She opened her eyes and summoned all her courage. “This is sort of a last fling for me.”
His brows drew together in a puzzled frown.
“You remember how small Oroville is, and I just finished graduate school so I’ll be going back home soon and, well…” She groaned, the heat starting to invade her face. What the heck had she been thinking? She couldn’t do it. Not with Rick.
She’d just make the best of her vacation—get some sun, eat and drink too much…watch everyone else having a good time. Darn it!
“I see.”
Carly caught the amusement in his eyes and her cheeks flamed with scorching heat. She thought seriously about making a run for her room. She could stay there for the next six days and order chocolate from room service. Lots of chocolate while she watched television and tried not to think about what a dope she was, and how Rick was probably still laughing his butt off at her ineptness.
She swallowed, forcing herself not to look away. “I don’t think you understand…”
“Am I in the running?”
Her heart started to race. “For what?”
One side of his mouth lifted, and she decided it would be better not to let him answer.
“It’s just a vacation.” She fidgeted with the hem of her sarong. “Like at the end of a school year when you want to party and celebrate, except once I get home I’m going to be a working stiff, and so I—What?” she said at his knowing expression.
“You did know that this resort is a notorious pickup spot for singles.”
“Really?” She was the absolute worst liar. Horrible. Even strangers knew when she was lying. “I had no idea.”
Rick laughed.
“I didn’t. Ginger planned the vacation.” Carly knew her face was a hopeless shade of red. But she lifted her chin and stared him in the eyes.
“Take it easy. I believe you.” He didn’t, of course. That was clear by the way his lips twitched but she could ignore that.
“Well…” She looked around, praying for a distraction, anything that would allow her to escape gracefully. “I really don’t want a drink. You go ahead and join them.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Go for a swim.”
“Sounds good.” He looked out toward the horizon. The water was smooth and crystal clear. “I’ll join you.”
She groaned inwardly. “I’m really more a pool kind of gal. Salt water is bad for my hair and all that.”
He grinned at her feeble excuse. “No problem. The pool is good.”
“But you wanted to have a drink.”
“Not really.”
“Look, Rick, you don’t have to baby-sit me. Ginger is free to go off and—”
Taking her hand, he pulled her close.
She drew back. “What are you doing?”
He slid her arms around his neck, and then lowered his head. Before she knew what hit her, their lips met. His felt so warm and insistent, she didn’t care that they were standing in the middle of the beach with at least a dozen people around them.
He trailed the tip of his tongue across her lower lip and then over the seam, increasing the pressure until she opened to him. He tasted incredibly sweet as if he’d just sucked on a mint. His hands explored her back, followed the outline of her buttocks until he actually cupped her against him. He was already hard, his heat pressing against her belly. She wanted desperately to melt into him.
A catcall brought her to her senses.
She drew back, breathless, reluctant. Horribly embarrassed.
Rick brushed the hair away from her face. “I’ve wanted to do that since I was sixteen.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because, kid…” He touched the tip of her nose. “You were only thirteen.”
“Oh.” She smiled self-consciously. He was right, of course. It didn’t matter that she’d convinced her young heart she loved him. Had he kissed her, she would have run and hidden and not surfaced until he’d left at the end of summer.
“Remember how shy you were when we first met?”
She lowered her arms from around his neck, while half wishing he’d protest. He didn’t. “You were the first boy I really got to know,” she said. “You were totally new territory for me.”
“You had a couple of school friends who hung around at the swimming hole.”
“That didn’t count. I grew up with them. They were just pals.”
“And I wasn’t?” He grinned. “I’ll be damned. You did have a crush on me.”
“You were the older boy from glamorous California. All the girls in town had a crush on you.”
His expression got serious. “What about now?”
Her stomach lurched. “What do you mean?”
He smiled. “Has the attraction faded?”
“Well…no.” She folded her arms across her chest and his gaze immediately went to her breasts. An alarming amount of cleavage showed above the sarong and she casually uncrossed her arms. “This is very weird.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Because we have a past. I know that you hate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and chocolate ice cream. And that you didn’t learn how to ride a bike until you were eleven.”
“Shit, how did you remember all that stuff?”
She peered closer. “You still have a scar.”
His hand went to the side of his chin where she’d accidentally clobbered him with the butt of a fishing pole that first summer. “Yeah, you maimed me for life.”
“Excuse me, but if I remember correctly I was defending myself.”
“Right,” he scoffed. “I think it was the other way around.”
“You were trying to throw me in the lake.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Bull.”
His grin was slow and wicked. “Trust me, I wasn’t trying to throw you in the lake.”
“Then what were you doing?”
“Trying to feel you up.”
That startled a laugh out of her. At thirteen she’d just started to develop breasts. “You lie.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “You asked, I admitted. Deal with it.”
“Gee, just as charming as ever.”
His eyes glittered with humor. “We’re getting off track. Why is having a past a problem?”
She sighed, wishing he hadn’t gone back to that subject.
“It makes things sticky.”
“That’s hardly an explanation.” He drew her towards him again, kissing her briefly. She breathed in the pleasant smell