That Summer Night (Callaways #6) (9 page)

He stared at her like she'd completely lost her mind. "I don't know…"

"I'm right, Reid."

"Now who's being cocky?"

She shrugged. "I know what I'm good at, and I'm good at figuring things out. Plus, I know Robert, and I'm getting to know you. From what you've told me about your relationship with your brother and your family, it all makes perfect sense."

"It's possible," he conceded. "But let's bring it back to what's happening now. If you're so smart, tell me why Robert wants this notebook."

She sighed. "I don't know. Maybe we haven't hit on the right sketch yet. How many more pictures are there?"

"A lot. Almost every page has been used. My brother certainly spent a lot of time drawing the past few months."

"This could take some time then."

"I think so," he agreed.

She settled back more comfortably on the couch, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. It had been a long day and an even longer week. Reid said something. She couldn't really comprehend the words, but the tenor of his voice was very soothing. Her eyes felt dry and heavy; she she couldn't keep them open for another minute. For the first time in a long time she felt safe.

* * *

Shayla was asleep, a sweet sexy angel. Reid watched the whisper of breath pass through her parted lips, the sweep of dark lashes that framed her eyes, the soft pink luster of her skin. She'd pulled the band out of her hair when she settled back against the couch, and now her long blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in silky waves.

He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, lean over and frame her face with his hands and kiss her until she came awake in his arms.

But that would be more than selfish, he thought, trying to put on the brakes. Shayla was exhausted. She hadn't slept since she'd gotten back from Colombia, and she needed to rest, to let her mind take a break from all the fear and the worry.

He suspected that she'd been pushing herself hard for a long time, even before Colombia. Like his brother, she'd started college at a young age and had been in dedicated pursuit of degrees since she was sixteen. Had she even had a childhood? Had she dated in high school? Or, like his brother, had she been isolated and awkward?

As the questions ran around in his mind, he realized it was the first time in maybe ever that he'd thought so much about a woman he wasn't sleeping with.

He smiled to himself. Life would have been a lot easier if he'd gone home with one of the women from the bar tonight. If he hadn't been at the Cadillac Lounge when Shayla arrived, then he wouldn't be here now. Although, Shayla would have no doubt come looking for him again, and she would have eventually found him. She didn't quit easily. That much he knew. She was a fighter, and she was battling now for his brother, of all people.

He wondered again about their relationship. Shayla had been emphatic that there was nothing between her and Robert except friendship. He hoped that was the truth. But he couldn't help wondering if Robert felt differently about Shayla than she felt about him. The two of them certainly had a lot in common with their backgrounds, their careers, and their interests. His brother might have been an obsessed intellectual most of his life, but he wasn't blind when it came to women.

Which brought him back to Lisa.

With a sigh, he shoved Lisa's face out of his head. He'd told Shayla he was over her, over what had happened, and that was mostly true. He hadn't thought about Robert or Lisa in years.

Sighing, he shifted positions as his bad leg began to ache. He should go home, but his houseboat seemed very far away at the moment. Like Shayla, he hadn't been getting a lot of sleep lately between his healing injuries and the nightmares that often plagued his dreams. But tonight he felt far too comfortable to move.

Kicking his legs up on the coffee table, he set the notebook down, leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. He'd just take a little nap. Then he'd go home. Then he'd figure out what to do next.

As he sought the welcome oblivion of sleep, the pictures from Robert's notebook began to run through his mind, some of them bringing back really strong memories, especially the one of the dog in the back of the car going off to the university.

"Reid, are you coming?"

He heard his mom's voice, but he ignored her question, focusing instead on the video game playing on the television in his bedroom.

"Reid, come down and say goodbye," she yelled. "We need to get on the road. Robert has freshman orientation at three o'clock."

He didn't want to say goodbye to his brother. He couldn't even believe Robert was going to college at fifteen. It seemed like a joke to him. Sure, Robert was smart, but college? He was going to be a nerd freak among a bunch of eighteen-year-olds who wanted to party and have sex. Why his brother had agreed to go was beyond him.

"Reid," his mother said, appearing in his doorway. There was frustration and anger in her eyes. "Didn't you hear me calling? You need to say goodbye to your brother."

"I already said goodbye," he lied. Actually, he'd been avoiding Robert all day and most of the past week. He didn't know what to say to his twin. He hadn't known what to say for a long time. They'd once been super close but now they were strangers.

"Robert needs you," she said. "You think he doesn't care, but he does, much more than you know."

His brother didn't care. Robert barely spoke to him. His head was always buried in a book. He turned his attention back to the video game, hoping his mother would just go away.

He heard her angry breath for another second, then her footsteps going down the stairs, the sound of the front door closing and a car driving away. They were gone. He was alone.

And then a voice rang through the quiet.

"You should have said good-bye, Reid."

He jumped to his feet and whirled around to see a beautiful blonde sitting on his bed. Suddenly he wasn't fifteen anymore. He was all grown up. "It didn't matter, Shayla."

Her blue eyes scolded him. "Of course it mattered. You're his brother. He was moving away from home, and he was scared."

"You don't know that he was scared."

"I do. He told me."

"That was years later," he reminded her.

"That doesn't make it not true." She paused. "Robert needs you now. This time you have to go to him. This time it matters a lot."

"What has Robert ever done for me?" he countered. "Why is it always about him?"

"I don't know about always. I just know about now. You need to stop fighting yourself, Reid. You want to help him. You just don't want to admit it." She took a breath, then said, "Saving him doesn't have to mean you forgive him."

He stared at her in amazement. Was she reading his mind? "You're crazy."

"And I'm right," she said, getting up from the bed. "You're dreaming about me now, because you want me to tell you what to do. Then the decision won't be yours, it will be mine."

"I don't think that's why I'm dreaming about you," he said as she came closer, so close he could smell the lavender scent in her hair. He took a breath so deep it made his head spin. Or maybe it was just being near her. She made him feel like he was about to fall, and he never fell…

"What other reason could there be?" she asked.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?"

Her cheeks turned pink as her blue eyes brightened like a summer sky. "Everyone is beautiful in a dream."

He smiled, her modest words confirming what he'd just told her. "You don't see yourself as I see you."

"And how is that?" she asked softly, her lips so inviting, so kissable.

"Naturally pretty with smart eyes, an even smarter mouth, and a pair of beautiful breasts."

She subconsciously crossed her arms in front of her chest. "They're not that great. And you wouldn't know, because you haven't seen them."

"In my imagination I have."

"We only met a few hours ago."

"And I was imagining you naked about five minutes after I saw you." He put his hands on her hips, leaned in and took the kiss he was hungering for.

Her lips opened like a flower to the sun. He tasted her warmth, letting her heat chase away the cold chill that had surrounded him for months. He raised his hand to her head, cupping the back of her neck, bringing her in even closer. Her hair fell in silky strands over his hand. He twisted his fingers in the soft curls as he took the kiss even deeper, as he let the spell that she had cast over him take hold.

She was everything that he'd ever wanted, and he was suddenly scared that she would slip away. Her scent was already fading. A chill filled the air between them as her features began to fade into the light.

"Don't go," he pleaded. "I need you."

God, where had that come from? He'd never told a woman that before, not even Lisa. He'd told Lisa he loved her, but he'd never said he needed her. Maybe that was why she had left…

But he didn't care about her anymore. It was the beautiful blonde with the haunted innocent blue eyes, the woman whose heart was just begging to be broken. But he didn't want to be the one to break it. He'd seen so much pain, so much suffering, and felt so much loss in his life. He didn't want that for her. He wanted to hold Shayla in this perfect dream where nothing bad could ever happen.

He reached for her as a voice rang through the haze in his head.

"Reid!"

Shayla?

Was he still dreaming?

"Reid, wake up."

Shayla's tone was sharper now. He blinked, opening his eyes. They weren't in his old bedroom anymore. They were in Shayla's apartment, on her couch, and he was sprawled on top of her, his legs pinning her down, his right hand tangled in her hair, his left hand remarkably close to the swell of her breast.

"Reid?" she said again, a catch in her voice as they gazed into each other's eyes. "What were you dreaming about?"

"You," he said huskily. "I was dreaming of you."

Awareness and desire flared in her eyes. She might not have been dreaming about him, but she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"You kept telling me to stay," she murmured.

"But you weren't listening," he said, his gaze holding on to hers. "You were leaving me."

"Really, because right now I can't imagine why I'd want to go."

"I can't either."

He started to lower his head, but she put her hand against his chest, stopping his progress. "We probably shouldn't," she said.

"You really are the good girl, aren't you?"

"More like the smart girl."

"Don't you get tired of being smart?"

She let out a soft sigh. "More than I could ever say."

"Once in a while you have to do something, not because it's good or smart or right, but just because you want to. But you never do that, do you?"

"Almost never," she whispered. And then she flung her arm around his neck and brought his mouth down to meet hers.

There was no gentle tenderness between them, no slow exploration of the senses. His dream had already fueled the fire, and the feel of her body under his was enough to drive any sane man out of his mind. He kissed her with a fever that couldn't be contained, and she met him kiss for kiss with the same amount of passion, the same level of need.

He searched for bare skin, feeling a little thrill when he found the edge of her shirt, when his hand came to rest on her abdomen.

Shayla moved restlessly against him, shifting as he sought the curve of her breast, sighing a little as his fingers slid under the edge of her bra.

He raised his head and met her gaze, and saw that she was right there with him. Thank God!

He moved on to his side, helping her pull the shirt over her head, revealing a lacy black bra barely containing her beautiful breasts. The sight was even better than he'd imagined. His heart hammered against his chest. Blood thundered through his veins. And he was about to bury his face in those soft, enticing curves when the front door opened.

A female voice said, "Whoops! So sorry!"

Shayla shoved him away.

He sat up in confusion as Shayla immediately put her hands over her breasts.

"I'm not looking. I swear I'm not looking," the woman said, holding a hand over her eyes as she took a wide berth around the couch to get to the hallway. "I'm going into my room, putting on my headphones," the woman added as she hit the hallway, and the next sound was her bedroom door closing.

"Oh, God," Shayla muttered, grabbing her shirt off the floor. She quickly pulled it back over her head.

He stared at her in bemusement. The switch from passion to off hadn't quite resonated in his brain. But Shayla was clearly moving on. Her face was red, her hair a tousled mess, her lips swollen from his kisses. And her eyes were a mix of frustration and embarrassment.

He wasn't embarrassed, but he was frustrated, especially when he shifted uncomfortably in his now too tight jeans. He didn't really care what her roommate had seen. He only regretted the fact that she'd come home.

But it was morning, he realized. They'd slept all night. There was sun coming through the slit in the curtains. He hadn't realized how long he'd been asleep. He'd only closed his eyes for a moment.

"I can't believe Kari saw us," Shayla muttered, running her fingers through her hair.

"A few minutes later, and she would have seen a lot more of us."

"Maybe it's good she came home, before we did something stupid."

"You mean something amazing," he countered.

"Amazing sometimes turns to stupid a few hours later. You and me—we're not together. We barely know each other. I don't do this. I mean I really don't do this."

"I believe you," he said.

"I was half asleep and so were you. It was a moment of madness."

He settled back against the couch. "And that moment has passed."

"Yes."