

Pink Champagne

Nicole Green

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012
Chapter 1

Quenby paced back and forth, her white heels clicking against the wooden floor. Macon and Indigo kept trying to get her to stand still so they could pin on her veil, but she wasn't having it.

She was dressed the part, but no longer sure there was going to be a wedding. Macon had done Quenby's hair up in a French roll, topped with a tiara, but her veil lay on a nearby table. Her friends had given up on trying to pin it on her for the moment.

"At least I know what I'm getting with him." She knew she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince them, but she didn't care. "Guys cheat. It's what they do. He would never leave me. He hasn't so far." Besides, he was financially stable, intellectual, and dependable—other than the cheating thing.

"Yeah." Indigo, her maid of honor, snorted. "I guess that's true. He didn't leave you the first time or the second, or...what number is Lisa? Fourth? Fifth? Tenth?"

"Please," Quenby said. "There have _not_ been ten." Her gown had a tight bodice glittering with rhinestones. The skirt billowed out around her. She had to lift it up in both hands to keep from tripping over it as she paced back and forth across the room.

"I don't know why you're doing this to yourself, Quen. You're so much better than him." Macon, Quenby's friend from her college field hockey team, threw up her hands. She wore her wavy brown hair loose down her back and her red, strapless gown showed off her tanned shoulders. Macon was one of Quenby's bridesmaids. Or she would be if the wedding happened.

She wouldn't cry and ruin her makeup. The warm tones Indigo had blended on her face and that went so well with her reddish brown skin were too perfect for her to mess up with her stupid tears.

"He was late. To his own wedding. And now he's standing out there all smug," Quenby muttered.

"What was that?" Indigo perked up. "Was that the sound of you coming to your senses?"

"Not everybody has a marriage based on monogamy. What about swingers?" She never stopped pacing as she spoke.

Indigo shook her head, the small diamond stud in her nose flashing in the sunlight. "That's crazy talk. It's hard enough for me to be here for this without you talking crazy talk."

The song changed. Indigo and Macon looked at each other as if they were attending a funeral instead of a wedding.

"That's our cue, I guess," Indigo said. She lingered as if hoping Quenby would tell her not to take that cue.

"Last chance, Quen," Macon said.

Quenby nodded, waving them out of the door. "It's fine. Really." She watched them walk out of the double doors with the other bridesmaid. The three of them let the doors close after them.

She'd just found out Derek spent the night with some woman named Lisa after his bachelor party. Adia had caught them and told Quenby. Adia had been too disgusted to show up at the wedding that day. Hypocrite.

When the wedding march came on, Quenby walked out of the dressing room and woodenly took her father's arm. She plastered on a smile for her dad who was completely in the dark about Derek's indiscretions. Her dad already treated Derek like a son.

He led her down the aisle to her groom. She felt so cheated that she couldn't enjoy the sight of him. Broad shoulders under his black tux. Auburn hair cut close. Green eyes twinkling at her. Looking like he could do no wrong.

Her friends thought she was blind to all his wrongdoing. At least she knew what she was getting with Derek. He was handsome, smart, and he had a great job. And guys were going to cheat. That was the way it was. Her mom and dad had gone through their ugly days when her dad was younger and couldn't keep his eyes or hands to himself. Derek would probably grow out of it, too. Just like her dad.

She kept telling herself this as her dad gave her away and Derek smiled into her face. It was that smile that started undoing her resolve. Then he mouthed 'I love you' to her while the preacher was rambling away. She couldn't concentrate on the preacher's words because a sick feeling of rage and humiliation came over her in that moment. Derek really thought she was an idiot. He could at least acknowledge that she knew what the situation was as well as he did.

She glanced behind her. Indigo gave her a look that clearly said, "don't do it." Macon didn't look much happier.

When the preacher asked if anybody had any objections, Quenby found herself saying, "I do."

"No, honey. Not yet," Derek said. Murmurs of laughter followed his statement. She had to turn away from his stupid grin before she slapped it off his face.

She looked out into the congregation. What would she say to those people? The groom was a whore? Sorry and thank you for coming?

"No, Derek. I can't do this," she said. The church went dead silent.

The smile faded from his face. "Can't do what?"

Quenby stumbled backward a step and felt Indigo's hand close over hers. Clearing her throat, she continued in a loud, steady voice. "I'm not marrying you."

Macon stepped forward to make a quick, impromptu speech to the guests. Indigo, Derek, and Quenby stepped into an alcove behind the altar.

"You're not—what? Why?" He looked genuinely confused. How was that possible? Then again, knowing the size of his ego, how could she ask that?

"You know why," Quenby hissed.

"Quenby, this is not the time or the place," he said from behind that fake grin.

Indigo threw down her bouquet. "Don't you dare talk about the time or the place now." She stepped between him and Quenby said in a hushed yet angry tone, "You weren't thinking about all that last night."

"I'm talking to Quenby." Derek lost the fake smile and craned his neck to look Quenby in the eyes.

"What did you just say to me?" Indigo barked.

"No, you're not," Quenby said. "I'm done with you."

"What the—you can't just—I mean, there are people from my company here." He shook his head. "What's gotten into you?"

"No, it's what you got into, not me. Lisa ring a bell?"

Derek groaned and rolled his eyes. "Fucking Adia."

"Don't you dare talk about my friend like that."

"Like your friend has room to talk." Derek darted a glance at Macon's back.

"At least he's honest about the way he is." Quenby didn't agree with what Adia had done, but she was certainly going to defend him to this creep she'd almost married.

"Geez, I thought the two of you weren't even talking anymore after what he did to Macon."

"So that made it safe for you to do your dirt, huh?" Quenby sneered at him.

"Quenby, let's just talk this out. Don't do this. Don't throw us away."

"I'm not the one who did the throwing."

"I love you."

"Don't you say that. After all the chances I gave you." Quenby's voice was oddly flat. Then, she screamed. "Don't you say that shit!"

"Do you have to be so loud?" he asked, putting his hands up. "Calm down."

Some of the guests who were leaving the church turned and looked over their shoulders to see what all the commotion was. Derek assured them everything was fine.

"Okay. You've done enough damage. Why don't you just go?" Indigo said.

Derek said, "Again. This is between me and Quenby." He glared at Indigo.

"Don't talk to her like that." Quenby shook her head. "And don't you mean it's between me, _Lisa_ , and you?"

"Why now? You could've let me know something before we got up in front of all of these people."

"That's all that matters to you, huh? Appearances."

"Okay, I'm done." He shook his head and threw her a disgusted look. "You want me gone? I'm gone." He started to walk away.

"Good riddance," Quenby said even though part of her still wondered if she'd made the right decision. Just a tiny, stupid part. They'd been together for five years, since her sophomore year of college, so it was kind of hard to ignore that nagging bit of doubt.

He stopped and turned around. "And you know what else? It got boring in the bedroom at the end. Better the next guy than me."

Quenby's mouth dropped open in shock. Indigo started to step forward, but Quenby held her back. This was Quenby's fight.

"I'm done. Through with your lying and cheating forever," Quenby said. She clenched her teeth.

"You'll be sorry. I won't," Derek said. He headed for the back door to the church. Quenby looked all around, but there was nothing handy to throw at him. She took off her heels and aimed them at him. Two perfect shots caught him in the back of his head. He grabbed the base of his neck, yowling from shock, pain, or both. He turned, offered her some choice words, and walked out of the church between his mother and best man.

"Quen," Indigo said softly, taking her by the arm. She and Macon led Quenby back to her makeshift dressing room. Quenby sagged against her friends, emotionally eviscerated, letting them drag her behind the doors. She leaned against a wall before sliding down it until she was in a sitting position. She then sprawled out on the floor.

Macon called out, "Your dress!"

Quenby ignored her.

Indigo pulled up the top of her red, satin dress. "You know you made the right decision."

Macon said, "Quenby, say something, anything, just so we know you're not in shock."

"That bastard," she murmured.

Her friends had to agree.
Chapter 2

Caleb let out a low whistle as the last of the guests filtered out of the back of the church. It'd been quite a shindig already, and apparently there was more to come. Before everyone left, one of Macon's friends had made an announcement that everyone should still head over to the reception site for a party. As they left the church, some people muttered about how they couldn't wait to see what kind of party it was going to be after what happened.

As he was leaving, one man said, "All I know, and all I need to know, is there's going to be booze."

Caleb watched Macon dash down the aisle to where he lounged in the last pew. Her brown hair bounced against her shoulders as she ran, and her blue eyes were wide and frantic looking. She braced her hands against the back of the pew in front of him and leaned over it. "I'm gonna stay here a while longer and ride over to the community center with Indigo."

"What about your friend?" he asked. "The, uh, bride." Should he still call her that?

"She's riding over with her mom and Talitha," Macon said. "You have a piece of paper or anything? And a pen?"

"I have my phone." He pulled it out of his pocket. "Why?"

"Good, put this address in your GPS. It's for the place where the reception's going to be held. It's the community center in a subdivision near here." She blew a puff of air upward, temporarily lifting her bangs from her forehead. "I'll meet you over there."

"Go ahead," he said after pulling up the GPS on his phone. She rattled off an address, and he typed it in.

The woman who'd made the announcement about the party earlier appeared from behind a door at the other end of the church. She said, "Macon, what's taking you so long? We need you back here."

"Gotta go, thanks, bye." With that, she was gone, jogging down the aisle. The carpet muted the sounds her heels made as they thumped the floor.

Caleb looked down at his phone, flipping it back and forth between his hands. Macon hadn't mentioned anything about the bride being such a looker. Then again, why would she have? The woman was supposed to have been taken. But she wasn't. A good thing because the groom had been a real jerk. For that and...maybe other reasons...he was glad she remained single.

Quenby. He was pretty sure that was her name. He'd never heard of her until a few days ago when Macon decided to drag him on a plane and all the way to Virginia to be her wedding date after her original date backed out at the last minute. She claimed she couldn't go up there without a date in case Adia showed at the wedding.

He could've gone sailing with his dad and brother that weekend, but there'd be plenty other weekends for that. It was good to get away sometimes. Besides, Caleb was all for doing his part to keep distance between his cousin and Adia. And he'd never been to Virginia before that weekend. Tagging along had been the right decision for more reasons than one. He thought of the one glimpse he'd gotten of the bride's face when she'd turned around and told them there would be no wedding. Angry, scared, or maybe both, but still beautiful. She'd made him forget all about whatever it was he'd been checking on his phone.

Good thing she was all the way up here in Virginia and he lived in Georgia. That kind of beauty could make him forget about his strike against relationships. And that was not the kind of thing it would be smart to forget. Like he told his mama every time she started hinting around about who was eligible and whose daughter needed a date to her niece's debutante ball and all that other nonsense, women were nothing but trouble. He planned on steering clear of them for awhile. Well actually, he told Mama he was "focusing on his studies." Mama Fletcher-Smith didn't tolerate insubordination, after all, and he avoided picking a fight with that woman when at all possible.

He stood, stretched, and checked his pocket to make sure the key for the rental car was still there. After taking a last look around, he walked out of the glass door at the back of the church. Blinking against the late afternoon sunshine, he looked toward the parking lot at the side of the church. It was almost empty now, but a few people stood in groups, talking and laughing.

Time to get over to the community center. With any luck, he would at least get to meet this Quenby. After all, looking never hurt anyone, and he sure enjoyed looking at her.

He followed the GPS lady's instructions to a subdivision a few miles away from the church. A concrete sign with brick pillars on either side of it was on his right as he turned onto the road that led into the community. Harper's Row was written on the sign in large, burgundy script.

He drove slowly past the cookie-cutter, two story, Colonial style houses. Spying a small parking lot in front of a square, brick building at the back of the subdivision, he pulled in and parked. He got out of the car and hit the "lock" button on the remote. He looked around at the few cars scattered in the parking lot. He didn't know anybody, and it was going to be kind of hard to just blend in with the crowd with so few people there. He had two options: go inside and shuffle around, making small talk with strangers until Macon showed up or wander around outside for a while.

Option two seemed more appealing. He preferred being outdoors whenever possible. He started whistling the melody to a song that kept coming on the radio recently—he couldn't remember the name of it, but it seemed like that song was everywhere those days—and headed for the back of the building.

He almost collided with a woman coming out of the building. She wore what seemed to be a caterer's uniform—black pants, a white blouse, and a black vest and bowtie. She was barking into her phone while tugging at her hair and seemed not to notice him at first.

"Whoa. Sorry about that," he said, grabbing her shoulder to steady her.

She seemed annoyed until she looked up at his face. Then she smiled. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Can I help you with anything?" he asked. She seemed pretty stressed out.

"We've got it under control." She nodded to a white van at the other end of the parking lot. Two people dressed similarly to her were shouting at each other and struggling with a stainless steel chafer.

"You sure about that?" he asked as one of them almost dropped an end of the chafer.

She looked over at the two and rolled her eyes. "Temps. Hard to find good help on short notice, you know?"

"I really don't mind helping."

"I can't put a guest to work," she said, turning her adoring gaze back to him.

He nodded in the direction of the two catering staff members. "Let's get over there before somebody gets hurt."

"Okay." She laughed.

He led the way over to the van while asking her about the catering company. He was only casually interested in her answers until she told him the company was owned by Quenby's mother.
Chapter 3

Her mother had asked her almost daily if she was sure about the pink champagne. Each time, Quenby said yes. She didn't care if it wasn't "traditional" or what her mother considered "wedding appropriate." Quenby had to have it.

She and her friends turned the reception into a Freedom Party. Quenby wasn't letting a good party go to waste. Her friends had asked a thousand times if she was sure. They seemed to think maybe she needed to go home and let the shock wear off or something. There was no shock. She was fine. Going home and sulking would mean that Derek had won. No way was she letting that happen.

Indigo made the announcement about the Freedom Party at the church to everyone still there after the debacle. She told them the wedding was off, but they were invited to Quenby's bash. Quenby had taken her hair down so that it fell over her shoulders in soft curls. She'd changed into the dress she'd bought for after the reception—a sleek, black number that showed off the shoulders she and the personal trainer at her gym worked so hard on—and headed over to the Freedom Party with her mom and Talitha.

Her mom disappeared as soon as they got there—she'd probably gone to yell at her caterers for something. She did that when she was stressed out.

Macon and Indigo came up to her and Talitha soon after they walked in the door of the community building. They seemed to come from nowhere. Quenby poured herself a glass of pink champagne while they peppered her with questions.

"Quen? Are you okay? You really sure you want to do this?" Macon asked, putting a hand on Quenby's arm and one on the side of her face like she had a fever or something.

"Yeah. I'm good." Quenby nodded. "I'm just sorry you guys came all the way here for nothing." Macon had come from Georgia and Talitha, her third bridesmaid, had come down from D.C. for the wedding.

"Are you kidding me? Don't even say things like that," Talitha said.

"Yeah. We came to be with you, and we're doing that. Wedding or not." Macon rubbed her shoulder.

Quenby nodded and gazed around the room. The cement-walled building was divided into two main spaces—a multi-purpose room and a kitchen. Not much to look at ordinarily, but with the flowers, candles, ribbons, and other decorations Quenby, her friends, and her family had spent the day and half the night before putting in place had transformed the place.

The DJ set up in a corner of the multi-purpose room. Her mom's catering crew had set out a buffet-style dinner. Why not? Everyone was already there, everything was already cooked, and there was a whole lot of food that would go to waste otherwise.

"Quen, have you had anything to eat yet?" Indigo asked.

"Not hungry." Quenby sipped from a flute full of pink champagne.

"Quen, you need to slow down on the champagne." Indigo raised her eyebrows as Quenby took another sip.

This was only her third glass. Yeah, on an empty stomach, but so what? "I guess we had a pretty good turn out for this, considering." Quenby looked around the room. None of Derek's guests had showed—not surprising. A few dozen of Quenby's guests were there, though. Everyone looked kind of somber. It seemed like they didn't know they were supposed to be partying. And when people came up to her, they seemed not to know what to say. They probably didn't feel like they could offer congratulations to her. But they should have. She had plenty to celebrate. She'd regained her common sense and barely escaped a lifetime of misery.

Indigo said, "Maybe this wasn't a good idea. We could call it all off. You know I have no problem telling these people to go home. Most of 'em just came here for a free plate anyway. You know Uncle Jessee did." Indigo and Quenby waved to Indigo's uncle. He nodded to them, mouth full of fried shrimp, and waved back.

Quenby snorted, waving her glass of champagne around as she made a gesture showing that she wasn't concerned. "The only thing wrong is these people aren't having a good time. The D.J. needs to pick up the pace or something. Once we start really having a party, everything will be fine. I'm gonna go talk to him right now."

Quenby went to the D.J.'s table. While she was talking to him, and telling him what songs she wanted him to play, Adia walked into the room.

"Well. What the hell?" Quenby murmured.

"Huh?" the D.J. said.

"I'll be right back," she said. She walked over to Adia and asked him, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to make peace with you," he said.

"I thought you weren't coming to my wedding," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. A little champagne splashed out of her glass and dribbled over her fingers, but she ignored it.

He pushed his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. "I wasn't. But, uh, Macon told me what happened. So I decided to show up for your freedom party. Figured we could talk."

"Huh. Really. Macon called you?"

"She sent me a message." He tapped the face of his phone, which rested on his hip in a belt clip, with his thumb.

"Let's go out there for a minute," Quenby nodded toward the small hallway that connected the main hall of the community center to the kitchen. She called over her shoulder to the D.J. "I'll be back. In the meantime, get these people dancing."

They walked to the hallway. She leaned against the wall and took a sip of her champagne. He was taller than Quenby, which was impressive considering she wasn't all that short, and she was wearing heels. He looked down at her with that gorgeous, angular face that got him way too much play for his own good. His thick, dark hair, olive green eyes, and Italian ancestry gave him a male model prettiness that just wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry, Quenby," he said.

"Which part of it are you sorry for? What you did to Macon? Generally being an idiot, or?..." She took another sip. She'd refilled her glass generously when they passed the table full of pink champagne bottles on their way through the "party" room.

"All of it, but especially Derek and what he did to you. I know you don't want to hear it, but—"

"He's a jerk. Better to know now than once it was all legal." Quenby stared up at him. "But you're right. I'm not ready to hear it yet, 'kay? This morning, I had plans to spend forever with that jerk."

"Thank goodness you dodged that."

"I wasn't being smart, okay?" Remembering all of the doubts she'd pushed aside about marrying Derek in those last months, she wondered what was wrong with her. Had she been so desperate to find "the one," she'd tried to force him to be it even though he clearly didn't want to be? "Fine. I was being the worst kind of idiot. Happy?"

Adia brushed tears from the corners of her eyes. "Hey. Don't you start. I'll have to hunt him down and give him the fist in the nose he deserves if you do."

She laughed. "Always trying to rescue me from my bad choices, huh?" In college, Adia had broken a guy's nose for spreading rumors about Quenby.

"Somebody's gotta do it." He grinned. "So am I forgiven?"

"Have you asked Macon that yet?"

His grin faded. "All of us know that was a mistake. A bad, bad mistake. I've been trying to make up to both of you for that for a long time."

Quenby shook her head. She'd warned them their relationship would only lead to trouble. And she'd been right. He could get girls to drop at his feet anywhere any time. Why did he have to go into their group of friends, causing drama?

"Macon came after me," Adia said as if reading her mind. "Remember?"

"Just don't do anything like that again."

"Deal. Forgiven?"

She smiled. "Sure. And thanks. For today. I might've gone through with it if not for you."

"Of course." He hugged her. "Now let's go dance."

After dancing and mingling for a while, Quenby wanted to be outside by herself. Get some fresh air and clear her head. She grabbed half a bottle of champagne and headed outdoors.

The community building was at the back of a small subdivision, near the woods. It faced out onto a small artificial pond. The early evening sun shimmered off its surface, adding a little gold to the green-blue water.

She let the back door of the building close behind her and wandered down to the pond's edge. The sight of the pond against the backdrop of trees with their rust, yellow, and brown colored leaves made for a picturesque late September scene. That was where the wedding party would have taken photos.

Her attention was drawn to movement in the reeds. A man with wavy blond hair stepped onto the grass. He'd rolled the cuffs of his wrinkled khakis halfway up his legs, but his pants were still wet around the bottom. Water droplets clung to his thick, muscular calves. Small rivulets of water streamed down the wet hairs on his shins.

She looked into his grinning face. His hazel eyes crinkled at the edges. He was the type of person who smiled with his whole face, and you could tell it was genuine when he did.

He stuck out a hand for her to shake. "I'm Caleb."

She shook it. "Quenby."

"You're Macon's friend." He drawled in a deep Southern accent—sounded like Georgia. She recognized the accent as similar to Macon's. Macon was from Marietta, a suburb outside of Atlanta.

"Yeah. You know Macon?" She'd never seen him before, but there were several people at the party she hadn't seen before.

Caleb nodded, running a hand through his golden blond hair. It was a little too long in the back and fell over the collar of his wrinkled white shirt. "Yeah. She's my cousin. I was at the church, but you had a little too much going on to notice me, I'm thinking. I came up here to be her...to come to—for this."

"It's okay. You can say it. It's not like anybody died." Yet. She took a swig of champagne from the bottle. "What were you doing in the pond?" She pointed to the pond behind him. His shoes—she presumed the beaten up pair of dark brown loafers resting in the grass were his—were closer to her than to him.

"I got bored in there." He nodded toward the building behind her. "I didn't really know anyone. I haven't talked to Macon since she got here. She was with you, then she went off with that prick I hate almost as soon as y'all got over here from the church. So I saw this pond, came out here, and I wondered about how deep it is."

"What?" She narrowed her eyes curiously.

"Yeah. I like to fish, boat, anything to do with water. And I love standing in water, walking through it. Feeling mud and sand between my toes. It's pretty warm out today. Thought I'd get in just to see what the water in this fake pond was like."

"Okay." He might have been strange, but he was really attractive. Broad shoulders. Tan, golden skin. She could imagine too well what the shape of his chest and biceps were like under that white button-down. What they felt like. She really wanted to go beyond imagining.

"Hey, uh, I'm sorry. About what happened. I don't even know him, but I know he doesn't deserve you."

"Thanks." Quenby swirled what was left of the champagne around in the bottle.

"You're way too pretty to let go of. I'd do whatever it took to keep you from getting away from me."

Great. A cheesy come-on line. It was nice to hear, though. He was probably expecting some easy rebound booty. Maybe she wanted to be easy rebound booty. "Thanks."

"What you got there?" he asked, pointing to the bottle.

"Pink champagne," she said.

"Hm." He moved closer. "Don't believe I've ever tried that."

"Want to try it now?" she asked. She wasn't sure if it was the champagne, how sexy he was, or some combination, but she was hot for Caleb. She held the bottle out to him.

"Okay, sure." He grabbed the neck and took a couple swallows. "Tastes like a fancy wine cooler to me."

She laughed. "And you're a connoisseur of these things, I take it?"

He gave her a smoldering look. "I know what I like."

"You do?" She put a hand on his shoulder stared at his lower lip, which looked very kissable. "Do you see something you like right now?"

"Oh yeah," he said.

Before she could over-think it, she covered his lips with hers. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and the champagne bottle pressed into her hip. His other hand moved to the back of her neck, and his thumb caressed her nape. He kissed her softly, but insistently in a way that made her think of all the other things he might be good at using that tongue. She moaned as he gently nibbled her lips before covering her entire mouth with a kiss again. If they didn't stop soon, they were going to give anyone who glanced out of the window quite a show. The problem was, she didn't want to stop.

A goose honked, breaking the trance. She looked up, mortified. "I'm so sorry. Oh God, this is embarrassing." Her fingers flew to her kiss-swollen lips. She realized he was smiling. Not a smirk. Just a smile. A nice one.

"Don't worry about it. You never have to apologize for kissing me."

Realizing they were still locked in an embrace, she reluctantly disentangled herself. "I can't believe I did that. I was going to get married a few hours ago." She mumbled the words to herself, but he replied to them.

"Kissing the bride's part of tradition, right?" He held the bottle of champagne out to her.

She shook her head and pushed it away. "Keep it."

"If you insist."

"Okay, well, if you come back inside, enjoy the party," she said. "Take some food home with you. Please. We have a ton. And—I'm just going to go now."

"It was nice meeting you, Quenby." He called the words out to her as she quite literally ran away.

"Yeah." She called to him over her shoulder without ever stopping.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Quenby muttered, continuing toward the community building. She had never done anything like that, and she didn't want to want Caleb. She'd narrowly escaped marrying a guy like that. She needed to start going after a different type of guy. She needed to leave the flash and dash heartbreakers alone. But first, she needed a break from all men.

Still. She'd never shared a sexier moment with anyone. She'd had sex that hadn't been as good as the kiss she'd shared with Caleb. He kissed her like there was nothing else in the world he wanted to do.

He kissed her like he was hungry for her. Starving. How would she ever put a man out of her head who kissed like that? She touched her fingers to her lips again.

She needed to stop. He was just a stranger. A sexy stranger she'd kissed in a moment of rebound weakness.

She needed to put an end to that horrible day. The best idea would be to go home and take her sorry butt to bed. Still, thoughts of that kiss and everything she wanted to do beyond it wouldn't leave her alone.
Chapter 4

Caleb wandered into the community center not long after Quenby did, carrying the bottle of pink champagne. He was in a little bit of a daze. Being kissed by a gorgeous stranger wasn't something he'd expected to happen. When he'd agreed to go with his cousin to some wedding, he never expected so much...excitement.

Adia walked up to him, and Caleb clenched the neck of the champagne bottle.

"I saw you two. Outside." One thing about Adia—he didn't mince words.

"Okay," Caleb said.

"She's one of my best friends. It'd be smart for you to stay away from her."

"Macon's my cousin. Did you stay away from her?" Two things Caleb couldn't stand. A liar and a cheater. Partly because he'd been done in by both and partly because lying and cheating were just plain wrong no matter what the circumstances were.

"I made some mistakes, but Macon did, too. I never lied to her."

"I don't care what you think you did or didn't do. You broke her heart, asshole, and I think you need to get out of my face right now." It was taking huge effort for him not to punch Adia in the face and cause a scene. Quenby had been through enough for one day. He didn't have to know her well to know that.

"Quenby is special to me. She's one of the best friends I've ever had. And I'll tell you right now, I'm very protective of her. In fact, if I saw Derek on the street somewhere, I'd probably end up in jail, and he'd end up in the hospital."

"If I'd been there last night, he would be in the hospital right now."

Adia narrowed his eyes. "All I have to say is, you mess with Quenby? You won't like what happens to you."

"I wouldn't pull any quick and dirty moves on her. That's not _my_ style." He pushed past Adia and went to find his cousin.

Quenby had grabbed his full attention right away. And she still had it. The sight of her face when he'd walked out of the reeds had nearly stopped his heart. He couldn't get over how beautiful she was. Eyebrows raised over her large, brown eyes. Pretty, full lips slightly parted. He'd had the urge then, and the memory brought it right back—he wanted to run his fingers through her soft brown curls and close his lips over hers in another kiss.

He hung back when he saw Macon talking to Quenby. He wasn't sure she wanted to see him again so soon. She'd seemed embarrassed by the way she'd acted out by the pond. Still, he hoped that wouldn't be the last time he saw her. He and Macon were supposed to head back to Georgia tomorrow evening. That was a problem.

Even if Quenby didn't want anything to do with him—and he hoped that wouldn't be the case—he had to at least try to talk to her again.

#

The next day, Quenby went to Adia's apartment. She and some of their other friends were supposed to go to brunch together before the out-of-towners headed home. He lived with another good friend of theirs from college, Ron. They all knew each other because they'd all been college athletes, and the athletes tended to stick together. Even after graduation.

Quenby sat on the couch with a cold washcloth draped over her face. It was boiling hot even though Adia had several fans going. Indian summer in Virginia. The A/C had broken, and Adia's landlord moved slower than a glacier when it came to fixing things. He probably wouldn't get around to the A/C until next year since it was almost October. Quenby could just hear what the landlord would say in his thick Hungarian accent, "It is winter now. You wait. I fix next year."

So Quenby was a bit uncomfortable in the stuffy apartment. It didn't help that she still felt pretty crappy after her quality time with the champagne bottle the day before.

Adia came and sat next to her on the couch.

"Why did you let me drink so much?" Quenby asked.

"It's not like I could stop you." Adia lifted a corner of the washcloth from one of her eyes. "You gonna live?"

"I really made a fool out of myself last night," Quenby said. It was just an observation. A true one.

"Not like you didn't have good reasons." He handed her a glass of water, and she rested it against her knee. "At least you got rid of his sorry ass before it was too late."

Quenby was about to reply when the door to the guest bathroom opened. Caleb walked past the living room and paused in front of the door to the third bedroom. He seemed to do a double-take when he looked her way. Quenby gasped, unable to hide her shock. When she'd heard the shower running earlier, she assumed it was Ron in the bathroom.

"What's he doing here?" Quenby couldn't believe the guy she'd made out with and proceeded to make a fool out of herself in front of last night was standing right there. And more attractive than she remembered. His huge biceps were exposed, but she was much more interested in his abs and pecs. He wasn't wearing anything but a towel. Lucky towel.

"I, uh, Macon and he...spent the night here," Adia said. "I didn't touch her," he quickly added.

"Yeah," Caleb said. "I made damned sure of that." He turned his gaze to Quenby, and his eyes softened. He grinned at her. "Hey Quenby. How you feeling?"

"Fine," she managed. Last night came back to her in mortifying flashes. The Freedom Party had broken up early. Most people had mumbled excuses for going home in little more than an hour. After that, with plenty of pink champagne in her system, she'd insisted that they go out to a club. Caleb had been in the group. All she remembered was grinding against him and murmuring embarrassing, sex-related things in his ear all night.

"Good," Caleb said.

"Where's Macon?" Quenby asked, feeling the heat rise to her face. She genuinely wanted to know, but she also wanted to change the subject.

"She drove Talitha to the train station this morning, and I guess she hasn't gotten back yet," Adia said.

"Oh yeah. She left for D.C. this morning." Quenby toyed with the washcloth Adia had given her earlier. "About last night..."

"What about it?" Caleb winked at her.

Quenby stared at him, open-mouthed, but unable to think of a word to say. Typical of the hot ones. They made way better friends than they did lovers. Somehow, though, she always managed to forget that when one of them asked her out.

"Well, I'm gonna go get dressed," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Nice seeing you again." Was it her imagination, or did he suddenly seem embarrassed?

"Yeah," Quenby said as he walked into the guest bedroom. She narrowed her eyes at the closed door. What had that wink been about?

"I didn't do anything too...horrible with him last night, did I?" Quenby muttered.

"Like I would've let you," Adia said. Like Adia "let" her do anything. She made plenty of bad choices despite his warnings and good intentions, and he did the same despite hers.

Quenby collapsed against the back of the couch with a sigh.

#

After Caleb dressed, he joined them in the living room.

Just when she'd been thinking of hot guys and leaving them be, there was enemy-to-her-defenses-number-one. Quenby hoped her guilty conscience wasn't written all over her face. Ever since he'd come out of the bathroom, she'd been picturing the two of them showering together. Her soapy hands running across his chest and down, down...Him lifting her onto his hips. Her wet legs wrapped around his slick body. She couldn't help herself.

"As soon as Macon gets back, we're going to brunch," Quenby found herself saying. "You want to go?"

Caleb's face broke into a grin. "Sure."

Adia threw her a look.

She smiled, shrugged, and said, "Let's call Macon and see where she is."

"Quenby," Adia said.

"What?" she asked innocently. "We all have to eat." Among other things.
Chapter 5

When Macon returned to Adia's place, they went to Restaurante Cuyo. It was an Argentinian place with a great brunch on weekends. Cuyo had fantastic mimosas, but Quenby couldn't think about champagne at the moment.

The group sat out on the patio at a long wooden picnic table covered by a light blue and white tablecloth. Quenby's friend, Ron, sat next to her. When he went to the restroom, Caleb walked around the table and slid into that space. She picked at the remains of her steak and eggs.

Quenby had invited him, and she wanted him there, but she was suddenly nervous at the thought of having a one-on-one conversation with him again. She didn't know how to start a conversation with last night hanging between them. From what she remembered, they hadn't had much to say to each other at the club, either. It'd been too loud, and they were—otherwise preoccupied. Or at least she'd been.

He gave her a smile that just melted her. "Hi."

Uh-oh. Here it went. That heart dropping, sweaty, shaky kind of reaction. She swallowed hard. "Hi."

"Sorry if I pissed you off this morning with something I said. Sometimes I think I'm funny, and I'm really not." Everything he said was charming in that Georgian accent with that deep voice. He could have been reading the menu to her, and she would have been a puddle at his feet.

She laughed, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. "No problem." The previous night kept coming back to her in flashes. "Did you carry me last night?"

He nodded. "From the club to your car to your condo all the way to your bed."

"No," she moaned, clapping a hand to her forehead. "I really am sorry about last night."

"Why? You didn't do anything you need to be sorry for." He leaned toward the picnic table a little.

"I acted like a drunken sorority girl on Girls Gone Wild."

"What's wrong with going wild every once in a while?"

She laughed.

"You have a really pretty laugh." His hazel eyes were intent on her.

Quenby's heart jumped so hard, she expected it to leap right out of her chest. "Thanks." Her face warmed, and she looked down at her hands. Her chipped thumbnail was suddenly very interesting.

"I meant what I said yesterday. That man was crazy to do whatever made you leave him at that altar. But he sure did some lucky man somewhere in your future a huge favor."

She could barely swallow. She shifted down the bench as he moved his hand toward her shoulder.

"Quenby," Caleb said. Her name on his lips sent chills down her spine. She looked up and forced herself to focus. That deep Southern accent was making it difficult.

"I could be a horrible person. You barely know anything about me. This is only the third conversation we've had." She looked at him as if he were speaking another language.

Caleb smiled. "Fourth. And I highly doubt you're a horrible person. But you're right. And I was hoping we could get to know each other better. I know we don't have very much time left, but I'd like to spend every minute of it learning about you."

Quenby returned the smile. "Would you?"

"Yeah."

"What would be the point? Your plane leaves in a few hours."

He moved closer and his voice became softer. "Why does everything have to have a point?" His lips were almost at her ear when he said, "Quenby. I like it. How'd you come across that name anyway?"

Good. She could tell the story of her name. Something to distract her from all the very dangerous feelings flooding her at that moment. Talking in a voice that was a little too loud and a little too high, she said, "It's always a good ice breaker, you know. My name. Anyway, when my mom was pregnant with me, she couldn't get enough of Beverly Cleary's Ramona Quimby novels. This grown woman, right? I guess she got book cravings in addition to food cravings. Anyway, she was completely in love with them and she really liked Ramona's last name. So she decided to give it to me with a slight variation. And so...I'm Quenby."

"Sounds like an interesting lady." Caleb said. Mercifully, he pulled back a little, and she felt a little less like she was going to die if she didn't jump into his lap. "I'd like to meet her."

Quenby didn't quite know what to make of that statement. _Remember, you'll never see him again after today_ , she told herself.

Caleb glanced over his shoulder. "Sorry, man, I guess I took your seat."

Startled, she looked up. She hadn't realized Ron had returned to the table. She'd also tuned out everyone at the table; for a moment, she'd forgotten that she and Caleb weren't the only ones there.

"No problem. I'll just grab a seat over there," Ron said.

"No." Quenby blurted it out before she could even think about it, earning the strange looks they both gave her. "I mean...your steak—you're not finished." She didn't know if she should be left alone next to this too-attractive, smooth talking, loafers with no socks wearing man.

He chuckled. "You're right. Can you pass me that plate, man?"

"Here, I'll just switch 'em across the table," Caleb said. "Y'all excuse my momentary lapse in manners, reaching across the table like this. Don't tell my mama, she'd kill me." Caleb smiled at Quenby before switching the plates.

"Thanks." Ron headed for the other side of the table.

"No problem." Caleb turned back to Quenby. "In a hurry to get rid of me?"

"I just—um." Quenby tried to think of something to say. "I don't want to be in a relationship. Or date. Or any of that right now."

"Hey. It's cool. I understand. After all, I leave for Georgia in a few hours . Remember?" he said. "You just said it yourself. I just want to be a friend. A person could always use another friend, right? That's the way I feel about it anyway."

"Yeah." She knew she had no business thinking about that man, but as much as she knew it, she couldn't help thinking how nice it would be to have a friendship and so much more with Caleb.

He ran a hand through his golden hair, and she wanted her fingers running through it instead of his. She'd certainly done enough of that last night. She tried to remember if she'd asked him to sleep with her. She couldn't remember if she had or not. Suddenly, it seemed important for her to know. Even though she dreaded getting it, she needed some idea of what kind of impression she'd given Caleb last night. "I'm surprised I didn't find you in bed next to me when I woke up this morning." She didn't add that she wouldn't have minded that.

"Really?" He tapped his long, thick fingers against the top of the table as he spoke, matching the beat to the music that spilled out of the outdoor speakers set up nearby.

"I mean, it's not like you didn't have an invitation. I don't exactly remember making one, but I'm sure I did at some point."

"If you were sober, it would've happened in a heartbeat." He looked her dead in the eye, and her stomach dropped. "Don't think for a minute I didn't want to. But I don't do things like that with women who are pass-out drunk. I want you to want me, and know you want me, and be aware of every second we share. When that sort of thing happens." He reached up to caress one of her gold teardrop earrings before moving his thumb to the sensitive ridge of skin at the top of her ear. She shivered. The rest of the world dropped away. Every time he touched her, she was in greater danger of jumping into his lap.

She pushed aside thoughts of how she wanted to spend the few, precious hours between then and when Caleb had to go to the airport. No way could she let any of that happen. Those fantasies were better left in her head no matter how hard she was rebounding. And this was just rebound talk. Right?

She needed something safe to talk about. What was safe?

Luckily, Caleb came up with something. "So Adia told me this morning that you work at a community bank near downtown. You're a branch manager?"

"Yeah." Quenby wanted so badly to reach for him, but she knew that wouldn't be right. "You're, uh, you're in school down in Georgia, right? Where?"

"I was at UGA for undergrad, and I'm at Emory now for med school."

"How do you like it?"

A slow smile crossed his face. "It's okay. Something to do anyway." He reached out toward her. It seemed for a second like he was going to touch her again, but then he grabbed his fork and started tapping it against his plate.

"So what made you want to be a doctor?"

"I want to help people. I can't remember ever wanting to be anything else to tell you the truth. It makes me feel really good when I can help other people feel better."

A thrill went through Quenby as she remembered kissing him by the pond. He had certainly made her feel better.

"What I really want to do after school is join Doctors Without Borders."

Quenby nodded and said, "It's good to know what you want and go for it.

Caleb's eyes burned into hers. "Yeah. It is."

Quenby looked away, every inch of her on fire.

"That's the deal I made with Dad," he said. "He's footing the bill for med school. I'm doing Doctors Without Borders for a few years after my residency, and then I'll join his practice group."

"Your dad's a doctor, too? What kind?"

"Surgeon."

"Wow."

He grimaced, then quickly changed his expression to a smile. "He's one of the best. Makes sure everyone knows it, too." After a brief silence, he said, "So, how you feeling after your night last night?"

She laughed dryly. "Marvelous." Feeling like they'd stumbled into territory they needed to escape, she decided to turn the conversation elsewhere yet again.

Sports. She always defaulted to sports. Just the way her brain worked, she guessed. Asking him what he thought of the Redskins's new quarterback, she felt like she was out of danger. At least for the moment.
Chapter 6

After brunch, the three of them went back to Quenby's building. She'd volunteered to take them to the airport when it was time for their flight, so they decided to hang out there for a while. Macon didn't follow Quenby and Caleb upstairs to Quenby's condo right away; she stayed in the car a few minutes to have yet another conversation—read argument—with Adia on her phone. Whenever Macon and Adia tried to talk out their issues, things inevitably ended in a fight. Quenby had learned to leave Macon alone when it came to not getting past her breakup with Adia. It was either that or forget about her friendship with Macon.

Quenby unlocked the front door, and Caleb held it open for her. His arm brushed hers as he did. She tripped over her own feet stepping over the threshold. Caleb put his hand on the small of her back to steady her. She looked up at him, her heart pounding and her skin on fire from his touch even though the fabric of her blouse separated his hand from her flesh. Ever since brunch, all she could think about was tasting him again.

He bit his lower lip in an obvious attempt to suppress a grin. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she murmured, stumbling away from his touch. She still couldn't make up her mind about whether she wanted this rebound fling or not. So much could go wrong. What if she realized she wanted more than a few hours with him while he was sitting on a plane that was taking him back to Georgia? She already felt a pull to him. She should quit now while she could.

"Let's go inside." His voice was husky and low, and it did nothing to stop the dirty little thoughts running through her mind.

"Okay."

Once they were inside, he shut the door behind them. He pulled a few strands of her hair between his fingers and played with them.

"I had a great time talking with you at brunch," Caleb said, moving his other hand to the back of her neck. She shivered when he trailed his fingers over the fine hairs there.

"Caleb, this isn't the right time for—" She broke off when his hazel eyes bore into hers.

"Isn't the right time for what?" His voice was barely above a whisper. His forehead grazed hers.

"I just can't."

His hand moved deeper into her hair, the other one still against the back of her neck. Leaving his eyes locked on hers, he moved his two hands to meet in the back of her head, buried them deep in her hair. He pressed his lips to her temple. She closed her eyes, breathing in sandalwood.

He backed her up against the wall next to the door. "I'll stop if you really want me to, but I want you to know that it hurts to do it." He pressed his cheek to hers.

Screw it. This was going to happen. She'd worry about the consequences later. She had the rest of her life to think about those consequences. She wouldn't get another chance to wrap herself around Caleb Fletcher-Smith. She didn't want to regret missing the one chance she had.

She pressed her lips to his collarbone, tasting the skin there. The next thing she knew, they were on his neck. Then, his bottom lip. He parted his lips, sighing against hers. He pressed her to the wall. She locked her arms around him. His hands moved across her back. Their mouths were locked together. She wanted to do much more than kiss him, and she used her mouth to try and show him this. It seemed he was doing the same with his. She lifted one leg onto his hip. He pulled the other up, and held her in place by gripping her thighs without ever separating his lips from hers.

Clinging to him, feeling his body against hers, she could tell he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

When he finally pulled back, they were both breathless.

"I should stop now. Before..." he said.

She ground her hips against his. "Really?"

He looked at the door. "What if Macon?..."

She hopped down and grabbed his hand. "Come here." She led him to her room. She didn't want to overthink things. She didn't want to think at all. All she wanted was Caleb.

Soon, they were on her bed, writhing, hips grinding against each other. She kissed him hungrily, greedily, feeling starved after the few cold and distant months at the end with Derek. He'd been right that the sex was bad for the last few months, but wrong about it being her fault.

Not that she wanted to think about him when she was with a man like Caleb. She pulled him closer, rubbing against the ridge of his hard-on. She wrapped her legs around him as he teased her neck with his teeth and tongue. He moved lower until he was biting at her nipples through her shirt. She moaned as he teased them to hardened points beneath her bra.

Her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps as his hands explored her body. He touched every place that needed to be touched even though they were fully clothed. She screamed out with pleasure as he took her over the edge.

Her breathing started to return to normal, and he rolled off her and stroked her hair away from her face.

"Whoa," she said.

He moved his hand along the inside of her thigh, bringing it to a stop at the crotch of her jeans. She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and pushed both jeans and panties off her hips. He pulled them down to her knees and brushed his fingers against the wet, curly hair they'd exposed. He groaned and ripped her jeans and panties down to her ankles, pushing them off the rest of the way with his feet.

His mouth settled onto sensitive skin that hadn't been touched by a mouth in years. Derek didn't do that. She sighed with pleasure as his tongue found the most sensitive part of the slick folds of skin he'd just excited through their clothes. He teased her skin until she was out of her mind with pleasure. Gently taking her pearl between his teeth, he sucked and nibbled at it until she was raw with need for him. Finally, he gave her sweet release once again. As the aftershocks of pleasure rolled through her, Caleb stroked her thighs.

He sat up. She reached for his zipper, and his hand closed over hers. He moved her hand away from his crotch.

"Quenby—"

"We should get ourselves together. Macon's gonna be back up here soon," she said. She looked at him, unable to believe he was leaving in just a few hours. It was for the best, though. She had to believe that.

She yanked up her jeans, got off the bed, and headed for her dresser. Raking her hands through her hair, she pulled it back and grabbed an elastic hair band from the dresser. Then she headed for the bathroom. She needed to splash some ice-cold water over her face.

When they went out to the living room, Macon was sitting on the sofa. She must've come up with Indigo, who was sitting next to her and who knew Quenby's building code. Quenby didn't know how long they'd been sitting there, and she didn't ask.

"So how was your conversation with Adia?" Quenby asked, locking her hands behind her back so she wouldn't tap them against her thighs. That was a dead giveaway sign she was hiding something. And both her friends knew it.

"The same one we've been having for months," Macon said.

"Yeah." Quenby wasn't about to butt into her business and give Macon a good reason to bring up the fact that both she and Caleb had just come out of Quenby's bedroom.

Caleb sat in an armchair across from the couch and Quenby sat on the sofa next between Macon and Indigo, glad that she didn't have to look at Caleb at the moment. She was still trying to figure out how to feel about what'd happened.

"I know what you're thinking, but we were just—" Quenby started.

"Quenby, please." Macon cut her off. "We're all adults here. No need to explain. Just do me a favor and stop talking before I get images burned into my brain."

"No, no, really." Quenby shook her head. "Nothing happened. We were just watching...TV"

"Then why isn't the TV on?"

"We turned it off. I wanted to show Caleb something in the bedroom."

"I bet you did."

"Um." Wow. She'd walked right into that one.

"Quenby, can I talk to you for a minute?" Indigo asked. "Out on the balcony?"

"Sure," Quenby said slowly. She got up and followed her friend outside.

#

Caleb shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of her."

"I think she's a grown woman who can make her own decisions," Macon said, flipping on the television and staring at the screen. "I wish some people thought the same of me."

"Aw, Macon. You know I'm only trying to look out for you."

"Yeah, yeah."

Caleb glanced toward the balcony doors. Indigo was making wild gestures with her hands. Quenby kept shaking her head. "You think they're talking about me out there?"

"Probably."

"I really do like her."

"Your butt is going back to Georgia at four-forty five P.M.," was all Macon said in response.

"So you do have a problem with this."

"With what? There's nothing to have a problem with—you live in Georgia, she's just trying to deal with what happened yesterday, and—and—there's just nothing to have a problem with." Macon crossed her arms over her chest.

"If there were, in theory of course, something for you to have a problem with, would you have a problem with it?"

"You know, you have such a huge problem with Adia, but what about what happened last spring?"

"Ouch."

"That poor girl thought she was going to marry you."

"I thought the same thing. I'm sorry I hurt her, and you know I am. I never meant to lead her on or anything," he said. "And don't forget Mama's part in that one. You know how she is. She practically put the ring on that woman's finger herself."

"I know. I'm sorry to lash out at you like that. But you've been asking for it all weekend. And until you get over what happened with Liz...no. I can't be excited about the idea of you being with one of my best friends. I think it's a very good thing that we're going back to Georgia."

"You had to bring her up, didn't you?"

"You made me."

He'd never been more in love with anybody than he'd been with Liz. A former Miss Georgia Peach. Current special ed teacher and someone else's wife. Perfect, he thought, in every way. Until she'd fallen in love, and eloped, with Macon's brother. Yep, Caleb's own cousin had stolen his woman. Caleb had tried to get close to other women after that—he'd almost gotten to the altar with his ex fiancé last spring—but somehow the other relationships always fell apart in the end. Mostly because there was only one Liz.

No matter how hard he tried to forget her, all he could see, feel, touch, or want was Liz and his memories of her. It didn't help that he had to see her at every, single, friggin' family function. Her, his cousin whom he still didn't speak to, and their now two-year-old son.

He sighed and turned his gaze to some reality show Macon was watching. He didn't know what the show was about, and he didn't care. Maybe Macon was right. It was probably for the best that he was going back to Georgia and away from Quenby. Even if that was the last thing he wanted.
Chapter 7

Caleb had class in less than twenty-four hours, but he couldn't imagine leaving Quenby yet. Even though they were headed to RIC in Quenby's car, he couldn't bear the thought of it. He'd managed to meet a woman who blew his mind for the first time since Liz, have an amazing time with her, and lose her all in less than a weekend. Well, he hadn't lost her yet. Not technically.

While Quenby and Macon droned on and on in the front, and Indigo contributed to their conversation from where she sat next to Caleb in the back, he stared out of the window at the passing trees as they headed down Staples Mill Road toward the airport. Could he stay? Missing a few classes would be worth it for even a week with Quenby. But what would Quenby say if he asked to stay there with her for a few more days?

Maybe she'd gotten her rebound fling out of her system already. He hoped not. It hadn't seemed like that was how she felt to him. But maybe that was just because he wanted it to feel like more to her the way it did to him. There was no way to know for sure. They hadn't gotten the chance to talk all that much.

When Quenby pulled up in front of the terminal and popped the trunk, Caleb went to get the bags. He stepped onto the sidewalk and went over to them, carrying only Macon's luggage.

"Where's your stuff, cuz?" Macon asked as he set the bags by her feet.

"Still in the car." He took the boarding pass he'd printed out that morning at Quenby's out of his back pocket. He tapped the folded pieced of paper nervously against his hand.

"Why's that?" She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

"I can't leave. Not yet." He looked at Quenby. Her brown eyes softened like melting chocolate.

"Why's that?" Macon asked again. She and Indigo both looked like they really wanted answers—and good ones.

"Quenby," he said, talking only to her. "I need a week with you. If you want, I'll go back to Georgia, but not without you giving me a good reason why I should. I won't impose myself on you, but I'd really like to stay. A lot."

"What about school?" she asked.

"I imagine Emory will still be there when I get back."

"This is crazy."

"So live a little."

Quenby shifted her gaze between Caleb and her friends, biting her lower lip in a way that made Caleb want to do nothing more than kiss it.

"I shoulda seen this coming after this morning," Macon drawled.

"Okay. If you really want to, and you're not going to fail out or anything, okay," Quenby said.

"Thank you." Caleb grinned.

"You two be careful with each other," Macon said.

"Don't worry. We will," Quenby said, kissing her cheek.

"You better," Indigo said, giving Caleb a meaningful look before she and Macon exchanged goodbye kisses and hugs.

"Your mama's gonna kill you," Macon said to Caleb.

He chuckled. "You let me worry about Mama."

"And worry you better."

They walked Macon into the terminal before getting back into Quenby's car and heading away from the airport. After they dropped Indigo off at her apartment, Quenby drove using her left hand, and they rode back to her condo with their hands folded together on Caleb's lap.

#

When they got back to the condo, the happy mood she'd been in since Caleb decided not to get on the plane back to Georgia was killed by a text from Derek popping up on her phone. He'd been calling all morning, but she'd ignored the calls so they hadn't bothered her. She read the message again with a sigh.

"What is it?" Caleb asked, keeping his hands to himself as if he sensed the mood was shot.

"It's Derek." She shook her head. "He claims he wants to come over and get his stuff. Says he can use his key, but he's trying to be adult about this." She laughed. "He actually said that. Adult." She texted him back that he could come over tomorrow while she was out. He sent another text almost immediately stating that they needed to be there together to go through everything. She told Caleb all of this before saying, "I really can't handle seeing his face right now. He can take it all. I don't care."

Caleb said, "How about this? You make a list of everything he should and shouldn't take, you leave it with me, and you make yourself scarce when he shows up to get his stuff.

She smiled. "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course."

"Well, I thought I was taking this week off for my honeymoon, so technically I don't have to go in, but it would be nice to get a jump on my end-of-month reports, so, yeah. I think I'll take you up on that. Thanks."

"No problem," Caleb said.

She sent Derek a text telling him what time he could come by in the morning to pick up his things. She didn't mention in the text whether she would be home or not.
Chapter 8

Monday morning was cloudy and a little on the cool side, but Quenby was fine with a light, brown sweater thrown on over her blouse as she headed out to work. She'd left Caleb at the house that morning. He'd been curled up on the couch, peacefully sleeping. She'd tried to offer him the guest room, but there was no television in there, and he liked to fall asleep with the T.V. on, as he put it. His Southern accent was so sexy, and so was everything he said using it. She had an unfortunate weakness for so many things about him.

She said hello to her head teller, Sophie. Sophie had already gotten there and turned off the alarm, and she was counting the cash in her drawer. She smiled and waved to Quenby without slowing her pace as she went about getting ready for her day.

As soon as the other teller arrived, Sophie locked up her drawer and walked into Quenby's office. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to have this week off." Sophie and she had become pretty good friends over the years they'd worked together.

"I didn't marry Derek," Quenby said.

"I know. Indigo texted me about coming to that freedom party, and I would have, but my sister needed me. Last-minute baby-sitting job." Sophie rolled her eyes. Sophie had been invited to the reception, but the wedding ceremony had been planned to be small. Close family members and guests of the wedding party only. "But you. Back to you! What actually happened between you and Derek? That part, I do _not_ know."

"I left him at the altar." She grinned. It felt good to say it. She'd finally left him for once. For the first and final time.

Sophie sat across from her desk, gripping her blue travel mug between her small, brown hands. She leaned forward in the chair, her silky black hair falling around her face. "What?" Sophie stretched the word to three times its normal length. "I need details, now, now, now. Ooh, I'm so glad you got rid of him. I can say that now."

Quenby filled her in about the failed wedding and the freedom party. She didn't leave out anything. She ended her story with Caleb and the kiss they'd shared at the freedom party.

"Caleb, huh? What does he look like? Is he on Facebook?"

"I don't know. Haven't looked."

"You're kidding me. Look, look. I need pictures." Sophie gestured wildly in the direction of Quenby's computer.

"You know Facebook is blocked on work computers."

Sophie set her travel mug on the edge of the desk, and stood up. Leaning over, she tapped Quenby's bag, which rested on the desk. "Phone."

Quenby pulled her smart phone out of her bag, and Sophie huddled behind her so she could see the screen when Quenby pulled up Facebook. After Quenby did so and searched for Caleb, finding the right one without too much trouble thanks to his double last name and the Emory and UGA networks, Sophie grabbed the phone from her.

"He is melt me, melt me gorgeous."

"Tell me about it." Quenby grew warm thinking about him all over again. The way being wrapped in his arms the day before had felt so warm. Safe. Right.

"What was he doing here?"

"He flew up from Georgia with Macon for the wedding."

"So have they gone back yet?" Sophie sounded disappointed.

"Macon did."

"He's still here?"

Quenby nodded. "At my condo."

"Again. I ask you. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, that is a very long story." She didn't feel like getting into the thing with Derek stopping by to pick up his stuff at the moment. "Just tell me it's stupid. I need to hear that it's stupid. He's only going to be here for a week, I don't want to get tangled up in this—"

"Don't want to get tangled up in what? Having a good time?" Sophie asked in that matter-of-fact way she had of getting right to the point. She still had Quenby's phone, and she was tapping the screen.

"What are you doing?" Quenby asked.

"Sending Caleb a friend request. From you." Sophie handed the phone back to her with a happy smirk. "Because you weren't gonna do it—"

"You're right about that."

"And you needed to."

"What are you trying to do here?" Quenby looked down at her phone with a sigh.

"Be responsible for your happiness," Sophie said. She was a lot shorter than Quenby, but she towered over her as she stood over Quenby's chair. "Just get some, girl. When was the last time you had some decent sex? And don't try to tell me it was with that fool you wasted five years of your life on." Sophie was small only in stature. Her personality was huge.

Quenby cheeks warmed as she thought of yesterday afternoon. Instead of getting into that, she asked, "Is this really a good idea? Speaking of Derek, I almost got married a couple days ago."

"It's the best idea. Nobody's asking you to marry this guy."

"True." But the problem was, she was already falling for him. And it couldn't be smart to have a rebound fling with a guy she was developing feelings for. Right? Could she just tune out her feelings like that? "Don't you have a teller line to run or something?"

"I'll get on it, boss." She grabbed her coffee mug from the desk and walked out. Sticking her head back in the doorway, she said, "Think about how much fun this week could be. Don't let that go to waste. I'll take him if you're just going to throw him away." With that, she walked back to the teller line.

#

Quenby smiled as she saw the email notification telling her Caleb had accepted her friend request.

She idly clicked over to his page, letting a strange little smile curve over her lips. Warmth surged through her as her mind went yet again to yesterday and the ways Caleb had touched her in her bedroom.

"Quens. What you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon?"

She jumped at the sound of Isaac's voice behind her. Having been lost in thoughts of Caleb, she hadn't heard him walk into her office.

"I see we're working hard in here, huh?" he said. A grin curved over his thin lips.

She set her phone on the desk and looked up at him. Isaac was a commercial loan officer. He wore too much gel in his hair, and she could imagine him spending hours in front of the mirror in the morning, styling his frosted tips just right. Blond hair, blue eyed, gym-worshipping type.

"Says you," she said. "Shouldn't you be out stalking our poor customers, forcing loans on them, and stealing other people's commissions?" Quenby shook her head. Two reasons he was there. She didn't have the power to fire commercial loan officers even though she was the branch manager—that was the regional manager's purview. Second reason, Isaac was unfortunately good at his job. He'd been born with the schmoozer gene.

"Oh, Quens. Don't be bitter." Isaac sat on the corner of her desk. He leaned over and glanced at her the screen of her phone. "What's with all the Facebook stuff? You looking for a date or something? I'm free this weekend." He grabbed her "branch manager of the year" paperweight off of her desk and tossed it up in the air and caught it a few times even though he knew how much that irritated her.

Quenby snatched her phone from where it lay on the desk. "I was just trying to connect with an old friend," she said, her tone cool. By old she meant new, of course.

"Looks like you succeeded. Look at this message he just left on your wall." Isaac winked at her and pointed to her phone. He put the paperweight back on her desk.

She pulled her phone close to her chest. "I really need to get back to work, Isaac."

"Sure you do. 'Work'." He made air quotes with his index and middle fingers and then laughed. "Tell homeboy from Facebook I said hi."

Quenby glared at him, but said nothing.

"Oh, by the way, I'm taking a long lunch. I met this hot little thing at the gym last week. Her divorce was finalized this morning. I'm going to pick her up from the spa, and we're going to celebrate. Wink wink, nudge nudge." Isaac chuckled. He admired himself for a moment in the reflection from the window in Quenby's office door. "I'll probably get a new customer out of it, too. Be back in a couple of hours. Behave yourself okay?"

"Bye, Isaac."

"Bye, cutie." Isaac gave her a look that left her feeling dirty, winked at her, and then left her office, chuckling to himself again.

"What an ass," Quenby mumbled under her breath. And unfortunately, exactly the type she would have dated before the whole Derek fiasco. If they were pretty, she let a lot go. Too much. And here she went again—letting a gorgeous guy live on her couch for a week. Apparently, it was impossible for her to learn lessons.

She looked down at her phone now that it was safe. She smiled, tracing her fingers over the message Caleb had left: _Can't wait 'til 5:30PM._ She couldn't wait, either. She wanted to wrap her legs around him again. Rebound fling or not, this would be one good week. Whatever this mess was, it was fun. She'd gotten herself into something that might have been a little not smart, but she liked being in it a lot.

#

Caleb opened the front door and came face-to-face with the groom from the wedding.

"What are you doing here?" Derek asked, attempting to move past Caleb.

Caleb didn't budge. "Quenby asked me to be here."

"Where is she?" Derek shouted past Caleb into the condo. "Quenby!"

"She's at work."

"Why would she be there? She told me to stop by today."

"She didn't want to be here for this," Caleb said. "You can deal with me."

"What the? No. She needs to be here for this." He shook his head. "I won't do it today."

"Frankly, after the way you treated her, you're lucky she didn't just throw all your crap on the street. I would have. Clearly, she's a better person than I am."

"We lived together for five years," Derek said, a smug note creeping into his tone. "It's going to be complicated, separating our things."

"No, it wasn't."

"Excuse me?" Derek gave him a look that was half-questioning, half-indignant.

"We did it last night. It was pretty easy, actually. Caleb stepped aside and gestured to two stacks of boxes in the middle of the living room floor.

"Who said you could touch my things?" Derek pushed past Caleb and into the living room. He circled the boxes, staring at them in disbelief.

"Quenby says if you want any of the furniture, you can arrange to have movers or someone else who's not you come and pick it up. You can let me know what you want."

"Not a damned thing." Derek snatched one of the boxes from the shorter of the two stacks.

"Need any help with those boxes, man?" Caleb asked.

"Nope. Got it." Derek stomped out into the hall with a box. He was clearly staggering under the weight of the thing, but he tried not to let it show.

"You sure?" Caleb started toward the stack of boxes.

"You touch anything of mine one more time, man! One more time!" Derek snarled. "And I'll call the cops on you."

Good thing Quenby wasn't Derek's any longer.

When he came up for the last of his boxes, Derek asked, "Is that your, uh, car down there parked in Quenby's visitor spot?" Derek smirked. "That little compact?"

"Yeah." It was his rental.

"That's...economical. I double-parked my Jag next to it. I'm almost through here, so I won't have you boxed in much longer. I hope you don't mind."

"Nope. Don't mind." Caleb didn't bother to mention that he'd picked up that rental after flying first class from Georgia to Richmond. He also didn't tell Derek how he'd driven Macon and himself to the airport in his Land Rover because he felt no need to get into a pissing contest with this jerk. Pissing contests were for guys who were insecure little boys inside. Guys like Derek.

Caleb watch Derek struggle toward the elevator with his box and thought about poor Quenby. She'd really been deprived if that was what she'd called having a man in her life for the past five years. No wonder she was afraid to take another chance. He'd bring her around and make her see that all men weren't like Derek, though. He was determined to do that because he wanted nothing more than a chance to be a part of that incredible woman's life.

#

Caleb looked up as Quenby came through the front door that evening. He slowly worked his way up from black pumps to shapely calves in nylon stockings to black skirt that showed off just enough thigh to black jacket.

"How'd things go with Derek?" she asked.

"It's all over. That's the important thing," he said as he watched her unbutton her jacket, revealing a white blouse that fit her in a way that made his jeans a little too snug.

"Didn't come to blows, did it?"

"Nah."

"What'd you fill the rest of the day with?"

"Studying. Sleeping." He was too busy trying to keep from panting to form complete sentences.

"I'm glad you stayed."

"Me, too."

"I'm not going to work for the rest of the week," she announced.

"I like that idea."

She sat on his lap, and his hands went around her waist. Wanting to do to her what she was doing to him, he ran his thumb up her nylon covered thigh, letting his hand rest beneath her skirt.

"When someone gives you a gift, you don't overanalyze it." She unzipped his pants. Relief flooded him when she freed him from the confines of his jeans.

"Yeah." He kissed her cheek, wondering how she could make him so crazy just by walking into a room. He'd never wanted someone so badly. There was lust, and then there was this—whatever it was he felt for Quenby. Lust plus a strong something else.

"This is all I could think about all day." She pushed a hand beneath his shirt, running her fingers over his abs.

He lay her down on the couch and lay over her, bracing his elbows above her shoulders. "Me, too."

She shook her head, pushing at his chest. "Wait a minute."

He sat up, baffled and disappointed until she kneeled between his legs and caressed his penis, which nearly ended everything right there he wanted her touch so badly.

"Your turn." Her mouth closed over it and he groaned, completely under her control as she stroked him with her tongue, bringing his fantasies from all day and the night before into reality.
Chapter 9

Adia invited Quenby and Caleb over for dinner Wednesday. He told her on the phone that if this guy was going to be hanging around her, he had to make sure he was okay. Of course Macon had blabbed and told Adia Caleb was staying for the week. Quenby had warned him to be nice. Adia had promised he would, so Wednesday evening, Quenby and Caleb headed over.

Quenby stopped a few blocks away from Adia's place to pick up a few things. Ron had asked her to bring him protein powder from a nutrition store near the apartment, and Quenby wanted to stop in a Middle Eastern grocery store near the nutrition store. They had a tea there she liked that she'd never been able to find anywhere else.

She parallel parked near the nutrition store, and they got out of the car. One of her favorite things about fall was the way the humidity dropped off, making the air cool and breathable. If only they got more autumn in Virginia. They seemed to get a week or two at most between summer heat and winter cold every year. She breathed the sweet air in deeply as she and Caleb walked down the street.

Caleb offered to go to the nutrition store. Quenby told him which protein powder to get, and he told her he'd meet her by the car. Quenby stepped into the small market a couple doors down to get her tea. She nodded to Salim, the proprietor, who stood behind the counter. Then, she headed to the aisle that contained the teas and spices.

Quenby was headed back to the counter at the front with her tea when she stopped dead in her tracks. Derek and Lisa were right in front of her. She nearly dropped the box of tea she was carrying.

"Hi, Quenby." Derek smiled at her. He actually had the nerve to look happy and as if they were old friends meeting again. At least he had the decency to drop Lisa's hand.

"Hey." She clutched the tea to her chest as if it could protect her from him.

"You look good. Really, really good," he said.

She nodded, giving Lisa a quick once-over. She wore a leather miniskirt and a white tank top. In the middle of the day. In the middle of the week. In the middle of October. It was barely seventy degrees outside. Lisa just a friend he met at a bar. Lisa just-one-of-the-guys he'd invited to his bachelor party. And then proceeded to fuck.

Derek had always looked good in a suit. He must have just come from work.

"Baby, can you give us a minute? I'll meet you in the cheese section," Derek said to Lisa. She gave him an unnecessarily long kiss, smirked at Quenby, and flounced off. Derek turned to Quenby. "I met your little friend."

"I know," Quenby said.

"That was real mature, Quen. Leaving me to deal with He-Man. We can't even talk now? We can't be civil?" Derek smiled again, but his eyes were hard.

"I offered you half the furniture. You said you didn't want it."

"Please. Like I want or need that furniture." He shook his head at her. "You know what? No, no never mind. I'm not even going to stoop to your level."

"My level? What? Just say what you were going to say, Derek."

"I refuse to take all the blame for this. You're selfish, Quenby. The way you called off the wedding and how you've handled everything since proves that."

"Me? Selfish?" The comment was so idiotic coming from him after all he'd done to her that she couldn't come up with a good way to respond to it.

"You practically made me step out on you."

"What?" Quenby shrieked.

"Sometimes a man needs to be a man. You never let me be the man."

"That is the stupidest bullshit I've ever heard."

"See? There you go again. Belittling me."

"There is never a good excuse for cheating. And what _you_ just said is an especially poor and stupid one!" She was tempted to pick up a nearby can of chickpeas and hurl it at him.

"Well, I won't keep you. Lisa lives around the corner, so we came here to pick up some goat cheese to go with dinner." Derek's words were a punch to the gut. So they'd come to _her_ store to pick up something for dinner. She didn't want to think of what was coming after dinner. Maybe "who" was the better word. "Have a good time with He-Man."

He went to the cheese section, leaving Quenby speechless behind him. She walked to the front of the store, dropped the box of tea on the counter, and reached for her purse with trembling hands.

"What a snake," Salim said, narrowing his eyes. He knew about what had happened with the wedding. Indigo said she'd mentioned it to him. Quenby and Indigo often stopped in to chat with Salim on their way to and from the guys' apartment.

"Tell me about it," Quenby said, setting her wallet on the counter and handing Salim a ten dollar bill.

"You want? I charge him double for the cheese." Salim handed Quenby her change.

She laughed. "Thanks, but that's okay. Don't do that."

"Okay. You take care of yourself."

"I will."

She was almost out of the door when she realized Salim was calling her name. Turning to look at him, she realized he held her wallet in the air.

"You are forgetting something very important," he said in a sing-song voice.

"Oh, thank you, Salim." She rushed back over to take her wallet from him.

Out on the street, she saw Caleb leaning against the car, waiting for her. They got back into the car without her saying anything.

"You're looking pretty down over there. What happen? Price of the tea that bad?" Caleb asked.

Quenby shook her head.

"I know that was a bad joke, but was it _that_ bad?"

"It's not your joke," she said. "I'm fine." The rest of the drive to Adia and Ron's building was quiet, but she felt his stare.

She'd told herself that was going to be a week of not thinking about Derek, not caring about anything. That plan, like many of her plans, had been blown to shreds.

She found a spot a little bit down the block from their building. When they got to the front door to the building, she punched in the code for Adia and Ron's apartment. Finally, she snapped.

She turned to him in the elevator with an exaggerated sigh. "I saw Derek in the store, okay? He was with that skank he slept with the night before we were supposed to get married. He acted like he never did anything wrong. He had the nerve to blame me! Why do they all act like that? Just once, can I get an 'I'm sorry' at least? If they can't love me, can't they at least be sorry for breaking my heart?"

Caleb looked at her, his hazel eyes soft with compassion. But not pity. She couldn't remember ever getting such a tender look from a guy. She turned away. She felt his hand on her arm, but she didn't turn around.

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped off. He still held her arm. She pulled away and started to walk toward the apartment. She stopped when she realized he'd never moved and was still standing between the two elevators that faced each other at the end of the hall.

He slowly walked up to her and stood in front of her for a moment. She didn't move. Didn't speak. That look again. This time, she couldn't break free of it. He put his arms around her and drew her into a hug. She stood flush against his chest. Her heart beat wildly and her breath became ragged with anticipation and desire. With him so close, all she could see or think was him.

He put his hand under her chin and gently lifted her gaze to meet his. "Don't you know you deserve so much more—so much better—than him?"

She glanced down but didn't pull away from his fingers.

He brushed his lips against her cheek, a whisper kiss like that of a feather on skin. Nothing like the heated kisses he'd been giving her all week.

"What was that for?" she whispered.

He looked down at her, a longing in his eyes that set her on fire and erased Derek from her mind for the moment. "You looked like you needed it. Especially the way you look now, the way you sounded then. You're much too beautiful and good of a person to be in that kind of pain. I couldn't bear to see it."

Quenby laughed nervously. "You don't even know me." Despite the physical closeness they shared over the past few days, they were barely more than strangers.

"You keep saying that." He held her palm to his mouth and mumbled into it. "I know all I need to know."

Quenby reached up and kissed him. He put his hands low on her waist. She nuzzled hers against the back of his neck, not able to get close enough to him to satisfy her even though there wasn't an inch of space between their bodies.

He dropped the bag containing the jar of protein powder he'd been carrying. Pushing her against a wall, he took the kiss deeper. His kisses were soft, slow, yet insistent. She moaned, sinking into him. His hand slipped down to her leg. He brought her thigh up to rest on his hip. She tried to pull him closer even though it was impossible. His hand drifted to her bottom, caressing each cheek and then moving lower, toward the hem of her skirt, which had ridden up close to her hip. She moaned, tempted to tell him they should skip dinner.

She heard a door open down the hall, and she pushed him backward even though she didn't want to. She straightened her blouse and pulled the hem of her skirt down to her knees. Glanced at Caleb. There was a hungry look on his handsome face that made her want to jump back on him even though there was a man walking toward them.

The man who'd opened the door walked past them on the way to the elevator, open curiosity on his face. Quenby had seen him around the building before, but she couldn't remember his name. He greeted them, and they answered back with a greeting. He clearly wanted to stay and chat and probably fish for info he could gossip about later, but thankfully he didn't stay and ask any questions. Quenby ran her fingers along her lips almost without realizing she was doing it, thinking about Caleb's lips on hers.

Once the man was past, Quenby looked at Caleb again. Clearly, Caleb wanted it as badly as she did. She and Caleb had been physical, but they hadn't closed the deal yet. And it'd been a while—she and Derek hadn't had sex for at least a month before the wedding. He'd told her he wanted to hold off a while before their wedding night. She should have been suspicious then. At the time, she'd thought it was sweet. She'd been swimming in denial when it came to him.

That night, they were going to stop playing around and get to the good stuff. She wanted to get Caleb back to her place, get him naked, and have hot, nasty sex with him all night long. But first they had to get through dinner.

"We should get in there. For dinner," Quenby said.

Caleb nodded. He picked up the white plastic bag he'd dropped earlier.

"The sooner we eat, the sooner I can get you all to myself."

"Quenby, I—"

"Sh."

He looked at her, and all she wanted was to hold him again. Feel his lips. Taste his mouth. Push her hands through that golden hair. Shiver under the touch of his large, strong hands.

"Caleb," she said.

"Yeah?" His voice was deep, gruff. She wanted to feel it rumbling against her while her head rested on his chest.

"Eat quickly."

"Will do." He gave her a small smile. They walked toward the apartment.

Ron pulled the door open right after Quenby knocked.

"Quenby. Always good to see you, girl," Ron said over loud jazz music, grabbing her and swinging her up into a bear hug. He was almost a foot taller than her, and she wasn't short. He had the build of the star basketball player he'd been all the way through high school and college. His pale blue Oxford shirt contrasted nicely with his chocolate brown skin. He wore his hair cut close and waved. He looked a little like Blair Underwood, and he was yet another good reason for the no-dating-amongst-friends-rule. A rule Macon had broken—and paid the price for breaking.

"You, too," Quenby said.

He put her down and held his hand out to Caleb. "I'm Ron."

"Caleb." Caleb shook Ron's hand.

"Yeah. I've heard some things about you." Ron glanced over his shoulder into the apartment. Then he stepped back. "Come in, you two. Hey, is that my protein powder?"

"Yeah." Caleb handed over the bag after Ron closed the front door behind them.

"Hey, man, you're all right," Ron said. "I don't care what Adia says about you."

"You better be joking," Quenby said.

Ron laughed and shrugged.

"Speaking of Adia, I'm going to go in there and tell him to hurry it up. I'm starving." Quenby took the wine to the kitchen while Ron and Caleb stayed in the living room and talked. Adia stood at the stove, frowning over a pan of salmon, which rested on the stovetop.

"This look done to you?" he asked.

"Sure. Salmon doesn't take that long to cook. How long did you have it in there?"

"Uh...not sure..."Adia squinted at the clock over the stovetop as if that would help him remember.

"Give me a fork."

"Can do."

As she tested the salmon, Quenby said, "Be nice tonight. Please."

"Haven't I been?"

"I mean...don't scare him off, okay?"

"I didn't invite you over here with any ulterior motives."

"Of course you did."

They laughed.

"Yeah. Of course I did. But I have no plans to scare him off, okay?"

"Good."

"He's leaving soon anyway, isn't he?"

"Yep."

"Good," he muttered.

She jabbed the fish. "Done."

"Well then. We can eat."

Quenby leaned against the counter, crossed her arms over her chest, and watched Adia carry the fish toward the doorway.

He looked back at her. "Coming?"

"In a minute." She forced a smile.

He shrugged and continued out to the dining room, greeted by Ron's exclamation that Adia was trying to starve them all. She laughed softly.

She stared through the doorway at the Picasso print that hung on the wall opposite the kitchen. She didn't see the painting, though. Instead, she saw Derek and Lisa. Derek looking like nothing was wrong. No, worse. Blaming her for his jackassery.

What was she doing with Caleb? Was it just some stupid way to get back at Derek? Maybe Adia was right. This was all crazy and stupid. She could tell that was what he thought even if he hadn't said it in so many words.

The idea was not to think about what happened that week. To just enjoy a rebound fling. But maybe that was the wrong idea.

#

The dinner was a very good thing. Caleb didn't trust himself alone with her a minute longer. That in the hallway had been dangerous. He'd acted too much on what he'd wanted to over the past few days. He knew how it looked, but he didn't want their time together to be a meaningless fling. It was very important to him that she not see him as just some creep trying to prey on her while she was on the rebound.

She looked even better to him when she was out of his grasp. Like she was now, sitting across the table from him. She kept toying with the thin gold chain she wore, bringing his attention back to that delicate neck of hers. He wanted to taste the skin there again. He remembered the feel of it under his tongue yesterday. He moved down to her blouse. She'd left the top couple of buttons unbuttoned, leaving just a suggestion of cleavage—enough to torture him with thoughts of what was underneath.

Back up to that face. The coppery brown perfection of it. Her slightly rounded cheeks adding just a little red. The way her smile lit up her whole face just did something to him—made him lose every bit of common sense and rational thought he owned. The shape of her big brown eyes. Every bit of her was beauty that transported him. If he could only look at one thing for the rest of his life, he would choose her face, no contest.

He didn't care if he was going back to Georgia in a few days. He wanted more than the one thing she suspected him of wanting. That meant he had to try to ignore his most immediate want. He'd gone far enough over the past few days; further than he'd meant to for sure. It was time to pull back.

But touching her. Every moment had been ten seconds of heaven. And he wished he could have drawn it out even longer. Every time he'd felt her skin under his or her lips on any part of him had been worth the aching he now felt wanting her so badly and the difficulty he now had what with all the blood in his body having gone between his legs.

He thought about those long, shapely legs now safely hidden beneath the table. He was glad his lower half was hidden beneath that same table. Just so he wouldn't forget to do it later, he un-tucked his shirt when no one was looking.

She kept accusing him of not knowing anything about her. That wasn't the way he wanted things. He didn't want to scare her off, but she had no idea how hard it was for him to give her the space she probably needed after all that had happened with Derek. He knew what it was like having to put a lying, cheating lover behind you after all.

She wouldn't want to hear about how he felt so soon after Saturday. She was sure to think it was all an act. Still, he didn't have much time left. He had to leave for Georgia on Sunday or else risk not only trouble at school, but the wrath of Mama Fletcher-Smith as well. Over the next few days, had to find a way to get closer to her that didn't make her think he was a creep with ulterior motives. He didn't want to think about the problems him living in Georgia presented. He hadn't gotten that far yet. Besides, that wouldn't even be a hurdle if he couldn't get past Quenby's quite reasonable suspicions of his intentions.

Quenby nudged his calf under the table with her naked foot. He dropped his fork and looked up in time to catch her devious smile before she went back to talking to Adia. He cursed himself for not wearing thicker pants—jeans or something—and her for having those long sexy legs.

What he really needed to do was get rid of the boner that was making it hard for him to sit still. But there was no way to do that at the moment that wouldn't turn him into an exhibitionist and throw him out of favor with everyone in the room. So he decided to try to get his mind off it.

He turned to Ron and started up a conversation. "So you're in marketing?"

Ron nodded as he finished chewing a mouthful of spinach green salad. "Yeah. I work for a small firm downtown. Just until I go back to school to get my MBA."

"Sounds good. You like it?"

"Love it." Ron went on to tell Caleb about the job, but he could barely concentrate on the man's words.

He caught her gaze across the table, and they smiled at each other. It was useless. His mind wandered back to Quenby now matter how hard he tried to think of something besides how much he wanted her.
Chapter 10

She unlocked the door and hurried him inside. She refused to wait one moment longer.

She dropped her bag to the floor. "I've been wanting to do this all night." She reached under her skirt, pulled off her panties, and jumped onto his hips, wrapping her legs around him. He backed her against the door as they bit and kissed at each other's lips.

"I don't want you to think—" he began.

"I don't want you to think, either," she whispered, unbuckling his jeans.

"Hold on a minute." He put her down and she began to protest. He grabbed his wallet, pulled out a condom, and tossed the wallet on the floor. Unzipping his pants, he slipped the condom onto his erection and grabbed her by the hips. She climbed back onto him, and he pinned her to the wall. He pushed her skirt up to her hips, and entered her fully with one thrust. She squeezed her calves against his buttocks as he drove into her again and again, giving her the mindless screw she needed.

Her breathing ragged at his ear, she wrapped her arms around him, trying to get more leverage, to grind against him, but she was so weak with desire, all she could really do was melt in the incredible sensation that his thrusts created inside of her.

She'd never come during a quickie, so didn't expect the tension to rise and everything to tighten inside of her the way it did after only a few strokes. She gasped in his ear, let out a rich moan that came from deep inside her, and buried her hands in his hair as he dug his fingers into her hips and pumped into her a few, last, good, hard times.

When it was over, he gently set her on the floor and pressed his hot forehead to hers. They stared at each other as their breathing slowed.

He started to speak, and she put her fingers over his lips.

"Again," she said.

He took her hand, used his other hand to hold up his jeans so that he could walk, and led her to her bedroom.
Chapter 11

All week, Quenby had used Caleb being in town as an excuse to not work out, but she'd been glad to go to the gym when Indigo called earlier that day. Indigo had seemed a little disappointed by not getting to go into her full routine of guilting Quenby about not working out.

Quenby hated the treadmill, but the days were getting shorter, and she didn't do running outside after dark in the cold. Just wasn't her thing. Even her feet betrayed her. Every time they struck the treadmill, they seemed to alternate the two syllables of his name—Ca-leb, Ca-leb—over and over again.

She needed some time to think. Away from Caleb. She looked at him, and all ability to be rational went right out of her brain.

The night they'd spent together had been amazing. The sex had been great, but so had after. They'd spent hours kissing and touching, but mostly talking. She couldn't remember laughing so much in a long time. But hadn't she thought that she could never be happier than Derek made her once? Just thinking that name made her want to break something. She upped the speed on the treadmill instead.

She couldn't trust that feeling. That feeling was traitorous. So what if he was gorgeous, warm, nice? He had an ugly flaw that would undo it all. They all did. The pretty face masked something dark and ugly.

Besides, he was leaving at the end of the weekend. This was her rebound fun. Sophie had been right. She just needed to have fun for a few days and forget about it. No matter that Caleb kept saying things that didn't make sense about long distance relationships. Maybe he thought he had to fool her to keep the sex coming or something.

She could see herself falling for Caleb, and that was no good at all. He'd been so sweet to her on the worst day of her life. Even when she'd proceeded to make an ass of herself the night following her freedom party, he hadn't made her feel like one. He'd been perfect in every way. She would have almost felt better if she could find a flaw.

He was funny, smart, and seemed genuinely interested in everything she had to say. He told the best stories, they could talk for hours about almost anything, and she'd never had more fun getting to know anyone in her life. Still. She couldn't go through relationship hell again—not so soon after Derek. She was no good at relationships. Besides, who was to say there was even a possibility of a relationship?

She sighed, changing the song on her MP3 player. Then she threw a towel over the display showing her how much time she had left on the treadmill as time absolutely crawled by. Part of the problem was that the harder she tried not to think of Caleb, the more that took up her energy and she couldn't focus on anything else. Needless to say, she was easily distracted.

He wouldn't stop talking about it, though. How he didn't want this to be just a one-time thing. He wanted more than a week with her. Like she was buying that. It wouldn't be a good idea for her to buy it even if she thought there might be some truth behind his words. She wished she could get angry at him, and maybe that would be the end of the crazy thoughts running through her head about being with him—having more in him than a new friend. The problem was, she couldn't stop thinking about the fact that she wanted to see him again. About how nice it would be to come visit him in Georgia sometime the way he'd asked her to.

When Quenby finally stepped off the treadmill, she wiped her face with a towel and turned in the direction of the locker room. Indigo stepped in front of her, blocking her path. Indigo took it upon herself to play her self-designated role as gym hard-ass whenever Quenby didn't have a session with her trainer.

"Where are you going? Today is lower body day." Indigo pointed in the direction of the weight lifting equipment. "I know you hate lower body day, but it's good for us, remember?"

"Yeah, sure." Quenby tried to walk around her again.

"No, you don't."

"I'm just not feeling it today," Quenby said with a sigh.

"Yeah, if we waited 'til we felt like it, we'd never get in here."

"I just—I'm really tired. Tomorrow. I promise."

"What's wrong?" Indigo asked. Her chocolate brown skin gleamed with sweat, and her dark hair was up in its usual workout ponytail. She'd slung a small white towel over her shoulder.

"I had a rough day at work." She'd gone to work that day, telling herself it was because she had to—her monthly reports were due soon. In reality, she didn't trust herself alone with Caleb. Every moment they spent together left in her danger of losing her heart to a man again all too quickly. How could she be sure this one wouldn't be too good to be true?

"Does this have anything to do with that man staying in your house?" Indigo scrunched her eyebrows, giving Quenby a suspicious look.

Quenby hadn't told Indigo about her fight with Caleb that morning, and she didn't feel like getting into it now. She already knew how Indigo felt about the subject of Caleb. She wanted to keep Indigo thinking that Caleb was just her fun fling—and really, that was the truth. She was in control of this thing.

She didn't want Indigo making a big deal about it. Because at the moment, she certainly didn't feel like having a big deal made. "I just—kind of draining. All those reports."

Indigo put a hand on her almost non-existent hip. "Sure." She made exaggerated air quotes. "Reports."

"You're right. Lower body day." Quenby started toward the weight equipment. "Let's go." On second thought, lower body day was better than Indigo digging for info about Caleb and reinforcing the idea that Quenby was making a mistake.

Indigo was relentless, though. She kept asking questions about Caleb, and Quenby kept side-stepping them.

"Just tell me he's fabulous in bed so I can know you're at least getting something out of all these poor choices you're making right now," Indigo finally said.

Quenby accidentally set the weight slam back into place on the machine she was using to work on her quads. After wincing at the sound, she laughed. "Okay. I'll give you that much. He's fabulous in bed."

"Thank you," Indigo said. "Now, is he—"

"Nope. No more questions."

"Just one more." Indigo kept at her as they went to the next machine.

Quenby laughed as she fended off Indigo's questions. Talking to Indigo and working out distracted her for a little while.

Later, as they were leaving the gym, Quenby's phone rang. She trailed behind Indigo when she realized Caleb was calling her.

"What?" she asked.

"Are we really going to waste time fighting about this? I leave Sunday, you know."

"My point exactly."

"Shit." Caleb snapped. The line went dead.

Indigo stopped, turned around, and raised her eyebrows.

Quenby sighed and dropped her phone into her bag. What was she getting herself into?
Chapter 12

Caleb couldn't take it anymore. He had to do something, and he didn't have a lot of time to figure out what and how to do it.

He cared a lot for Quenby. There was no way he could be so mad about all this if he didn't. After that night they spent together, he'd expected things to be different. And when she'd suggested they spend a day away from each other instead of giving him an answer when he asked her a direct question, it pissed him off. He just wanted to know what she saw happening with them after he flew back to Georgia. He should've known sex would mess things up—it had a way of doing that when feelings were involved.

Quenby was hurting, and she needed time to heal. He got that. That was why he'd been respecting her space. But that day had been a little too much for him. She couldn't answer one simple question. It wasn't like he'd asked for her hand in marriage or anything.

He'd just about had it with her. Yes, she was beautiful, funny, smart, interesting. Sweet when she wanted to be. And he had strong feelings for her. But he needed to be with someone who knew what she wanted. His days of playing dating games were over. He was looking for a real, serious woman to be in his life. And as sad as he was to think it, maybe he'd been wrong in thinking Quenby could be that woman.

What a fool he'd talked himself into being. He was leaving in a few days to go back to Georgia. Maybe it was just time to move on, forget about her, before he did something really stupid.

But wasn't it already too late for that? The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to cut Quenby out of his life. In the short—admittedly very short—amount of time he'd known her, she'd added so much to his life. Every time he saw her, he lit up all over. So trying to make the objectively best decision was going to be a real challenge.

And kissing her. There was a thrill in that he'd never felt before. Any time she was close to him, he had to hold himself back from pulling her close and feeling those soft, full lips under his again.

Ha. Adia had warned him not to hurt Quenby. But who was going to protect him from her?

Caleb was a little surprised to hear rattling at the door. So she was finally coming home. She walked in, and he swallowed hard at the sight of her in black Lycra workout pants and a gray T-shirt. He shifted on the sofa.

"Hi." She dropped her gym bag to the floor.

"Hey," he said, shifting again.

"We don't have much time, so I don't see any point in wasting it. I'm going to shower. If you're smart, you'll join me." She walked toward her bedroom.

He couldn't argue with that logic. Still, as he walked into the bedroom, he wracked his brain for solutions to this dilemma of his.

He had to think of a way to show her that he was serious. He couldn't stand being forced to think of Sunday as their last day together. It was getting so that she was all he could think about. No distance, failed wedding, jerk ex-fiancé or anything else could change that. He had to have her. He had to show her that he wasn't like that other guy. He had a few days left to do that, and he was determined not to blow his chance.
Chapter 13

Saturday afternoon, Quenby spent much longer than usual picking out just the right outfit, doing her makeup, and fussing with her hair. Luckily for her, her hair seemed to sense the importance of the day and didn't give her as much of a fit as it usually did.

It was scary how easily he could talk her into things. They were going to spend all day at a festival somewhere out past Charlottesville. Apparently, that was how he wanted to spend their last day. She could've just as easily spent it in bed, but he insisted that going to this thing would be fun.

She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but unlike him, she wasn't playing into dangerous fantasies about getting attached. She knew better than to think anything serious would start between them. But it wouldn't hurt to give him this day at the festival.

She walked out to the living room where he waited for her.

She smiled.

He returned the smile, hazel eyes twinkling. He wore a gray collared shirt with the few top buttons unbuttoned, displaying a delicious bit of his smooth, tanned chest. Apparently, he spent a lot of time out on his boat in the summer. His summer tan hadn't faded yet. His light wash jeans went well with it. Her eyes went down to his boat shoes. No socks. Of course.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Let's do it," she said. She laughed nervously, a little surprised at how nervous she was all of a sudden. "I mean, let's get out of here."

He chuckled. "All right." He stood and walked with her to the door. "Our first date."

"Date?" That was a strange thing to call it.

Caleb grinned, flashing straight, white teeth at her. "Isn't that what you call it when two people who like each other go out to try and get to know each other better?"

She laughed. "I guess." Although she didn't really see the point. Why did he insist on avoiding reality?

"You guess?"

"We've talked about this. Besides." She continued in a playful tone. "How do you know I like you?"

He held the door open for her. "I dunno. Guess I was just hoping you felt the same way as I do."

"And how's that?" She walked out and locked the door after them.

He winked at her. "I just told you. Now are we going to get out of here or not?"

"I guess."

"You and that guess. You're saying that a lot, 'I guess'."

She looked up at him and smiled. "I love the way you say 'guess'. You make the 'e' sound like long 'a'."

"Well, at least you love something about me."

Quenby's cheeks burned.

Quenby owned a white Toyota Corolla. It had no leather interior and no extras, was clean and smelled like oranges. Derek had always used a citrus-scented cleaner on the interior of their cars. She'd been trying to air out that smell all week, but it just wouldn't go.

"Mind if I drive?" he asked.

"Nope." She tossed him the keys and headed for the passenger side. She didn't feel like driving a long distance anyway. She didn't see how he could. They hadn't gotten much sleep the night before.

The drive along 64 West was nice. Quenby always enjoyed riding along that road in the autumn with the leaves turning warm, rusty colors.

They arrived in Barboursville around noon. Caleb had brought her to an autumn festival. There were booths set up selling apples from the recent apple harvests, preserves, quilts, and other foods and crafts. The delightful smells of sugar and frying fat, funnel cake and cotton candy filled the air. Kids ran around carrying helium-filled balloons on strings and shrieking with laughter. Their parents stood around watching them with adoring smiles and carrying on conversations with each other.

They wandered over to a magic show, and the magician asked for volunteers. Caleb surprised her by stepping up. He hammed it up with the magician and had everyone in the audience rolling with laughter. She'd seen the tricks involving handkerchiefs, a deck of cards, and fluffy yellow baby chick and a top hat a dozen times before, but they were still entertaining. Especially with charming Caleb on stage.

He hopped down from the stage and came back to her side while the crowd gave him roaring applause. When he put his arm around her, she said, "You looked good up there."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. So at ease. I would've been nervous in front of all these people. I'll bet you're good at public speaking." She definitely wasn't.

He laughed. "Want to know a secret about me?"

"Sure," she said.

"I used to have a stutter. It kept me from making the debate team in middle school."

"You? Really?"

"Me. Really." He grabbed her hands and kissed her knuckles. "Want to know another secret?"

"Yeah." He could've gotten that response to just about any question he asked at that moment.

"I'm falling for you."

Quenby pulled her hands away. "Don't start."

"Did you ever consider that maybe this isn't easy for me, either?" he asked. "But I'm not running anywhere."

"Why isn't this easy for you?"

"You're not the only one whose marriage plans didn't work out," he said. "I was engaged. Twice."

"Twice?"

He nodded. "Once to my high school sweetheart, Liz. She ended up marrying my cousin." His gorgeous face twisted with a scowl for a moment when he said the word "cousin." Then his expression went blank, and he said, "And last spring...I broke off an engagement with this poor woman. I thought I could make it work, but my heart wasn't in it." He shrugged. "I thought I was cursed when it came to women. Before I met you, that is."

Quenby stared into his eyes, trying to decide what to do with all he'd just told her.

He chuckled. "Or maybe I'm still cursed. Things don't seem to be going so well here."

"How can you be so sure? I mean, about me. Us." She had feelings for him, strong ones, but she was afraid to trust them. She had been wrong pretty much every time when it came to guys so far in life.

"The facts that I haven't been able to take my eyes off you when we're in the same room since I first saw you and that I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we met are pretty strong clues. Caleb linked his arm through hers. "You know, it seemed like a horrible thing to think at the time, but I was relieved when you called off the wedding." He pushed a brown curl away from her face and murmured, "When you said you weren't getting married that day, I knew I had to see you again."

Her hands trembled, and her knees weren't so steady, either.

"You look like you need something hot." His eyes were soft yet intense.

"Huh?" she said weakly.

He nodded to a booth near where they stood. "Cider. I meant they have hot cider over there."

She cleared her throat and hoped her face didn't look as hot as it felt. "Yeah. Yeah I guess that'd be good."

He grinned and steered her in the direction of the booth. "You're actin' real strange. Adorable, but strange."

_Yeah, well, it's your fault,_ she thought.

Moments later, her hands were wrapped around a warm paper cup filled with cider. She took a sip. Warm, a little spicy, and very delicious.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

"You know, I don't know very much about you at all, Caleb Fletcher-Smith. You should share some more of those secrets with me."

"Oh? What would you like to know, Miz Quenby?"

"Tell me about Georgia. About your family. I dunno—anything."

"Not much to tell. I have an older brother. Dad's a surgeon, and nothing you could ever do will ever be good enough for him if you're his son. Even if one of us became president, he'd probably say, 'You're screwing up the whole country, not just your own life now. Way to go, son.' Mom's a worrier and always trying to marry either me or my brother off. That woman loves to play matchmaker."

"You're a very to the point kind of person, huh?"

He shrugged. "What's the point in not being that way?"

"I dunno. It's just that some people aren't that open." Derek had treated every detail in his life outside of Quenby like one huge secret. Sometimes, she felt like he didn't even like talking to her.

"Well, I am. Anything you want from me, I'll give it up," Caleb said, his gaze giving her the impression he was talking about something else entirely. "Now, how's that cider?"

"Really good. You want a sip?" Quenby asked, holding the cup out to him.

He took it, his fingers lingering on hers a moment before wrapping around the cup. After sipping from the cup, he handed it back to her. "You're right. Good stuff."

Quenby smiled and took another sip of the cider.

Everything about the afternoon was perfect. The faint smell of burning wood in the air, the gold and rust colored leaves on the trees, Caleb so close and so attentive. Pretty much everything she could want. Especially when Caleb put his arm around her and left it there for most of the afternoon.

They drove to Charlottesville for dinner. Before eating, they took a walk around the Downtown Mall, a pedestrian mall, where they window-shopped and people watched.

"So tell me more about you," Caleb said when they stopped to look into the window of an art shop at the paintings on display.

"What's the point?" Quenby blurted out. "I mean, you're leaving tomorrow." She pretended to be concentrating really hard on one of the watercolors.

"I don't want to be."

"You're in med school. You kind of have to."

"I wish you'd say this won't be the last time we see each other. Is it so hard for you to say that?"

"It probably won't be. Macon's one of my closest friends. I might go down to Georgia to visit her sometimes."

"That's not what I meant." He captured her chin between his thumb and index finger. She forced her gaze to the street and watched a couple walking over the cobblestones with their golden retriever happily trotting along between them. He brought his lips close to her ear, redirecting her attention to him. "And I think you know what I meant."

"I just got out of a bad relationship. That's kinda how we met, remember? I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now."

He kissed her cheek. "That's not what I asked you."

"Would my saying we'll see each other again really make any difference? This week has been wonderful, but nothing about it is the kind of stuff a real, long-lasting relationship is built on."

"It is to me." He rubbed his hand over his jaw. "I mean, I think it could be. Eventually, that is. If you let it."

"I'll keep that in mind." Quenby said.

He moved closer to her and said in a low voice, "I want to spend more time with you."

"That's going to be kind of hard to do from Georgia." She pulled away, those red-hot feelings she'd felt for Caleb all week threatening to get her in trouble again. Biting her lower lip, she thought about what it would be like to bite his. "Long distance relationships don't work."

"It's just—you're all I think about. And I had to say something."

"I'm hungry. You hungry? We should grab dinner now." She shoved her hands into her pockets.

He nodded and looked down the mall. "Let's go."

The two of them walked past the Paramount Theater and toward the restaurant they had decided on earlier. She pulled her jacket closer to her when what she really wanted to do was pull Caleb to her.
Chapter 14

When they got back from dinner in Charlottesville, she kept her arms folded against her body after letting them into the condo. "I had a good time today. But I think...I think we need to be realistic about this before somebody gets hurt."

Caleb took a seat on the arm of her sofa and looked at her, not saying a word.

"It was a fling, no strings attached, no hard feelings."

He tapped his skilled, surgeon-in-training fingers against his thighs and held her gaze. She thought about the things those fingers had done to her all week long. Very skilled. He didn't back down, didn't say a word.

"Anything we feel right now? It's lust," she said, trying to convince both herself and him of that. "It won't last. It's stupid and silly to think we can make anything more than what we shared work. It was great, hot, but that's all. Just some great sex. And you're a wonderful person, but...I mean, there are just so many reasons it won't work." She wasn't used to being the dumper. She'd been with Derek for over five years, and even before that, she hadn't often been the dumper. The way she was making a mess of things proved that. She didn't know what she wanted to say really. Maybe part of the problem was she didn't want to say any of it. She knew that was the way things had to be, though.

Besides, it wasn't like they'd even had anything real. But it'd sure felt real. No, she had to stop thinking like that. "I mean, you understand, don't you?" She raked her hands through her hair.

He shrugged, but still wouldn't say a word.

"And...and I think it's best if you slept out here tonight." Because she was close to the point of no return. If he touched her one more time, she wasn't sure she could keep up her resolve to keep him out.

He stood. She backed away, shaking her head.

_Please_ , she thought. _Please don't make me fall for you_.

Caleb moved closer. "What if I kissed you right now?" His voice was low and soft, his words lengthened by the drawl of his Southern accent. The type of voice that could seduce all by itself without the aid of hands or lips.

"I think I want you to," she said, betraying herself. With him so close, she couldn't think straight.

"You think? You're not sure?" He put his hands on her triceps, his thumbs rubbing hypnotic circles against them.

"I want you to. Please." Quenby closed her eyes and melted into his fingers. His lips closed over hers. His tongue moved over hers in a seductive dance that made her give up all thoughts of pushing him away. She locked her hands behind his neck and kissed him back the way she'd imagined doing it all day.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered over her lips before kissing her again. He pulled back from the kiss a little to say, "I heard every word you said. All I have to say in return is, I'm going to make sweet, slow, perfect love to you tonight." Caleb pressed his forehead to hers. "That's all."

Those perfect hazel eyes were all she could see. She moved closer until their noses touched and closed her eyes.

Caleb's hands traveled over the thin fabric of her skirt, lingering on her bum. The desire she felt for him flared even hotter as his fingers explored areas very close to where she ached for him.

"I need you," she whispered before biting at his earlobe.

"I know. Need you, too," he said huskily before spinning her back to him again and pulling her close so that she felt exactly how much he needed her.

With his body pressed so close and his hands everywhere, her entire body screamed out for him. She wanted him closer. She wanted him more than anything.

"You're too good at this," Quenby said as his hands moved over her sides, his fingers playing into her flesh.

"At what?" he murmured against her cheek.

"Making me never want you to stop touching me."

"Good." He walked her to the bedroom. Still standing behind her, he unbuttoned her blouse, letting his finger trail over every new inch of skin he exposed. She shivered with delight at every touch, sure that her knees would stop supporting her every time, but somehow they held her up.

"It's been a long, frustrating day of fighting this and I..."

"What? You what, Quenby?" He undid the last button and pushed her blouse off her shoulders. The silk brushed against her skin as it slipped down her arms. She watched it hit the floor. His fingers danced down her neck and over her shoulders, sending shivers up and down her spine.

"When did I take off my jacket?" she murmured, dazed. She was love—no passion, definitely passion—drunk.

"Out there in the living room," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

"You never did say what you think about all this out there in the living room," she said.

"'Cause you already know."

"Do I?" she said before gasping as he massaged her breasts through the lacy fabric of her bra.

"Might be pissed. Definitely horny. A little scared. 'Cause I think I'm in love." Every word was emphasized by a kiss in a lower location on her body. When he kissed her navel, just at the top of her skirt, her knees buckled. She would've fallen over if his hands hadn't been firmly gripping her hips.

"I need a shower," she said, her voice weak with desire. It was one last—and admittedly weak—attempt at getting away.

"I want you. Right here, right now," Caleb said. He tugged at her skirt, pulling it off her hips. The black fabric pooled at her ankles. He stood and licked his lips slowly, removing her bra with slow sweetness. She shivered as his smooth hands moved over her hot flesh. She arched her back, moaning as he teased one of her nipples with his teeth, moving the pad of his thumb in torturously slow circles against the other.

"I want you so much. Screw me now."

"No. I told you what I want tonight, and I'm gonna get it." He pushed her back until she was lying on the bed. He lay on top of her and pressed his cheek to hers for a moment before torturing her with his maddeningly slow and sexy touches and kisses once again.

She felt the hard length of his erection pressed against her bare thigh. Even through his jeans, she could feel how much he wanted her. She moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"No, no," he whispered, easing her legs from his waist and then spreading them wide. She arched her hips in anticipation as he traveled downward.

Just at the moment when she thought she wouldn't be able to take it anymore, he slid his tongue into her. She whimpered with relief. His tongue moved persistently. His kisses were deep and made her craving for him almost unbearable. She was close to orgasmic bliss when he teased the most sensitive part outside of her while his finger found her g-spot inside. Right at the moment she would've shattered, giving over to mind-numbing bliss, he stopped.

"No," she moaned. "Don't stop."

He kissed the insides of her thighs in answer. Trailing kisses back up to her breasts, he let her feel again how much he wanted her.

"You're killing me," she whispered.

Caleb whispered as he entered her, "Same here."

She closed her eyes and smiled, wrapping her legs around him once again. She had her first triple orgasm the first time they made love that night. That didn't take away from the excitement of the second, third, or fourth times they made love at all.
Chapter 15

The next morning, Quenby sat cross-legged in the bed, staring down at Caleb, waiting for him to wake up. His blond hair fell across his face, obscuring it. His strong, muscled back rippled every time he shifted position, sending ripples of delight through her.

She'd made her decision the night before as she fell asleep in his arms. Caleb was the most amazing man she'd ever met. And she'd tried to run through reasons to be afraid of him and what she felt for him and realized she couldn't find any because there were none.

Sure, she'd been with hot guys before who tried too hard to impress her in the beginning and she'd fallen too hard and that had always led to disaster. But none of them had ever looked at her like Caleb did. None had ever cared so much about what she needed or wanted—inside or outside of the bedroom. No one had brought her lunch at work before the way Caleb had Friday even though she'd pissed him off the night before. Even Isaac, the cocky commercial loan officer at her branch, had been jealous of that.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized pushing him away was silly. She needed to stop lying to herself. He was way more than a fling to her. Caleb wasn't just rebound sex. He was worth trying for—even with a couple of states between them.

She wouldn't be happy, and she would always wonder what would've happened, if she didn't at least give things a try with Caleb.

She was ready to move on and Caleb had been a large part of her finally seeing that. If she was truthful with herself, she'd given up on Derek a long time ago. Sure, she had some things to work out when it came to him. They'd been together a long time. But she had already realized that she deserved more than Derek had been willing to give. The problem had never been her. The problem had been with falling in love with love before falling in love with the man. She didn't think she'd made that mistake this time. Caleb hadn't given her the chance.

He finally stirred and looked up at her with those gorgeous hazel eyes. "Hi." He put his hand on her thigh.

"Hi." She smiled down at him.

"What time is it?" He yawned and pushed his hair off of his forehead, looking around for the alarm clock. He sounded slightly hypnotized.

"Almost noon."

"Whoa. Good thing I have a late flight back." He put his head on her thigh.

"Yeah." She buried her fingers in his golden hair and rubbed them against his scalp.

"I've been thinking about something, and I guess I'm running out of time to bring it up."

"What is it?"

He brought her hand to his lips. After kissing it, he said, "What if I transferred to MCV?"

"Huh?" A million questions ran through her mind. What if it didn't work out, and he blamed her for making him leave all his friends and family? What if he hated Richmond? What if he moved in with her, they ended up hating each other, and he couldn't find another place to stay right away?

"I mean, I've been thinking I need to get out of Georgia for at least a little while. I could always apply to hospitals in Georgia when it comes time to match for my residency if I decide I want to go back. And MCV's a good school."

She smiled down at him. "You really want to move up here?"

He kissed her hip, letting his lips linger there a moment. "I want to be wherever you are."

She slid down next to him in the bed and looked directly into his warm hazel eyes. "I love you, Caleb. I hope that's not too much too soon, but I know I do."

"I think it's pretty obvious how I feel, but I love you, too, Quenby. You shouldn't feel like you have to put a maturation date on love." He kissed her cheek. "If you know, then you know."

She grinned and was still grinning when he pressed his lips to hers.

"Coming up here for your wedding was the best decision I ever made. Who would've thought?" He pulled her on top of him.

"Definitely not the bride-to-be," she said. "How much time do we have before you need to leave for the airport?"

"Enough," he said before pulling her to him for a kiss.

They made love until there was barely enough time to get him to the airport and go through security before his flight. If there'd been time, even though they would've risked getting arrested for suspicious activities in a parked car at an airport, they would've tried one last quickie in the short term parking garage.
Epilogue

"Ready, Caleb?" Quenby called. Caleb was in town for the weekend.

"Coming!" Caleb shouted from her bedroom.

"You two are sickening." Adia rolled his eyes. He'd come over that evening to get the key to her place. He was house sitting for her because she was going back to Georgia with Caleb at the end of the weekend. She'd found a good use for the rest of the vacation time she still had from her canceled honeymoon trip.

"You're just jealous. You need to settle down and find some poor, unsuspecting soul to make an honest man out of you." Quenby grinned.

"Tell Macon I said 'hi' while you're down there."

"Don't even start." She pushed at his shoulder. "Please leave her alone and let her get over you."

"No, I'm serious. I miss my friend," he said, looking down at the carpet. "She was always a good friend to me."

"I know," she said.

Macon was getting there, but she needed more time to heal. Quenby could only hope Adia would give her that time.

"Indigo's looking pretty good these days," Adia said with a teasing grin.

"Behave yourself." Quenby playfully punched his arm. "If you make all my friends hate me, I'm going to have to disown you.

Caleb came out of her room carrying their bags. They were spending their first long weekend away together. She couldn't wait to get him to Virginia Beach. October was the best time to go. Maybe the water was too cold for swimming, but it was never crowded, and the off-season hotel prices were a steal.

"You two have fun," Adia said.

"We will," Quenby said as Caleb pulled her toward the door. They said goodbye to Adia and left.

Caleb put his arm around her and kissed her as soon as they were in the hallway.

Quenby leaned into his side as they walked toward the elevator. "Caleb?"

"Hm?"

"Would you ever leave a girl at the altar?"

"Depends on the girl. Now you? Never." Caleb nuzzled his face against her hair. "And if you tried to leave me there, I'd follow you right on out of that church."

She smiled, hugging him close.

~ THE END ~
