You're Still the One (12 page)

Her way was infinitely more dangerous.

“I didn’t realize tonight was Skype night.” Charlie shoved his hands in his deep pockets but didn’t budge. The last thing he wanted was to go home alone. “If you two are busy, we can do it another time.”

“Not so fast there, hot shot,” Lana said, adjusting the screen so she could address him directly. “I want to hear more about this adventure.”

A co-conspirator. Charlie grinned. “We’ve been working hard, and I figured we should let off some steam. Not sure if she told you, but Arabella’s been whipping my sorry ass into shape, organizing my foundation, bringing in people and resources I never would’ve thought of.”

She was making his dream a reality was what she was doing. Every day a new goal was met. At this rate, Life & Lyrics would be up and running in no time, as long as Stone kept up his side of the bargain. He glanced at Arabella and fought another wave of guilt. It sucked, hiding things from her, especially after her help with the foundation. It was the one downside to all of this.

“I thought we could focus on her for a change,” he told Lana. “It’s not like that top ten list will complete itself.” He shrugged, dangling that carrot. “But if you’re busy now, we can reschedule.”

Three, two, one…

“No!”

Arabella grasped his wrist, preventing him from leaving, and an electric surge shot through his body. Her soft gasp and dazed eyes said she’d felt it, too. Their eyes locked, and Charlie fought the desire to tug her over the couch and into his arms.

Lana cleared her throat. Loudly. “What number on the list you plan on slaying?”

Arabella dropped his wrist, and Charlie took a healthy step back. “I don’t know the order,” he replied, clenching his hands at his side. The fire in his blood screamed that this was a bad idea…but he was doing it anyway. “It’s one that she’d been worried about and I found an easy solution.”

Girls told each other everything, and these two were close, but Charlie didn’t want to embarrass Arabella by airing her business in case she’d kept a few of the particulars from her best friend. Plus, the future prosecutor sort of terrified him. But when Lana sent him a look that said
spill it or else
, he figured what the hell.

“Skinny-dipping.”

You could’ve heard a pin drop.

Arabella’s jaw dropped, her pink cheeks growing crimson, and Lana narrowed her eyes to study him. He had an inkling what her future defendants would feel like, and he didn’t envy them one bit.

“Tyler and Sherry are out for the night,” he explained, “so I thought we’d use their pool. It’s secluded, dark, and I’ll even keep the lights off, so I won’t see a thing.” Of course, he left out the part about him having excellent night vision, but that was a minor detail.

Arabella covered her mouth and turned to face Lana, seeking approval, permission, or some combination of the two. What she got was a saucy wink.

“Call me when you get home,” Lana said, a wicked smile on her face. “I’m gonna need descriptive details. Later, Sexy Charlie.”

And with that, the video ended.

Arabella’s shoulders rose and fell with an audible breath, and sensing her hesitation, Charlie ran his fingers through his mop of hair, fisting the ends. He wasn’t trying to push her. Admittedly, he wasn’t dreading the idea of seeing glimpses of her wet, naked skin, but he’d honestly thought this was an answer to her problem. No one would see her at Tyler’s. She could swim without fear and still have the delicious sense of being wicked.

But if she wasn’t ready…

“I guess I won’t be needing my suit,” she murmured, fidgeting with the hem of her nightshirt, and Charlie stilled.

She was considering it.

This was good. This was what he’d wanted. Why he’d grabbed his keys and come over when Tyler called, asking him to let out their dog Elvis. But part of him had suspected she wouldn’t go through with it.

He dropped his hands and swallowed hard. “Nope.”

His voice was a rasp, an unintended clue to the storm raging beneath his skin. Arabella stiffened and slowly turned, her eyes wide and swirling with excitement and fear. He knew because it was the same emotions going crazy in him. She bit her lip, straight white teeth dragging across the tender flesh before releasing it, and said, “All right. Let’s do this.”

Honestly? He didn’t know if he was scared or relieved.

Chapter Eleven

“Breathe, sugar. There’s nothing to it. Just pretend you’re alone.”

Arabella snorted at the ridiculousness of that statement. “
Right.
See, the problem with that, Obi-Wan, is that I’d be just as nervous if I were alone. As you recall, my last foray into list-inspired nudity resulted in a full monty situation.”

Across the darkened porch, Ella heard Charlie choke. Yep, she’d gone there.
Finally.

She was exhausted from constantly dancing around the big, honking elephant in the room. Obviously having seen her half naked wasn’t that big of a deal, because nothing had really changed between them. Charlie hadn’t ravished her in the middle of the night or even hinted that he wanted a repeat of the peep show—not that she was offering—so clearly, he hadn’t been impressed. If that was the case, then really, she shouldn’t be stressing now.

She was totally stressing.

This wasn’t anything like she’d imagined. First of all, Tyler and Sherry’s neighborhood was darling, but when Charlie had suggested their home as the ideal location to go skinny-dipping, she’d envisioned a huge estate with a pool to rival the Playboy Mansion. What she got was a cute, modest, old-style, southern home on a quiet cul-de-sac.

Charlie had explained that this was typical Magnolia Springs. Here, they didn’t need a huge gated community or acres and acres of land. People didn’t care about money or celebrity. The only things that mattered were how kind you were, what team you rooted for (hint: always say the Saints), and how spicy you seasoned your seafood.

While that was all well and good, and Arabella appreciated the charm of the neighborhood, he was overlooking a huge benefit from the sprawling acreage of most celebrity homes:

Seclusion
.

Tyler’s neighbors surrounded him on three sides. The so-called privacy fence bordering the property didn’t do squat for those towering second-story windows. And while said windows currently all sat dark, the moon was heavy and half full in the sky. There was more than enough light reflecting off the surface if a wandering eye should awaken and decide to catch a peek.

As for the pool in question, it was absolutely adorable with its rushing waterfall and soothing, blue-tinted underwater lights…but it was a whole lot smaller than she’d anticipated. Like, so small it could be considered a lap pool. As in she’d be practically sitting on Charlie’s lap.
Naked.

“How about this?” he said, voice low and husky in the dark. “I’ll go first.”

The rustle of fabric in the otherwise quiet night told her he was stripping down, and Arabella squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden whirlwind of emotions. That was the
other
thing about this little adventure of hers. It was no longer a solo dip.

Charlie would be naked, too.

A hiss of fabric sounded behind her, and Ella’s heart pounded in her ears.

Correction: Charlie
was
naked. Right now. Just a few feet away. Swinging free in the nonexistent breeze.

Heaven help me.

Soft footsteps crept toward her, and Arabella almost swallowed her tongue. Touching his bare skin would be easy—
so
easy—as easy as stretching a hand back and extending her fingertips. Her hands clenched at her sides.

How many nights had she lain in bed, dreaming of this very scenario? Or if not
this
scenario, one almost identical? Sexual tension crackling in the air, a naked Charlie within reaching distance and breathing heavily, waiting to see what she’d do next.

Of course, there were two major differences between fantasy and reality. In those dreams, Ella had also been naked…and Charlie had wanted her, too.

“I’m gonna get in the water, darlin’,” he said, and a hundred chill bumps erupted across her skin. Only a thin robe and the warm night air stood between them. “You take as long as you need, and you come join me when you’re ready. I’ll even keep my back turned, okay?”

He was being so thoughtful. Kind and gentle, doing everything in his power to help her conquer her list and ensure that she was comfortable. And the only thought circling her brain right now was,
why can’t you see me?

The true stinger was that he
had
seen her once. That night at Country Roads. She’d even seen tiny flares of interest since then, whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. But he always shut it down. Shuttered it behind an unaffected expression of friendliness and disinterest.

Had he changed his mind because of who her dad was? Or was it because of
her
? Was she not desirable enough?
Sexy
enough? Brazen and bold enough?

“Arabella?”

She nodded at the concern in his voice, unable to speak past the silly lump in her throat, and after only the slightest hesitation, Charlie padded by on his way toward the softly lit pool.

The proper thing would be to avert her eyes. To keep them shut and give Charlie the same courtesy he’d extended her: privacy and respect. That was what she
should’ve
done…but it wasn’t what she did. Even as guilt hit her stomach, her eyes remained fully open. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was missing this view.

Charlie Tucker was beautiful.

The glow of the moon hugged the ridges of firm muscle rippling his back, highlighting his strength with the interplay of light and shadow. His broad shoulders were massive, like a linebacker, sharp and defined. The bulges his clothes hinted at during the day were on mouthwatering display, flexing and bunching as he took the first step into the water.

Dappled moonlight played across the skin her fingers itched to touch. Charlie was a large man; his thighs were as thick as tree trunks, and his arms were the size of her head. But she’d never realized just how perfect he was.

Licking her lips, Arabella let her gaze dip lower.

His ass was a revelation.

Water lapped against his waist as he waded farther and farther into the pool. As promised, he headed straight for the other side, eventually resting his arms along the stone walkway as he kept his back turned. He was the picture of patience, the consummate southern gentleman. But that was the problem. Ella didn’t
want
the gentleman. She wanted the fantasy.

What would it take for the bad boy to pay a visit?

The question was dangerous. Even thinking it was playing with fire…but Ella’s summer motto existed for a reason. Biting her lip, she contemplated whether she could really do it, let loose and not worry about the consequences of her actions. Live in the moment.

Her hands were at her belt before she’d realized her decision. Her robe fell in a puddle at her feet and she stepped out quickly, shivering as the night air slid across her skin. It wasn’t cold. Summer in Louisiana was never cold, day or night. Awareness was what pricked her skin. Awareness and excitement…and the smallest hint of possibility.

Heart fluttering like a hummingbird, Ella picked her way across the stones, the steps still warm from the day’s brutal sun. She lowered herself, one concrete step at a time, until the tepid water lapped against the undersides of her breasts. She gasped at the sensation.

If she’d thought the biker bar felt decadent, this was positively wicked. Never in her wildest dreams had Arabella considered checking skinny-dipping off her list in this way, with neighbors potentially watching, and a naked Charlie Tucker as a wingman.

He tensed as she glided across the pool, the muscles of his back like chiseled marble. She’d love to believe it was because of her, that he longed to touch her as badly as she wanted to be touched. But she knew him well enough to know that even if he
did,
he’d never act on the desire. Not unless his guard was down.

So, Arabella did what any self-respecting woman in her situation would do. She dipped her hands into the water on either side of her body, gently cupping them so as not to make any sudden waves. She grinned as she bent her knees for leverage…and then, stifling a laugh, swung her hands high and up into the air.

Splash.

Charlie cursed as water rained, falling like a sheet over his head. His neck snapped back, flicking his unruly dark hair out of his eyes, and his shoulders raised to meet his ears.

Immediately, Arabella started backpedaling.

Fans of romantic comedies, and anyone who swam with boys in high school, knew what came next. She’d awoken the sleeping bad-boy giant, or so she hoped, but somehow, even as she kicked away as hard as she could, she couldn’t excite the proper trepidation. She wanted this,
wanted
him to come after her.

But she had to make the chase look realistic.

“Oh, you think you’re funny, don’t you?” Charlie’s smile was as big and dangerous as a bloodthirsty alligator, and Ella squealed as he took his first looming step. “You better run, sweet girl. It’s on now.”

Arabella kicked her feet, shooting water in his face. “Bring it, Tucker!”

Please, please, bring it, Tucker.

Charlie dove and Ella screamed, flopping forward to escape.

One thing she hadn’t accounted for: water resistance. Running in a pool wasn’t easy, especially not when one’s attacker had the apparent wingspan of the Spruce Goose. Charlie caught up with her easily, his strong arms wrapping around her waist within seconds, lifting her high and out of the water as Ella continued to struggle even though it was futile.

One second, cool air blew across her naked skin. The next, she was plunged back under.

Chlorine hit her nose, and Arabella sprang back up, sputtering and laughing, before charging straight ahead. Charlie grinned as she called out threats, his eyes never once losing that challenging edge. It electrified her, made her forget all about her nakedness. Or rather, the discomfort that came with it.

She never actually forgot they were naked.

Bare skin brushed beneath the water. The crisp hair on Charlie’s legs and arms tickled her skin. And his eyes…his sexy, bedroom eyes…kept wandering and then bouncing away, only to do it again.

Hers did, too.

No, there was no forgetting their mutual nakedness and, as the laughter subsided, Ella couldn’t fight the spark of hope that maybe they’d cross off another activity, too. She wasn’t holding out for making passionate love beneath the stars, or anything—although that would make an
excellent
addition to her list. No, what she had her heart set on was more innocent, yet just as magical in her eyes. Experiencing a toe-curling kiss.

Charlie exhaled raggedly, his breath heavy from exertion, and his gaze met hers across the shallow end of the pool. The thick knot in his throat bobbed, and Arabella had the inexplicable urge to nip it. To graze her teeth across the stubbled skin and then lick it, soothing the sting.

As if reading her mind, Charlie’s eyes fell and clung to her parted lips. Her tongue darted out of its own volition, swiping her bottom lip. Encouraging him. Teasing. He swallowed again and then dipped his gaze lower to where her chest rose and fell with choppy, uneven breaths, the water sloshing across the peaks with each inhale. Other than that, she didn’t dare move.

Ella held absolutely, perfectly still, afraid of scaring the moment away.

And then…it happened.

Charlie took the first step. Arabella the second. Soon they stood a mere heartbeat away from each other…the toe-curling kiss…the possibility of more.

With her eyes, Ella urged him to close the scant distance that remained, and to take what she desperately hoped they both wanted. A battle raged in his eyes, and Charlie closed them briefly with a groan, shaking his head once before his hands shot out and closed around her arms.

Slam.

Ella jumped, knocking his hands away as she spun to face the gate.

What the hell was that?

Over the fence, a woman’s voice rose in the night. “Come on, music man, let’s get your drunk ass to bed.”

“Not drunk,” claimed a second voice, a
male
voice, and Arabella clamped her arms across her naked chest. “Just had to get your sexy ass home. The things I want to do to you aren’t fit for your childhood bedroom.”

“Uh-huh. That’s why you told my brother-in-law that musicians were hotter than firemen, and that you could out-fish him any day of the week?” The woman’s laugh floated up to the sky, along with the metallic jingle of keys. “Because my thought is that your liver’s going through a Vegas repeat, and we both know how
that
turned out.”

“Yep. With you in my bed and my ring on your finger.”

Arabella’s breaths were ragged, straining to hear in the silence that followed the man’s arrogant response, and she blushed as the unmistakable sound of muffled gasps and soft moans hit her ears.

Charlie’s breath was hot against her neck as he whispered, “Tyler came home early.”

“You
think
?” She whirled around, her arms still clasped around her naked body. It wasn’t Charlie’s fault their night was cut short or that she was so indisposed. It was
her
top-ten list, after all. But she was confused, embarrassed, and so dang
aroused
that she couldn’t help but take it out on him. “What in the heck are we supposed to do?”

He shrugged. “Get dressed and go home, I guess.”

The man had the audacity to wink before swimming away, cutting through the water like a steely ninja, as if the last hour of not-so-innocent brushes and flirtation hadn’t happened.

Ella stood there, wishing she could’ve had just a
few
more minutes, and then followed in his wake, scampering out of the pool as quietly as she could toward her bathrobe.

The terrycloth scrap of fabric was all she’d brought. They’d come out here tonight with one purpose and one purpose only, getting naked, so extra clothes had seemed downright silly, if not an unnecessary nuisance. Boy, was she regretting that decision now.

Turning so that her back faced Charlie, a ridiculous nod toward modesty considering their naked romp in the pool, she tugged on the warm robe and cinched it tight. There was a weirdness in the air that she didn’t know how to fix. Her poor attitude certainly didn’t help, but the millions of questions firing in her brain short-circuited her ability to calm down.