Pink Champagne Page 4

  His mouth settled onto sensitive skin that hadn’t been touched by a mouth in years. Derek didn’t do that. She sighed with pleasure as his tongue found the most sensitive part of the slick folds of skin he’d just excited through their clothes. He teased her skin until she was out of her mind with pleasure. Gently taking her pearl between his teeth, he sucked and nibbled at it until she was raw with need for him. Finally, he gave her sweet release once again. As the aftershocks of pleasure rolled through her, Caleb stroked her thighs.

  He sat up. She reached for his zipper, and his hand closed over hers. He moved her hand away from his crotch.

  “Quenby—”

  “We should get ourselves together. Macon’s gonna be back up here soon,” she said. She looked at him, unable to believe he was leaving in just a few hours. It was for the best, though. She had to believe that.

  She yanked up her jeans, got off the bed, and headed for her dresser. Raking her hands through her hair, she pulled it back and grabbed an elastic hair band from the dresser. Then she headed for the bathroom. She needed to splash some ice-cold water over her face.

  When they went out to the living room, Macon was sitting on the sofa. She must’ve come up with Indigo, who was sitting next to her and who knew Quenby’s building code. Quenby didn’t know how long they’d been sitting there, and she didn’t ask.

  “So how was your conversation with Adia?” Quenby asked, locking her hands behind her back so she wouldn’t tap them against her thighs. That was a dead giveaway sign she was hiding something. And both her friends knew it.

  “The same one we’ve been having for months,” Macon said.

  “Yeah.” Quenby wasn’t about to butt into her business and give Macon a good reason to bring up the fact that both she and Caleb had just come out of Quenby’s bedroom.

  Caleb sat in an armchair across from the couch and Quenby sat on the sofa next between Macon and Indigo, glad that she didn’t have to look at Caleb at the moment. She was still trying to figure out how to feel about what’d happened.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but we were just—” Quenby started.

  “Quenby, please.” Macon cut her off. “We’re all adults here. No need to explain. Just do me a favor and stop talking before I get images burned into my brain.”

  “No, no, really.” Quenby shook her head. “Nothing happened. We were just watching…TV”

  “Then why isn’t the TV on?”

  “We turned it off. I wanted to show Caleb something in the bedroom.”

  “I bet you did.”

  “Um.” Wow. She’d walked right into that one.

  “Quenby, can I talk to you for a minute?” Indigo asked. “Out on the balcony?”

  “Sure,” Quenby said slowly. She got up and followed her friend outside.

  #

  Caleb shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of her.”

  “I think she’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions,” Macon said, flipping on the television and staring at the screen. “I wish some people thought the same of me.”

  “Aw, Macon. You know I’m only trying to look out for you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Caleb glanced toward the balcony doors. Indigo was making wild gestures with her hands. Quenby kept shaking her head. “You think they’re talking about me out there?”

  “Probably.”

  “I really do like her.”

  “Your butt is going back to Georgia at four-forty five P.M.,” was all Macon said in response.

  “So you do have a problem with this.”

  “With what? There’s nothing to have a problem with—you live in Georgia, she’s just trying to deal with what happened yesterday, and—and—there’s just nothing to have a problem with.” Macon crossed her arms over her chest.

  “If there were, in theory of course, something for you to have a problem with, would you have a problem with it?”

  “You know, you have such a huge problem with Adia, but what about what happened last spring?”

  “Ouch.”

  “That poor girl thought she was going to marry you.”

  “I thought the same thing. I’m sorry I hurt her, and you know I am. I never meant to lead her on or anything,” he said. “And don’t forget Mama’s part in that one. You know how she is. She practically put the ring on that woman’s finger herself.”

  “I know. I’m sorry to lash out at you like that. But you’ve been asking for it all weekend. And until you get over what happened with Liz…no. I can’t be excited about the idea of you being with one of my best friends. I think it’s a very good thing that we’re going back to Georgia.”

  “You had to bring her up, didn’t you?”

  “You made me.”

  He’d never been more in love with anybody than he’d been with Liz. A former Miss Georgia Peach. Current special ed teacher and someone else’s wife. Perfect, he thought, in every way. Until she’d fallen in love, and eloped, with Macon’s brother. Yep, Caleb’s own cousin had stolen his woman. Caleb had tried to get close to other women after that—he’d almost gotten to the altar with his ex fiancé last spring—but somehow the other relationships always fell apart in the end. Mostly because there was only one Liz.

  No matter how hard he tried to forget her, all he could see, feel, touch, or want was Liz and his memories of her. It didn’t help that he had to see her at every, single, friggin’ family function. Her, his cousin whom he still didn’t speak to, and their now two-year-old son.

  He sighed and turned his gaze to some reality show Macon was watching. He didn’t know what the show was about, and he didn’t care. Maybe Macon was right. It was probably for the best that he was going back to Georgia and away from Quenby. Even if that was the last thing he wanted.

  Chapter 7

  Caleb had class in less than twenty-four hours, but he couldn’t imagine leaving Quenby yet. Even though they were headed to RIC in Quenby’s car, he couldn’t bear the thought of it. He’d managed to meet a woman who blew his mind for the first time since Liz, have an amazing time with her, and lose her all in less than a weekend. Well, he hadn’t lost her yet. Not technically.

  While Quenby and Macon droned on and on in the front, and Indigo contributed to their conversation from where she sat next to Caleb in the back, he stared out of the window at the passing trees as they headed down Staples Mill Road toward the airport. Could he stay? Missing a few classes would be worth it for even a week with Quenby. But what would Quenby say if he asked to stay there with her for a few more days?

  Maybe she’d gotten her rebound fling out of her system already. He hoped not. It hadn’t seemed like that was how she felt to him. But maybe that was just because he wanted it to feel like more to her the way it did to him. There was no way to know for sure. They hadn’t gotten the chance to talk all that much.

  When Quenby pulled up in front of the terminal and popped the trunk, Caleb went to get the bags. He stepped onto the sidewalk and went over to them, carrying only Macon’s luggage.

  “Where’s your stuff, cuz?” Macon asked as he set the bags by her feet.

  “Still in the car.” He took the boarding pass he’d printed out that morning at Quenby’s out of his back pocket. He tapped the folded pieced of paper nervously against his hand.

  “Why’s that?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

  “I can’t leave. Not yet.” He looked at Quenby. Her brown eyes softened like melting chocolate.

  “Why’s that?” Macon asked again. She and Indigo both looked like they really wanted answers—and good ones.

  “Quenby,” he said, talking only to her. “I need a week with you. If you want, I’ll go back to Georgia, but not without you giving me a good reason why I should. I won’t impose myself on you, but I’d really like to stay. A lot.”

  “What about school?” she asked.

  “I imagine Emory will still be there when I get back.”

&nb
sp; “This is crazy.”

  “So live a little.”

  Quenby shifted her gaze between Caleb and her friends, biting her lower lip in a way that made Caleb want to do nothing more than kiss it.

  “I shoulda seen this coming after this morning,” Macon drawled.

  “Okay. If you really want to, and you’re not going to fail out or anything, okay,” Quenby said.

  “Thank you.” Caleb grinned.

  “You two be careful with each other,” Macon said.

  “Don’t worry. We will,” Quenby said, kissing her cheek.

  “You better,” Indigo said, giving Caleb a meaningful look before she and Macon exchanged goodbye kisses and hugs.

  “Your mama’s gonna kill you,” Macon said to Caleb.

  He chuckled. “You let me worry about Mama.”

  “And worry you better.”

  They walked Macon into the terminal before getting back into Quenby’s car and heading away from the airport. After they dropped Indigo off at her apartment, Quenby drove using her left hand, and they rode back to her condo with their hands folded together on Caleb’s lap.

  #

  When they got back to the condo, the happy mood she’d been in since Caleb decided not to get on the plane back to Georgia was killed by a text from Derek popping up on her phone. He’d been calling all morning, but she’d ignored the calls so they hadn’t bothered her. She read the message again with a sigh.

  “What is it?” Caleb asked, keeping his hands to himself as if he sensed the mood was shot.

  “It’s Derek.” She shook her head. “He claims he wants to come over and get his stuff. Says he can use his key, but he’s trying to be adult about this.” She laughed. “He actually said that. Adult.” She texted him back that he could come over tomorrow while she was out. He sent another text almost immediately stating that they needed to be there together to go through everything. She told Caleb all of this before saying, “I really can’t handle seeing his face right now. He can take it all. I don’t care.”

  Caleb said, “How about this? You make a list of everything he should and shouldn’t take, you leave it with me, and you make yourself scarce when he shows up to get his stuff.

  She smiled. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, I thought I was taking this week off for my honeymoon, so technically I don’t have to go in, but it would be nice to get a jump on my end-of-month reports, so, yeah. I think I’ll take you up on that. Thanks.”

  “No problem,” Caleb said.

  She sent Derek a text telling him what time he could come by in the morning to pick up his things. She didn’t mention in the text whether she would be home or not.

  Chapter 8

  Monday morning was cloudy and a little on the cool side, but Quenby was fine with a light, brown sweater thrown on over her blouse as she headed out to work. She’d left Caleb at the house that morning. He’d been curled up on the couch, peacefully sleeping. She’d tried to offer him the guest room, but there was no television in there, and he liked to fall asleep with the T.V. on, as he put it. His Southern accent was so sexy, and so was everything he said using it. She had an unfortunate weakness for so many things about him.

  She said hello to her head teller, Sophie. Sophie had already gotten there and turned off the alarm, and she was counting the cash in her drawer. She smiled and waved to Quenby without slowing her pace as she went about getting ready for her day.

  As soon as the other teller arrived, Sophie locked up her drawer and walked into Quenby’s office. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to have this week off.” Sophie and she had become pretty good friends over the years they’d worked together.

  “I didn’t marry Derek,” Quenby said.

  “I know. Indigo texted me about coming to that freedom party, and I would have, but my sister needed me. Last-minute baby-sitting job.” Sophie rolled her eyes. Sophie had been invited to the reception, but the wedding ceremony had been planned to be small. Close family members and guests of the wedding party only. “But you. Back to you! What actually happened between you and Derek? That part, I do not know.”

  “I left him at the altar.” She grinned. It felt good to say it. She’d finally left him for once. For the first and final time.

  Sophie sat across from her desk, gripping her blue travel mug between her small, brown hands. She leaned forward in the chair, her silky black hair falling around her face. “What?” Sophie stretched the word to three times its normal length. “I need details, now, now, now. Ooh, I’m so glad you got rid of him. I can say that now.”

  Quenby filled her in about the failed wedding and the freedom party. She didn’t leave out anything. She ended her story with Caleb and the kiss they’d shared at the freedom party.

  “Caleb, huh? What does he look like? Is he on Facebook?”

  “I don’t know. Haven’t looked.”

  “You’re kidding me. Look, look. I need pictures.” Sophie gestured wildly in the direction of Quenby’s computer.

  “You know Facebook is blocked on work computers.”

  Sophie set her travel mug on the edge of the desk, and stood up. Leaning over, she tapped Quenby’s bag, which rested on the desk. “Phone.”

  Quenby pulled her smart phone out of her bag, and Sophie huddled behind her so she could see the screen when Quenby pulled up Facebook. After Quenby did so and searched for Caleb, finding the right one without too much trouble thanks to his double last name and the Emory and UGA networks, Sophie grabbed the phone from her.

  “He is melt me, melt me gorgeous.”

  “Tell me about it.” Quenby grew warm thinking about him all over again. The way being wrapped in his arms the day before had felt so warm. Safe. Right.

  “What was he doing here?”

  “He flew up from Georgia with Macon for the wedding.”

  “So have they gone back yet?” Sophie sounded disappointed.

  “Macon did.”

  “He’s still here?”

  Quenby nodded. “At my condo.”

  “Again. I ask you. What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, that is a very long story.” She didn’t feel like getting into the thing with Derek stopping by to pick up his stuff at the moment. “Just tell me it’s stupid. I need to hear that it’s stupid. He’s only going to be here for a week, I don’t want to get tangled up in this—”

  “Don’t want to get tangled up in what? Having a good time?” Sophie asked in that matter-of-fact way she had of getting right to the point. She still had Quenby’s phone, and she was tapping the screen.

  “What are you doing?” Quenby asked.

  “Sending Caleb a friend request. From you.” Sophie handed the phone back to her with a happy smirk. “Because you weren’t gonna do it—”

  “You’re right about that.”

  “And you needed to.”

  “What are you trying to do here?” Quenby looked down at her phone with a sigh.

  “Be responsible for your happiness,” Sophie said. She was a lot shorter than Quenby, but she towered over her as she stood over Quenby’s chair. “Just get some, girl. When was the last time you had some decent sex? And don’t try to tell me it was with that fool you wasted five years of your life on.” Sophie was small only in stature. Her personality was huge.

  Quenby cheeks warmed as she thought of yesterday afternoon. Instead of getting into that, she asked, “Is this really a good idea? Speaking of Derek, I almost got married a couple days ago.”

  “It’s the best idea. Nobody’s asking you to marry this guy.”

  “True.” But the problem was, she was already falling for him. And it couldn’t be smart to have a rebound fling with a guy she was developing feelings for. Right? Could she just tune out her feelings like that? “Don’t you have a teller line to run or something?”

  “I’ll get on it, boss.” She grabbed her coffee mug from the desk and walked out. Sticking her head back in the doorway, she
said, “Think about how much fun this week could be. Don’t let that go to waste. I’ll take him if you’re just going to throw him away.” With that, she walked back to the teller line.

  #

  Quenby smiled as she saw the email notification telling her Caleb had accepted her friend request.

  She idly clicked over to his page, letting a strange little smile curve over her lips. Warmth surged through her as her mind went yet again to yesterday and the ways Caleb had touched her in her bedroom.

  “Quens. What you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”

  She jumped at the sound of Isaac’s voice behind her. Having been lost in thoughts of Caleb, she hadn’t heard him walk into her office.

  “I see we’re working hard in here, huh?” he said. A grin curved over his thin lips.

  She set her phone on the desk and looked up at him. Isaac was a commercial loan officer. He wore too much gel in his hair, and she could imagine him spending hours in front of the mirror in the morning, styling his frosted tips just right. Blond hair, blue eyed, gym-worshipping type.

  “Says you,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be out stalking our poor customers, forcing loans on them, and stealing other people’s commissions?” Quenby shook her head. Two reasons he was there. She didn’t have the power to fire commercial loan officers even though she was the branch manager—that was the regional manager’s purview. Second reason, Isaac was unfortunately good at his job. He’d been born with the schmoozer gene.

  “Oh, Quens. Don’t be bitter.” Isaac sat on the corner of her desk. He leaned over and glanced at her the screen of her phone. “What’s with all the Facebook stuff? You looking for a date or something? I’m free this weekend.” He grabbed her “branch manager of the year” paperweight off of her desk and tossed it up in the air and caught it a few times even though he knew how much that irritated her.