She cracked three eggs into a skillet and stirred them with a fork. After adding a hint of salt and pepper she took a long swig of coffee and took stock, thorough stock, of her feelings. Last night in the shower she’d been sure he was going to kiss her again and heaven help her, she’d ached for it. Places she didn’t know she possessed wanted him, needed to be near him, feel his touch. But it was wrong, all wrong to be carrying on right now. How long should they wait? How long was reasonable and appropriate? How long could she resist him now that she knew what it felt like to be in his arms?
It made her feel good to calm his anxiety. He’d been through a traumatic experience the likes of which she couldn’t imagine. Having frequent flat tires scared her but she felt accustom to dealing with them now. The one fender bender she’d been involved in didn’t nearly measure up.
She’d just dumped the eggs onto two plates when she saw him standing in the doorway.
“That smells good,” he said and stepped deeper into the kitchen. He’d changed into jeans and a white T-shirt. Did he have any idea how sexy he was? She needed to stop drinking him in with her eyes and focus on breakfast. And work. The hellions would be in rare form with spring break coming up next week.
But he stepped closer and all thoughts of focus and libido control washed away like a leaf down a stream.
A wave of awareness rushed through her. He filled up her little kitchen, stole all the air and gave her no room to think. As soon as he swiped his coffee mug from the counter he returned to the doorway.
“Gretchen?”
“Yeah?” She shook off the haze. Man, she needed to finish her coffee and fast.
“You’re not feeling weird...about last night, are you?”
“No,” she said, turning toward him. “I’m just trying not to burn the toast.”
And to ignore how handsome you are.
“Butter or jelly?” she asked, turning to the fridge. When she turned back, items in hand, he’d moved again.
In fact, he’d put his coffee down and he was an arm’s length away. Less than, really.
“I’m glad. I didn’t want to wake you. You’ve been so generous―”
“I―” she tried to interrupt.
He didn’t let her.
“I thought you could use a night in your own bed. Thank you for holding my hand. It was the best night I’ve had since the accident.”
He sighed and she watched his chest rise and fall. Gravy and biscuits, he was fine. More than fine. Solid. Spectacular. She was running out of adjectives.
“You’re...welcome.” Did that sound as breathy as she thought it did?
The thoughts scattered the instant he dipped his head. He blocked out the overhead light as his lips slanted across hers. Warm and firm and holy cow he was kissing her. She braced her hands against his chest and a heartbeat later felt his palms slip around her waist.
Holy moly that felt good. Better than good. She needed more. A bolt of courage made her part her lips. He was quick on the uptake, deepening the kiss, sweeping his tongue between her lips. She felt an electric shock all the way to her toes and she almost yelped. He held her steady, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across her skin.
The toast popped up out of the toaster startling them apart. Gretchen dropped the block of butter and Greg saved the grape jelly before she dropped it too.
“I―” She didn’t know what to say which was good considering her lips were too kissed to form words. Who thought that was a possibility? Too kissed? She halted that idea as soon as it formed. With Greg at the helm there was no such thing as too kissed. Her cheeks heated.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I stopped kissing you yesterday,” he murmured, his hands on her upper arms.
“Me― You have?”
And gracious, had she been about to admit that she’d been longing for his kiss just as much? Well, it was the truth and she’d already told too many white lies this week.
“Mmm huh.” He nodded once and took a careful step back. “You have the craziest knack for making me forget.”
“That makes two of us,” she said quietly.
“I’d better go sit down or I’m going to make you late.” She got the distinct impression by the way he was staring at her lips as he backed away that he meant he’d keep on kissing her or more.
He disappeared down the hall, coffee mug in hand and she stared after him, rooted to the spot, her jaw dropped. She wanted to call out and tell him not to stop, who cared if she was late? Who cared if the kids took their spelling test this morning.
Heat, sensual heat and passion coiled inside of her and she felt born again. Fresh, revived, alive in a way that made her realize she’d been asleep before, stumbling through life, not taking the bull by the horns. She lifted her fingers to her lips and considered going after him.
When had mousy Gretchen Mascoe become passionate?
She shook her head but the fog didn’t clear. Why would it? How could it? He’d just kissed her straight into oblivion. Again.
Concentrate. Food. Breakfast. Eggs are done, that leaves toast.
She held a cool hand against her throat and stared down at the butter. It was a stark reminder of just how hot and heavy they’d gotten and how startled she’d been. Glancing at the clock over the stove she saw that she was already ten minutes behind schedule and that galvanized her into action. After popping another couple of pieces of toast into the toaster she fixed everything else on a tray and gobbled down her own eggs as she waited.
Saved by the toaster, she thought as she picked up the tray. She couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up from within.
After the world’s fastest shower she jumped into the clothes she’d picked out last night and raced through the house, grabbing her things as she went.
“Shoes, shoes,” she muttered, grabbing her keys and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “My kingdom for shoes.”
She found them by the front door and slipped her feet inside. Her big toe hit a foreign object, a crinkly object. Squealing she jerked her foot back and did a little dance.
“What’s wrong?” Greg called from the couch.
Oh heavens. How had she forgotten he was here? Hearing her scream like a little girl no less.
“Nothing.”
She crouched down and peered into the shoe.
“Gizmo! Stop hiding your toys in my shoes.” She extracted a crinkly foil ball and tossed it over her shoulder. Gizmo dove after it and disappeared into the dining room.
Gretchen checked the other shoe before putting it on and then doubled back to the kitchen to make sure her furry guest had food and water.
“There’s food in the fridge. You have everything else you need?” she asked quickly, breezing back into the living room. He seemed to be getting around easier this morning, for which she was thankful. Especially after that kiss, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind. Despite her objections to timing and appropriateness a healthy man was a man who could kiss at will.
“Almost...” he said cryptically.
She paused with her hummingbird routine and stared down at him.
“Anything I can do?”
He was staring at her lips again. Heat stole across her shoulders and her lower body tightened. Holy smokes.
“It can wait. See you when you get home.”
She didn’t miss the way his gaze narrowed ever so slightly.
“Okay. See ya.”
Then, before she did something decadent like lean down and kiss him goodbye, she took off for the front door.
Greg’s first order of business was to set up his new phone. Just as soon as he relived that kiss. Holy hell. He’d expected sweetness and he’d gotten spice. Not that spice was bad, certainly not bad where Gretchen was concerned. Her brand of fiery heat had everything to do with how timidly she’d kissed him back at first, then leaned into him further until she’d opened her lips and bam.
Off to the races.
If that stupid toast
er hadn’t gone off…but it had. He tipped his head back and sighed. It was probably for the best. As much as he wanted to kiss her again and again, he also didn’t want to make her late. She was already a godsend, he couldn’t afford to get her into trouble.
Trouble. He never would have put trouble and Gretchen Mascoe in the same sentence. But then she’d come to his rescue and as much as he’d tried to ignore it, well, there was no ignoring the beautiful brown eyed woman.
Okay, Fairchild, time to get your head out of the gutter.
Raking his fingers through his hair, he huffed out a sigh. The pain in his shoulders was half of what it had been yesterday. Either the pain meds were working wonders or Gretchen’s touch really did have healing powers. Her kiss certainly did.
“Just go get the phone,” he said to the empty house, hoping the sound of his own voice would shock him out of his lust filled stupor.
Preparing for the ache in his knee, which had not gotten better, he slowly turned atop the couch and then used the arm rest to push himself clear. The walk to her bedroom was slower than it had been just half an hour ago, but only because he stopped to study the photos in the hallway. There were at least two dozen small black frames lined up down the right wall like soldiers. He recognized JJ, Cindy, Baby and Gretchen but there was another brown haired woman in several of them and an elderly woman with big brown eyes he assumed was Gretchen’s beloved grandmother. They shared the same sweet smile. Apart from a photo of JJ, Thomas, Ronny, himself and Gretchen taken at least five years ago, there were no other men in any of the photos. But then, who kept photos of their exes around?
Gizmo wound her way through his legs, purring like a motorboat.
“Hey, fuzzball.”
Despite the fact that ‘manly men’ weren’t supposed to like cats, he did. He liked most animals, except for jelly fish. Freaks of nature those little buggers were.
“Come on. How about you tell me everything you know about Gretchen Mascoe and I’ll feed you wet cat food until you bust, deal?”
The fluffy cat stared up at him with unsquinting green eyes. Meow.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, closing the distance to Gretchen’s bedroom.
Thank God for great brothers. He paused, staring down at the bag they’d put together for him, then zeroed in on the new iPhone they’d purchased to replace the one lost in the accident. He didn’t’ tell them often enough how thankful he was to have them in his life. They weren’t just great brothers, they were great men. Smart and funny and caring, just like their dad.
Why did it take a near death experience to wake a person up and show them the truth? Human nature he supposed. People glided through life, running from task to task, stopping only around the holidays to remember who they were and what’s important. He couldn’t really fault himself. It was a natural progression he supposed. It just sucked that it took something so drastic to make him appreciate what had been in front of him his whole life.
He stepped to the bed and sat on the edge. After opening the box he pulled out the sleek gray and silver device. So much power in such a small case. Hundreds of ways to converse and yet he hardly ever said what was important. His voicemail box was usually full of quick messages from friends and family, hardly more than a few words each. Certainly nothing profound or even memorable.
And the voicemails he left weren’t any more important. Just quick snippets, meeting details, a quick “call me back.” That was all well and good. Nothing unusual. But that was the problem. He could text, call, video chat, instant message, Skype, email and yet he never said he loved his brothers. His mother had always ended her calls with I love you.
He missed her. Her smile, her easy way, those little cheese sandwiches she served with tomato soup when he or one of his siblings was feeling down.
He quickly booted up the phone and lost himself in setting it up. Email account, voicemail message, a quick text to his brothers to thank them for their help and getting him a replacement phone. He decided to make a change in his usual habits and reach out to those who mattered. It would be a start.
Opening his text messaging app, he selected Gretchen’s cell number from the list and started typing.
19
Las Vegas
Cindy flopped next to Adam with a sigh and a big grin.
“You’d think we’d be tired by now,” she said in between deep breaths.
It was Monday afternoon and they’d hardly come up for air since she’d arrived on Saturday. She didn’t want to come up for air, didn’t want to face reality. Sex was never their problem, though.
Distance. Now that was a problem.
He rolled her way and propped his head up on his hand. “I never get tired with you.”
Talk about making a woman melt. The sincerity in his eyes compounded his words and she felt the waterworks coming on. He was so in tune with her in a way no one else ever had been.
“That’s nothing to be sad about,” he said softly, running his other hand across her stomach.
Though his touch was soothing she felt ‘the talk’ coming.
“I’ll move,” she blurted.
The shock on his face was mirrored in her mind. Had those two words really just left her lips? This was what their relationship had come down to months ago…a country between them. Scarce time together. Once a month trips and daily phone calls hadn’t been enough for either of them. His job, the company he’d just purchased with his partners was in Vegas and her life, her friends, her family were in Atlanta.
They stared at each other unblinking. Did she mean it? Was she sure? What if she started to resent him? What if she hated the desert? What if she didn’t adjust to coupledom?
“Breathe,” he whispered and then kissed her slowly, thoroughly. He held her tight, leaving no room for panic or even second thoughts.
She clung to him for endless minutes all other thoughts vacating her mind. He eclipsed the world until all she knew was the feel of his lips against hers, how tightly he held her, the gentle probing of his tongue.
They shared a breath and he kissed the corner of her mouth before nipping his way down her jaw to the tender flesh below her ear. She shivered against him and tightened her hold around his back.
“Before you make a decision you’ll regret, perhaps you should hear my proposal.”
The word jerked her back to the here and now. “Proposal?” she croaked the word.
“We’re expanding the company. Louisville and Atlanta are our top two choices for a new colo.”
“Because of the rivers?” She’d learned enough about web hosting and servers from him in the last six months to know that the buildings that housed all the hardware needed to be cooled and being located on a river was the most cost effective scenario.
He pulled back a fraction but kept an arm beneath her neck. “You were listening.”
She nodded. She’d absorbed every word he’d ever said to her. But right now she was having trouble processing everything. If they opened a new location, even in Louisville, he’d be closer. Within a day’s drive versus a several hour flight.
Her heart started to race.
“It’d take a while,” he said against her skin as he kissed his way down her neck, “to build and then I’d stay on to run things.”
“So―” She squirmed beneath him, felt the tell-tale sign of his desire and lost her train of thought. How could he be ready to go again so soon? It seemed physically impossible.
“So?” he asked, the corner of his mouth hitching up in a mischievous grin. Then he dipped his head and sucked her right nipple into his mouth. The strong suction made her jaw drop open but no sound came out.
She licked her lips and tried to form a coherent thought. “What would it take to put Atlanta in the top slot?”
He let her breast pop from his mouth and he gave her that grin again.
Her legs automatically bent, cradling him between her thighs as he shifted up to cover her. Chest to chest, belly to belly, skin agains
t skin.
“As luck would have it, I have some sway with the decision making committee,” he said, his cock prodding her.
“Oh yeah?” she said, sounding as breathless as she felt.
He reached between them and rubbed a thumb against her clit.
“Yeah.”
Oh…
“Do you know of anywhere I could bunk while I’m in Atlanta?”
He rubbed his cock against her, sliding easily between her wet folds. How did he expect her to answer a question she couldn’t remember? Every nerve ending was focused on pleasure, moving just right to create that sweet friction. Bliss was hers for the taking.
“Stop messing around,” she said, thrusting her hips.
He didn’t give her what she wanted. “Not until you answer my question. I don’t want to be stranded.”
He nipped her chin with his teeth. “Or homeless,” he added, rotating his hips in a way that taunted and teased her.
“Of course I know a place you can stay, now stop talking and make me come.”
“Good. I’m glad that’s settled,” he said and thrust home.
20
Gretchen was almost to her car Monday after work when her cell phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway.
“Gretchen?” A feminine voice asked.
“This is she.”
“Hi. My name is Lillith White and I own Paper and Things in Roswell. Greg Fairchild sent me a link to your website and I love your designs.”
Gretchen’s brain raced to keep up with the information. She’d been to Paper and Things several times over the years and she was familiar with Lillith White thanks to an article on her in Atlanta magazine. But how did Greg know the owner? And why would he reach out and mention Gretchen’s work? Didn’t matter, not right now.
“Thank you,” she said and hit the unlock button on her key fob. As she was putting her bag into the back seat, Lillith continued.
“I’m opening a new store near the Mall of Georgia and I’d like to talk to you about carrying your designs, specifically the party packs. I adore those and know our local moms will too.”
Falling for His Fake Fiancée (Book 2, Girls' Night Trilogy) Page 17