Lost Without You Page 7

  “What are you up to?” she asked. “You look like you’re plotting something.”

  He feigned offense. “I am not plotting. More wine?”

  She laughed. “Oh, I get it now. Load me up on alcohol then take advantage of me. I’m on to you, Mr. Cormack, and your games are not going to work on me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just thought we could share this nice big bottle of wine and then maybe you’d feel a little more relaxed.”

  What will happen if I get tipsy?

  “That’s all? No ulterior motive?”

  He nodded and took another sip of his wine. “Why don’t we eat? It will help soak up all the wine I’m forcing you to consume. Maybe then you won’t be so suspicious of me.”

  He removed the lid covering a platter in the middle of the blanket, revealing a dish of pasta. Circling the platter was a ring of what looked like garlic cheese bread and a tossed salad sat in a bowl to the side. He served her a plate, then made another for himself.

  She took a bite. “Oh my God. You made this? Out here? From scratch?”

  “I did. It’s not my finest meal, but it was the best I could do with the limited resources available. Most of my first choice ingredients wouldn’t keep in these conditions.”

  She wiped her mouth with her napkin. “This is amazing. I can’t even make a sandwich and here you are making all of this on a camping stove. You really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble just for me.”

  “You were worth every second I spent in the sweltering heat of the kitchen tent this afternoon.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling around the edges slightly. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. So tell me what your specialty is. Everyone has something they can cook.”

  She shook her head. “Not me.”

  “One dish. I know you don’t eat in restaurants every night. And there’s only so much you can order in. So what’s your go to meal of choice?”

  “You think I’m kidding, but I really can’t cook. Nights when I stay in and don’t want to order, I usually eat cereal or yogurt or some other easy food. I don’t cook. But I do love to bake.”

  “Really? You must not eat the things you bake.” His eyes drifted down her body. Heat radiated along her skin in his wake.

  “I do eat it actually. Most people think I must be anorexic or something, but trust me, I have a very healthy appetite. I also have a high metabolism and I try to workout when I can.” She shrugged. “It seems to work for me.”

  “I agree.”

  The silence around them was comfortable as they ate. For once in her life, she was on a date — Just dinner, remember! — and wasn’t completely nervous about doing the right thing or saying the wrong thing. It was refreshing.

  “So how do you manage to keep looking so incredibly put together all the time when you’re out on these crazy locations filming and eating whatever your cooks make for you that day?” Zoe asked. She knew other people, tabloids mostly, had made fun of Chip and his very “metrosexual” appearance. But she didn’t mind it at all. She liked a guy who took care of himself as much as she did.

  Not that she was vain, regardless of what others might call her. She believed in looking your best to feel your best. If you go out into the world, why not do that with your best foot forward?

  Chip grinned. “I like to work out too. Maybe we should work out together sometime.”

  With Chip in the woods. Hot and sweaty. Muscles bulging from the workout. Yes, please.

  “You even work out here? What do you do, bench press a tree?” She laughed at the thought of it.

  “Mostly I jog around camp. I’m surprised you haven’t heard me running past your tent each morning. I also do pushups and crunches. But I’m not opposed to bench-pressing something, although fallen logs are kind of messy. Perhaps you’d like to fill the position for me?”

  I can think of a few positions I’d like to fill.

  No. Stop.

  “I’m not sure I want to be bench-pressed.”

  He chuckled. “Okay so maybe no bench-pressing. But you are welcome to come for a jog with me any morning you like.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Though I do like my sleep more than I like being out in the chilly morning air getting sweaty.” She took her last bite of pasta then wiped her mouth with her napkin and leaned back against his cot. She rubbed her stomach. “I’m so full. Remind me to have you over for dinner at my place. You can show me how to use my stove for more than baking brownies.”

  “Absolutely, but you have to promise me one thing.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

  “I’ll cook dinner for you, if you bake dessert for me.”

  While she pretended to think about it hard as if there was any question in her mind, he took the opportunity to lean against the cot beside her, his arm lying along the edge of the bed right behind her shoulders. His hand stroked a path up and down her upper arm, making it harder for her to reply than it would have been if he’d stayed seated where he had been.

  “Deal,” she practically whispered. It wasn’t as if she had to speak loudly since he was suddenly so close to her, but she wouldn’t have been able to make her voice louder if she’d needed to scream her response. Her voice seemed to have vanished with his close proximity. “What would you have me bake?”

  He rested his other hand on the inside of her knee and the pool of lava that had been simmering in her belly since their kiss earlier flared to life inside of her again.

  “I don’t really care what you give me as long as it’s warm and soft and makes me want more.” His voice was lower than usual, his eyes heavy lidded as he leaned toward her slightly.

  Oh. Well then. She cleared her throat.

  “Are we still talking about baked goods?” she asked.

  “Of course we are. I don’t know what else your mind could possibly be thinking of in relation to those things.” He smirked and cocked an eyebrow at her, challenging her to admit the dirty place her mind had decided to take up residence.

  “Good. I have a delicious recipe for molten chocolate lava cake. It fits your description perfectly.”

  Not to mention went exceptionally well with the lava now boiling in her belly.

  “It’s a sweet chocolate cake,” she continued, trying not to drool at the thought of him eating it. At her place. Naked. “Served warm so the middle melts when you press into it.”

  His smirk fell from his face as she felt his hand leave her arm to snake up into her hair instead. “That sounds delicious. You look delicious. On the way back to camp, you tasted delicious.”

  She licked her lips at his words. Holy hell. Who knew Chip could be so sexy?

  “I … you … ” she started, trying to find words. Hard to do when it felt as if a vacancy sign had been posted in the spot where her brain used to live.

  He silenced her need for words with his mouth on hers. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head so he had a better angle to explore her mouth.

  She kissed him back, giving in to the need she’d felt since their earlier kiss. A need she’d been trying so hard to ignore. And had failed at miserably.

  Chip’s other hand squeezed her inner thigh, now much higher up on her leg than it had been a few minutes ago. How had that happened without her noticing?

  His tongue mingled with hers again and the answer was clear. He stole her thoughts, her reason, her self-control with his kisses. Damn, he was a great kisser.

  He bit her lower lip gently and she melted into him. How could he make her throw away all her hesitations with just a simple kiss?

  But when he pressed his lips against her mouth again hungrily, claiming her, she knew it was more than just a kiss. This — with Chip of all people — was amazing. She’d never felt this deep seeded need to be with
someone so much as she felt the need to be with Chip, right here, right now.

  You can’t. Stop.

  Her internal protest fell mute as his hand slid the rest of the way up her leg, stopping just short of brushing against the junction of her thighs. She whimpered involuntarily as a wave of desire shot through her. She hadn’t been touched by anyone in so long. And certainly the last man she’d been with hadn’t caused any kind of reaction like Chip did.

  His lips left her mouth and traveled along her jaw in a series of little kisses.

  Right along the ridge of her scar. The one covered with foundation, hidden.

  She stiffened.

  No.

  She rolled away from him, from his kisses, from his hands and got to her feet.

  Her heart pounded against her ribs as the realization of how close she’d come to giving in to Chip started to set in. She couldn’t. No, she wouldn’t. She wasn’t ready. Not now.

  Maybe not ever.

  “Zoe, what’s wrong? What did I do?” Chip asked, climbing to his feet, reaching for her. “I’m sorry. I really thought you wanted this too. I wouldn’t have … if I’d known … ”

  She backed away, suddenly feeling like a cornered bear. “No. Don’t. I can’t. I have to go.” She quickly unzipped the tent and bolted out into the cool night air as he came up behind her.

  “Zoe, please talk to me. Tell me what the hell just happened.”

  She heard the pleading in his voice but didn’t turn around. She couldn’t explain this to him without telling him the truth about her life and that wasn’t something she was willing to do.

  Especially not now that she had to admit to herself she had some kind of feelings for him.

  Once she told him the truth, he’d never look at her the same way.

  And she couldn’t bear to see a look of pity on his face.

  Chapter Eight

  Chip’s chest burned as he sprinted the last quarter mile back to base camp. He welcomed the sensation. At least this was a feeling he recognized. A feeling he understood.

  Not like all those feelings he was still trying to deal with from having dinner with Zoe last night.

  What was it about her that got his blood boiling and his groin aching all at the same time? One minute she was kind and sweet — and willing — then the next she was closed up tight, insecure, and off limits. Damn.

  He came to a halt at his tent and slipped inside quickly to grab his bathroom supplies and a towel then headed straight for the shower. If he was lucky, he had time to rinse off, clean up, and still stop in for breakfast before the cooks closed up shop for the morning. Usually he didn’t have to rush, but after a sleepless night thinking about Zoe, he’d slept in and started his run late. All the more reason to hurry and make sure he got breakfast. Being tired and hungry would make filming today long and painful.

  Seeing Zoe again today would be torturous enough.

  If only he could figure out what was up with her. He knew she had a history of pushing guys away. The dating history she’d filled out on her application for The One had been all the evidence he’d needed to draw that conclusion. The question was why she pushed so hard.

  Sure, there was her past to consider, but there had to be more to it than that. Did one traumatic incident really scar a person so deeply for life? Not many people knew that Zoe had been in a terrible car accident at fourteen that had left her scarred and forced her to undergo many corrective surgeries. But he knew. He just didn’t understand why one event in her life seemed to have such a lasting impact. People got into car accidents all the time and didn’t let it still affect their lives years later. Had the accident really bothered her so much? Why?

  Chip strolled back toward the shower area, hoping that everyone else was already done for the day and that there was still some warm water left in one of the solar bladders. If not, he’d have to waste even more time filling it himself.

  A river of sweat dribbled down his forehead, narrowly missing his eye. He swiped at his forehead with the end of his towel, briefly covering his face. Good thing he already knew the route to the showers by heart.

  He eyed the solar-heated bags above them, trying to decipher which stood the best chance of having enough warm water left in it to get him clean in the least uncomfortable way. After a quick inspection, he concluded the second was his best shot.

  Walking past the first door, a mumbling came from inside as he passed. He paused, straining to hear if the person inside was okay and just particularly vocal that morning, or if someone was actually in need of help. Although what you could possibly need help with in an outdoor shower was probably something he wasn’t interested in finding out.

  He stepped toward the second again, deciding it was best to mind his own business. He didn’t want to be privy to anything that happened at the showers unless it concerned him specifically. There was only so close a boss needed to get to his staff and he definitely drew the line at shower help in all forms.

  “Damn it. Ouch.”

  Chip paused again as the voice from shower one continued to mutter, louder and with distinctly more colorful language.

  When the f-bomb dropped, he found himself drawn to the shower by the sound of a now familiar voice.

  “Zoe?” he asked cautiously. “Is there something wrong that I might be able to help you with?”

  She cursed again. “No. I’m good. Thanks though.”

  He smiled. She was a terrible liar. Best to call her out and not beat around the bush for longer than necessary. “I know something is wrong. I’ve heard you cursing and ouching for the last few minutes. Why don’t you open up and I’ll help you. I have a towel handy if that’s the problem.”

  He didn’t know if he hoped she was in the need of his towel or not. Just the thought of Zoe standing naked on the other side of a thin piece of material was enough to make him need to go for another sprint to burn off steam. Although he could think of a few other ways he’d rather use up his pent up energy — and all of them involved Zoe.

  She sighed. “Fine. You can come in.” Her voice sounded sad and defeated.

  She really did hate having to admit she needed help. Well, he’d try his best not to rub it in her face.

  He took a deep breath, steadying his excitement about what he might find concerning Zoe and a shower. His thoughts ran wild.

  Slowly, he opened the shower. And found Zoe wrapped tightly in a towel, covering her from just above her breasts to just above her knees. Damn.

  He sagged a little with disappointment. He really had hoped to find her in the nude. Guess that would have to stay a fantasy for now. Still, seeing her almost naked was pretty awesome. His workout pants grew tighter as he attempted to casually lean against the frame of the shower stall.

  “What seems to be the problem in here?”

  He couldn’t see any obvious reason for the cursing and need for help. She looked like she was in one piece standing with her back against one of the walls. In fact, for coming out of the shower, she looked pretty damn put together. Sure, she was naked, a point he couldn’t help recognizing in his mind over and over again, but she had her makeup fully applied and her hair fell loose around her shoulders in soft wet waves. Give the girl a dress and she could be ready to go on set.

  “I, um, seem to be a little stuck.” She bit her lip as shifted her weight as if she was uncomfortable.

  “You don’t look stuck. I’m not even sure what’s in a shower stall to get stuck on … to … in.” He chuckled. “How exactly are you stuck?”

  “It’s my hair.”

  “Your hair looks fine Zoe, not to worry about anyone seeing you,” he teased.

  “It’s not that,” she said, swatting him on the arm, annoyed. Quickly, she pulled her arm back and wrapped it across her chest, gripping the edge of her towel in white knuckle
s as if she were worried it might suddenly vanish. Not that he’d mind.

  “So what is it then?”

  Her gaze darted out the door and back to Chip. Her hand snaked out again and slipped around his bicep, pulling him into the tiny shower, barely a few inches separating them now. “Quick, close the curtain. I can’t have you lingering in the doorway like some kind of peeping Tom.”

  He pulled the curtain closed behind him with his free hand, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that Zoe was now almost naked, almost pressed up against him, and still had her hand lingering on his body. His heart pounded in his chest again, but not from jogging this time.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but his breath caught in his throat when he looked down at her. From this angle, he could make out a hint of cleavage plunging below the edge of her towel. The sight was distracting. He forced his gaze to meet hers. That didn’t help to dislodge the dirty ideas in his mind about how much nicer it would be to get clean with Zoe in his shower.

  “If I’d known I was going to be in your shower this morning, I would have skipped my morning run. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a mess and not at all the knight in shining armor you might need right now.”

  She licked her lips. “You’re exactly the person I need right now. And I hope I’m right thinking I can trust you.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “I also hope you won’t laugh at my stupidity when you see how I’m stuck.”

  He smiled. “I’m incredibly curious.”

  Sighing, she tilted her head to the side and stepped away from the wall, closing the gap between them. Behind her, a section of blonde hair was tangled with one of the shower frame poles. He couldn’t help but laugh a little.

  “This is your big crisis? A tangle of hair?”

  She squeezed her hand around his bicep. “You promised not to laugh.”

  “Actually, I didn’t.” He smiled, glancing down to her. She peered back up at him.

  He hadn’t realized just how short she was without her regular stiletto heels on. For some reason, whenever they were walking between camp and the filming areas, she wore sneakers but still seemed taller. Even when they’d kissed on that trail yesterday, there’d been slightly more space between them and they’d been on unlevel ground.