When she didn’t respond, the buzz of the huge fan filled the air, and Matt shot her a look. “She’s a recovering drug addict.”
No wonder. The news explained the edge she sensed churning just beneath the surface of one Mr. Matt Paulson.
“That must be hard on your brother,” she said.
Matt turned and faced the fan, closing his eyes and letting the mist hit his face. “He’s a recovering addict, too.”
She lingered on his profile as the words and everything he hadn’t said settled deep. So much tension. So much emotion. She couldn’t read the thoughts in his expression but they were present in the taut shoulders, the flat line of his mouth. His short, sandy hair grew damp and curled at the edges, just above his ears. His bangs, thicker than the rest of his hair, developed a wave as water accumulated. The drops left a sheen to his skin, his throat and those lovely, lovely arms.
Matt definitely had the sexy shtick down pat. A wet Matt? Even more so.
“Sad that Penny’s parents won’t forgive her,” she said.
“They have their reasons.” Matt didn’t open his eyes, just continued to enjoy the cooling mist. Or pretended, anyway. “She put them through a lot. Lying. Stealing. Disappearing for weeks on end until they weren’t sure if she was alive or dead from an overdose. I’m sure they just couldn’t take it anymore. They’re just trying to protect themselves.”
Had Matt tried to protect himself?
“But still...” she said. She knew what it was like to screw up. Not in as grand a fashion as a drug addiction. Her screwup was tiny in comparison. But she knew how it felt to work hard to overcome your mistakes, only to have nobody let you forget.
“Now she’s clean,” she said.
“She’s been clean before.”
Callie let out a scoff. “‘My good opinion once lost is lost forever.’”
He opened his eyes, and that brown gaze landed on hers, sending a self-conscious flush up her face. She could read the question and surprise in his expression. She hadn’t meant to wear her own struggles quite so clearly, or to sound quite so personally invested.
She shrugged, trying to ease her discomfort. “Just a quote from Mr. Darcy, from Pride and Prejudice.” When he didn’t comment, she went on, “My favorite book.”
On her thirteenth birthday her mother had taken her to the library and she’d checked out the paperback. She’d spent the next two days glued to the book, her mother practically dragging her from her room to come eat dinner. Growing up poor meant Callie could relate to the Bennet sisters. She’d admired Lizzy’s courage and her determination to marry for love only, despite the very real risk of poverty, causing Callie’s transformation from a total tomboy into a romantic. The book had had such an impact, she’d spent the weeks after imaging Lizzy and Darcy’s wedding, and she’d developed a passion for bridal magazines and picturing the perfect ceremony.
Starting Fantasy Weddings had been a natural extension of that passion.
“I’ve never read Pride and Prejudice,” Matt said.
“I’m not surprised.”
A lull in the conversation followed, and she wanted to ask about Matt’s experiences with his brother, to learn the details about the current state of the relationship between the two. However, Callie sensed asking anything more would go over like a hot toddy during a heat wave.
“How did Tommy and Penny meet?” she asked.
“As total geekster gamers and pros at your ex’s zombie apocalypse game, they were selected as beta testers for Dungeons of Zhorg. That was how they met online. And then they discovered they’d fought the same addiction, and eventually fell in love. I think—” He pursed his lips. “I think the game helped keep them from slipping. Gave them something to focus on.”
Which would explain Matt’s willingness to take on this crazy task.
“I have to admit,” she said softly, “I’m a sucker for a romantic story.” And this one really struck a chord. Two people who’d lost themselves in a dark world and managed to pull out with the help of each other and a video game. Slaying dragons online as they fought their personal demons.
Callie smiled at the ridiculously fanciful thought. But no wonder Colin agreed to the weekend wedding/festival named after his latest game.
When Matt didn’t comment, Callie went on, “Who’s going to give Penny away?”
“She asked me, but I told her to get one of her Dungeon of Zhorg buddies. I can’t do it because I’m Tommy’s best man.”
She let out an amused huff. “It’s not like this is a traditional wedding. No reason why you can’t be both.”
“I’m not her family.”
“You will be.”
Two seconds ticked by before he hiked a brow. Mist had accumulated on his neck and trickled down to gather in the hollow at his throat. She had the sudden urge to lick the spot, and heat shot up her limbs and settled between her legs.
Shoot. Admiring the man was one thing. Wanting to treat him like her favorite brand of ice-cream cone was another.
And while he looked slightly put out by her pushing, the light in his eyes held a hint of amusement. “Does the family counseling come with the cost of your services or will that be extra?”
Callie grinned. “Just the cost of a trip to the ice-cream truck.”
If she couldn’t lick the real thing, she could at least enjoy the substitute. The lopsided smile he sent her did nothing to quell her appreciation of his form.
“So I’m buying?” he asked.
“You’re buying.”
* * *
In the end Callie chose a lemon-lime Popsicle, while Matt went with his favorite, chocolate. Cooler now that they were damp from head to toe, they wandered beneath the oaks back to Callie’s car, in no particular hurry. Not only because of the relief they’d accomplished the most pressing task, selecting a site for the DoZ weekend. But also because Matt felt no sense of urgency to leave.
Especially when Callie looked as if she’d just entered a wet T-shirt contest. It had been a while since his college buddies had dragged him to such an event during his relatively carefree undergraduate days. At the time he’d thought the rigors of academics and obtaining the grades for medical school had been stressful.
But then his parents had died, leaving him solely responsible for Tommy.
And the sight of Callie’s lovely chest beneath the wet garments did more than just bring back great memories of happier times, it also turned him the hell on.
Not exactly conducive to his get-in and get-out goals.
Her damp shirt clung to her skin, and he could make out the lace of the bra beneath. White, if he wasn’t mistaken. And if he tried hard enough, he could imagine the darker circle of skin beneath the center of each breast. He could definitely make out the rounder buds.
“I told you they weren’t as big as the slutty Scarlett O’Hara dress suggested.”
Busted.
The relaxed look on her face eased the tension in his shoulders. Though she certainly had good reason, she didn’t appear overly annoyed by his tendency to check out her form. In fact, she seemed more...amused. As though he was just a stupid kid who couldn’t help himself.
Which wasn’t too far from the truth, aside from the kid part. The stupid description fit just fine.
“I promise,” he said. “I’m not a total pervert.”
“Does