Page 57
They ignored the calls from other games and meandered down the pier.
Wes stopped in front of the Ferris wheel. Its neon lights blinked against the dark night.
“It’s taller than I realized.” She watched it slowly turn. “I wonder how long it takes?”
“Do you have somewhere else to be? Oh wait,” he teased, checking his watch. “I can bring you back to the hotel for bedtime?”
“I’m not the least bit tired. Let’s go.”
As the wheel made a full rotation, the line moved quickly. Or maybe it was the company that made time fly. When they finally boarded their cart, Wes sat across from Oink and rested an arm around her back. She snuggled in, no longer pretending she should keep space between them.
The wheel stuttered forward. She shut her eyes as the cart rocked and inhaled his masculine scent. It mixed with the salty breeze toying with her hair, and when she opened her eyes to the bright, blinking lights, Bailey felt like they were flying.
They started and stopped and started again, slowly climbing higher into the inky night. The boardwalk lights drowned out the stars, but the moon reflected on the rolling ocean waves. Bailey closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. For just a second.
Just long enough for her to take a deep breath and hold it until she was sure this was real life, that she was awake and alive and not dreaming. “This is one of the best nights I’ve had in…”
“Same.”
She couldn’t believe it, yet the way he said it, the rough texture of his low voice almost whispering, made her believe it.
They reached the top. Everything was so small beneath them. The wind whistled. Her heart hammered. She didn’t dare lift her head from his shoulder, afraid of what might happen if she did. Scared of what could happen—or the way her heart might break if it didn’t.
His chin rested on top of her head.
She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to drown in the cascade of warmth rolling over her like a tidal wave. Then the Ferris wheel moved again.
He moved his chin, but not his arm. They crept toward the ground again, circling closer and closer until they reached the exit.
Wes held her close as the attendant unlatched their cart. Then she and Wes, with Oink in his arms, descended the metal walkway into the noise of arcade games and people.
For the fiftieth time, she imagined if this had been a date, it would have been the best one of her life. Instead, she had to ignore the feelings bubbling up, head back to the hotel, then back to Virginia, where they would return to colleagues and ignore this…this…chemistry.
She stepped left. Wes turned right.
“You ready for the night to end?” he asked.
Not in a million years. She moved to his side because she didn’t trust her voice.
“Good.” Wes led them to the end of the pier. He set Oink on a bench. Bailey turned into the wind, leaned against the railing, and stared into the black water splashing against the pilings. The constant stream blew off the water, carrying the moisture, the salt, messing her hair into tiny tangles and slipping over her bare shoulders.
She shivered. He stepped behind her, pressing his sinful body against her soft one. The wind whipped. Her skirt tangled against his legs, and his breath teased the side of her neck. He didn’t kiss her. Didn’t taste her. Every part of her wanted to lean against him, stealing the kisses he hadn’t given her. “Thank you for a great night, Wes.”
Benign, ineffective words that didn’t convey the swirl of emotion and trembling excitement that rocked her. She missed this feeling, this flying high, mentally pleading for a touch. It had been far too long—and nothing could come of it, because chemistry didn’t matter when it came to responsibilities.
Wes turned her around without giving her an inch. Bailey’s back pressed against the rail. God, chemistry didn’t matter. She was scared. Terrified. She’d fallen for this man when nothing but a broken heart awaited her. Not because he would intentionally ever hurt her. But because she wouldn’t be able to let go when it was time for him to leave. She didn’t know how to do casual and no-strings. Bailey couldn’t fathom anything feeling better than the anticipation of this very second, and if he kissed her, she’d fall apart.
He traced her jaw to her chin and, with a delicate push, tipped her face up. Fireworks exploded in cadence with her heartbeat. Lust flushed through her, hot and wicked, as he stared into her soul. “Wes, we…”
They couldn’t. They shouldn’t. They could walk away. He was going to wreck her in ways she couldn’t possibly fathom. He hadn’t even kissed her, and she couldn’t catch her breath.
His fingertips fluttered against the pulse in her neck. “The number of times I’ve thought about kissing you in the last hour alone would make you run away.”
“I doubt that.” The wind carried her whisper away.
“Are you sure?”
She was certain about nothing, and as if she couldn’t stop herself, Bailey lifted her arms to his neck, letting the embrace dangle against him as if she were trying on the possibilities for size.
