Читать книгу Sweetheart Lost and Found - Shirley Jump - Страница 11

CALLIE hadn’t laughed this hard in years. She sat back down at the table in O’Malley’s, the bar much more crowded now, clutching her stomach. “Do you really think you had to go that far?”

Jared grinned. His blue eyes captured hers and Callie’s pulse quickened. “Absolutely. What’s a good Madonna performance without adding in the high-pitched ‘oops’ at the end?”

“For one, I don’t think that’s what she says and for another, the whole gyrating thing was more than enough.” Callie shook her head, chuckling. “You have to be the worst karaoke singer in the universe. And contrary to what you told me, you have not improved since the high school talent show.”

“Which is why I have you.” He waved a hand in her direction, then at himself. “Baby, you make me look good. You are the Cher to my Sonny.”

Callie groaned. “Jared, even your karaoke jokes are bad.”

He laughed, then flipped open the menu and slid it her way. “Time for some appetizers. We need fortification if we’re going to do the Ike and Tina Turner catalog later.”

Callie looked away. Twice, Jared had gone and made references to them as a couple. She hadn’t seen the man in nine years and now, wham, it seemed as if they were picking up like a knitter who’d started again on a forgotten afghan.

But wasn’t that what her body wanted to do? Heck, every part of her was reacting as if not a moment had passed between the last time she’d seen him and now. Every time he looked at her, every time he smiled, the room seemed to disappear.

And when they’d been on stage, singing together—even though he’d had all the talent of a second-grader in Carnegie Hall—a connection had extended between them, the thread tightening whenever Jared’s smile winged Callie’s way.

Callie’s gaze roamed O’Malley’s. The now-busy bartender sent her a friendly thumbs-up, apparently approving of her stage performance, too. Callie waved back, trying to look anywhere but at the man across from her. Maybe if she directed her attention away from Jared, she wouldn’t feel so attracted to him.

Behind them, a young man with a blond Mohawk and a goatee had taken the stage, holding the mike in both hands with a white-knuckled death grip. He stuttered through the first few lines of a Police song, then gave up, to the razzing of a group of drinking buddies in the back corner.

“Poor guy. Probably gearing up for the American Idol tryouts, too.” Jared shook his head. “Everyone thinks they’re a singer.”

Callie returned her gaze to Jared. “Et tú Brute?”

He laughed. “At least I admit I stink. I’m really only here for moral support for you and for the nachos.” He signaled to one of two waiters who were busy juggling the room’s tables. “Do you want to order some?” he asked her.

“Nachos are always good, of course.” Had he read her mind again? She sat back against her chair, watching as Jared ordered the cheesy chips and some colas for them, impressed for a second time at how much he remembered about her. Nearly a decade had passed since they’d been together and yet, he’d recalled a lot of details. Her favorite drink. Her favorite snack. Her favorite hobby.

When the waiter left, Callie leaned forward. “Okay, what gives? I know you’re not some kind of savant, so tell me why you’re all over my favorite things. What do you want from me?”

Jared’s gaze didn’t divert from hers. “Nothing. Just an evening getting to know you again. Catching up on old times.”

“Then how come you remembered everything I love?”

“Is it that hard to think you might have been a memorable person in my life, Callie?”

Silence extended between them, taut, filled with heat, with expectation. He hadn’t forgotten her? He’d remembered all those details?

She grabbed the menu again, pretending to study it, which was a lot easier than trying to figure out this odd tension between her and Jared. “I wonder what they have for desserts here.”

He tipped the laminated edge downward. “Are you changing the subject?”

“Of course not.”

“Then tell me. Have you ever thought about us? About that night? About what might have happened if we—”

“Jared, that’s in the past—”

“I meant if we’d gone on tour, of course,” he said, his voice shifting into a tease, and Callie wondered if she’d read him wrong, and he didn’t mean a relationship “them” at all. Jared reached out and took one of her hands and pulled her out of her chair.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you remember that night, Callie?”

Of course she did. She’d never forgotten that Halloween, that one night in college when she and Jared had stepped over the line from friends and become lovers. One night.

One completely unforgettable night.

Sometimes she wondered what might have happened, had they ended up together, but then her better sense got a hold of her and reminded Callie that happy endings, tied up with a nice neat true love bow, weren’t always realistic.

“We sang ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside,’ and we were terrible,” she said, focusing instead on the funny memory of their mangled duet, but then feeling her cheeks heating when she remembered the innuendo in the song, the heat singing it had brewed between them that night. “We were drinking margaritas and probably not thinking entirely straight. I don’t know why we even got up on the stage at that college contest.”

“We were having fun. A lot of fun.”

They had laughed. Laughed so hard, she’d tumbled into his arms outside the bar, seeing Jared in an entirely different light. It had been as if he’d put on that leather jacket, picked up that microphone and become someone else. For the first time, she’d seen him as not a friend, but a man, a very desirable man. When they’d touched, an electricity had erupted between them, bursting into a kiss, a kiss that became more, became everything.

Became an absolutely wonderful, incredible night. Never in her life had Callie ever felt as loved as she had with Jared. He’d made love to her with incredible care, taking his time to treasure her, cherish her.

Love her.

It had been as if he’d memorized her body, knew the sentences of her soul and could finish them with every touch. She’d found herself wondering how she could have missed seeing this side of him, missed this man, and for a moment, considered a future between her and Jared.

But then, in the morning, he’d pulled her into his arms and started talking about where he wanted to go after college. About his plans to buy a house, get married, settle down. Create a forever future.

It had all sounded so fast, nearly chokehold fast, and Callie had panicked and run straight to Tony—the one man who turned out not to be so good at forever.

“Callie?” Jared said, drawing her back to the present. “Are you ready to reprise our greatest hits?”

“Of course.” Keep it to music only. Even if the rest of her remembered the details of that night and conveniently kept forgetting the morning after.

“If we’re going to do this, then this time,” he said, weaving their way past the tables and back toward the small stage at the back of the bar, “I think we need to choose a couple that ended happily. Think Faith Hill and Tim McGraw.”

“If you’re planning on singing, I think we’d be better off with a couple where one of them is a mime,” she said, pressing a finger to Jared’s lips, knowing this was a crazy idea even as she stepped back onto the stage with him.

Ten songs later, Jared accepted that he would never have a career in music. “There goes my dream of being on the radio. Even O’Malley threatened to buy earplugs on that last one.”

Callie laughed and slipped into place beside him as they left the bar. “You clearly have a masochistic urge to embarrass yourself in public.”

“It’s not so bad as long as I’m in front of total strangers I’ll never see again, and as long as you’re beside me.”

She laughed. “Still playing it safe, huh, Jared?”

“That’s me. Safe to a T.” He grinned.

“Well, I think you accomplished the total humiliation goal tonight. But you really should have drawn the line at that last pop song.”

“That one was purely for your amusement.” He caught her eye. “And were you? Amused?”

“Very.” The lights above twinkled in her eyes, like stars dancing.

Jared moved closer, unable to maintain his distance another second. All night, she’d enticed him, drawing him closer with every breath, every note. He kept telling himself it was all because he’d missed her, but even Jared knew it was about much, much more. He knew better…and yet, he kept doing the exact opposite of what was smart. “You, on the other hand, were incredible. You can really sing. Why didn’t you ever pursue that professionally?”

Callie shrugged, noncommittally. “I don’t know. Not my thing, I guess.”

“Not your thing? Callie, you are amazing. Seriously. Maybe you should add singing to the wedding business that you’re doing.”

“Oh, no. The other women don’t know I sing at all.” She blushed and turned away. “No one knows.”

For some reason, it thrilled Jared that he knew. That she’d shared this with him, and no one else. “So you’re a closet karaoke-er?”

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

He reached up and cupped her jaw, finally touching the face he’d been dying to feel all night. Her skin was satin against his palm, her delicate features cast by the soft evening light. He moved closer, closing the gap between them, the night providing its soft, quiet blanket of intimacy. “Seems a shame,” Jared said. “To have a gift and keep it wrapped up so tight.”

“Jared, it’s complicated.”

“If I remember right, everything with you was complicated.”

She lifted her chin, so close he could kiss her with nothing more than a whisper of effort. He shouldn’t. He needed to maintain his distance. His professionalism, the research. That’s what he told himself he’d come here for, not a relationship with the woman who had always been the complete opposite of him, who’d broken his heart, left the shards in her wake when she’d run off with his best friend.

But she was smiling and he kept having trouble remembering any of that.

“If I remember right,” Callie said, “that was part of what you liked about me…and part of what drove you crazy.”

“That wasn’t all that drove me crazy,” he murmured.

A heartbeat passed between them. Another, and all Jared could see, hear, think about, was the movement of her crimson lips, the sound of her breath. Her mouth opened again, lips parted ever so slightly, like an invitation.

And Jared dipped down, so close his lips could almost brush against hers. Desire drummed hard in his veins.

Then common sense sent an icy shower of reality across his senses and Jared drew back, his gaze lingering on hers for one long moment before he released her. “Now that we’re all grown up, it seems you’re not the only one who can make things complicated.”