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"Never mind. It's not important. Look. I'm sorry. I warned you I wasn't any good at this."
She laughed. "You're only going to get so many free passes at using that as an excuse. If you want to be in a relationship, you have to work on your communication skills."
He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her close. "I'm not much of a talker. I'm more of a doer."
This is what she'd missed over the weekend. The rush of heat, the sudden flame of desire he could draw out of her with one touch.
"A doer, huh?"
"Yeah."
She looked over her shoulder. Her butt rested on the blueprints. "You know, I've had this fantasy about your trailer and this drafting table ever since the first time I walked in here."
She felt the hard ridge of his erection as he pushed her against the table. "Do tell."
"It has something to do with you bending me over it."
He flipped her around so fast she was dizzy, his hands roaming over her breasts, her back, her butt. "I like the way you think, Calliope."
"Good. Then shut up. More doing, less talking."
Chapter Nine
Wyatt watched the people around them as he escorted Calliope to their table at McCluskey's Restaurant. He intended to shoot visual daggers at anyone who gave Calliope even a sidelong glance.
So far they'd gone to a movie, eaten at her favorite Mexican restaurant, and gone out with Ethan, his wife Riley and their daughter, Zoey, since Riley was back in town after doing a recording session. As soon as Riley heard he was dating Calliope, she insisted on meeting her, so Ethan had suggested they all go out to dinner.
All this going out was wearing on him. Wyatt had spent so much of the past few years as a recluse he had lost the ability to be social. Fortunately Calliope was social enough for the both of them. She and Riley had talked for hours, and of course since Calliope loved kids she'd engaged Zoey in conversation, too. He and Ethan had kicked back and talked work while the three girls laughed together, talked fashion and music and the latest kid stuff.
Calliope was just damned...perfect.
He was in love with her, which scared the shit out of him.
The last time he'd fallen in love with a woman it hadn't ended so well for him. And this was Cassandra's sister. He couldn't imagine what her parents would think of all this. They weren't too fond of him because of what had gone down the first time. He didn't think they'd be overjoyed at the prospect of having him back in the family again.
"Wyatt."
He lifted his gaze to Calliope, who, along with the waitress he hadn't noticed standing at their table, gave him a look of expectation.
"What?"
"What would you like to drink, sir?"
"Oh. Iced tea would be great."
"Thanks, Rachel," Calliope said, then turned back to Wyatt after the waitress bounded off. "Where is your head tonight?"
"Sorry. Was thinking about work stuff." Or proposing to Calliope.
And where the hell had that come from?
He knew where it had come from. He was tired of being alone. Calliope had filled a void in his life he hadn't realized had been there. She was everything he'd ever wanted in a woman. She was full of life and laughter, she loved kids, and she didn't put up with his crap. She wanted the same things he did, so what the hell was he waiting for, other than it was all too familiar, family-wise?
It was too soon. He wasn't ready. He had no idea how she felt. What the hell was he thinking?
"Wyatt."
He lifted his gaze. "What?"
She tilted her head toward Rachel, their waitress again. "Sir, what would you like to order?"
Shit. He did a quick scan of the menu, ordered a steak and handed her the menu.
"Are you even here tonight?" Calliope asked.
"Sorry. A lot on my mind."
She reached for his hand. "Would you like to talk about it?"
"No." Hell, no.
"Well, there's something I want to talk to you about."
"Okay." This time he was determined to pay attention.
"The holidays are approaching, you know."
He lifted his lips and took a sip of tea. "Yeah, I have a calendar."
"Smartass. Anyway, I was wondering if you'd be willing to come over to my parents' house. They're having an open house this weekend."
He swallowed. Talk about tuning into his train of thought. "I don't know, Calliope. I'm not exactly their favorite person after Cassandra."
"I don't agree. They don't hold a grudge. Anyway, there're more."
"It gets worse?"
"I don't know if you'd call it worse. But I think if you and I are going to go anywhere with our relationship, there are some issues you need to put to rest."
He didn't like where this was going. "Go on."
"Cassie's coming home for the holidays."
And the train just jumped the tracks. "No."
"Hear me out on this."
"No. She and I have nothing to say to each other. Everything was said between our attorneys."
She squeezed his hand. "See? That's the problem. Neither of you had closure."
He pulled his hand away. "I had plenty of closure."
"Wyatt."
"Calliope. No. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I have nothing to say to Cassandra that hasn't already been said. I don't want to see her again, or talk to her again. Ever."
She opened her mouth to argue, but the waitress brought their drinks. Maybe she could tell by the look on his face, but she didn't bring up the topic again, at least until they left the restaurant and went back to his place.
They were curled up on the sofa together and she was unbuttoning his shirt, a slow seduction that was too damn slow in his opinion. He was more than ready to get to the good stuff, like her gorgeous naked body, with him inside her, hopefully rocking her world.
"What if you and I end up having...let's say a long-term relationship."
Fun halted. He took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's say we do."
"Eventually you're going to have to see my parents, come over to my house, hang out at holidays and birthdays and stuff."
He turned to face her. "My relationship is with you. Not with your family any more than your relationship is with my family. I care about you. Just you."
"But that isn't the way it works and you know it. You're trying to be simplistic and putting the two of us in a bubble. I don't want it to work that way, and I don't think you do, either. I like your family. I want our future to include our families--providing, of course, we have a future together. Do you want us to have a future together?"
He inhaled, let it out. "This is complicated."
"It doesn't have to be. You're making it that way by shoving this giant obstacle between us."
"Cassandra."
"Yes. And she doesn't have to be there. If you'd--"
He put his fingers to her lips. "I don't want my ex-wife in our lives, and I sure as hell don't want her between us right now. I don't want to talk about her or think about her. What I want right now is to kiss you." He put his mouth where his fingers had been. He much preferred kissing her to talking.
When she leaned against him, he felt her surrender. She curled her hand around his neck and moaned against him. He'd won this battle.
But it was a temporary reprieve. This wasn't over, but he was content to let it go for now. All he wanted was this moment, and to have Calliope in his arms, to feel the softness of her body as she moved against him.
He reached behind her to the zipper of the incredibly sexy dress she'd worn to dinner. All he could think about was getting the dress off her. He dragged the zipper down, then drew the dress off her shoulders. She wore a black silk bra that made him hold his breath because her breast
s nearly spilled over the top.
"Wow."
She grinned and pushed her glasses up.
Damn, she was one sexy woman. She slid off his lap, unhooked her bra then shimmied out of her panties. "You know what I really wish we could do?"
"If it has anything to do with sex, your wish is granted."
"Good. Because I want to take a shower."
He liked the direction of her thoughts. They made his dick pound hard against his jeans. He stood, scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs, depositing her on the floor in the bathroom. He turned the shower on while he removed his clothes, loving the way Calliope watched him as he undressed. He was hard and aching by the time he pulled her inside the oversized shower.
"I told you the first time I came here that this shower gave me naughty thoughts," she said.
"And I want to hear all about them."
"Four showerheads? It's a woman's dream, in more ways than one." She stepped under one of the sprays, not at all self-conscious about her hair getting wet or her makeup running down her face. One of the things he loved about her.
Wyatt stood back and watched the water stream in rivers down her gorgeous body as she slicked her hair back.
He moved in and put his arms around her to tug her against him, let her feel what she did to him. She reached between them to stroke him, agonizing him with slow, careful movements that made him clench his jaw.
He pushed her against the wall and lifted her arms over her head, held them there with his hand while he used the other to roam over her body. Water poured over them both, steam shadowing them and making the temperature rise as his body heated to unbearable. He bent and took a nipple, licked it then sucked it between his lips. Her moans of pleasure and the way she rocked her hips toward him were an invitation for more.
He wanted more, so he straightened and cupped her sex, watching her eyes as he rocked his hand against her, found the tight nub and rolled it between his fingers and took her where she wanted to go. She gasped, her eyes widening when she came.
He grabbed the condom he'd laid on top of the shower and put it on, then pushed her legs apart and entered her. She held on to his shoulders as he thrust into her again and again, his passion as hot as the water and steam pouring over them.
She dug her nails into him. "More," she said, her voice a whisper, a sensual command.
He gave her more, and she tightened around him, then convulsed, and he shattered, wrapping his arm around her and lifting her. He took her mouth as the maelstrom of sensation wrecked him, left his legs shaking so hard he had to grab the top of the shower to hold them both steady.
