grinned. “Good. Then let’s go do it now.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Maybe,” Jared said. “But since when did that ever stop you?”
Callie returned the smile, hers now curving up into one filled with a bit of a dare, a challenge. “Are you sure you can keep up with me?”
Jared leaned forward. His lips brushed against the edge of her hair, nearly kissed the delicate curve of her ear. “Absolutely. I’ve been practicing.”
Callie laughed, the deep, throaty sound Jared remembered, sending his mind roaring down a heady path he thought he’d forgotten. Clearly he hadn’t forgotten it. Not at all.
Telling him his plan had one hell of a serious flaw.
CHAPTER THREE
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?”