Playing it Kale (The McCain Saga Book 4) (9 page)

Kale rolls, propping himself up on his
elbow.
 
His face is close, close enough I
can feel his breath on my chest.
 
“I told
you, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.
 
Being with you these past few days?
 
It’s just been…a breath of fresh air.”

And maybe he would have kissed me, but
right then, Jamie calls from the deck.
 
“Lunch is ready!”

Calvin arrives soon after we finish
lunch.
 
He’s an all business man that is
way too good looking for his own humility.
 
I can’t believe he doesn’t model himself.
 
Who knows, maybe he did, once upon a
time.
 
But he sits at the table with Kale
and I.
 
I hand over my phone, and one by
one, we all listen to the messages on my phone from agents, management
companies, and record labels.
 

I haven’t checked my phone since this
morning, so
there’s
a whole new slew of them.

And as we list every one of them on
Calvin’s tablet, I realize that holy freaking stars, this is real.
 
If I want this, it’s right here.

“I think you should let me do some
research for a few hours and check some of these people out,” Calvin says as he
looks up at me.
 
“And then let’s make
some calls this evening.
 
If these people
want you bad enough, they’ll fly out tomorrow to
come
meet with you.”

“How do you feel about that?” Kale asks.

I’m trying really hard not to gloss it
all over.
 
It threatens to wash over me
like a wave and drag me down under.
 
“That sounds good.
 
Thank you for
your help with this.”

“Not a problem,” he
says,
all seriousness.
 
“That video Kale posted
was perfect publicity for
Shurrock
, so they’re happy
to support the both of you in any way right now.
 
They would, however, like to see you wear
their clothing in your first music video.”

“Music video,” I breathe as I sit back
in my chair, blown over.
 
“Holy Hannah.”

“How are your dancing skills?” Kale asks
playfully.

“Non-existent,” I laugh at myself.
 
“I’m awful.”

“Just remember what I said.”
 
He raises an eyebrow.
 
“Own it.
 
Lots of people out there can’t dance.
 
They see this girl who can’t either, but is okay with that, they’ll love
you.”

“He’s right,” Calvin says without
looking up from the list he’s working on.
 
“Everyone’s already talking about every klutzy move you made at Lake’s
wedding the other night.
 
You’re already
being called America’s Every Girl Sweetheart.”

Wow.
 
Was the wedding really only a few nights back?
 
It feels like it was months ago.

And, always surprising me, Kale takes my
hand, and pulls it up to his lips to press a kiss there.

The air is thick, and tense, and keeps
me on edge as the night progresses.
 
Calvin sat at the table for two hours, click-clacking away on his
tablet.
 
Mumbling to
himself
.
 
Taking notes.
 
He then goes over his top five candidates for management and agents to
me, and it doesn’t mean much to me, so I agree to whoever he feels would be a
good fit.

And then he calls.
 
I sit on the couch, cross-legged.
 
Kale sits next to me.
 
Every once in a while, he reaches over, takes
my hand in his.
 
Or he rubs my back.
 
He doesn’t say much.
 
But he’s so much more there, and so much more
supportive, than I ever could have anticipated.

“That was the last one,” Calvin says at
nine-thirty that night.
 
“All five of
them have agreed to fly out here tomorrow.
 
You’ll have meetings with each of them.
 
First one starts at noon, and we’ll keep moving through them throughout
the day.”

“Thank you,” I say, trying to smile like
I’m excited.
 
And I am, but it’s a
nervous, like I might be sick, kind of smile.

“No problem,” he says as he turns off
the tablet and stands.
 
“Now, I’m going
to head to bed since jetlag is a bitch.
 
I’m still on New York time.
 
Goodnight.”

“Night,” Kale and I call at the same
time.

Tony walks out of his bedroom the same
time Calvin goes into his.
 
“Miss
Ford.
 
Mr. McCain,” he says with a tip of
his head as he walks past us and out onto the porch.
 
He’s been napping for the past few hours so
he can stay up all night to keep watch.

“He takes his job very seriously,” I
observe as he closes the front door behind him.

“I’ll say,” Kale
chuckles.

Finally, I relax back into the
couch.
 
And into Kale, since apparently
his arm was along the back of the couch when I leaned back.

I’m about to climb away, but Kale just
pulls me in tighter to his side.
 
Taking
advantage of the excuse to be touching him, I rest my head on his chest.
 
Everything in me flutters and sparkles.

“As crazy as the past few days have
been,” I say quietly.
 
Kale wraps his
other arm around me, holding me tighter.
 
“They’ve also been really amazing.”

He shifts his head, so his lips are
pressing into the top of my head.
 
“Yeah,
they have been.”

But as I think back to the night of the
wedding, to when I met his sister, and she said that
maybe
he’d be back home that night, and how he won’t be back home
tonight, something sinks inside of me.

To me, being here with him means
something huge.
 
I haven’t even dated a
guy in over a year, much less run away with him to a remote island.
 
But to Kale?
 
This is probably just another weekend with
another girl.
 
Kale and
I?
 
We live very different lives.

“What’s wrong?” he says quietly.

How can he always read my thoughts?

“Does this mean anything to you?” I
ask.
 
I hate to do it, but I also can’t
hold it in.
 
Because if
I let this continue, I fear I may leave this little island with a broken heart.
 
“I just…I don’t want to be another notch in
your belt.”

Kale pulls away from me slightly and
looks in my face.
 
There’s a bit of hurt
there, but also this look that tells me I’m not the only person who’s assumed
something like this.

“Look,” he says.
 
“I know I’ve gained a reputation as the kind
to run around, but you have to remember that you can’t believe everything the
press tells you.
 
Yes, I do always find
someone to keep myself occupied with.
 
But
something you should know about me: I’m terrified of being alone.
 
I hate it.
 
I need to be around people.
 
And
just because I find myself in the company of women most days does not mean I’m
having sex with them.”

Whoa.
 
This is way more than I was asking for.

But that honesty?

“It’s not like the press makes it out to
seem.
 
I can count the number of women
I’ve slept with on one hand,” he says, his eyes pleading with me to believe
him.

And this last
statement?
 
It’s a shocker.

“I believe you can tell quickly if
things are real between two people.
 
That you can almost always tell right away if they’re worth
spending time with or not.
 
So if
I can tell that I’m not going to want to spend the next year, two, ten, forever
with a woman, why would I ever waste my time with more than an evening?
 
Or a few hours?”

Emotion stings the back of my eyes, and
I’m not sure if I’m intimidated, scared, happy, or what.
 
This is all so much.

And all such a relief
to hear.

“That’s what I’m telling you, Whit,” he
says, his eyes intense.
 
His arms tighten
around me once more.
 
“Within sixty
seconds
of meeting you, I knew I was
going to need more.”

“How?”
I whisper.
 
My voice sounds
strained.
 
There’s a lump in my
throat.
 
“You’re…you.
 
And I’m just…”

“Stop doing that,” he says and his brow
furrows.
 
“Stop cutting
yourself down.
 
You’re something,
something incredible, and everyone can see it.
 
So, just
be
Whitney.
 
Because so far, it blows me off my feet every
minute I’m with you.”

I lean in close.
 
I can smell him, musky and heady.
 
My eyes lock on his lips.
 
My left hand reaches up, and hesitantly, I
place it on his right cheek.
 
There’s a
change that happens in Kale’s eyes.
 
They’re serious, and hungry, but they’re also deep.

“I want you to kiss me,” I admit, still
staring at his lips.
 
“But if you want to,
too, can we take it slow?”

“Yeah,” he says, the smallest of smiles
crossing his lips.
 
There’s relief in
it.
 
And anticipation.
 
“That sounds about damn perfect, angel.”

Every hormone inside my body is begging
me to rush forward and take him with vengeance, despite what I just said.
 
But I hold back.
 
And let Kale take the lead.

One of his hands slips around to my
back, pulling me just slightly closer.
 
Gentle.
 
Inviting.
 
His other hand comes up to my jawline, just
barely brushing my skin.

And I lean in, my eyes sliding closed as
everything in me goes haywire and fuzzy with pink glitter clouds.
 
I feel his breath on my lips.

And then his lips are on mine.

They’re gentle and quiet.
 
We float there for just a minute, breathing each
other in and out.
 
We’re still getting to
know each other, and we’re not ready to consume one another just yet.
 
But the past four days have brought out
unexpected things in each other, things no one else would have brought out in
the other.

Needing to be closer in a heart and soul
kind of way, I twist my body around, swinging one of my legs over both of
his.
 
I settle into his lap and he places
a hand on both of my hips.

It was a risky move.
 
It could have been an invitation for him to
take things so much further, my legs spread over him.
 
But he doesn’t do more than hold my sides
warmly.
 
His lips press against
mine.
 
One little, soft
kiss.
 
Then
another.

There’s something surprisingly peaceful
about kissing Kale.
 
There are the
million fireworks going off in my lower belly.
 
But there’s also
a calmness
inside of me.
 
I can’t explain it more than describing it as
being washed in honey and thrown up onto a cloud.
 
In a non-sticky gross way…

“Do you want to come to New York with me
on Thursday?” Kale whispers against my lips.

“Really?”
I ask.
 
My lips never leave his.
 
My hands simply come up to the back of his
neck.
 
Mostly so he can’t try to get
away.

“Yeah,” he chuckles into my mouth.
 
It’s an amazing sensation.
 
“You want to come?”

The grin that grows on my face is
ridiculous.
 
“First you whisk me away to
a secluded cabin and then you invite me to the other side of the
continent.
 
You know how to whisk a woman
off her feet, Kale McCain.”

“The thought of being away for a week is
killing me,” he tells me as I back away to look down into his face.
 
“I want you to come with me.”