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Together, they’d looked over the listing of movies, and of the ten films available for viewing, they hadn’t seen the same three. They weren’t current releases, but the movies weren’t from decades ago either. Liam suggested a lighthearted rom-com, but they settled on the comedic action movie as Callie thought it might have a better chance to keep her awake. They’d agreed to meet at the theatre ten minutes before their scheduled show time.
She kept trying to tell herself that it wasn’t a date, that they were only two people going to the same movie. But her sweaty hands and the pit in her stomach meant something else.
Callie stared in the bathroom mirror inside her room, examining a reflection that petrified her. She silently cursed the clothing store on the resort. Their shortsightedness for not carrying a wide variety and sizes of clothes had caused her to lose her cool earlier, but as a businesswoman, she realistically understood to stay profitable there couldn’t be unlimited ordering. She smoothed the taut fabric over her hips. The knit dress didn’t hide an extra ounce of anything. If Meg hadn’t sent her suit and what she’d worn last night out to be dry-cleaned while Callie was in the shower, she would’ve slipped one of them back on. Anything other than this. She adjusted the spaghetti straps. She couldn’t wear a bra, but the weighty fabric provided enough support, just not coverage. Her nipples peaked like two tiny mountains.
I’d swear she did it on purpose.
No doubt, meant to push Callie out of her comfort zone.
I look like an island-inspired call girl.
On the way to the theatre, Callie used the “Coming Soon!” poster glass to check her lipstick and tried to ignore the anticipation tingles trailing her bare legs. The numerous selections of lipstick in Meg’s purse astounded Callie, but Meg always said that a good lipstick and an extra pair of panties were staples.
Meg wasn’t kidding on the panties being staples. The order from the clothing store didn’t include those because Meg already had some in her purse, so she wasn’t concerned about the piece of clothing. But Callie’s had been sent out with the rest of her clothes, and now, the alfresco situation at the bottom of the thigh-high hem made Callie clench her legs together to protect her assets—literally. The move set off a whole new layer of zips and zings. She slowly inhaled three deep breaths.
On the third, a man carrying flowers stepped in front of her. At least by the big hands, she assumed it was a man, but the bouquet covered most of the person’s face. They lowered slowly, and a warm sensation scintillated in her stomach.
Liam smiled. “For a friend, flowers to brighten a rainy day.”
“They’re beautiful.” The floral arrangement reminded her of him—unpretentious and exquisite—with stargazer lilies and tropical greens intermingled.
A man appeared to let them into the soundproof cubicle they would call home for about two hours. They stepped inside the 16’ x 20’ dark room lighted with only strips of dimmed, hot pink rope lighting where the walls met the ceiling. After sharing directions on the video system, the attendant left with the flowers to deliver them to Callie’s room.
“I know you don’t love that dress, so I brought you something that you might be more comfortable in.” Liam stood and pulled an oversized robe from a bag he’d carried in. He held up a hand before she could say anything. “I happen to know this is both the right size and super comfortable. It came from my room, and I wore it this morning.”
You wore it?
She could imagine it smelling like him. Her body clenched internally. She crossed her legs to squelch the burn. It’d been against his skin. It would smell like him. He’d obviously brought some cologne or… Meg! Dammit. She’d probably known his favorite scent from learning all about him and had it delivered to his room. The woman was Sherlock Holmes in stilettos and Hepburn-style sunglasses.
Slipping from the chair, she grabbed the robe. “Turn around.”
“Of course.” Liam spun slowly.
“Please don’t turn back around until I say.”
Liam cleared his throat. “I won’t. I promise, Callie.”
Her name rolled off his tongue with a softness that made her still and stare at his backside. She hadn’t noticed that his jeans were different. And tight.
Callie hushed a giggled. She wasn’t being a good friend. She smirked. This needed to be remedied. “Nice and tight jeans, Young,” she jabbed.
Liam chuckled. “You’re just now noticing my clothing isn’t really that comfortable either?”
They could remedy that. Callie reexamined what was right in front of her. Definitely a runner, the jeans clung to his thin waist, and from there down it was tight muscle. Until his ass. The muscles curved like two ripe cantaloupes. The man wasn’t perfect. Nobody was. But he tipped the scales in so many areas that he seemed almost perfect to her.
Turning him down last night was meant to protect the company and maintain her personal morals and ethics code. But the company would survive if she threw caution to the wind. And personally, she considered making major revisions to her morals and ethics. They’d been amended after Trent, but now she could see how they’d been a knee-jerk reaction to being hurt.
Liam showed that he cared about her comfort and made an effort she really appreciated. He tipped the scales in so many areas. Was it time to let her defenses down?
Liam shifted in his loafers and shoved his hands in his jeans’ pockets, pulling the denim so tight that it wasn’t a guess on boxers or briefs anymore.
Boxer briefs … best of both worlds.
Thoughts circled each other in her brain. What if they were just friends who had a lovely—sex-filled—weekend together? Clearly, they were attracted to each other. He’d already admitted this fact to her, and she couldn’t deny she found him both intriguing and a little maddening, but in one of those ways that made her want to come back for more.
And what was the harm? She lived in another city, and they would part ways soon. They were on a clock that meant now or never.
Plus, they were both adults.
