“You’ll what?” She swatted his arm. She almost felt relieved. He was back to his relaxed self again. The way she preferred him. The way he was when he didn’t feel as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Along with two very sick kids.
He squinted. “It’s a bit bright in here, isn’t it?”
Her eyes swept around the unexplored apartment again. It was clear neither of their other colleagues had found their way here yet. She nodded and flicked the overhead light back off, plunging them back into darkness. She walked over and pulled the curtain at the window, which looked onto the rest of the industrial site. Dim light flooded through the kitchen. The moon was high in the dark sky outside and the external lights surrounding the buildings let a little more light into the room.
It was nice. Kind of private.
Sawyer flicked the switch on the kettle. “A coffee pot and some decent beans obviously weren’t on the inventory.”
“And that’ll be my fault, will it?” In the dim light Sawyer didn’t seem anywhere as near as intimidating as before.
Maybe that was what he needed. To be out of the hospital environment and the things he was obviously struggling with. Maybe this—an environment like someone’s home—made him feel more chilled. More easy to be around.
Or maybe she was remembering the last time they’d been in a darkened room together. Because she was feeling herself drawn towards him, her feet on autopilot.
She was up close, just under his chin. He turned back round and gave a little start at her close proximity. Was she reading this all wrong?
But from the lazy smile that came across his face she obviously wasn’t.
He leaned one elbow on the counter top. “Did I say it was your fault?” He was so close that his breath warmed her cheeks.
“You didn’t have to, but it always seems that way.”
He lifted his hand and rested it gently on her hip. “Maybe you’re just a little too uptight. Maybe you need to stop following the rule book all the time.” He moved forward in the darkness, his lips brushing against her ear. “Maybe—just maybe—you need to learn to relax a little.”
It was the way he said it. His tone of voice. She hadn’t read anything wrong.
She was reading everything perfectly. He thought she couldn’t throw the rule book away? Even for a second?
Under normal circumstances she would have been horrified. But nothing about this was normal. And nothing about how she felt drawn to this man was normal.
Maybe for just five minutes she could follow her own rules. Not the ones that felt safe.
She looked at him steadily in the dim light. “Maybe. I was just thinking the same thing about you. Maybe you need to learn to relax too,” she whispered.
For a second nothing happened. Her breath felt caught in her chest. Her skin prickled. What would he do?
It was almost as if she could see him thinking, weighing up things in his mind. Had she just made a huge mistake? The wait was killing her.
Then she felt it—a warm hand slipping into hers. It electrified her skin. He pulled her over towards the sofa and sat. He tugged her down next to him, the moonlight spilling over them both.
Maybe she should feel a little intimidated by how close they were. If she leaned forward right now she could brush her nose against his. But she didn’t feel intimidated at all. She didn’t feel they were close enough.
In the dim moonlight and up this close she had her best-ever view of his pale green eyes. She’d seen a previous stone that color once in a tiny boutique jeweler. It was called paraiba tourmaline and she’d never seen one again. Which was a pity because it was the exact color of his eyes. And she could see the little lines all around the corners of his eyes. Were they laughter lines? Or were they from the permanent frown that he usually saved for her?
His shaggy brown hair didn’t annoy her nearly so much when she had a close-up view. She kind of liked it. In fact, for a split second she could see her fingers running through it in the midst of...
She shook that thought from her mind, squeezing her eyes shut for a second. Wow. Where had that come from?
But she didn’t feel embarrassed. She didn’t feel awkward. The heat emanating from his body was warming hers. And she was enjoying it. No matter how crazy that was.
When had been the last time she’d been in this position? This close to a man? It must have been over a year ago.
Harry. Like all the others, he hadn’t worked out either. It wasn’t that there had been anything wrong with him. He had been kind, handsome, considerate. Just what any girl would want. But she just hadn’t connected with him. Hadn’t been able to let herself go enough to plan ahead for a future with him in it. Because that would have meant letting him in. Telling him everything he’d needed to know. And she hadn’t been there yet.
She hadn’t been ready to share.
So what was so different about Sawyer?
Was it that he challenged her to let the rule book go? Was it that he pushed her to do better?
Or was it that he’d lived through the pain of loss himself? Maybe he would understand in a way that no one else could? Maybe that was the truth of why she was drawn to him—a fellow lost soul.
He moved. The shadows had gone from his eyes and there was no barrier between them—no shutters.
Callie’s stomach was in a little knot. Was he finally letting down his guard? Would he actually talk to her about what had happened?
His hand came down on her the side of her leg. His warm hand instantly connected, shooting warmth through her thin scrub trousers.
“So, Callie, are you going to tell me?”
She turned to face him. His hand was still on her leg but now she’d angled her body around to face his so they were almost nose to nose.
“About what happened. To your leg.”
This was it the moment she should pull away. The time for her to retreat into herself and hide away from the rest of the world.
She’d done it before. It was automatic. It was so easy.
Her hands moved, up around his neck.
She was about to take the biggest step she’d ever taken.
>
“Not now. Maybe later.”
Four words. That was all.
But it felt like a giant leap forward.
It was the first time she’d ever even considered telling someone about what had happened.
He could never know the strength that had taken.
She was sure she started to hold her breath. She believe how distracted she was right now. She was sure he must think her a little crazy.
But she didn’t have time to think of any of these things.
Because she was kissing Sawyer.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CALLIE WASN’T QUITE sure who made the first move. She didn’t think it was her, but then again she didn’t think it was him. It was almost as if they read each other’s minds and moved simultaneously.
There was no light-hearted kissing. No nibbling. Nothing gentle. Nothing delicate.
From the second their lips locked there were no holds barred. His lips devoured hers, fully, passionately without a moment’s hesitation. And she liked it.
She could feel the scrape of his emerging bristles on his chin against her skin, abrading it as they kissed. Their teeth clashed and they both ignored it, his hand pressing firmly on her back to bring her even closer.
She wanted to run her hands over his body, across his chest and down his back. Everything about her was acting on instinct. The one thing she wasn’t used to.
His kisses moved. Down her neck, along her throat. Then he groaned and shifted position, pushing her onto her back on the sofa and slowly moving on top of her. He pressed her arms above her head, straddling her body, and starting work on her neck again.
She was gasping now, willing him to go lower. Itching to let her hands feel his skin under her palms.
She wrenched one of her hands free and grabbed hold of his hair, pulling his head back up towards her and capturing his lips again. She loved the feel of them. She loved the way he kissed her.