Every Kiss (28 page)

“Oh.” That’s all she can seem to come up with to say. Her
eyes are brimmed with tears, and her shaking hand covers her trembling mouth. I
watch the first tear as it spills over the thin line of lashes and several more
quickly follow. As each one of them saw the other, I’ve been able to witness the
most honest and raw of reactions and probably the most beautiful thing I’ve
ever been a part of in my life. I’m proud of myself for making this happen.
It’s good to be a part of something that’s so much bigger than me.

“He’s even more handsome than that picture you sent me.”

I throw a glance over my shoulder at him. “He’s always an
angel when he’s sleeping,” I joke. “But, yeah, he’s pretty special.”

Chesley turns her hand over underneath mine and closes
around it weakly. “I know it couldn’t have been easy, but thank you for helping
me.” Her tired eyes are only half open, but she looks at me with such ferocity.
This is a life-long dream come true for her.

“You’re welcome. It
was
a fight.” I watch my thumb
gently skim along the top of her bony hand. “But there’s nothing I won’t do to
help him. I love him.”

I flinch when I say the words. Did I really just say that
out loud? Heat creeps up into my cheeks, and I begin to stammer, looking back
up to her as I try to explain what I just said. But she’s no longer interested
in what I said, or even the fact that I’m in this room. Her breath is frozen in
her chest, and she doesn’t dare blink as she stares across the room at Wes, who
has damn impeccable timing when it comes to waking up. Perfect.

Thankfully, he doesn’t acknowledge what I said, so I’m just
going to tell myself that he didn’t hear it. I’m also going to tell myself that
he’s a lot dumber than he looks. That’s the only way I’m going to survive the
next few minutes without melting right into the floor.

When neither of them makes any effort to speak, I realize
I’m going to have to bridge the gap, so I cross the room and hold out my hand
to Wes until he takes it. Dragging him along behind me, I approach the side of
the bed again.

“Chesley, I want you to meet Wes.”

A feeble smile brightens her face, and she slightly raises
her hand to shake his, as if she’s simply meeting a new neighbor. This just
proves to me that she knows she’s treading on thin ice with him, and she
doesn’t want to push him into anything more than what he’s comfortable with.

He looks down at her hand, seemingly torn between taking it
or just leaving her hanging there. But when he takes that single step in front
of me and sits at the edge of the bed, leaning over her, I nearly fall out in
the floor. He’s hugging her. Like
really
hugging her.

Before I can fully comprehend it, tears are rolling down my
face so fast, I can’t keep them wiped away. Chesley is openly sobbing at this
point, and I don’t think Wes is too composed either. I never would’ve expected
this kind of a response. Not from him. He’s always acted so aloof, so cool.
Like he could care less if he ever even heard her name.

This, though . . . this tells me that there’s so much more
inside of him that anyone has ever known. Perhaps like Eve, this is a day that
he’s planned his entire life. Maybe, it’s even something he’s secretly wanted.
Needed
.

“I’m . . .
so
sor-ry,” Chesley croaks between broken
sobs, still clinging to him. “I n-never would’ve left y-you if I had a
ch-choice. Never.”

Wes’ voice is shaky and barely audible. “I know that now . .
. Callie explained everything.”

“I ne-never thought I’d live to . . . hold you in my arms
a-again. Or get to look at those eyes.” She places a hand on each cheek and
pushes him back just enough to be able to look at his face. “I always knew they
were going to be blue . . . like your dad’s.” Her heavy lids fight so hard to
stay open, but they only flutter and close over and over.

“I’ll come back again in a while, so we can talk more,” Wes
promises, taking her hands and resting them over her stomach. Surprisingly, he
doesn’t take his away; he just rubs the backs of his fingers over her knuckles.
“Just rest.”

She gives only half a nod before sleep overcomes her and her
breath becomes deep and slow. Wes watches her for a few minutes longer and
finally stands, careful not to move the bed too much. His head whips around to
me, as if he’s just remembering I’m here, and the first thing I notice is the
solitary trail of moisture down his left cheek. Seeing him that vulnerable,
split that wide open, it’s a reminder of why I’m here. This is what I wanted to
help him find. And now that I’ve done that, if he doesn’t want to take a chance
on me, I think I can walk away, knowing that there’s hope for him. But, damn it,
that’s the last thing I want to do.

“We need to talk, Callie.”

Well, there are five words that I could’ve gone my entire
life without hearing again.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I know.”

CELL PHONE CLOSE by in case there
are any more updates on Chesley? Check.

Full pot of coffee to get me through this discussion with
Wes? Check.

Writhing knot of dread deep in the pit of my stomach? Check.

As I sit here in Wes’ living room, tracing my finger around
the rim of my warm mug, I can’t help but thinking that I’m in for a major
change. It’s like the barometric pressure in my life just bottomed out.
Something is looming on the horizon. Wes hasn’t given any indication of what he
wants to talk about, but I’m absolutely certain that it’s about us.

Before we went to the hospital earlier today, Wes and I were
at a strange crossroads, and I felt like we were spinning in circles instead of
choosing a way. First, he told me he didn’t want to be with me, then he chased
me to my car and kissed me. Next, he was right back to
not
wanting me.
His moods have seemed to teeter-totter all day, and damn it, I’m tired of this
ride.

Wes walks back into the living room after changing into a
loose t-shirt and jersey knit shorts. “Need a refill?” he asks, motioning to my
cup.

“I’m good for now.” As he heads into the kitchen, I glance
out the window at the first sliver of moonlight peeking through the trees. I
have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.

He lazily strolls back in, mug in hand, and carefully sinks
into the couch beside me and takes a hesitant sip. “I don’t know how you drink
coffee in the middle of the summer, but I’m hoping it helps me lift the fog I’m
in. I feel like my brain is a pile of shit baking in the desert heat right
now.”

I smirk. “Impressive analogy.”

“I never claimed to be a poet.” He cuts his eyes at me, but
the corner of his mouth curves up in the slightest grin. I almost forgot what
he looks like when he smiles. Playful. Charming.
Hot.

“What’s that weird thing you’re doing with your mouth? It
almost looks like a smile, but the great and powerful Wesley Baxter wouldn’t
dare.” My joking brings it out full-force. My God, he’s gorgeous.

“I smile all the time, asshole.” He swats at me with a throw
pillow. “Maybe if you’d stop making it your life’s mission to piss me off, you’d
see it more often.”

My jaw drops. “
Me
?”

“You.”

“Excuse me, but wasn’t it
you
who openly admitted to
being an ass to push me away?”

Wes’ smile slides right off his face. “I guess you’re
right.” He sets his mug on the thick stone coaster on the coffee table and
shifts to face me. “That’s kinda what I want to talk to you about.”

“I’m not going to push anymore, Wes. If and when you decide
you want anything more, we can talk about it. I’m here to be your friend, and
you don’t have a choice in that matter. But I can’t force you to love me. I
know that.”

He lets out a groan. “Do you ever let anyone talk before you
throw your two cents in?” He takes my coffee away and sets it next to his
before grabbing both of my hands and looking directly at me. “Look, I know why
you pushed me to meet my mother, and you and my mom are completely right. It’s
something I’ve needed. Even though we’ve only shared just a few words, I feel
more complete somehow, settled. Meeting her was probably one of the best things
I’ve ever done for myself.
But
. . .”

“Of course, you’d have to throw a ‘but’ in there.”

He looks down at our hands, exhales a long, slow breath, and
eases his weightless gaze back up to peer directly into my eyes. “I know you
thought that I needed to meet her in order to find some peace in my life, to be
able to allow myself to love someone. But when we were here earlier today, and
you were about to leave, I realized that all I’ve ever needed was you.
You’ve
helped me see that I want more out of my life. Right before your phone rang, I
was about to tell you something that I’ve only said to my family and one other
person, and I question now whether I meant it or not then. But to be honest,
when you got that call, I was relieved I didn’t. I was thankful that I had some
time to talk myself out of it. And even though I’ve tried like hell to do that
all damn day, I can’t seem to stop thinking it.”

My breath is heaving in and out of my lungs, and adrenaline
has every muscle in my body twitching nervously. “You can always be honest with
me and tell me exactly what you’re thinking, Wes. You don’t have to keep
everything to yourself anymore.”

“I know,” he says, his gentle blue eyes brighten slightly.
“I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer, if I tried. Callie . . . I’m
hopelessly, irreversibly, and completely . . . I mean . . . damn it.” He
grimaces, his top lip in a half-snarl. “Let me start over. Callie . . . I’m in
love with you.”

Oh. My. God. I can’t breathe. I can’t freaking breathe. He’s
in love with me? Well, that doesn’t mean he actually
loves
me. There’s a
difference right? In love with me. Wait. Nope. No matter how I spin it, I can’t
see how I’d ever misinterpret the meaning. Wesley Baxter is in love with me.
Damn it. I’m going to pass out if I don’t breathe soon.

“Uh, Cal?”

I pull out of my temporary stupor and take a shaky breath.
“Yeah?”

“Seriously?” He jerks his hands from mine and fists one in
the top of his hair. “From the moment I met you, you’ve had the biggest mouth
of anyone I’ve ever known, and you choose
now
to lose your tongue? I
swear you’ve got to be the most infuriating woman—”

I fling myself at him carelessly, wrapping my arms around
his neck and interrupting his rant. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

His eyes narrow playfully as a smug grin plays on his lips.
“But deep down, I’ve known it for a long time. Do you remember when we were at
the banquet, and my mom said something about embers?”

I think back to that night . . . and what happened
afterward. “Yeah, you said there were more than a few, whatever that meant.”

“My mom has always been full of quirky little sayings, but
there are a certain few that have always stuck with me.” He pauses to brush a
strand of hair from my brow. “She’s says that love is a fire, and you can never
tell if it’s going to warm your heart or burn down your house. She could tell
immediately that you sparked something. And I can honestly say, sweetheart,
that you started a wildfire, completely obliterating everything I have inside
of me. There’s nothing left, just a clean slate.”

“That’s, by far, the most meaningful thing anyone has ever
said to me. It makes me feel good to know that I’ve been able to make that kind
of difference in you.” This is way too much to absorb. I never thought we’d
actually get to this point. “Even if you’ve fought me at every turn, you’re
worth it to me.”

His eyes crinkle when his mouth turns up into a
full-fledged, beaming grin, making my stomach flutter, my limbs go numb, and my
head spin. “That’s all I’ve ever needed, Callie. I just couldn’t see through
all of my own shit to see it.” His hands graze up my ribs, and out of nowhere,
a languid heat rolls over my body and settles low in my belly. A feeling that I
want more of. A feeling that I don’t have to fight anymore.

I lean in until I’m right up to his ear. “I love you, Wes,”
I whisper, skimming my lips right along the outside edge and peeking my tongue
out just enough to graze his soft lobe. I hear the sharp intake of breath just
as his fingers grasp my hips.

His mouth finds the tender skin just at the hollow of my
collarbone, and he trails blazing kisses up my neck until he reaches the turn
of my jaw. He pulls back ever-so-slightly, just enough for his smoldering
aquamarine gaze to lock onto my eyes. “I love
you
, Callie.”

Without any further hesitation, he leans in, his mouth
taking my bottom lip with a gentle tug. My fingers knead into the warm ridges
of muscle along his spine, and I press my body closer to his, leaving only the
thin fabric of our shirts to keep us apart. And that’s much too far. I’ve missed
him. Not just him, but this deeper level of connection that I feel every time
we’re close like this. Every single time, I crave him just a little more.

There are so many reasons that I’m telling myself that I
should hold back, though. That I shouldn’t give into his tender touch. His
intoxicating kisses. With every rise that our relationship has had, there’s
also been a careening fall into a fiery pit of hell. Every time I think we’re
getting somewhere, he turns back into Mr. Hyde.

But all of those reasons vaporize into obscurity when his
lips brush across mine, so whisper soft that it’s almost like they aren’t there
at all, leaving only one thought in my feeble mind—I want more. I crumple a
handful of his t-shirt in my fist, jerk him closer, and hang onto him with
everything I have. Screw the light and sweet crap. I crush my mouth to his,
eliciting a muffled groan from deep in his chest, and one of his hands
immediately slides down to grip the back of one thigh, nearly picking me up to
straddle his lap without his mouth ever leaving mine. As soon as I settle over
him, his fingertips bite into the tender flesh just under the waistband of my
shorts as he roughly rolls my hips over him, grinding his obvious arousal
against me.

It’s at this moment that I realize I’m too far gone. I know
that there’s no way in hell I’m turning back now. Not that he’d give me any
choice in the matter.

Suddenly, Wes stands so quickly that I feel as if I’ve taken
flight, but I remain wrapped tightly against his taut frame. He continues to
kiss me as he walks, nearly bruising my lips with his delicious assault, but he
doesn’t go too far. After bumping the light switch with his elbow, he moves
back toward the couch, but he stops short, kneeling on the plush rug in the
center of the room. Snagging the bottom of my shirt in his fingers, he breaks
the kiss to yank it up over my head and fling it across the room. When it lands
on a lampshade, I have to stifle a giggle.

“Apparently, I’m not doing a good enough job if you’re
laughing,” he half-jokes. The moonlight streaming through the window makes his
eyes look like glistening pools of liquid silver. “We don’t have to take this
any further.”

I raise one eyebrow at him. “Oh, yeah we do.” Following his
lead, I find the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head, not at all
surprised that he allows it so willingly. I judge the distance to the lamp
where my shirt currently resides, and I launch his shirt to join mine as a
joke. But of course, it lands just a few feet from us.

“You’re such a girl,” he laughs.

“Correction . . . I’m a lady. Bite me.” Of course, I didn’t
mean
literally
.

But he takes it that way. “You only have to ask me once.”

Before I can say that I was kidding, his teeth are already
scraping down the side of my neck, stopping to nibble gently once he reaches my
shoulder, but becoming harder as he works his way across my chest. At the same
time, his arms brace me, lowering me onto the rug slowly until I feel the
weight of him over me. It feels so good to have him this close that I wrap my
legs around him tighter and arch my chest back up to his mouth. But being the
tease he is, he backs away slightly, holding all of his weight with one arm and
using the other hand to effortlessly unclasp my bra.

“I’d like to shake the hand of the smart bastard that
invented these bras that open in the front,” he says, positioning himself back
over me.

“Right now? You’re talking about the inventor of bras . . .
right
now
?”

“No,” he smirks. “I’m doing this right now.” And he bends
down to catch one of my nipples between his teeth, causing me to moan so loud
that I can hear it echo in the kitchen.

The odd combination of sucking and biting has some seriously
involuntary gymnastics going on deep in my belly, and I swear that I’m digging
my fingernails into his back so hard that they’re bending backward. Good God,
this man can do some insane things with his mouth. Just when I’m getting more
accustomed to the sensation, he moves to the other one, treating it in the same
manner. The sharp biting pleasure of pain has me writhing against him, begging
for more . . . or less . . . no, definitely more.

Much more.

Which is what I get when he moves to lie beside me, his hand
moving to my waist to flick open the button of my shorts. I begin to
protest—although I’m not sure why—but as soon as he latches onto my breast
again and his hand slips into my panties, I’m lost all over again. I’m exiled
to a carnal darkness that I could live in forever. The scorching heat. The
unrelenting sensation. It’s a wicked kind of bliss that I’ve only felt with
him.

Yeah, I’ve had sex before. A lot of it, actually. But it’s
always seemed more like a routine. Mechanical. Kind of like watching the same
movie over and over again. You like the movie, there are a lot of ups and
downs, but it’s the same every time you watch it. Even the ending is sweet, but
again, it’s always the same. And no matter how much you kid yourself, even the
climax itself was quite anticlimactic.