Chapter 12 #2
“Cats out of the bag, honey.” Fiona raised her glass to me. “It’s your turn for the focus of this little crew to be on your love life.”
“Sex life,” I corrected. “Unlike any of you,” I waved my glass, “this isn’t a happily ever after, it’s a fuck. That’s it.”
I pushed my chair back, sending it falling onto the grass and not bothering to pick it up. My eyes zoomed in on where Elliot was talking to the men, all smiles while taking the beer my brother offered.
“Me and you will be having words.” I jabbed my finger at Kip threateningly, and he had the gall to fucking smirk.
“And me and you are going to have a conversation.” I redirected my ire at the now beaming Elliot. I ignored the way that smile lit up my whole body and kept my lips in a thin line. “Beach. Now.”
I quickly turned, stomping down the walkway to the beach, knowing that Elliot was going to follow me. I didn’t look back until the soft crash of the waves drowned out the hum of conversation and the sounds of my nieces playing.
Of course, Elliot had followed me. All it took was a quick glance to where Rowan and Nora’s backyard backed onto the coast to see more than half of our little dinner party had gotten up from their seats to shamefully watch.
I huffed out a breath. So we had to do it with an audience. Which was good. It would keep me honest. Or at least in line with the lies I was trying to tell myself.
Initially, I’d intended to situate myself a respectable distance away from him, to communicate my intentions, or lack thereof.
Not surprisingly—infuriatingly yet also secretly lovely—Elliot hadn’t let that happen.
He’d followed me, taken one look at where I’d put myself in relation to him, then while keeping our eyes locked, he’d taken a deliberate step forward.
We were not a respectable distance apart.
We weren’t touching, but we were close. I could smell him, the breeze bringing on the briny smell of the ocean mixing deliciously with the depths of his scent.
Finally, I let myself look at Elliot. Really look at him. He looked good. Really good. My body responded to his presence in front of me, even as I cursed it.
He was giving me the same appraisal, eyes darting over the bodice of my floral sundress—not part of my uniform, but I’d thought since I was with family, that I could embrace my softer side. In terms of fashion, at least.
“You look fucking amazing,” he sucked in air.
My skin warmed at the simple compliment.
“What are you doing here?” I popped out a hip.
“You ordered me to the beach. Here I am,” he joked, deliberately misunderstanding me.
“Why are you at my brother’s house ?” I ground my teeth together.
He tilted his head in question, a slight challenge in his gaze. “Why were you at my brother’s house?”
I swallowed, my hands fisted at my sides because I had the most insane urge to run my fingers through his hair, pull him to me and taste his lips.
He’d been holding on to that question for a while, since we’d seen each other.
Since my visit. Granted, the last time we saw each other we were mostly fucking, aside from talking about his dead mother.
“I was dropping off a cake,” I shrugged tersely. “I hardly stopped by for tea.”
He nodded. “Except you did. Have tea, that is.”
Fuck.
Again, what did I expect? For Beau not to tell his brother about my visit?
They seemed like a close family. Clara had taken a shine to me, which I secretly loved.
She was an impressive little girl, and I was honored to have spent time with her.
I’d merely figured that her transplant and the hospital stay that was required afterward would keep them distracted. Or maybe bored enough to talk about me.
“I had cups of pretend tea,” I clarified, as if the distinction was worth shit.
Elliot showed his teeth in a warm smile. “Clara does make the best air.”
My gaze snapped back to the lawn full of my family. “Ava may have her beat on that, but it’s close.”
“We’ll have to have a joint tea party, battle them against each other.”
My fingernails bit into my palms at the warmth in his tone, the way he casually made plans about intermingling our families. As if such an act wasn’t wrought with emotional landmines and otherwise just a bad fucking idea.
“Why are you here?” I repeated my earlier question, tone serious.
“Why were you at my brother’s house?” There was no change in the easy look on his face, voice still light.
My eyes held his as I blew out an exasperated huff. “I told you … to drop off a cake.” The words were said through gritted teeth.
“But you stayed for tea. Why?”
That was when I saw the depth that lingered underneath his casual demeanor, an intensity that unnerved the shit out of me.
For whatever reason, Elliot Shaw had me as more than a fuck, and it seemed that he’d be harder to shake off than your regular male.
Yet I didn’t want to shake him off.
“Because she asked,” I answered matter-of-factly, toeing the sand, because I was too much of a coward to maintain eye contact.
Which was a mistake, since it gave Elliot the opening to grasp onto my chin, tilting it up to face him.
My barricades instantly melted at his touch before my mind caught up, forcing my limbs to stiffen, eyes to narrow.
“That right there, Calliope Derrick, is why I’m here.” His voice was soft against the crashing waves. “Because your first instinct is to say yes to tea with a four-year-old. Because you called in favors to get that four-year-old a lifesaving procedure at what I guess was a great cost to yourself.”
My breath caught at how close to the truth he’d hit.
“Because your nieces adore you.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued.
“Your family wants you to be happy. Because you scare grown men and have tea with four-year-olds. Because your first instinct is to relax into my touch, to fucking unravel for me.” His gaze darkened with carnal knowing. “Which you’ll be doing later.”
A flood of arousal saturated my bloodstream and my panties.
“But for now, I came because Kip invited me, and likely to invite some of your ire because he’s a troublemaker, and he likes to watch shit happen. But I’m guessing also because he cares about you.”
“What does him caring about me have to do with him inviting you?” I was genuinely confused.
He smiled. “Because he may have the distinct impression that I’m good for you. Or that you deserve the goodness that this promises.” He grasped my chin tighter.
My entire body trembled under his touch, at his words. Not because of my libido—which was crackling—but due to the emotional fucking earthquake he’d unleashed.
I felt my fucking lip trembling as we stood there, him grasping on to me, the ocean crashing behind us.
I couldn’t go into yet another debate about how I wasn’t good, couldn’t spew another warning he’d ignore. Honestly, I was tired. It felt too much like a soap opera.
“I’m going to fight for this, Calliope,” he continued. “For you.”
“You don’t know me well enough to want to fight for me,” I groaned. “And you certainly don’t know me well enough if you think you can go up against me in any kind of fight and win.”
I was trying to inject my words with the trademark snark and confidence that was second nature to me, but the waves seemed to swallow all of that.
Elliot flashed me that damn smile again.
“You obviously don’t know me well enough if you think that I’m gonna give up easily.
” He leaned forward, so our lips almost brushed.
My body ached for it. “And maybe I don’t know you as well as I’d like to—something we’ll rectify soon—but I know myself.
And no woman has made me feel like you do.
Not a feeling that comes around often, so I think I’ll follow my bliss for a while.
” The grin widened. “Fight for my bliss, if need be. Even though I don’t like conflict, fighting with you has quickly become my favorite pastime.
” His eyes dipped to my chest, down my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“Second favorite pastime.” Sexual hunger dripped from the words.
My body screamed with need as my head shrieked with logic.
Unable to handle the noise anymore, I grabbed the back of Elliot’s head and crashed our lips together.
I caught the slight widening of surprise in his eyes the second before our lips brushed. He met my assault with his own kiss, tongue exploring my mouth, hands settling on my hips, bringing our bodies fully flush together.
The clamor in my head, all of it quieted with Elliot’s mouth on mine, his body pressed against my torso, his scent enveloping me.
The kiss lasted longer than it should’ve, considering it should’ve never even happened at all.
Worse than that, Elliot was the one who broke it. Without him, I might’ve just stood there, making out with him like a fucking teenager.
He kept a firm hold of me, smiling against my mouth.
“Missed that.” His eyes explored my face. “Missed you.”
My insides contracted. “I’m not yours to miss.”
“I don’t have to call you mine to miss you, Calliope.” He caressed my cheek with his knuckles. “And judging by that kiss, you missed me too.”
The cockiness in his tone irritated me.
And the fact that he was right.
Looking into the eyes of this handsome fisherman under the glow of his carefree smile, I got the impression that my life had gotten infinitely more complicated.
“You’re right.” With great effort, I pulled myself from his arms, and he let me.
Elliot’s eyes widened in surprise as he folded his arms. “I’m right?”
I nodded. “I missed you. Or more accurately your cock, since you’re the first man I’ve discovered in Jupiter who knows how to use it.”