“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.”