Don't Tell the Wedding Planner (12 page)

His voice felt raw. “No.”

“If you agree to talk to Penny, I’ll let you watch me masturbate.”

His already straining erection strained some more, and his groin grew so tight he thought he’d crack in half. Christ, every muscle was tensed and ready and willing and able, urging Matt to do exactly whatever Callie asked.

But wouldn’t he be better off calling a halt to this impossible relationship now? Every interaction led him further and further down a slippery slope. He’d shown up in New Orleans to find a wedding planner and leave, but had wound up staying for two weeks. He’d left for home with the plan of returning for the wedding, and moved heaven and earth to free up some time for another trip back. Until eventually breaking things off felt impossible.

“And then I can watch you do the same,” she said.

“You want me to masturbate on camera for you?”

“Why not?” she said. “We’re both grown-ups. If I sign off now, what will you do?”

“Take care of this myself.”

“What’s a little video sexting other than a way to challenge ourselves? You know, up the ante on our third-base event on the dock.”

“So now, instead of third base we’re...what?” He quirked a teasing eyebrow. “Hitting zero base?”

“You wouldn’t want to deprive me of the pleasure of watching, would you?”

Desire shot through his limbs, his heart slamming in his chest, and he tugged on the leg of his briefs, dying to provide a little relief.

“Why are you so intent on this little endeavor, anyway?” he asked.

“You look like you’ve had a crappy day.”

“I did.”

The arguing of the administrators had been prolonged and, as with most management types, full of a lot of hot air as both sides seemed intent on hearing themselves speak. Matt just wanted to provide appropriate care for the patient. But the scene had morphed into Matt being thrown into the mix of two men running for political office. And between the fighting friends and the divorcing couple, the evening had ended on a truly sucky note.

A little sexual release seemed a small pleasure to ask.

But part of him wondered about the point of this little, well,
exercise,
for lack of a better word. Callie lived in New Orleans. Callie
loved
New Orleans. And her business clearly thrived in a city that provided ample opportunity for themed weddings. Matt knew few couples, if any, would travel to Manford, Michigan, to fulfill their adventure wedding fantasies. And he certainly couldn’t move because Tommy lived here.

The last time Matt had left his little brother for too long, Tommy had almost died....

Matt slammed his eyes closed, torn between what he wanted now and what he feared would be too hard to let go of later.

“Matt.”

He opened his eyes and found Callie had shifted on her bed.

“Okay,” he said. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll think about having a conversation with Penny.”

“That’s all a girl can ask,” Callie said.

A palm cupped her breast and her seeking hand finally slid beneath the front of her boxers. “I have a thing for your broad shoulders,” she murmured. “I have ever since the dressing room.” Her honey words rolled over him, and her thumb began to circle the tip of her breast. “I love the feel of your hard chest against mine when you move on top of me.” The bud hardened and swelled, and blood
whooshed
annoyingly in his ears. He didn’t want to miss even the tiniest inflection in the drawl.

Her eyes glazed over. “Picture me spread beneath you.”

His chest struggled to suck in enough oxygen.

She looked like every adolescent’s wet dream. Granted, she didn’t have as lush a figure as most centerfolds. But he craved the feel of her skin, her taste on his tongue and the toned legs. The gentle flare of her hips was just enough to entice a man. Her breasts were perfectly formed. As her breath came faster, the tips rose and fell faster with every breath. The hand down her panties moved faster. The fact that he couldn’t see exactly what was going on was almost hotter for the secrecy.

The only thing he knew for certain was that she was ready for him. If he was in her bed right now, he could pull her beneath him and thrust deep, no foreplay needed. Good God, he closed his eyes and remembered sliding between those silken thighs and into her wet heat.

With a groan, he reached into his pants and grasped his erection. He ignored the thoughts swirling in his head as he began to stroke himself.

“Matt—” Callie’s voice cracked.

“I know.”

“Hurry,” she said.

His hand pumped a little harder as he watched her eyes glaze over, her hips start to roll with every movement of the hand between her legs. He grew so tight he thought he’d crack.

“That’s really...” Her voice trailed off. She sounded out of breath. “Hot,” she drawled.

“Is
hot
the agreed upon safe word?”

“Do we need a safe word?”

“With you around, hell, yeah.”

Nothing was safe with Callie around, most of all his sanity.

Even on screen he could see the flush on her cheeks and her lips part as she began to pant for breath. And while his gaze remained locked on hers, every once in a while he saw her tick her gaze down. To watch what he was doing.

Frustrated by the constricting fabric, Matt gave up on restraint and tugged his sweatpants down to his thighs before returning his hand to his erection, his hand beginning an intense rhythm. His attention drifted between memories of Callie moving beneath him in bed and the live picture of her on screen. Sweat dotted his upper lip, and the pleasure wound tighter. He remembered the scent of her shampoo and the sounds she made as she clutched his back. Callie whimpered—even that tiny sound held a hint of the South. A second ticked by before he realized the noise had come from Callie and not just his memories.

“Oh, my God, Matt. I can’t—” Callie’s voice gave out.

He glanced at her, and suddenly Matt couldn’t suck in the oxygen fast enough.

Matt had the overwhelming urge to lean forward and lick the computer screen, a sad substitute for the sweet taste of Callie’s skin. Instead, he imagined taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, picturing her writhing against him. He could almost smell the scent of sex, the feel of sweat-slicked skin against sweat-slicked skin. An electric energy pulsed in his groin, demanding to be released.

Don’t you dare finish first, Paulson.

“Callie,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

The single, desperate word had the intended effect. Callie arched her back and let out a long, low moan. Despite the soft tone, the sound slammed into Matt, and he closed his eyes, following on her heels.

Matt had no idea how much time ticked by before he could focus again. Slowly he became aware of his heaving breaths, and he lifted his head to stare at the computer screen. Callie had a dreamy look on her face and a slight smile on her lips.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey, yourself.”

Her smile grew bigger. “Aren’t you glad you agreed?”

A chuckle escaped. “Callie, hitting zero base with you is a hundred times better than hitting a home run with someone else.”

EIGHT

Callie weaved
her way through the crowded baggage terminal of the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport, dodging passengers and carts loaded with luggage as she looked for Matt. Because of the location of the airport and her condo in relation to her family reunion, he’d insisted on taking a taxi to her place because picking him up would have been out of her way. And they’d be cutting the timing close enough.

She’d finally pretended to give in. But surprising him as he gathered his bags had been her plan all along. Because Matt had decided to make the trip back to New Orleans again. A special trip, just to see her. And she had every intention of making the most of the three-day weekend.

She knew how hard he’d worked to clear his schedule so he could come back for her family reunion. The effort he’d exerted on her behalf generated a lovely feel-good buzz, along with an anticipation and hope that left her alarmed at her own stupidity.

Don’t expect too much, Callie.

She shoved back the warning voices in her head, promising herself not to think negative thoughts. Matt hadn’t gone out of his way to steal an extra couple of days with her just so she could wallow in doubt about the future. She spied a broad back and sandy hair that curled a little at the collar, and pleasure flushed up her back.

Nope, not a chance. She intended to enjoy every second they spent together.

She grinned as she tapped one side of a very nice set of shoulders. “Excuse me, sir. Do you have the time?”

Matt turned, and, if she’d been holding out for a smile, she’d have been disappointed.

Instead of responding, he hooked his hand behind her neck and dragged her close, her body crash-landing into his. He kissed her without apology, nothing tentative or hesitant about the maneuver. Hot and hungry and brimming with heat, his hard lips moved across hers as if he’d been thinking of nothing else for the entire flight down. Perhaps since last night.

Maybe for the past two weeks.

Callie gripped his shirt and pulled him close, moaning into his mouth as she plastered her torso tighter against his. She met him turn for turn, taste for taste. Despite the crowd, she did her best to show him she’d missed him, too. His tongue rasped against hers, want and need and determination stamped in his every action. Like a gentle assault she couldn’t quite fend off, not that she had any desire to do such a ridiculous thing.

When the need to inhale grew too great, Callie pulled back.

“Though my appreciation for Skype has skyrocketed, I much prefer face-to-face encounters.” Matt grinned and looked down the front of her blouse, no doubt seeing the lacy cups of her push-up bra. “You hiding a watch down there?”

“Nope.” She held up her wrist. “Today I’m wearing one like everybody else.”

His lips quirked. “How disappointing.”

“No worries,” she said, mimicking his favorite phrase. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“You mean after I eat lunch with the LaBeau family and start sweating cayenne pepper out of my pores?”

Callie laughed. “I can’t wait.” Though the thought of the entire LaBeau family being present left her nibbling on her lip in concern. All those aunts and uncles and cousins she hadn’t seen in so long, swarming around her...

The day had started out cloudy and cool and stayed so for most of their two-hour drive. Fortunately, the sun finally broke through the clouds just in time for Callie to arrive at the outdoor park by the Mississippi River, Matt by her side. The crowd of LaBeaus had already gathered around the tables set up lengthwise, enough food to feed the town of New Orleans, and then some.

Callie eyed the crowd, a swell of nausea slaying the last of her appetite. “I’m thinking we should do this in small doses.”

He frowned in confusion. “You mean eat?”

“No,” she said. “Meet my relatives.”

“If I can survive Aunt Billie’s étouffée then I can definitely handle your relatives.”

“Oh, they’ll love you.” Callie’s smile felt tight. “It’s me they might have a problem with.”

Aunt Billie stopped by first, and Callie was grateful her aunt was so reliable. A few teasing comments later, and Callie knew she was blushing, and then a warm welcome for Matt was delivered with a hug and an offer to bring him some of her étouffée herself. Promising, of course, to bring him the milder version this time.

The next thirty minutes passed uneventfully. A few aunts and uncles and distant cousins wandered by, not to mention a few people she couldn’t pin down her relationship to. Callie made the introductions and there were a few wayward comments about how long it’d been since she last came to the reunion. Several questions about her business, and one or two that were an indirect reference to her past. All in all, mostly just a whole lot of chitchat that didn’t mean much. But, in some ways, meant
everything.
Slowly, her tension eased to bearable levels, and she stopped bracing every time another family member approached.

And then her parents arrived.

Callie watched her mother make her way across the grass in Callie’s direction. They had the same figure, except her mother’s hips reflected her love of the homemade biscuits she had perfected years ago.

“Hey, Mama.”

She leaned in to kiss her mother on the cheek, even as dread curled up in her stomach and took up more than its fair share of room.

“I just heard about the weekend event you’re arranging for Colin,” her mother said. “A friend of mine heard about it on the radio.”

Callie bit back the sigh and plastered a smile on her face. “Actually, I’m arranging the weekend for a
client,
Mama.” She gestured at Matt, grateful for his steady presence at her side. “Matt Paulson hired me to help with his brother’s wedding. Tommy and his fiancée met online playing one of Colin’s games.”

“What a lovely story,” her mother said with a nod at Matt.

The way her mom eyed him made it clear she couldn’t care less about the engaged couple. The brother of the groom, on the other hand...

“Callie’s doing an excellent job,” Matt said.

“I’m sure she is,” her mother said. She turned to look at Callie. “Your little party business does seem to be doing quite well.”

Your little party business...

Her mother always qualified Callie’s business in such a way as to make her feelings known. As if being a themed wedding planner was okay, but only if you had no other options.

Callie’s heart slipped lower in her chest as her face strained to maintain the smile, and she ignored Matt’s gaze as his brows tented curiously over his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then pressed his lips into a firm line. Apparently, in five seconds Matt had surmised the best way to deal with Callie’s mother.

The proverbial biting of the tongue.

Though Callie wished she was biting his instead.

Heaven help her, not the thought to be having while holding a tricky conversation with her mother. Matt reached out and settled his hand in the small of her back, and Callie sent him a grateful look. The smile he responded with calmed her nerves and she returned the smile.

“Callie is quite bright,” her mother said to Matt before turning back to Callie. “Imagine what you could have done if you’d applied the same energy to a law practice.”

Her heart slipped to her toes. She knew how proud her parents had been when, in high school, she’d announced she wanted to go to law school. They’d proudly shared the news every time they’d gone back to visit their old hometown. There wasn’t a single relative, distant or otherwise, that hadn’t been invested in her progress at college.

And then she’d gotten arrested and lost her scholarship and...

Dear God.

Callie tried to come up with a response. “Mama—”

But that was it, because what else was there to say?

“She’s the best themed wedding planner in New Orleans,” Matt said smoothly.

Jeez, why was she standing here so tongue-tied? She should say something to her mother. She should defend her business, her life, her
choices.
Instead, she let Matt come to her defense.

“Of course she’s the best,” Callie’s mother said. “But there really isn’t that much competition.” She tipped her head and met Matt’s gaze. “Are you two dating?”

Callie’s heart attempted to leap from her chest and she lightly gripped her mother’s elbow.
“Mama.”

“What?” Belle LaBeau said, as if she didn’t understand why Callie was so upset.

Callie shot Matt an apologetic smile. “Matt, will you excuse us for a moment please?”

The amusement twinkled in Matt’s eyes. “No worries.”

Callie began to drag her mother in the direction of a flat, grassy spot overlooking the river.

“Mama,” Callie said, careful to keep her voice low. “What are you doing?”

“When my daughter brings a man to our family reunion, I have to assume he’s more than just a client.”

“Matt is—” Callie wearily swept her hair from her face. “He’s not—” She dropped her hand to her side, frustrated by her inability to identify what Matt was, not only to her mother, but to herself, as well. “He’s just...a friend.”

Good Lord. She’d been reduced to a lying, babbling idiot.

“Does Matt live in New Orleans?” her mother asked.

The question landed like a well-placed barb in Callie’s gut. What was it about mothers that gave them the ability to sniff out the painful heart of a matter in 3.3 seconds flat?

“No,” Callie said, and her face felt like it would crack from the effort to keep from frowning. “He lives in Manford, Michigan.”

“Never heard of it,” Belle said.

“Neither had I before meeting Matt,” Callie said.

“Does he have family around these parts?”

“No,” Callie said, gritting her teeth.

“No ties to New Orleans at all?”

“None whatsoever, Mama.”

The longer the back and forth went, the more tense Callie’s spine became, until she’d thought she’d snap in half. The fact her mother was verbalizing Callie’s secret concerns only made matters worse.

Thankfully, Callie’s mother paused. But before Callie’s tight muscles could lessen even a smidgen, Belle LaBeau opened her mouth to speak again, and Callie interrupted her.

“Is this really necessary, Mama?”

When they reached the far end of the grassy spot, Callie let go of her mother’s arm.

“It’s just a simple question, Callie. Surely Mr. Paulson doesn’t mind? You two are either dating, or you’re not.” She hiked a brow. “So?”

Callie opened her mouth. “I—”

Belle LaBeau’s brow shifted even higher.

“I don’t know,” Callie finished in a rush.

The disappointment in her mother’s eyes was a familiar look. “Callie,” she said with a defeated tone. “When are you going to do more than arrange
other
people’s weddings and find a man of your own?”

And with that, her mother pivoted on her heel and headed back to the pack of relatives in the park. Callie stared after her.

Are you two dating?

How come she didn’t have an answer to her mother’s question? But there were also more important questions at hand. The wedding weekend was coming up quickly, and once the event was over, what would happen then?

* * *

Matt swung the handle with everything he had, and the ax rotated through the air and struck the wood with a solid
whump,
well outside his intended target. The small crowd gathered around the booth moaned in sympathy. Matt propped his fist on his hip, frowning at the bright red bull’s-eye, the blade buried a good two feet from the outside ring.

Clearly he wouldn’t be winning any awards today.

“Good thing you have other skills to recommend you, because I’m not sure you’d do so well in the Middle Ages.”

At the sound of Callie’s voice from behind, Matt smiled and turned to face her.

Dressed in a simple medieval barmaid dress, Callie grinned up at him. Friday had been pure chaos as the wedding guests who’d arrived early at the designated hotel had gathered for dinner at a local restaurant. Matt’s time with Callie had been disappointingly limited since he’d arrived in town for the wedding, too much of Callie’s days taken up with last-minute details or impromptu meetings with Penny and Tommy.

And Matt refused to be amused by the sight of Callie’s and Tommy’s heads bowed together, both getting excited over some ridiculous detail about the weekend. Last evening he’d caught the two of them huddled together in a corner, engaged in an earnest debate about how to set up the ax-throwing competition so as many people as possible could enjoy the view.

Unfortunately, at the time, Matt had had no idea this would be to his disadvantage.

“I think I just lost the first round,” he said as he headed for Callie.

She smiled and stepped closer, closing the gap between them. “You need someone to cheer you up?”

Matt linked his fingers with hers and led Callie a few steps away, pulling her beneath the awning of a neighboring tent that wasn’t quite as crowded and offered a bit of privacy. Fortunately the heat wave had ended long ago, and while the skies were clear and sunny, the cool breeze meant Matt wouldn’t be needed to treat the participants for heat stroke.

A definite plus in his book.

Grateful for the rare moment alone, he leaned in to nuzzle Callie’s ear, enjoying the scent. Her hair smelled of magnolias and her skin smelled like...well, like
Callie.
And how he recognized the scent after only two months, with only two actual weeks together, was beyond him.

“Cheer me up? What did you have in mind?” he said.

Callie placed her hand on his chest and leaned in close. “I’ll tell you tonight if you stop by my place before heading back to the hotel.”

“I could skip going back to my hotel room altogether.”

“You could. However, if you spend
all
night at my place I won’t be at my best tomorrow.”

“So?”

He kissed his way up her neck and lightly nipped the delicate shell of her ear before stealing a hard kiss. But the simple contact felt majorly insufficient. He returned to delve deeper, tasting her tongue with his, enjoying the way she gripped the hair at his neck, as if needing the stability to stay upright.