Kate Hoffmann - The Right Bed? - Your Bed or Mine?

“I will,” Caley said softly.

Jake straightened, sliding back behind the wheel. “We should probably get going.”

When they reached the small bridal shop in the village, Jake parked, then hopped out and circled around the front to open her door. The Burton boys had always had impeccable manners.

“Watch out,” he said, as he grabbed her waist. “It’s slippery beneath this snow.” His hands lingered on her hips as his gaze fell to her mouth.

They stood there for a long moment, frozen in place, their breath clouding between them. Then Caley pushed up on her toes and touched her lips to his. “I’m not playing games with you,” she whispered. “I just felt like kissing you again.”

“I know how that feels,” he replied. His arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her body against his. Jake brought his hands up to her face and gently cupped her cheeks as he returned the kiss. But the sound of laughter brought an end to their momentary pleasure. Caley turned to watch two teenage girls in the midst of a snowball fight.

“It’s no one,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

“If we do this, we can’t let anyone know,” she said.

“I never kiss and tell,” he said.

“I’m serious. It has to stay just between us. And it has to be just sex. Nothing more.”

“Friends with benefits?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’ll be right back,” she said, glancing over at the bridal shop.

“I’ll come in and wait,” he said.

“Is that wise?” she asked.

“I’m not going to seduce you in a public place,” he said. “And I don’t think Miss Belle is going to go running to our parents to tell on us.”

He followed her to the door, then pulled it open for her, placing his hand on the small of her back as she stepped inside. It was a simple gesture, but Caley realized that Jake was taking any opportunity offered to touch her.

The owner of the shop, Miss Belle, greeted them both, then drew Caley along to the fitting rooms in the back. She stopped and turned to Jake, motioning to him. “Are you coming, too?”

“Oh, no,” Caley said. “He’s not my—well, he’s just a—I don’t think he’d be interested.”

“I’ll come,” Jake said, sending Caley a playful grin. “I’m very interested.”

Caley took the dress into the fitting room and slipped out of her clothes. Though the dress didn’t look like much on the hanger, when she put it on it was another story. The silky fabric clung to every curve of her body; the modest neckline plunged to a deep V in the back; the long sleeves fitted to her arms. She slipped out of her bra and then turned to examine the rear view. Emma had gotten the sizing perfect and had chosen a dress that would look stunning for an evening wedding.

Caley pulled open the fitting room door and stepped out. Jake had been sitting on a bench and the moment he saw her, he quickly stood, a tiny gasp slipping from his lips.

“Wow,” he murmured. “That’s some dress.”

Caley smoothed her hands over her hips as she turned. “It is nice, isn’t it?”

“Are you wearing underwear?”

She gave him a stern look. “It’s too clingy.”

“So, you’re not going to wear underwear. Where the hell am I supposed to put my hands when we dance?” he asked. “This is going to be a problem.”

“Are we going to dance?”

“You’re the maid of honor and I’m the best man. I think it’s a rule than we take at least one turn around the floor.”

Miss Belle hurried up and studied Caley critically. “We’ll bring the sleeves up a bit. I’d assume you plan to go … without?” She pointed to Caley’s chest.

“Do I have a choice?” Caley asked.

“Well, we have the stick-ons.”

“Can we see some of those?” Jake asked, a worried expression on his face.

Caley shook her head. “This will be fine.”

Miss Belle held out a shoebox. “Try the shoes so I can check the hem.”

Caley grabbed a shoe from the box and tried to put it on, but couldn’t keep her balance in the long dress. Jake slipped his hands around her waist and steadied her as she put on the dyed-to-match pumps.

“Perfect,” the shopkeeper said. “I’ll be right back.” Miss Belle hurried off to answer the phone, leaving Jake and Caley alone at the rear of the shop.

“Perfect,” Jake repeated.

“Stop saying things like that to me,” she murmured. “Sometimes I feel like you’re playing with me.”

He shook his head. “It’s how we are, Caley. It’s how we’ve always been.”

She turned and walked back to the fitting room, and Jake followed close on her heels. When she stepped inside, Caley tried to close the door behind her, but Jake slipped inside, then leaned back against the door.

“In all the time that I’ve known you, have I ever lied to you?” Jake asked.

Caley stared at her fingernails. Until that night of her eighteenth birthday, Jake had been the one person she knew she could count on for unadulterated honesty. “I don’t think so.”

“Who told you to take the toilet paper out of your bra the night of the Fourth of July dance at the park? Who told you you looked like a giraffe when you started wearing those platform shoes? Who told you not to go out with Jeff Winslow because all he wanted to do was feel you up?”

“You did,” Caley said. “But I went out with Jeff Winslow anyway. Of course, he did try to feel me up.”

“See?”

“Just because you never lie to me doesn’t mean that you don’t have the capacity to hurt me.”

He took a step toward her, then reached out and touched her cheek. “Does that hurt?”

Caley drew a shaky breath. It felt so good to have him touch her, his fingertips leaving a warm imprint on her skin. She shook her head. This time she wouldn’t make it so easy for him. This time she’d resist him.

Jake took another step closer and kissed her softly on the forehead. “How about that? Tell me it feels good.”

She swallowed hard, then sighed deeply as he kissed her temple. Did she have the strength? And was it wise to try and resist? It really didn’t seem worth the effort. “Yes,” she said. “It feels good.”

He hooked his finger beneath her chin and tipped her gaze up to meet his. And then he kissed her, his tongue teasing at her lips before gently invading her mouth. But it wasn’t like the kiss in the truck. This kiss was slow and sensuous, meant to melt all her resolve. Caley wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered, enjoying the rush of heat that coursed through her body.

His hands slid down her waist to her hips, then circled to smooth over her back, left bare by the cut of the dress. Caley’s mind whirled as she tried to remember every detail of the kiss, forcing herself not to slip into some hazy state of desire. But in the end, it was impossible to maintain her composure. Jake seemed determined to prove that he was quite possibly the best kisser in the entire world.

When his hand moved to her breast, she moaned softly. He grazed his thumb across her nipple, bringing it to a hard peak, sending a wild wave of pleasure coursing through her. When he finally drew back, Caley was dizzy with excitement. Her breath was coming in quick gasps and her pulse was pounding in her head.

“If that ever stops feeling good, you just let me know and I’ll stop,” Jake whispered. He kissed the tip of her nose, then walked out of the fitting room, closing the door behind him.

Caley stumbled back until she leaned against the mirrored wall for support. Her trembling fingers touched her lips and she felt a smile growing there. After all these years, it was hard to believe that all her fantasies about Jake might just come true.

There was something powerful pulsing between them and it didn’t look like either one of them had the capacity—or the will—to stop it. And that made it all the more exciting—and dangerous.