From Ex to Eternity(15)

“Not nearly as well as I’d like,” he admitted readily. “Hence the invitation to join me in the honeymoon suite.”

She rolled her shiny eyes, and the moisture wasn’t from the storm overhead, but the internal one. “You already know me that way, Mitchell.”

“Do I?” Any sensible person would shut the door. It was raining. So he eased it closed and leaned back against it. “You haven’t developed some new moves under the sheets in two years? You’ve started jogging. Maybe you’re doing some tantric yoga, too.”

Fire flashed in her gaze and all the tears dried up, which was exactly what he’d been going for. All her unexplained emotions were unsettling. Uncomfortable. Sweat broke out along his neck.

“I’m not. And for your information, I’ve been building a business for the last two years, not brushing up on my Kama Sutra.” She raked him with that fiery gaze. “So what if you get me naked and it’s cataclysmic. What then? What does that really tell you about me—as a person?”

“That you’re someone I want to spend more time with?” he offered and pulled at his tight shirt. She was clearly fishing for something. “And God, Cara. It’s like an oven in here. How do you sleep?”

“Yeah, the air conditioner is still broken. Thanks for noticing.” Her sarcasm only made the neckline of his shirt more constricting. “Don’t you dare use that as an excuse to try to get me into your bed.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he lied. She didn’t have to know that was exactly what he’d been about to suggest.

Still off balance, Keith ran a hand through his own damp hair. He kind of hoped the fantasy in pink never figured out she looked like a model about to pose for the cover of a men’s magazine—but she was killing him. In more ways than one.

He should leave. Tension crackled through the air and he only wished it was just sexual. That he could handle. But the sizzling awareness was laced with something heavy, deeper. And he wasn’t sure what to do with it, not on the heels of the mind-bending kiss on the beach. Not on the heels of playing the newlywed game and recalling Cara underneath him with extreme clarity.

He glanced at the wall behind her, but it did nothing to ease the churn of warring responses beneath his skin. Maybe they should get back to the original subject.

“What’s going on with you? If you took off because Meredith and her stud boy were winning, I wouldn’t put too much credence into it. The only reason she knew Paolo was a black belt is because he uses that as a pickup line. He’s told every available woman on this property that he’s a black belt. Whether he actually is or not is another story.”

The wall was a very boring beige with a framed photo of a shell hanging dead center. Who decorated these rooms—a half-blind eighty-year-old? The decor would have to be updated. Yet another detail he’d missed with his fine-toothed comb because he was too busy chasing after a woman who’d already rejected him countless times over the past couple days.

His gaze drifted to Cara’s face. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t stop looking at her any more than he could stop digging beneath the surface of her “not interested.” Any more than he could stop wanting her.

“I didn’t know he was a black belt.” Cara sniffed, but her expression lost a bit of the edge she’d worn since he walked into her room.

“You’re not available,” he pointed out. “Are you?”

“No! Well, maybe. I don’t know.” She dropped onto the bed as if her legs couldn’t hold her any longer and scrubbed at her cheeks with her palms. “That’s what’s wrong. I don’t know anymore.”

Defeat pulled at her expression and another unsettling wave splashed through his insides.

Talk to me, sweetheart. He wanted to say it. Meant to say it.

But he couldn’t spit out the words.

Cara fingered off her sandals and while she was occupied, Keith risked sitting on the bed next to her. Bad move. Now he was close enough to touch the fantasy in pink and very far from the door, which he should be disappearing through at this moment.

Especially given that he’d just looked down from this emotionally precarious tightrope and nearly lost his balance.

She needed...something, and Keith Mitchell was probably the last person on the planet able to give it to her.

For once, he had no idea how to hit this target.





Six

He had to do something, so he reached out and enfolded her hand in his, cradling it in his lap without speaking.

Her fingers curled around his and his stomach settled. Slightly.

“You don’t have to stick around and watch me fall apart,” she said. “I’m sure there are plenty of other things you’d rather be doing. Go back to the party. I’ll be fine.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather be doing than sitting here with you.” Which seemed to be the God’s honest truth, despite all the heaviness. Otherwise, he would have taken advantage of his close proximity to the door to make his escape, wouldn’t he?

He tried to convince himself he stayed because of the challenge. But he had a feeling there was more to it than that, and the mystery of it kept him firmly rooted.

“Only because you think you’re going to get lucky.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here, Cara.” Frustration exploded through his chest and came out of his mouth, unchecked. Anger he didn’t have any trouble expressing. “I live to take advantage of crying, upset women. It’s a total turn-on. Can you please stop assuming all I care about is sex?”

Clearly stricken, she stared at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t...Wait. You mean that’s not all you care about?”

Keith groaned. The trap had closed so neatly, he hadn’t even realized he’d set it up. And he had only himself to blame. Five minutes ago, sex was all he cared about. Or at least it was all he could think about. When had everything shifted around?

It made him mad enough to say exactly what was on his mind.

“Let’s examine this, shall we? I’m missing a party where alcohol I’m paying for is flowing freely. It’s raining and I followed you back to your room anyway. My pants are still wet.” Which he’d totally forgotten about until now, but he was too worked up to recall why it was important to mention. “You’re upset and in a crappy mood. I would have assumed the facts speak for themselves, but since they don’t, I’ll spell it out. I care about you,” he said honestly, though who the hell knew where that came from. “Or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh.” She processed that, a hundred unfathomable thoughts traveling across her face at warp speed. “I’m sorry I dragged you away from the party. And for being in a crappy mood. It’s not your fault, by the way. I’m just questioning every life decision I’ve ever made and you happened to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Good to know. By the way, I’m not here to stand in the way of your crisis. Question away,” he offered because it was the closest thing to support he could muster. “I’ll listen.”

She flung herself backward on the bed, legs still dangling off the edge. Staring at the ceiling as if it held the secrets of the universe, she hefted a sigh. “How did we get all the way to the point where we were about to march down the aisle and didn’t really know each other that well?”

“Uh...” You were pregnant clearly wasn’t what she was going for. “I think the better question is why it matters so much to you. We didn’t march down the aisle.”

“But I would have. I don’t even think I was in love with you. I convinced myself I was. But I don’t know that I was. How could I not know?” Her fists came down hard on the bed, but it didn’t seem to unload an iota of her frustration. The motion flung still-damp hair into her face, but she left it there in favor of cursing colorfully at the ceiling.

“Where is this coming from? The stupid newlywed game? That was supposed to be fun, not an opportunity to ponder the choices we made a million years ago.” He couldn’t help but reach out and stroke the hair from her forehead since she didn’t appear to be so inclined. Plus it was an excuse to touch her...and maybe communicate something he couldn’t with mere words.

“Yeah. From the game. But also from the elevator conversation. The kiss.” She bit her lip. “Never mind. Scratch that last one.”

His hand froze against her temple. “Not on your life. What about the kiss?”

She hesitated long enough for him to assume she wasn’t going to answer. But then she rolled to face him, effectively threading his fingers through her hair. “It was just...different. I’ve kissed you before. Lots of times. How could it be different?”

Before he answered that, he needed a critical piece of intel. “Different better or different worse?”

“Fishing for compliments?” At his eye roll, she shrugged with a faint smile. “It wasn’t worse. But it wasn’t like it used to be.”

That might be the best news he’d heard all day. Satisfaction flared to life and turned dangerously fast into an ache in his chest that couldn’t be explained. “Maybe because it was spontaneous, without all the pressures we had the first time around?”