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Ari was married to a big, overprotective Maverick, especially where Noah and she were concerned. But Lyssa was the one who’d been told in no uncertain terms that a certain man was off-limits.
Kelsey wasn’t letting up. “What if he wasn’t your boss?”
“Well, since I hope to continue working at the foundation for a very long time, it’s not something I’ve ever really thought about.”
She couldn’t stand lying to her friends—it felt like chewing on nails—but she could never come clean with them about London, or the trip home. She had no choice but to get through their line of questioning and hope they didn’t ask about Cal ever again.
* * *
Cal had to get on the first available ferry off the island after the Thanksgiving dinner. There was no way he could keep his head straight around Lyssa for even one minute past the pumpkin pie.
She had looked at him, and he was a goner.
One glance at her lips, and he remembered how good she tasted.
One whiff of her perfume, and he remembered how sweet she smelled.
And if he kept gazing at her as if he wanted to devour her, there was no way the guys would miss it.
Luckily, he was seated far enough from Lyssa that he couldn’t see her, couldn’t drool over her. Next to him, Theresa Collins was ecstatic about the wedding and the twins. She chattered away happily without expecting a reply. The turkey and all the trimmings were surely delicious, but could have been straw in his mouth for all he enjoyed them.
Bob Spencer rose, clinking his fork against his glass. “Although I didn’t have time to prepare a toast, I’d still like to say a few words to the happy couple.” He raised his glass. “Paige, you know Susan and I love you like our own daughter. We couldn’t be happier that you’ve joined the family and that you’re bringing us not only one grandchild, but two. It’s all the more important that we move out to California ASAP, because we want to be here for the twins’ arrival.” He laughed. “We’re going to be spending so much time with your kids—” He looked at the parents in the group. “With all of your kids, that you’re bound to get sick of us and want to send us back to Chicago.”
Paige—and everyone else—called out, “Never!”
He raised his glass. “Evan, you done good, son. Real good.”
Then Will rose. “You caught us by surprise, bro. The best possible surprise. So, like Dad, I’ll be short and sweet. All I’ll say is that after it took you ten long years to get your head out of your butt and marry Paige—” Everyone laughed and cheered. “—I’m glad you can finally see the sun shining again.”
There were guffaws and more huzzahs, and everyone toasted with glee because Evan had finally picked the right sister.
But Cal didn’t touch a drop. Champagne reminded him of the London Eye and holding Lyssa in his arms as they danced the unforgettable night away.
He had to be on the next ferry. He wasn’t going to be able to keep his distance for much longer. And if he touched her again?
On a silent curse, he picked up his glass and downed it in one gulp, consumed by the seriously hot sparks that would fly if he gave in to his desperate need to pull Lyssa into his arms and kiss her breathless.
Sparks that would surely burn to ashes any friendship or business relationship left between them.
Chapter Twelve
With the fabulous meal over, the staff cleared away the plates. A waiter rolled in a trolley with a one-tier wedding cake covered in fondant icing and beautifully made sugar flowers.
In all the hubbub, Lyssa saw Cal slip out. Knowing this was the chance she’d been looking for, she followed him as he made a beeline for the rear exit. By the time she reached the French doors, he’d already wended his way through the tables on the patio and was heading along the path to the cliff.
She couldn’t run in her heels, so she slipped them off, lifted her dress, and jogged after him. Fortunately, the patio was empty, and no one would see her making a fool of herself.
She was breathless by the time she caught up to him. “Cal,” she called.
Cal finally turned.
The look he gave her made her whole body tremble. He didn’t look angry or annoyed. His gaze simply ate her up, his eyes hot, blazing, taking in her heaving chest, sliding down her body to her shoes in her hand and her bare feet. Then he licked his lips as if his mouth had dried up.
She couldn’t catch her breath, and it wasn’t just the running. It was that look.
That hunger. For her.
Working to think clearly, she said, “I wanted to talk to you face to face. Clear the air.”
