Page 24 of Ripple Effect
He grins, something I notice he never did even around Sam. A happy tingle flows through me. “Makes it an easy commute, I guess.”
“You have no idea.” An easy silence falls between us.
We’re on the road a while before Cal reaches over, takes my hand, and squeezes. My heart thumps in my chest. I feel like tonight is one of those kinds of nights where life is spinning her wheel and anything can happen. Nothing will remain the same after.
I gently return the gesture.
“Deja Vu was what you were talking about in the bar that night,” he suddenly says once we’re back on Route 17 heading toward Charleston.
If anyone told me that all the walls I’ve built would fall away with one simple query, I’d have called them a damned liar. But Cal just managed to. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
We pass under a streetlamp just then. His jaw is clenched hard. “I probably remember more than you imagine I do.”
“Like?” I challenge.
Suddenly, Cal’s swung the car into the parking lot of Deja Vu. He’s twisted in his seat until he’s facing me. “When I’m out with colleagues having a drink, I remember what it was like to sit with you and drink bad wine. Every time I close my eyes, I can still hear your laughter. And I can’t see a damn sunflower without missing you.” His head lowers.
My lips part, my breath coming out heavy. “Three years,” I moan. My tongue comes out to dampen my lips.
“And every minute of them, I’ve cursed myself a fool for not doing this.” Cal leans forward and captures my lips with a hunger born of every moment we’ve been apart.
My lips part for him, my head tilting to the side. My arms snake around his shoulders, tugging him closer. I don’t just hear the growl that comes out of his mouth, I taste it. It pulls an answering groan from my own. There’s pure need communicating between the meeting of lips and tongues. It’s pleasure and hunger.
And through it all, Cal’s managing to ensure I’ll never be able to resist him ever again.
All through one kiss.
Pulling back, Cal cups my chin, nuzzling my cheek. “Thank you.”
I pull back confused. “You’re thanking me?”
“No, I’m thanking whomever I have to for finally letting the timing be right,” he says seriously before he lowers his head again.
Cal’s tongue slips past before I have a chance to pull back in surprise. Giving myself over to it, I lose my reason and my senses. If a kiss is a stone meant to disturb the sheen of life’s water, then the recovery of this one may wash me up on the shores.
Dragging me over the console, Cal arranges my legs so I’m straddling his lap. I rip my mouth away to whimper, “Oh, God.”
Cal trails his lips down my neck. “Jesus, Libby, how did I ever walk away?” he groans.
And like ice water being dropped on me, I freeze up. Those words suddenly throw my shields back into place. This is a man who might walk away, and I’m not a woman to leave. “I don’t know, but you did.” Extracting myself from his lap, I climb back over the console. I lean down to pick up my purse from where I dropped it.
When I straighten, Cal’s there. His lips capture mine again. After another devastating kiss that begins to melt the frost around my heart, he whispers, “I’m not walking away again. I promise you that. If anyone does any leaving, it’s going to be you.”
My lips quirk. “Do you mean for tonight or longer than that?”
Without hesitation, he says, “Both.”
More of the frost melts. “Well, for tonight, I am going to say good night.”
Cal nods before opening his door. “Don’t move. I’ll be right around,” he warns.
Another shot of warmth steals through me. I wait patiently for him to open my door. Holding my hand, he escorts me to the back entrance of the building. “Do you have your keys?”
I pull them out. “Right here.” I jingle them for good measure.
He holds out his hand. “For my peace of mind, let me do a quick walk-through?”
“Why?”
