“Don’t guys carry them in their wallets just in case?” she asked.

He let out a low laugh. “Not this guy. I haven’t had a just-in-case situation in a while.”

“But this is so unfair! I wanted a one-night stand! I—” She broke off and brightened as she remembered she had a small box of condoms in the bathroom among the stuff she’d brought with her from San Francisco. “Don’t move,” she said, and pushed him off of her to run to the bathroom. Naked and not caring, she dug through the drawers. “Here!” In triumph, she raced back to the bed wielding the box. “Don’t ask,” she said, and jumped back on the bed.

A quick study, Tanner snatched a condom, protected them both, and then, kneeling on the bed, pulled her to him so that she was straddling his thighs.

Guiding her hips, he slid in. Deep. Deliciously deep. “Oh,” she said in wondrous surprise, clutching his shoulders. He felt good, so good.

He rocked into her so that she was taking all of him now, his gaze never leaving hers as both their worlds came apart and then back together again, face to face, skin to skin, heart to heart.

When he could move, Tanner rolled to his side and pulled Callie in tight, stroking her still-trembling, damp body. “You still with me?”

“Mm-hmm.” She was practically purring, her face pressed into his throat, her breathing still erratic. “Loved that,” she murmured.

“Good. Because we’re going to do it again.”

“Was hoping you would say that,” she said.

Chapter 16

Somewhere in those dark, erotic hours, Callie fell back on the bed, gasping for air.

Next to her Tanner did the same.

“Holy cow,” she whispered. “We’re going to kill each other.”

Laughing low in his throat, he entwined their fingers and brought hers to his mouth. “Not a bad way to go.”

Agreed, she thought, and her smile faded in the dark. “And I meant it before. This changes nothing.”

“I’m not worried,” he said.

“Good.” She was no longer upset about what he’d said at the bar. She got it. She really did. After all, she didn’t want this to mean anything either.

But she knew better. And even though she really had meant it—that this changed nothing—she knew better there too.

A worry for the morning, she decided. And luckily morning was still hours away. With great effort and a moan she sat up and pulled on the first piece of clothing she came to—Tanner’s shirt—and together they hit her kitchen for sustenance.

In the harsh fluorescent lighting she ran a hand down her hair, fully aware that she must look like a complete train wreck.

Tanner caught her hand. “You’re beautiful.”

She let out a soft, self-conscious laugh.

“I mean it,” he said. “I like you like this.” He lightly tugged at a strand of her hair. “Hair wild.” He ran his fingers along her jaw. “Relaxed…” He met her gaze. “When your walls are down,” he said, “that’s when I can’t take my eyes off you.”

She shook her head but he cupped her face, held her gaze, and said her name in that voice that would’ve melted her panties off—if she’d been wearing any. “Callie.”

“Still don’t want to talk,” she whispered, and then she made them a snack of apple slices, cheese, and crackers.

And warm chocolate milk.

Tanner looked at the milk. “TyingTheKnot.com says a romantic late-night snack should include liquor.”

She sighed. “What did I tell you about reading my site?”

He flashed a grin that made her want him again. “You’re not practicing what you preach,” he said. “I find that fascinating.”

“It all leads to heartache and annoyance,” she said, and then winced when his smile faded. “Don’t listen to me,” she said. “I always end up saying things to you that I don’t mean to.”

He stopped her when she would’ve walked by him. Taking the plate from her hands, he set it down and then drew her in, eyes dark and serious. “I’m sorry I didn’t pay you the attention you deserved in high school,” he said. “I was an asshole.”

“No, you weren’t.” She moved to grab the plate again but he stopped her.

Stroking a finger along her temple, her ear, and then her jaw, watching the movement of his touch, he said, “You have a lot to offer, Callie. I don’t like thinking you aren’t going to ever try again to find the right guy.”

She shook her head, even as something deep inside her quivered. She didn’t know if it was because he clearly meant every word or because she understood he wasn’t talking about himself. Or maybe she was just hungry. “Why does it matter to you?”

He was quiet a moment. “You matter to me.”

The words were a little thrill, but they came with some of that pain he’d not wanted to cause her. “Let me get this straight,” she said slowly. “You want me to find a guy. The right guy.”

“Yeah.”

“Now?” she asked. “Because I should probably change out of your shirt first.”

He took her in from head to toe, slowly. “At the risk of sending mixed messages,” he finally said, yanking her into him, “you’re not going anywhere.” He slid his hands beneath the shirt, cupped a cheek in each hand, and hoisted her up until she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He carried her to the bed, which was now minus most of its bedding thanks to their extracurricular activities.