On A Night Like This (Callaways #1)

planned on savoring these very special minutes. She liked the way his thick eyebrows arched over his eyes, the sweep of his long black lashes against his cheek, the slightly crooked turn to his nose, a nose that had been broken by one of his brothers a long time ago. His jaw was strong, his lips and mouth oh, so sensual. Her breath caught in her chest, as she realized not only was she back in her mad crush, it was even worse this time around.
    She knew him better now. He wasn't just some romantic ideal. She connected with him on a lot of levels, understood his need to prove himself not only as a Callaway but also apart from the rest of them. She admired his loyalty to friends and family. She envied his courage, his zest for adventure… Saying goodbye was going to hurt.
    She couldn't think about that now. Maybe later.
    Aiden's lids fluttered open. He smiled at her. "What's on your mind?"
    "Nothing," she lied.
    "Really? You look a little more tense than you did earlier."
    "I'm getting chilly. We should get dressed."
    "You first," he said. "And take your time getting to your clothes. I like to watch."
    She shook her head, a blush crossing her cheeks. "I am nowhere near as uninhibited as you."
    "Seeing you now, that's hard to believe."
    She sat up, crossing her arms in front of her breasts. "I got caught up in the moment."
    "So did I."
    "You're a bad influence."
    "Or a good one," he suggested. "When is the last time you went skinny dipping?"
    "Uh, let's see—never," she said.
    "You were missing out."
    "Apparently, I was. How many times have you swum here in the buff?"
    "About three dozen," he said.
    "And here I thought I was special." She felt a little disappointed by his answer.
    He rolled on to his side and propped himself up on one elbow. Then he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His gaze was tender when he said, "You are special, Sara. I've never been here with anyone else. I've always been alone."
    "I'm sure you could have had company if you wanted it."
    "I never felt like sharing this spot – until now."
    There was a seriousness in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat, but she didn't want to get ahead of herself, didn't want to read feelings into his words, feelings that might not be real. "I'm glad you shared the pool with me."
    "I am, too. Now, go on, get dressed."
    She got to her feet and walked across the grass to get her clothes. Aiden followed, and they quickly dressed.
    "We should go back and get camp set up before it starts to get dark," Aiden said.
    "And maybe open up that cooler. All this fresh air makes me hungry."
    He laughed and stole a quick kiss. "You make me hungry, Sara, and I'm not talking about food."
    She made a face at him. "Not a good line, Aiden."
    "Really? I thought it was one of my better ones." He swung an arm around her shoulders and they headed down the trail.
    When they reached their campsite, Aiden put up a small tent, while Sara sliced some cheese and put crackers on a plastic plate. She spread out a blanket and then sat down to enjoy her afternoon picnic. She couldn't remember feeling this relaxed in a very long time. Worries about work and her father nudged at the back of her brain, but she refused to start thinking about her problems now.
    They spent the rest of the afternoon being lazy, talking about everything under the sun: movies, books, sports, politics and religion. They'd both gone to Catholic school, both spent time in church in their childhood and teenage years, but neither one of them had really kept up the practice of Sunday Mass.
    "I do miss church sometimes," she told him. "Not so much for the formal teachings but for the sense of community, the familiar, reassuring repetitions that cut through the chaos of life. What about you?"
    "I like that part of it, too. But the rest—I don't know. I'm not that big on organized religion, but don't tell anyone in my family I said that. I've got an uncle that's a priest and a second cousin that's a nun."
    "I remember your uncle, or as we called him—Father Mike," she said with a warm smile. "He was the nicest priest at St. Andrew's. He used to play basketball at recess with you and your brothers."
    "I think Uncle Mike was about thirty then," Aiden said. "He's seventeen years younger than my father, so he was almost closer in age to me than to my dad."
    "He was kind and funny. When I went to confession, I was always hoping he was the one in the confessional."
    "As if you ever had anything to confess," he