Breathless Descent

Shock slid over her face. “Don’t even go there, Caleb,” she warned fiercely.

Kent snorted. “Oh, yeah. Those damn jeans.”

“Don’t you go there either, Kent,” Shay warned. “Or I won’t set you up on that blind date with Anna you’ve been begging for.”

Bob chuckled. “Then I guess I’ll have to go there for all of us. Why in the world, my little Shay, did you put the jeans in the oven in the first place? Just make me understand. I’ve always wanted to understand.”

“I’ve answered this question a million times,” she said, her pretty, naturally pink lips pursed in frustration. “I was sixteen when I did that. Sixteen! I’m twenty-eight years old and, I might add, a licensed psychologist who counsels people about the trauma of bad memories. In case you didn’t know, Daddy, this is a bad memory.”

“The dryer was broken,” Caleb answered, when unnecessary guilt flashed on Bob’s face. No matter how upset Shay acted, she ate up the teasing. And he loved watching her cheeks flush, her eyes light up. “She needed her best jeans for a party.” He’d liked those jeans. Liked them too much, considering she’d been sixteen and he’d been nineteen, about to move into campus housing at the University of Texas. Too old for her. Not that he’d ever be the right age for her. But at the time, he’d been damn glad she wasn’t prancing around in those damn tight jeans anymore, inviting hound-dog teen boys to salivate.

Shay shot him a scorching look that wiped the smile from his face. He was pretty sure she would have smacked him otherwise.

Sharon sighed. “Men just don’t understand how important the perfect jeans are to a female,” she said, defending her daughter. “It really was a smart idea, using the oven. It was like a sauna drying room. I think it showed initiative and innovation.”

Exasperated, Bob’s eyes went wide. “Since when is burning down the kitchen called innovation?”

“How many experiments do you think Thomas Edison tried that went wrong?” Sharon countered protectively.

“What was she trying to create?” Bob replied. “The fastest way to destroy her parents’ house?”

“Maybe if you would have put them on warm, not broil, Shay-Shay,” Kent offered, sipping a beer. “Your va-voom might not have gone ka-boom.” He eyed Caleb. “What do you think, Caleb?”

“I didn’t put them on broil!” Shay spat, before Caleb could reply, as she shoved her hands on her hips. The towel fell to her waist, and Caleb gulped at the sight of her high, ample breasts, covered by nothing but thin slices of cloth. “I left them on warm when I went to shower. How was I to know they’d go up in flames?” She clutched the towel and waved a hand between Kent and Caleb. “And how is it that every time you two get together, I’m reduced from grown adult to defensive teenager?”

Kent grinned. “It’s a gift.”

She huffed. “I’ve got a gift for you, Kent,” she said. “And her name isn’t Anna.” Her gaze cut back to Caleb. “I know what you just did, and it won’t work. Two can play your game, Caleb Martin. You remember that.”

She turned on her heel, strutted back to the pool and then let go of the towel. It slid to the pavement, her pert, heart-shaped backside displayed for Caleb’s admiration. Caleb silently groaned. The only game he was going to play was the one called “cold shower.” Correction, by the time this party was over, the game would be called “long cold shower.”

2

CALEB HAD BEEN AWAY a long time, but the game of horseshoes as a family had endured. Caleb tipped back a beer as he watched Kent make a toss. There were a good seven or eight guys standing around playing. All family and friends. Some Caleb knew. Some…well, he’d been away a long time.

Bob let out a loud bark of laughter as Kent’s shot landed about as close to the target as Caleb was to pretending he didn’t know every move Shay made today. Until a few minutes ago, she’d been in the pool, supervising the kids and entertaining them. Sweet, adorable Shay, always generous with her time helping others.

He hadn’t been surprised on a visit home years before to discover Shay had started volunteering at her college counseling center, or that the work at the center had led to her changing her major from business to psychology. She’d always had a thing for taking in every stray animal in her path. Kind of like her family had been with him. They had done everything in their power to make him feel he was whole again after losing his parents, as if he belonged. The Army had given him a sense of belonging, but not a sense of family…the way the Whites had.

“Were you aiming for the driveway out front or what, Kent?” Bob asked, and Kent buried his face in his hands, cursing at his truly horrific shot. Kent never handled his beer well. And having been away, Caleb had missed just how true, and entertaining, that fact was. He’d missed a lot of things he’d pretended he didn’t miss, that he thought he could do without.

Bob’s comment snapped Caleb back to the moment.

Kent glowered and held his hands to his sides in challenge. “You gonna rag on me, too?”

“Nah, man,” Caleb said innocently. “I think you know how bad that shot was without me pointing it out.”

Rick Jensen, Kent’s buddy who’d joined them for the day, added, “You do give new meaning to the saying ‘Just Do It.’” As doctor for the University of Texas baseball team, Rick apparently subscribed to Kent’s habit of Nike phrase dropping.

“Don’t even go there, Rickster,” Kent said, grabbing his beer from the ground where he’d left it. “We both know you don’t know the meaning of ‘Just Do It,’ or you would have at least asked Shay out by now. We’d all like her to find a nice guy like you to take care of her, rather than some hound dog.”

Caleb wasn’t sure whose jaw dropped closest to the ground—Rick’s, Bob’s or his own. It was a pretty close race. “Damn it, Kent,” Rick muttered, looking pale despite his tanned skin and blond hair. “Why can’t you ever keep your mouth shut?”

“Shutting his mouth isn’t something he excels at,” Bob said dryly. “They didn’t even have to smack that boy’s ass when he was born to get him squealing.”

Shay and her love life shouldn’t matter to Caleb, so why was every nerve he owned standing on end? Hell, he could almost feel the hair on his arms lifting, his skin tingling.

“You keep waiting for a sign,” Kent continued to Rick, as if his father’s explanation were a license to continue. “There won’t be a sign. Shay’s a traditional kind of woman. She doesn’t flirt. She doesn’t come to you. You go to her. You have to get over these nerves.”

Rick didn’t look convinced, as he opened his mouth and then shut it.

Bob studied him and asked, “What seems to be bothering you, son?”

His question stiffened Caleb’s spine. Bob liked this guy Rick. Hell, Caleb liked Rick. No. Caleb hated Rick.

“She’s friendly,” Rick said after another moment of hesitation. “But not overly so. I don’t want everyone to feel uncomfortable if I’m around after she’s turned me down.” He laughed. “Or have Kent beat up my ass because I make her mad or something.”

There it was. Everything Caleb felt. Everything. So completely, so near exactness, that Caleb about fell over. And Rick didn’t call these people family. He had his own. The validation twisted inside him.

“For the record,” Kent said, “my sister’s a lady, but she don’t take no junk. She’ll beat your ass if you screw up. She doesn’t need me to do it. But you have to actually ask her out to ever get the chance for anyone to beat your ass.”

“And I so want that opportunity,” Rick quipped back sardonically. “You aren’t helping.”

A sound of frustration slid from Kent’s lips, and he motioned to Caleb for help. “Tell ’em, Caleb. Tell Rick if he wants Shay, he has to go after her.” He motioned toward the tables of food set up on the opposite side of the yard where Shay stood.

Thankfully, she’d covered her swimsuit with a crocheted shirt of some sort that touched her knees, which at least allowed Caleb to look at her without getting an instant hard-on. Man, he was pathetic.

“Do it. Now. Today. Ask her out,” Kent insisted.

Suddenly, Kent’s words from moments before radiated through Caleb, like a light being slowly turned from dim to bright. She doesn’t come to you. Shay didn’t approach men. Kent was right. But she had approached him. In the past. And even today, she’d openly flirted, hugged him, held on to him, molding those sweet curves against his body, intentionally teasing him. Maybe that meant she really wanted him. Or maybe it meant she had an evil side he didn’t recognize—that she enjoyed taunting him, knowing he’d never dare act on his desire. Believing her capable of such a thing would make it easy to walk away, easy to turn away. But deep down, he knew there was no evil to Shay. He knew they shared a bond, a friendship and attraction.

“…like the present. Right, Caleb?”

“Right what?”

“There’s no time like the present,” Kent repeated and made a fist. “Just do it, Rick.”

Caleb inhaled a discreet breath and lifted his beer. “No time like the present. If you are going to do it, do it.” Right here, right now, where Caleb could kick Rick’s Doctor-Do-Gooder, nice-guy ass if he stepped out of line. Which he wouldn’t. He was, after all, a nice guy, but Caleb could hope.

A flickering memory played in his mind. Of Shay pushing to her toes and pressing those soft lips to his. Of her tentative, inexperienced little tongue caressing his. He all but moaned.

“You heard the man,” Kent said, waving at Rick. “Just do it, man.”

Rick drew a breath and handed Caleb his beer. “Save that for me. I might be needing it.”

Rick could kiss Caleb’s ass if he thought he was getting his beer back. He wasn’t giving Rick anything. Well, nothing but the woman he wanted and couldn’t have. No. Rick was not getting his beer.

SHAY STOOD AT the food tables snacking on a plate of cucumbers and ranch dressing, a comfort food since she was a small child. She didn’t dare look over at the horseshoe area again. She’d seen enough there to know she didn’t need to see any more. Her plan to kiss Caleb again was hereby over. Watching him interact with Kent and her father, along with the rest of their family and friends, had been a reality check. Every second he was here, Caleb relaxed more, fell into the old traditions and inside jokes.

He belonged here, yet he’d stayed away. And she knew why. Because of her. Because she’d kissed him and made him feel uncomfortable. Because he didn’t believe they could share an attraction and a family. Which meant her plan to kiss him again, while tempting and all too appealing, was selfish. Wrong.

“Hi, Shay.”

Shay jumped and somehow managed to turn the paper plate over and onto Rick’s shirt. In the process, one of the cucumber slices flew in the air and landed on his head. She’d just turned one of Kent’s work friends into a kitchen sink.

“Oh, my God! Rick. I’m so sorry!” Cringing, she grabbed the cucumber from his head and flung it away, then tossed the paper plate into a trash can. Ranch dip clung to his shirt. “I can’t believe I just did that. I was thinking about… I…I’m sorry.” Shay grabbed several napkins and offered them to him.

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling as he wiped the mess on the front of him. “Though it kind of blows the cool-guy image I was going for.”

She laughed and said, “You can always judge a guy’s coolness by how he handles a plate of cucumbers and ranch dip spilled on his shirt. And considering you don’t seem mad at me, you passed with absolute coolness.”

He drew a breath. “Then I’m hoping this is a cool enough moment to ask you out to dinner and a movie.”

“A…a…?” Yowza, she had not seen that coming. She’d never really had a conversation with him. “Dinner and a movie? I…I don’t know what to say.”

“How about yes?” he asked hopefully, looking remarkably awkward for a guy who seemed to have plenty of reasons to be confident. He was a good-looking guy, with dark hair and dark eyes and a shy smile. He was a doctor, for a professional sports team to boot. They’d have stuff to talk about. Stuff. Patients. The physical manifestations of stress.

So why didn’t she just say yes? Caleb. Caleb was why. Caleb. Caleb. Caleb. Caleb, who was off-limits. Caleb, whom she had no business pining over. Say yes, she told herself.

Instead she said, “I don’t want to risk coming between you and Kent. He’s very protective.”

“Oh, he knows,” Rick said quickly. “So do your father and Caleb. I would never dream of approaching you without talking to your family, considering the friendship.”

Her heart thundered in her ears. For a moment, she was that teen girl with a crush on the boy who didn’t want her, on the boy who’d say she was too young. She was so tired of being that girl with Caleb. She’d pined for this man for a ridiculous lifetime only to have him handing her off like a hot potato, once again.

“Caleb?” she asked. “Caleb knew you were asking me out?” She didn’t wait for an answer, and she didn’t have to for the truth to find her.

She whirled to face the horseshoe area, to zoom in on Caleb, who lazily lounged against the old oak tree. His gaze locked on her with Rick, yet he was too far away for Shay to read him. But she didn’t have to. She felt him in every pore of her body, and she didn’t want to. Not anymore. She wanted to get him out of her mind, out of her life, out of her head. And damn it, he seemed to think Rick was a good match for her. Maybe she should think so, too. Her chin lifted in defiance, ignoring the pinch of hurt in the center of her chest threatening to expand.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Rick said. “I thought Caleb was like your other brother. Kent said…”

“He is,” Shay said, turning her attention back to Rick. “Caleb is my other brother. I’m just not used to him being around anymore.” She studied Rick. Damn it, he was good-looking and a nice guy. She was crazy to ignore him. Besides, she needed someone to kiss. Someone who wasn’t Caleb. Someone who could knock some sense into her head.

She cast Rick a beaming smile, praying it looked at least a little sincere, and wrapped her arm around his. “Why don’t we go inside and see if I can dig you up a shirt to wear that isn’t smeared with ranch dip.”

His eyes lit up, his hand sliding over hers where it rested on his arm. The small talk started on the walk to the house and she tried to listen. But all she could think about was the tingling sensation of being watched. By him. By Caleb. Probably all too happy right about now. He’d gotten his way. She was walking away with another man.

THE INSTANT SHE SLIPPED her arm around Rick’s and started marching toward the house, betrayal ripped through Caleb. As if she were one of his fellow Aces, a trusted friend who’d reached over and pulled his weapon from the holster and shot him with it. That was how personal the blow; how bitter the bite. Which was insanity. Shay owed him nothing. He had no rights to her, no claim.

Caleb tipped up his beer and drank. Then he did the same with Rick’s. Maybe for the first time in years, he’d get wasted. Completely flipping wasted. He glanced at Sharon, who was now standing with Bob, smiling up at him…oh, so happy. Okay. “Wasted” wasn’t an option. At least not here. Not now.

He watched one of Bob’s brothers toss a horseshoe. He was a good guy named Mickey, who had always made Caleb feel like genuine, blood-related family. This was his family. Shay was his family. He took another drink. This time the beer was hot and bitter, like the feeling welling inside him.

Kent took another shot and missed. Mickey and Bob cracked jokes. Kent headed toward Caleb. “Go ahead and crack your joke. Get it over with now.”

Caleb barely heard Kent, despite Kent getting up close and personal. He was thinking about Shay. About the look on Shay’s face just before she’d turned away from him. The defiance etched in her delicate features flashed in Caleb’s mind, followed by the image of her walking arm-in-arm with Rick. She was trying to make him jealous. Or trying to spite him.

Caleb glanced at Kent and shoved the beers in his hands. “You’ve never been a good shot when you’re sober. Drink up. I’ll go for more.”

Before Kent could respond, Caleb started walking, his fingers curling into his palms by his sides. He’d played this cat-and-mouse game with Shay for too long. She could have whatever man she wanted, but not like this, not because of him, to get to him. At least, that’s what he told himself so he could ignore the twist of jealousy inside him.

He cut into the house, through the patio door and then ground his teeth when Shay and Rick were nowhere to be seen—and neither was anyone else, for that matter. Everyone was outside, socializing, having fun, allowing Shay the empty house to be with Rick. He crossed the room, possessiveness just beneath the surface, though he preferred to call it protectiveness.

The sound of Shay’s laughter fluttered down a hallway—that damn angelic laugh that had driven him wild a good half of his life, now velvety with a distinct hint of flirtation. A few more steps, and a lot more of that protectiveness ground a path along his nerve endings.

The laughter floated closer, along with the soft muffled sound of Shay’s voice. Caleb stopped dead in his tracks. The sound was coming from Shay’s old bedroom. Oh, hell, no. This wasn’t happening. Caleb charged forward, on edge and ready for war. He rounded the corner to the room, door open, to find Rick sitting on Shay’s bed.

“Almost ready,” Shay called out softly from the closet.

Caleb didn’t want to know what she was ready for. Anger spiked inside him. His years of combat were the only thing that kept him outwardly in check when inside he was raging, a distinct tick in his jaw pulsing.

Rick’s gaze was riveted to the doorway as if he sensed the crackle suddenly in the air. And apparently he didn’t like what he saw in Caleb’s face. He paled and jumped to his feet.

“Leave now,” Caleb said before Rick could speak, his voice low and even.

Rick was already headed to the door.

“Okay, I found a shirt,” Shay said, walking out of the closet. She was still dressed in the cover-up that seemed far more skimpy up close than it had across the lawn.

“Caleb?” she said, surprised. “What’s going on? Rick! Wait. You need the shirt.”

“Rick was just leaving,” Caleb said, ignoring the T-shirt in her hand. “He has his own shirt.”

Rick stopped in front of Caleb out of necessity. Caleb was blocking his way. “It’s best you call it a day,” Caleb said thickly.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Rick said. “I—”

“I don’t care,” Caleb said shortly. “Don’t want to know.”

“Caleb!” Shay objected. “Stop acting like a brute. Rick, don’t go.” Rick didn’t look at her.

Caleb stepped aside. “Goodbye, Rick.”

And just like that, Rick was gone. Shay shoved her hands onto her hips and glared. “What the heck do you think you are doing, Caleb?”

He shut the door, the scent of citrus and honey flaring in his nostrils. Shay’s scent, for as long as he could remember. It breathed in the room like a living thing. Just as the lust and tension between them had for far too long now. It was time to deal with it, once and for all.

Caleb leaned against the door, arms in front of his chest, one booted foot over the next. “We need to talk.”

3

CALEB COULD SEE the firestorm coming. Shay’s eyes darkened and pink rushed across the delicate ivory of her skin—both sure signs she was in fighting mode. He had a knack for bringing it out in her. Had intentionally drawn her right to this hot little spot of temper as he had so many times in the past. As a defense, a distraction. Anything to fight the forbidden, sizzling-hot attraction that had always existed between them.

“Talk,” Shay repeated, starting to walk toward him. “I’ve not heard a word from you in the two months you’ve been home, and now you want to talk. Because you’re ready. All the times I was ready, you tucked tail and ran.”

“I’m not running now, Shay,” he said, not denying the truth. He had run. Run and hoped they’d outgrown the adolescent infatuation they’d shared. But it had matured as they had, turned dangerous in its demand. “I’m here. I’m ready. Let’s talk.” It was long overdue and he knew it.

“Well, I’m not ready.” She stopped in front of him, impatiently waving him aside. “You might as well move away from in front of the door, Caleb. The only person I’m going to talk to right now is Rick. You scared the man half to death with that ‘lethal soldier’ act of yours. That was rude and it was wrong.”

“Rude was visiting the daughter of the party’s host in her bedroom,” he said. “Rick deserves to be scared.”

“You’re in my room,” she pointed out. “What does that say about you?”

“I belong here. Rick doesn’t.”

“I decide who belongs in my room,” she said and held up a finger to stop his objections. “It’s still my room, whether I live here or not. And unlike you, Rick was invited.” She slapped the shirt in her hand against Caleb’s chest, and he reached up and caught it as she added, “He needed a shirt. Too bad I didn’t spill my plate on you instead of him.”

He started to toss the shirt, and his gaze caught on the University of Texas championship logo. “Wait one damn minute.” His eyes jerked to hers. “This is my shirt,” he said, then added, incredulously, “You were giving him my shirt.”

“My shirt,” she declared, hands on her scantily clad hips.

“That you stole from me the year I moved into this house to sleep in and never gave back. You know damn well you were giving him that shirt to piss me off.”

She snatched the shirt right back from him and tossed it over her shoulder. “It was convenient. Like you shoving Rick in my direction because you couldn’t handle being in close quarters with me.”

“I’d say I’m pretty damn close right now.” Close enough to see the sprinkle of light brown freckles on her nose that she hated and he loved. Close enough to touch her. “And I had nothing to do with Rick, besides kicking him out of here. The date thing came from Kent and your father.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Rick sure didn’t see it that way.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t there when Rick was pining over you,” he agreed. “But you know damn well I couldn’t say anything without drawing questions.”

“Right,” she said smartly. “We wouldn’t want to draw any questions. Better everyone think we’ve decided we don’t like each other than dare believe we want to jump each other’s bones.”

“Touchy, touchy,” he chided. “See. I knew you were pissed at me. Exactly why I wasn’t going to risk you using Rick to get back at me.”

“You sure are full of yourself, Caleb Martin,” she roared back. “It takes a lot of arrogance to assume I only wanted Rick to get back at you.”

“You did just say you wanted to jump my bones,” he pointed out, teasing her despite himself. It was second nature, a part of what he’d always done to her, with her. It was also going to get him in deeper water, but then, with Shay, he was damn near always drowning anyway. “I said we, not I, and I was only making a point and you know it.”

“Anger works like alcohol on you,” he said. “It makes you say what you really feel. And anger, directed at me, makes you do things you normally wouldn’t do. Not only were you giving Rick my shirt, you were alone with him in a bedroom at your conservative parents’ house. That’s not you and you know it.”

Her eyes flashed. “How would you know what is or isn’t me, Caleb?” She poked his chest, her body barely a hairbreadth from his. “The few times you came into town over the past ten years, we both hoped we’d have outgrown the past. When we hadn’t, instead of dealing with it and talking to me, you avoided me like the plague. Like that somehow made it all go away, but really it was just you that went away. Well, it’s not going to work now that you’re home, Caleb. Kent, Mom and Dad are going to start asking questions about the tension between us.”

Her eyes pierced his, her glare packed with challenge. “And you know what else isn’t working? You pretending that dumb ten-year-old kiss didn’t happen, and then looking at me like you want to kiss me again. It’s ticking me off.” She poked his chest again. “Bad.”