this was. Crazy attraction, obviously. True respect and needed friendship, definitely. But love had nothing to do with it. Charlie doubted he was capable of the emotion. He’d seen the real thing up close with his parents and his sisters’ marriages, and he honestly didn’t know if he had that kind of commitment in him beyond the band. And Arabella was not the type of woman you experimented on.

After a long, drawn-out moment of Charlie desperately wishing he could read women’s minds, she finally gave him a small smile. It didn’t reach her now-dry eyes, but at this point, he’d take it.

“I understand.” She took a deep breath and let it out again. “Friendship is better anyway.”

Charlie wasn’t so sure he agreed with the
better
part—maybe for her—but then Arabella’s smile widened, and a tiny crescent-shaped dimple appeared in her cheek. It was like the sun had reappeared.

“What?” he asked, shaking his head slightly.

She touched her lips with her fingertips. “I guess I can cross another item from the list.”

He raised an eyebrow, astounded by her ability to recall anything of importance in this moment. His brain was a pile of mush. “Oh yeah? Which one?”

She glanced at his mouth. “Experiencing an
epic
, toe-curling kiss.”

Pride ripped through him, knowing that he’d given her that, and the joy, amusement, and
yes
, lingering heat in her gaze had him seriously considering the potential fallout of an encore. Just to make sure the item was truly crossed off. But in the end, it was the unlikelihood of being able to stop once he got his lips on hers again that kept him from suggesting it.

But toe-curling kiss? Consider his digits twisted.