Going All In (10 page)

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Authors: Alannah Lynne,Cassie McCown

BOOK: Going All In
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As she grabbed her ankle boots from the closet floor, the memory of Wade at the club flashed through her mind. The searing heat pouring from his eyes as his hand sliced the middle of her thigh made her even more determined to get her thigh-high boots out of layaway as soon as possible.

“Tell me again why you’re going out with this guy,” Jen said, throwing off a ton of barely contained revulsion, much like she had at the club when Callie introduced them to Wade.

Callie wanted to believe Jen’s reaction was subconscious, that she wasn’t intentionally being snobby, but Callie knew better. Wade was a construction worker, and a couple years ago, Callie shared the same unfounded, erroneous opinion of blue-collar workers. For the first several months after meeting Kevin, she could hardly stand to look at herself in the mirror for the way she’d previously thought and spoken of men and women like her amazing co-workers. She’d eventually learned to forgive herself for her ignorance but doubted Jen would ever come around to sharing Callie’s newfound way of thinking.

Callie sat on the edge of the sofa and zipped her boots. “He’s a nice guy.” She shoved her hair out of her face and made eye contact with Jen. “He’s different than the other men I’ve dated, and I like that.”

She ignored the glance exchanged between Jen and Tiffany and poured herself a glass of wine. Besides the obvious off-the-charts sex appeal, there were so many things about him that attracted her. He wasn’t a huge talker, but his self-confidence and quiet sense of humor carried a punch. She liked the way she felt with him: free-spirited, adventurous, brave.

He made her want to drink the Kool-aid of life, to get out there and live rather than sit back and watch time go by. He was obviously a loyal and true friend, or “his boys,” as he called them, wouldn’t visit every year, and she appreciated that quality more than most.

Her gaze slid across the room to Jen and Tiffany. She’d known them since middle school, like Wade and his friends, so she knew the value of long-term friendships. Jen often made hurtful comments, but Callie doubted she even realized how badly her words cut. And when things blew up with Callie’s dad, Jen stood by her side as a fierce protector every step of the way.

On more than one occasion, like at the country club when Callie came under fire, Jen put her razor-sharp tongue to use, fending off the attacks on Callie’s behalf. When the newspaper started reporting the story, Jen made every newspaper in the neighborhood disappear. Of course, she denied any involvement, but Callie found the pile of papers in the trash, and no one else would’ve had the nerve to steal everyone’s paper to save Callie and her mother further humiliation.

Tiffany took a less aggressive approach, but she’d been no less fearless in her protection. In the immediate aftermath, one of them accompanied Callie whenever she left home, making sure she didn’t have to face the world alone. Some may wonder why she tolerated Jen’s rude and often crass comments, but Callie understood no one was perfect, and sometimes the bad had to be abided along with the good.

“Where did you say you were going?” Tiffany asked, peering over her shoulder.

Callie smiled and took another sip of wine. “I didn’t.”

They hadn’t given her too much grief about hanging out with Wade and his friends at the club, but if they knew she was going to a bonfire… campfire—was there a difference?—at the state park, a place they all agreed was highly overrated, she’d never hear the end of it.

A heavy rumble filled the air, causing Jen and Tiffany to press their cheeks to the glass and crane their necks toward the entrance, seeking a better view. She’d never seen Wade’s personal vehicle, but based on what she knew about him, she was sure he drove a truck. And based on the game of hopscotch her heart was enjoying and the heavy warmth sinking low in her belly, she’d bet the approaching growl, growing louder by the second, was that truck.

“No way,” Tiffany whispered as her eyes grew wide and a smile spread across her face. She whipped her head around to face Callie, burst into laughter, then resumed staring out the window.

Jen was less amused. “No fucking way. Friends do
not
let friends go out with rednecks.” She slammed her margarita glass down onto the windowsill and turned on Callie. “Flirting with a construction worker is bad enough. Going out with a redneck construction worker is going too far.” Her face reddened and she spit and sputtered, unable to find the necessary words to fully express her anger. “Have you lost your damned mind?”

Fighting back a laugh, Tiffany said, “I don’t think we have to worry about her actually going anywhere, Jen. She’ll never get up into that truck.”

Curiosity pushed at Callie’s back, trying to drive her across the living room to the window, but she forced herself to stay seated on the barstool and assumed a casual I-could-care-less-what-you-think attitude.

“I told you guys. I want something different. I’ve gone out with rich guys. I’ve gone out with foreign guys. They’ve all been boring.” She lifted her shoulder and shifted her gaze away from their stares. “I want someone who excites me. Who makes me laugh and challenges me.” She leaned forward on her barstool, beseeching them to understand. “I want someone who quietly encourages me to be brave and try new things. Dammit, I want passion.”

Jen snorted and rolled her eyes. “Did you just say you want passion?”

Yeah, unfortunately, she had. She hadn’t meant to speak that last part out loud, but so what? She’d answered honestly, and she was no longer willing to settle for less.

“Yes, I want passion. I know you think I’m a goody-two-shoes prude, but maybe I’m stuck in that place because I’ve never met someone capable of bringing out another side of me.”

“Oh my,” Tiffany said on a breathy sigh. “I thought he was good-looking the other night, and I kind of understood what drew you to him. But”—she gulped—“he could bring out
another
side
of anyone.”

Unable to stand the suspense any longer, Callie jumped off her barstool and raced to the window.

Wade had just jumped down from the cab of his big—massive—black truck and was in the process of slamming the door shut. He wore cowboy boots, faded jeans, and a red-and-green flannel shirt that hung loose, like a jacket, over a stretched tight, white T-shirt.

Even though she told him she would find something to wear, he brought a couple of extra shirts with him. He slung them over his shoulder, then dug into his pocket for his phone. He glanced at the screen, then at the numbers on the building, then at the doors. As his gaze swung up to the window where they stood and he caught sight of them staring, a broad smile broke across his face.

Without thought or verbal communication, the three of them shrieked and hit the floor with a collective thud.

“Oh my God. This is so embarrassing.” Callie crawled away from the window, stood and brushed herself off with as much dignity as she could muster, then ran for her wine glass.

“Which part is most embarrassing to you?” Jen demanded as she stood and straightened her skirt. “Going out with a redneck? Or being caught staring by said redneck, which would indicate he’s smarter than us?”

Tiffany ran her hand under her eyes and wiped away tears of laughter. “Oh, shut up, Jen. He might be a redneck, but he’s really hot.” She leaned forward on her knees and peeked out the bottom of the glass. “Shit, he’s still down there looking up at us, laughing.”

“No,” Callie said. “He’s looking and laughing at
you
. I’m all the way over here”—she rested her elbow on the counter and leaned into it—“waiting for my date to arrive.”

She barely had time to regain her wits when a knock sounded at the door. She jumped and nearly dumped her drink, proving she hadn’t actually gathered anything yet. She steadied the long-stemmed glass on the counter, wiped her hand on her jeans, and slowly made her way to the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she found Jen on the couch, looking suitably bored, and Tiffany running for the safety of the kitchen.

Barely contained laughter lit Wade’s face when she opened the door. “They didn’t seem to approve at the club. Am I faring any better tonight?”

She scrunched up her face and chewed on the side of her finger. “It’s a split decision.”

“Damn, that’s disappointing. I thought for sure my truck would bring ’em in.” The humor glinting in his brown eyes amplified his sarcasm. With a wink and a tug on her hair, he added, “Good thing I don’t care what
they
think.”

He held her gaze for several beats, and the realization he’d just opened himself up enough to reveal he
did
care what
she
thought sent a wash of heat cascading over her. She drew in a ragged breath and steadied her voice. “I like your truck, but the driver is spectacular.”

Heat infused her face with the admission, and she turned away to lead him into the living room. She’d introduced Wade at the club the other night but hadn’t introduced Tiffany or Jen. “Wade, this is Jen”—she pointed to the couch—“and Tiffany.” She nodded to Tiff as she slunk out of the kitchen, wearing a sheepish smile.

“Ladies, good to see you again.” He might be referring to the night they met at the club, but his mischievous smile led Callie to believe he was teasing them about the window incident.

Tiffany must’ve thought the same thing because she giggled, then ducked back into the kitchen.

“You said you were set on clothes, but I brought some anyway.” He dragged a long-sleeved T-shirt and sweatshirt off his shoulder and held them out to her. “Just in case.”

“Okay,” Jen said with a punch of anger and frustration. “This is ridiculous. We need to know where you’re going.”

Startled by the severity of her tone, Tiffany gasped while Callie froze with shock and anger.

Tiffany recovered first. “Right,” she said in a diplomatic tone, leaning casually against the end of the counter. “We wouldn’t be good, responsible friends if we didn’t make sure she was going somewhere safe.”

“Oh, for the love of God, guys.” Callie threw her hands in the air in frustration. “I work with Wade. He’s good friends with Kevin. Stop with the overly protective parent routine. And stop being nosey.”

He glanced from Callie to Tiffany and Jen, then back Callie. His face was mostly blank, except for the muscle popping in his jaw, but the tension in his shoulders and the white-knuckle grip on the shirts let her know he was feeling a lot of something, and none of it good.

She had her reasons for not wanting to share the details of their date—aside from not wanting to hear crap about their destination—but given the way he slowly and methodically drew in breaths, as if to calm himself, he was angry, or maybe hurt, that she’d kept their date a secret.

After another tense moment, he turned to the girls and said, “We’re going mudding.”

Tiffany’s eyes widened, Jen gasped in horror, and Callie said, “What?”

Despite their reactions and her confusion, Wade continued without missing a beat or cracking a smile. “If we get stuck, she’ll need to get out and push, so I brought some of my clothes for her to wear.” His grin was pure evil. “I have overalls in the truck, too, so she won’t get too muddy.” He picked up her hand. “She doesn’t have any nails, so you don’t have to worry about her breaking one or messing up the manicure. I promise I’ll get her home in one piece.”

Despite the anguish she felt for the unintentional hurt she’d caused him, the shock and revulsion on their faces had her bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

She’d almost regained her composure when Wade shook the shirts at her. “C’mon, tighten up. We gotta get going.”

When she collapsed into a fit of laughter again, he muttered, “Aw, hell,” then picked her up and slung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Which way is the bedroom?”

Tiffany’s gaze slid to the hallway and then, as if realizing she was giving away a great secret, she jerked it back to Wade.

Picking up on the tell, Wade nodded. “Thank ya, ma’am, I appreciate the help.”

*

Wade carried Callie into her bedroom, kicked the door shut behind them, and set her on her feet.

She dabbed at her eyes to clean up the mascara streaking down her cheeks and blew out a deep breath. “If I live to be a hundred and ten, I’ll never forget the looks on their faces. Thank you…” She rested her hands on his chest for balance and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “For making me laugh harder than I ever have before.”

Her hands took a slow glide down his chest to his abs as she rested back on the flats of her feet. The sultry look in her eyes and the slow caress of her tongue across her bottom lip indicated she’d welcome another less-chaste kiss.

And even though his body read the cues and heartily responded, he didn’t feel all that romantic at the moment. “You’re welcome.” He lifted his shoulder in a careless shrug. “They think I’m nothing but a dumb-ass country boy. I figured I might as well live up to the expectation and give them something to really lose their shit about.”

The lusty haze filling her eyes evaporated as he stepped back from her. “You didn’t tell your friends where we’re going.”
Hello, Captain Obvious.
“Did they know I was the one coming to pick you up, or did you think they’d be gone before I got here?” He tried to sound matter-of-fact without allowing his past hurt to harden his tone, but he failed miserably.

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