Overheated

CHAPTER SIX

“WALK WITH ME?” LARRY ASKED in a gentle voice, even as he backed off and put an inch of space between them.

Crystal squelched her burgeoning fantasy. She was obviously getting away from herself on the romance front. They were staying in separate rooms, and he’d made it perfectly clear he was expecting a platonic weekend.

Maybe he wasn’t ready to move past his wife? He’d certainly made it clear that he’d loved her.

“Sure,” said Crystal.

He gave her a brisk rub on the upper arms before letting her go. Then he headed inside and retrieved the leash, calling to Rufus. He secured the sliding door and opened the low gate at the top of the staircase that led to the beach.

Crystal turned her attention to the strip of sculpted, white sand. An enthusiastic Rufus trotted down the narrow staircase in front of them.

The tide was high, and a few fluffy clouds made their way across the open blue sky. Crystal pulled off her sandals and dropped them on the bottom stair. She fluffed her hair and took a deep breath of the fresh air, while Rufus trundled, nose down, toward the pulsing foam.

“Should we keep him on the leash?” Larry asked as the dog investigated a bulb of yellow seaweed.

“I don’t think he’ll go far.”

There was no one else in sight. The couple with the white dog were long gone. Rufus trotted ahead on the wet sand, in the general direction of the town site. He found another scent trail, followed it for a few yards, then took off on a new tangent.

Larry stretched out his hand, capturing Crystal’s and twining their fingers together. She let herself sink into the silence of the sky and the gentle whoosh of the waves as they gradually relinquished their hold on the mushy sand.

“Ever been sailing?” Larry asked, his gaze going to the white flashes of sail far out in the bay and the bare masts rocking closer in at anchor.

“Recreational pursuits were never high on my parents’ list of priorities.”

“Yeah?”

She shook her head. “No picnics, no camping, no amusement parks.”

“What did you do on vacation?”

She listed off on her fingers. “Marketing trips, tool trade shows…”

“I hear you. I spent my formative years in NASCAR garages or at midget tracks.”

“Midget tracks?”

“That’s where Dean got started.” Larry smiled, but there was something other than joy in his eyes. “All racing, all the time.”

“Did you race?”

“Nope. I spent a lot of time in the pits with my nose in a textbook.”

Crystal paused, trying to picture Larry as a young boy, next to the toolboxes, fuel tanks and spare parts. “Was it hard?” she asked.

“I liked textbooks.”

“No. I mean, was it hard having your family focus exclusively on Dean’s dreams and not on yours?” At least Crystal had an ally in Amber. Amber had hated business trips, too.

“I didn’t need a pit crew, and I didn’t need to drive from town to town. I could do what I loved anywhere.”

“You know what I mean.”

Larry shrugged. “When you live in a NASCAR family, you live in a NASCAR family. And we love each other. We’re an extremely close family.”

Crystal felt her heart softening. “Still-”

“It was a long time ago,” he said.

“It wasn’t fair.”

He stopped, turned to face her, and cocked his head to one side. “Hey.”

“It wasn’t fair,” she repeated.

A grin grew on his face. “If life was fair, sweetheart, we’d be living in a whole different world.”

The endearment spurred the butterflies in her stomach.

Then a wet Rufus bounded up, shaking his fur and dropping a piece of driftwood at Larry’s feet.

Larry gamely reached down and tossed the stick into the waves. “See that? Rufus’s got his priorities straight.”

“Did you even feel pressured?” she asked as Rufus plunged into the surf.

“About what?”

“To go into racing.”

“You bet. Milo is practically a force of nature, and Juliana only wanted Milo to be happy. Together, they wanted me to race. It was hard to stick to my guns.” His expression turned thoughtful. “So, I was always careful to put as many choices as I could in front of Steve. And he decided he liked racing. Go figure.”

“I was a disappointment to my parents,” Crystal admitted.

“They wanted a boy to carry on the family business?”

She shook her head. “There are plenty of female machinists in the world. And they’d have settled for an accountant or a marketing manager.”

“But they got a creative writer.”

Crystal flicked her windblown hair away from her face, while Rufus made a neat turn in the waves, the stick clasped in his mouth. “Who moonlights delivering car parts.”

“What about Amber?”

“Amber got married and gave them grandchildren.”

“Another acceptable life pursuit?”

“Jennifer and David give them a whole new chance at an heir apparent. Though they wouldn’t complain if I produced a few more.”

Something changed in the timbre of Larry’s voice. “You going to?”

“Maybe,” said Crystal. She liked kids. And she could handle being both a mom and a writer. If she happened to find a man with a house and a good job, she could even move out of the apartment. “Know any guys who own real estate?”

“There are other options,” he pointed out, watching Rufus drop the stick at his feet.

“Such as?”

“You could set aside a little each month, find a nice starter, a good mortgage broker.”

“Is this going to be a math lecture, Professor Grosso?”

“More of a life lecture.”

She pushed away from him, wading into the cool water until she was ankle deep. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not ruining my weekend with practicality. Let’s talk some more about sailing.”

“You want to take a spin around the bay?”

“I’m talking about a fantasy. I see a thatched hut, palm trees, a bright cotton dress and two very large blender drinks.”

“So, that’s your fantasy?”

“That’s my fantasy.” She sidled back up to him, grinning playfully. “What’s yours?”

His eyebrows went up. “You’re joking, right?”

His gaze burned hers. Gold flecks appeared deep in his hazel eyes, burning bright and molten in the afternoon sun. He tilted his chin and cocked his head, leaning slightly in to engulf her in a wave of desire so strong her knees almost buckled.

Oh?

“Yeah,” he answered her silent question.

She waggled her index finger back and forth between them just to be sure.

He nodded.

She swallowed.

He hesitated for a split second. “You okay with that?”

In answer, she came up on her toes and planted a heartfelt kiss on his mouth. She was completely okay with that, and overwhelmed that he’d been formal enough to ask.

He responded in under a second, his mouth opening, his arms going around her, while he dragged her flush against his body.

It was Rufus’s bark that drove them apart. The dog deposited the wet stick at Larry’s feet.

Larry quickly bent down and threw the driftwood stick in the direction of the beach house. Then he gazed at Crystal, eyes smoldering. “Race you back?”

She grinned and took off across the soft sand.

They made it to the staircase, breathing hard. Without stopping, Larry scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing at all.

Before she could protest, they were on the deck. He opened the glass door, let Rufus into the cool, quiet haven, then continued up the interior staircase, into the first bedroom in the hallway.

There, he slowed to a stop next to a massive, four-poster. He leaned in to kiss her, sliding her slowly along his body until her feet sank into the thick, cream-colored carpet. The bed had an emerald comforter and eight plump pillows, and the bay window was covered in lacy sheers. Burgundy and gold wallpaper panels were separated by strips of polished wood molding that matched the spires of the bed.

Larry slid the pad of his thumb along her jawline. “You are so incredibly beautiful,” he breathed.

“Mathematically speaking?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Mathematically, artistically, scientifically. Come up with any benchmark in the world, you’ll blow it out of the water.”

Something inside her melted.

He cupped her cheek, slowly leaning forward, kissing her forehead, the tip of her nose. He touched his index finger to her chin, raising it, bending to her mouth. She strained toward him, and his lips engulfed her own once more.

She groaned at the exquisite sensation, and he pushed his outspread fingers into her hair, wrapping his other arm tightly around her body, anchoring her to him. She wound her arms around his neck, pressing her body tight against his strength.

His fingertips found a space between her shorts and her cropped T-shirt. They trailed along the exposed skin of her back, raising goose bumps and sending tingles of desire skittering up her spine.

She teased her tongue along his bottom lip.

He pressed her body more tightly into his, treating her to a kiss that made the fine hairs spring up on her forearms and her toes curl tight around the carpet fibers.

A shudder rushed through her, heat pooling in her stomach, her skin flushing hot in the streaming sunbeams. It was going to be so good. They were going to be so good together.

She waited.

“You absolutely sure about this?” he rasped.

In answer, she took a step back. She ripped her T-shirt over her head, tossing it on a nearby armchair, then walked back into his arms.

“One hundred percent,” she whispered as her lips met his all over again.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, reveled in the taste of his mouth. He drew her into his arms, murmuring compliments all the while, and lowering her onto the deep mattress.

LARRY GAZED AT CRYSTAL across the table on the deck. The setting sun turned a few high clouds wispy pink, and the ocean was changing from bright-blue to gunmetal-gray. White foam still bubbled brightly on the sand, and a few people strolled by on the beach as the evening wind picked up speed.

But Crystal held his attention, legs curled beneath her in one of the deck chairs. They’d spent several hours in bed, making love, then napping, then making love all over again. He felt like a teenager. When hunger had finally roused them, she’d co-opted his navy-blue T-shirt, dragging it over her tousled hair while he called the local grocery store for delivery.

Now, she was munching on a lemon tart, licking the meringue from her fingers. He’d intended the tarts for dessert, but he wasn’t about to complain about her idiosyncrasies. He couldn’t believe this gorgeous creature had been in his bed. She was everything any man could possibly want: sweet, sexy, funny and smart.

“You’re not hungry?” she asked, pushing the plastic container of lemon tarts toward him.

“I’m saving mine for dessert,” he answered.

“You’re much too traditional.”

“That’s not what you said an hour ago.”

She grinned like a Cheshire cat, and pushed the tart package closer to him. “Go ahead, Professor. Live on the wild side.”

He gave into her beguiling smile, lifting a tart to his mouth. “You know,” he told her before biting into the flakey pastry and the tangy sweet filling, “There’s this thing called Chaos Theory.”

She waited, green eyes wide with expectation.

He swallowed. “It reminds me of you.”

“This doesn’t sound good.”

Oh, it was good. It was intriguingly, amazingly good in this instance. “In part,” he continued, “it’s when the tiniest shift, over time, results in a massive change. And the seemingly chaotic reactions that follow are actually pre-ordained.”

“You lost me,” she admitted, but stretched across the table to snag another tart.

“When you climbed out of that parts delivery truck in Charlotte, despite the astronomical odds stacked against it, I believe I was pre-ordained to eat lemon tarts before dinner.”

A slow smiled grew on her face, and she bit sexily into the second tart. “Where I believe we were pre-ordained to end up in bed together. The tarts were entirely optional.”

Larry matched her grin. “I’ll give that one some thought.”

“Do that. In the meantime, this girl doesn’t survive on dessert alone.”

“You’re looking for a steak?” he guessed.

“I am. And some of that wine you keep bragging about.”

He rose from his chair and retrieved a fork to check on the potatoes baking on the grill.

A few seconds later, Crystal sidled up behind him, her arms went around his waist, and she laid her cheek against his back.

He covered her hands. “I seem to recall something about you doing the cooking,” he teased.

“Apparently,” she responded with a happy sigh, “I’m unreliable.”

“You think any self-respecting teacher would let you get away with that lame excuse?”

“You will,” she assured him. And then she paused. “Because I’m naked under your shirt.”

“That’ll do it,” he admitted.

She disentangled herself while he unwrapped the filet mignon. He seared them on the grill and added a combination of spices.

He thought he was the luckiest man on earth, as they dined al fresco at the glass table, while the sky turned to midnight purple and a quarter moon rose above the distant horizon.