Sorry, buddy. Garnet’s just descending from the glacier and Lachlan’s finishing up with the dog. Successful call, though. Found the missing skier. We’ll be another hour or two.
Caleb read the text from Zach, and something undefinable twinged in his chest.
He glanced at the Frenched lamb racks in the roasting pan on the oven, their clean bones threaded together. Good thing he hadn’t put the meat in yet.
This is what happened when two thirds of your dinner party volunteered for the local search and rescue branch. Hanukkah dinner got delayed when some idiot went out-of-bounds. The asshole was lucky he hadn’t ended up four feet under a snowfield. Hell, two feet was enough when you had a shattered hand and broken leg. Caleb knew that all too well.
What he hadn’t known was that Garnet was on Zach’s team to begin with. He dabbed at his clammy forehead with the dishtowel he’d flung over his shoulder. Make a decision, Matsuda. Time to back slowly away from this woman, or to run toward her, eyes closed to all the parts of her that made him break into a cold sweat.
A few expletives ran through his head. Running toward her sounded way too risky, but small, measured steps could work. He couldn’t keep letting one horrible day dictate the rest of his life. There was nothing wrong with having post-traumatic stress, but it didn’t need to be the driver moving forward. He deserved to feel fulfilled. To adapt.
And really, wasn’t that what dinner tonight was supposed to be? Adapting to having friends who spent a good deal of their time doing things Caleb could never see himself doing again?
An hour later, after he dealt with the purple potatoes and asparagus and cleaning all the prep dishes, Zach, Cadie and Marisol finally showed up, followed a few minutes later by Lachlan. No word from Garnet, though. Seemed kind of odd that she wouldn’t text him once she was finished with her duties.
Cadie, standing next to him arranging an appetizer on a plate, caught him checking the clock on the microwave and grinned. “She’ll be here.”
“You sure?” His doubt spilled out before he could claw it back.
Grin softening to a knowing smile, Cadie squeezed his shoulder, then turned her head to shoot a dirty look at Zach. “Did you not pass on Garnet’s message, babe?”
Zach took a pull from his beer bottle, and raised a puzzled eyebrow. “Yeah, I mentioned that she was stuck on the glacier like the rest of us.”
“No, genius, that her cell died from being out of range.”
“I was incident commander, doing eight things at once, belleza—I can’t remember.” Zach shrugged at Caleb. “Sorry if I forgot.”
Relief lightened Caleb’s chest.
Good grief. He had it way too bad for this woman. He waved off Zach’s apology before sticking the lamb in the oven, his glasses fogging up from the heat. He curled his lip and blew air up at them until they cleared. “Was it a sticky rescue?”
Zach launched into a detailed story about Garnet up on the glacier that had sweat prickling at Caleb’s hairline again, so when the doorbell rang, he was only too happy to answer it.
Her apologetic smile greeted him. In the gentle light of the strands of white bulbs he’d wrapped around the posts and rails on his front porch—he hadn’t wanted to be the only person on his street without lights up—Garnet glowed. A hand-knit scarf circled her neck. Her knee-length black coat prevented him from telling what she had on underneath, but her shapely calves in bright teal tights made him smile. Ethereal, almost. She’d done something subtle to her eyes and a pink sheen highlighted her lips.
“Hey,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and kissing her cheek. “You look fantastic.”
“Thanks.” She clutched a wine bag in one hand and a plastic-wrapped platter in another. He took the platter from her with a thank-you and rested it on the porch railing so that he could link his fingers through hers.
“Welcome,” he said, all of a sudden wondering if his two-story house, modern and different from the others nearby, would stand up to the approval of a local. Not that he’d built it, but he’d still been in city mode when he’d bought the place.
She didn’t even seem to be looking at it, though; she had her apologetic gaze fixed on his. “I’m so sorry I’m late. But there was no way I could come straight here without cleaning up, not after four hours of hiking and climbing and hauling a snarky twenty-year-old guy out of the wilderness on a sled.”
Caleb exhaled before his lungs could seize up. “It’s all good. Zach was keeping me updated.”
“Yeah, Zach. Not me. And I couldn’t get my cell to work when I got home, either. I think the battery’s shot.” Her gaze flitted from the open neckline of his dress shirt to his waist and up to his face. A silver spark of desire lit her eyes. She leaned in to return the cheek kiss. Her breath warmed his night-air-chilled ear. “You look fantastic, too. Your glasses...they make you look really... I mean, they suit you.”
“I’ll wear them more often, then.” He grinned. She was hatless, and a mass of loose-but-tamed curls spilled over her shoulders. He inhaled as subtly as he could, enjoying the scent of mint and woman.
She rested her cheek to his chest for a second and went to give him a hug, but stopped, and stepped back, holding out her still-full right hand. Her face screwed up with uncertainty. “I brought wine, but I understand if you can’t accept a gift. I’ll leave it in my car and give it to you another time... I mean, I looked up Jewish holidays online, and I read not to bring host gifts after sundown for Shabbat, but I wasn’t sure the same rules applied to Hanukkah and—”
He stroked her cheek, letting his thumb linger near the corner of her mouth. “You read up on Hanukkah?”
She nodded.
“Dreidels and gelt?”
“That was mentioned.”
Damn, he needed to taste her mouth. Tilting his head, he dropped a soft kiss to her lips, savoring the hint of sweetness in her gloss. She tasted better than anything he had roasting in the kitchen. A frigid blast of wind made goose bumps rise on his forearms, but he didn’t much care about being out in the cold in only his shirtsleeves, not when it meant he got a private space of time with Garnet. He brushed a kiss at the base of her ear. Reveled in her shiver against his mouth. “What did Google say about lamb and potatoes?”
“Didn’t come across that.” Her hand rested on the placket of buttons on his shirt. He slid a hand along her waist, disguised as it was by the belt on her coat. Her fingers tensed against his chest and her lips parted.
“Well, that’s what I’m making. And I’m not observant, Shabbat or otherwise. I’m hoping you have a bottle of red wine hidden in that bag, because nothing complements a good cut of lamb like something with a bit of body or spice to it.”
A wide smile crossed her face. “Body or spice? There’s a cheesy, suggestive comment somewhere in that statement.”
He took the wine bag by the handles and used the transfer as an excuse to catch her fingers and brush a kiss across her knuckles. “My mother smacked all the cheesy suggestion out of me while I was still impressionable.”
“There’s room in feminism for a little innuendo now and again,” she murmured, stealing another quick kiss.
Tracing his thumb along her plush lower lip, he sent her a rueful look. “If we stay out here much longer, everyone’s going to know what we’ve been up to.”
She blinked, and the corners of her mouth turned down. “I wasn’t particularly worried about that, but if you are...”
He hated putting that look on her face, the trace of sadness that stole from what he’d thought was an endless reserve of joy. Ignoring the cold threatening to form ice crystals in his hair, he put the wine next to the plate she’d brought and tugged on her waist, bringing her flush with his body. “Then again, I doubt anyone’s going to care.”
Their lips touched. A rush of need tumbled through him, racing along his skin. His pants weren’t going to be flat-fronted anymore, not at this rate. The mint on her lips flooded his tongue. He wanted to dig his hands into her hair, but figured she wanted the strands to be purposefully teased, not actually messy. He kept his hand at her waist and settled the other on her neck, tilting her back a little and slowing the kiss. The whimper of complaint against his mouth, her fingers tensing on his back urging him to speed up again, had him groaning.
A too-fast warning bell clanged in his brain. The world blurred, like he was on the slope in flat light without the right color of goggles. Backing off, he glanced to the side, pretended to adjust one of the strands of clear lights.
They’d probably overstayed their welcome on the porch.
Their friends getting the wrong idea was one thing. But would he be able to give this woman what she deserved? Was he being selfish by pursuing even casual dating? He didn’t know if he could handle her working for SAR. He respected it, absolutely. But it scared the crap out of him.
As did the way kissing her felt like way more than just a kiss.
Because the heat in her expression suggested things could go from casual to something more damn quick.
“Caleb... That keeps getting...” She brought her fingers to her lips and an audible exhalation shuddered from her lungs.
“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Good thing, or bad thing?”
Before she could answer, Zach stuck his head out the door. His gaze flicked between Garnet’s hand-covered mouth and Caleb’s face, and he shook his head. “The timer dinged on your quiche things.”
“Take them out, then,” Caleb grumbled. He cupped Garnet’s elbow and nudged her toward the door. “Come in and warm up.”
Though if she was anything like him, her body would be smoking from that kiss for days.
Garnet spent most of dinner feeling a little distant from the rest of the group. Stunned, probably, were she being honest with herself. It wasn’t a matter of the conversation being stilted. Caleb and Lachlan had spent a good part of dinner—the small part when Lachlan wasn’t watching Marisol like he wanted to drag her to one of Caleb’s guest bedrooms and test out the springiness of the mattress, that is—talking about veterinary medicine. Caleb had apparently picked up a fair amount of knowledge from one of his younger brothers, who was a vet in upstate New York. And Zach and Cadie had been their usual social selves. Only Marisol had been quiet, admitting she was sad about her time with her brother and his family coming to an end.
Garnet wasn’t sure how she wanted her own night to end. She could go for a little more distraction of the kissing variety. Their porch kiss had stolen her ability to think for a good hour. Her leg muscles were reminding her she’d had a long day—an early morning patrol shift on avalanche control, and the rescue in the afternoon. But her lips were still in good shape.
Lachlan left first after dinner, and Garnet was up to her wrists in sudsy water, working on a stubborn crusty bit on the roasting pan, when Zach plucked a tea towel off the handle of the oven. “I can dry.”
“Caleb said to let ’em air dry.”
“I’ll just grab our plate, then.” He wiggled a white serving plate out of the half-full sink of clean dishes and polished off the drips. “We’re going to take off. I’m covering a shift in the morning, and Cadie’s driving Marisol to the airport. Need a ride home?”
“I drove here,” Garnet said.
“I know.”
“I’ve only had a glass of wine. I’m fine.”
Zach tightened his lips. “It’s not that. I wasn’t sure...”
She bristled at his hesitance. “Am I okay to be here alone, you mean.”
He shrugged.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Caleb’s a great guy.” He sighed, glancing over his shoulder in what looked like a check to make sure the other three remaining members of the party were out of earshot across the open space. “But he’s still dealing with the aftermath of the avalanche. And dating someone who’s processing trauma can get complicated. Finding a place of balance with Cadie—for both my reasons and hers—was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. And no offense, but you don’t seem to be much for sticking in relationships.”
She narrowed her eyes. “No offense? How could I take that any other way?” The knee-jerk defensiveness speeding up her heart rate rang clear in her tone.
Zach hadn’t known her in high school, didn’t know about the flaky label she’d earned due to her chameleon changes of heart. She’d earned that label. But Zach’s wariness chafed at five years spent proving she was no longer the girl with quicksilver habits.
He dropped his head and shook it. “I just don’t want either of you to get hurt.”
Like she wasn’t aware of that? Grrr. “No need to go all condescending boss on me.”
He winced. “Sorry. Look, I love the guy like a brother, and you’re one of my favorite people, no exaggeration, but I’m not sure you fit together.”
“All right, Fairy Godmother. I’ll take that under advisement.”
He sent a beleaguered glance at the angled ceiling.
“I’ll see you at work, Zach,” she said, pointedly dismissing him.
He squeezed her shoulder and opened his mouth, but paused, long enough that she figured his “See ya” didn’t encompass all his thoughts.
His footsteps faded across the room, followed by the goodbyes being shouted from the front hall. She called out a farewell and tried to get excited about being alone in the house with Caleb, but couldn’t shake Zach’s criticism. I’m not sure you fit together.
Son of a... She balled the dishcloth and threw it into the sink. Water splashed against the stainless steel sides.
Socked footsteps sounded on the hardwood, a different gait than Zach’s.
Two strong arms bracketed her, hands planting on the edge of the sink. A thrill ran up her spine. Having Caleb’s hard body at her back, him touching her for the first time since they came in off the front porch, made her skin tingle. Good job picking the thin sweater dress instead of something bulkier. With only a layer of knit and his dress shirt between them, the relief of his chest muscles was obvious against her shoulders.
“You’re working too hard,” he said, nuzzling her ear. The arm of his glasses creaked, sandwiched between their faces.
She stayed focused on the dishes. The warmth of him and his cologne curling into her senses and the chill-out music on the built-in speakers made it difficult. “I can’t relax until the kitchen is clean.”
He nipped her earlobe. “Sure about that?”
Knees jellying, she closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder while he kissed a path along the boatneck opening of her dress. “I grew up with parents who insisted on a full breakfast and doing the dishes before we opened presents on Christmas morning. I can withstand anything.”
Sliding his hands from the counter to her hips, he tugged her flush against his front—oh, Lordy, his chest wasn’t the only hard thing about him. His tongue traced a hot path along her collarbone. Stubble tickled her shoulder. Gentle, sensuous movements that sparked along her skin and stoked the embers at her core into flame.
“Anything?” he asked.
She’d thought so. But his hand, palm lying flat on its journey up her belly to her ribcage, was making a fool of her assertions.
“Caleb,” she said on a breath. It came out a whimper instead of her intended warning.
“I knew this would be more fun without ski clothes on.”
“This would be more fun without any clothes on,” she blurted. Heat rushed into her cheeks.
“Good thing everyone else left.” He chuckled against her ear. “You in a rush?”
As a matter of fact, yes. Her skin clamored for his touch. It had been too long since she’d had a guy’s hands on her.
She stripped off the dish gloves and spun in his embrace, leaning back against the counter and holding him to her like he’d done. She rose on her toes, trying to better nestle her front against his hips—
Oh, fine. She was trying to grind against him.
Classy, James. Super classy.
His fingers dug into her hips and his eyes shuttered halfway. “Garnet...”
So maybe he didn’t mind so much.
“What—” Settling a hand at her waist, he cupped the back of her head with the other. He cuddled her close and buried his face in her hair. “What are we doing here, Sharky?”
Damn. What were they doing?
“Aside from trying to climb each other like trees?” she croaked.
His laugh vibrated through her body. “Yeah.”
“I—I’m honestly not sure.”
“Nor I.” His breath tickled her ear, and her uncertainty made her knees shake. His arms tightened around her, and she let him take her weight.
“I think we need to talk,” she said.
“Uh-oh.”
“No, no. Not in a bad way. But if we’re going to go forward, it should be with intent. Reasoned intent, not just the get-in-your-pants kind.”
He exhaled noisily and released her, rocking back on his heels. “Okay. More wine, then?”
“Definitely.”
They settled on the gray tweed sectional in his living room. He angled slightly toward her, stretching an arm along the low back of the couch. The stem of a glass of Australian Syrah balanced between two of his fingers.
Curling next to him, she drew up her knees and clenched her own wineglass in both hands.
“Before we get into the nitty gritty, I want you to know—” The corner of his mouth tugged up. “You make me smile. I’ve missed smiling.”
Her heart caught in her chest. Her wineglass slipped in her grip.
He rescued it before she managed to slop any of the deep red liquid onto the wide cushions. “Easy there, butterfingers.”
“Sorry, but Caleb—that’s a hell of a starting point.” She resettled her hand around the bulb of the glass and took a long drink.
He brushed a finger down her cheek. “You thinking of driving home tonight? Or no?”
“I probably shouldn’t stay. Not tonight.”
He nodded slowly, flattening his lips before he adopted a placid expression. “Of course.”
“I don’t have to rush home, though. And this is pretty delicious wine. I could take a taxi.”
Genuine pleasure deepened the grooves at the corners of his eyes. Gah, why did men in their thirties have to look so good with crow’s feet? Freaking unfair. At least, she thought he was in his thirties. Possible he was older than he looked, though, given how far he’d climbed the surgery ladder in Colorado.
She didn’t care much about age, but she was curious. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-eight.”
She caught her smile before it faltered. She might not be fazed by a ten-year age difference, but was he? “You’ve got a decade on me.”
“Mostly spent slogging in the OR.” The open neck of her sweater had gaped to the side, and he traced a lazy circle with the back of a finger.
A spritz of shivers danced along her flesh. “All work and no play?”
He shook his head. “If I wasn’t in the hospital, I was out in the backcountry. And I had a long-term girlfriend.”
“Both things that changed.” Damn it. Filter, Garnet, filter.
If her nosiness bothered him, it didn’t show. His gaze stayed on her, steady and deep brown. “The avalanche taught me to slow down. And my girlfriend at the time didn’t much like that. We didn’t have enough in common anymore.”
“Do we have the same problem?”
He stared into his wineglass. “Probably.”
Fear bolted from her gut to her throat. She chewed on the inside of her lip. “Okay, then. Maybe I should head home, after all.”
His chin jerked up and he pinned her with a worried expression. “No. Just because we don’t have everything in common doesn’t invalidate what we do have.”
“Which is...”
“A draw, Garnet. That indefinable thing that makes you want more of a person. You’re a package of mysteries, and something’s pulling me to discover what’s hidden underneath your well of energy and beautiful smile.”
She coughed out the lump of emotion gathering in her throat. “Aren’t you good with words.”
“And other things.” The promise in his unabashed smile made her mouth go a little dry.
She sensed that indefinable thing, too. Didn’t come around often, and wasn’t something to take for granted and ignore. And testing herself, seeing if she could be with someone and not lose herself in the process... She might be ready for that.