Sway (Keeping Score Book 6)

by Tawdra Kandle

  I dug my nails into the muscles on his back, lifted my hips to meet his and let myself go, giving into the miasma of pleasure at the same time that Gideon’s body stiffened and an unearthly sound ripped from his chest. In the last second, he breathed out my name, and hearing the reverence in his voice was the most unexpected moment of the entire unbelievable evening.

  I let my head roll to the side and fell into a blissful peace.

  “Do you like what you do?”

  I turned to look at Gideon, surprised at the question. We were sitting up in my bed; Gideon was still naked, the sheet covering him to the waist. I’d shrugged on a hotel robe a bit earlier, and it was still draped loosely around me. We were sharing a bottle of water and a bucket of caramel popcorn that I’d brought along as a hotel room snack.

  “Um . . .” I gave his query a little bit of thought. It hadn’t escaped my notice that as stingy as Gideon tended to be with personal information, he also hadn’t asked me any questions about my life, beyond the deep, dark secret I’d shared earlier in the evening. That he was asking one now surprised me.

  Actually, I was shocked that he was still here. I’d honestly expected him to jump out of bed and into his pants before I’d recovered from the trio of orgasms he’d given me, and if he had, I wouldn’t have complained. After all, we’d agreed that this was just a no-strings hook up. A quick get-away would’ve been the next logical step.

  But instead, when I’d finally gathered enough energy to open my eyes, I’d found Gideon lying next to me on his side. One arm was bent beneath his head, while the other rested on the bed between us, the tips of his fingers nearly touching my breast. His eyes were closed and his breathing even as he dozed.

  For the space of several moments, I’d watched him, letting my gaze wander idly over the planes and angles of his perfect face, appreciating the way his pale eyelashes lay on the delicate skin beneath his eyes. Gideon Maynard was beautiful. Oh, there was nothing about him that wasn’t masculine—nothing that suggested anything less than utter strength. But in those strong features, there was unquestionable beauty. It wasn’t obvious when he was awake and alert, but now, in repose, I could see the traces of the boy he must have been . . . and the hints of the man he would someday be were there, too.

  When he’d begun to stir, I’d quickly feigned a huge yawn, stretching my arms over my head. Gideon had sighed deeply, blinked and offered me a crooked grin.

  “Hey.” His voice was rough, and he’d cleared his throat. “So . . . I’m suddenly starving.”

  I’d laughed. “Well, you definitely worked up an appetite.”

  “Want to order something from room service? I didn’t eat much at the party, and I’m in the mood for a burger and fries.” The way his eyes lit up made him look all the more boyish, and my heart lurched suddenly in a dangerous direction.

  “Burgers sound perfect,” I’d agreed lightly, careful to hide what I was feeling.

  And after we’d consumed the burgers—I’d realized I was ravenous, too—I’d produced the bucket of caramel corn as dessert, making Gideon laugh at how prepared I was.

  Now, I curled up my legs, wrapping my arms around my shins, and responded to his question. “A year ago, I would’ve said definitely, yes, I love my job. Six months ago, I would’ve told you that most of the time I like it. Now . . .” I lifted one shoulder. “I’m not so sure. I think it’s kind of like a relationship that’s outlived its expiration date, you know? I can’t point to any one thing that’s changed, but the job—the whole career path—just isn’t making me happy anymore. I dread going to the office on Monday. I find myself making excuses to avoid doing anything extra for work, when I used to live for that shit—the parties, the late-night conferences, the eighteen-hour days.”

  Gideon’s brow knit together. “I don’t know much about politics, I guess, beyond what I’ve seen in movies and on the news. I always imagined that kind of work as a sort of constant whirlwind. I guess it’s not all glamour, is it?”

  “Ha!” I chuckled, stretching out one leg. “Not hardly. There are moments when I feel like I’m doing something that really matters, that makes a difference, but those are few and far between. Most of the time, it’s mind-numbing paper work and meetings and phone calls . . . sometimes, I get to escort constituents around the Capitol building, and every now and again, I’m able to see some exciting debates on the floor of the Senate, but that’s the exception, not the rule.”

  “Yes, but if the work is important . . .” Gideon frowned. “My job, when you look at it on an average monthly basis, is four days that matter and twenty-six days that are pain and drudgery. Maybe that’s just life.”

  “Maybe it is,” I allowed. “And if that’s the case, I accept it. But it’s not the drudgery that’s getting to me. It’s what goes on beneath the veneer. The deals that turn important legislation into a mess of unrelated bills. The compromises that lawmakers have to swallow in order to get their own platforms through. Sometimes, it makes me sick to my stomach.” I traced a circle on the bedspread with the tip of my finger. “I didn’t arrive in Washington, D.C. as a naïve child. I knew politics were dirty, and I knew I’d find out the depth of that dirt, the more I got involved. But it turns out I don’t have the heart for it. I want to get out before it sucks away my soul.”

  “Okay. That I get.” He took another massive handful of popcorn and fed a few kernels into his mouth. “This stuff is amazing, by the way. Where did you say it came from?”

  “Down the shore—in New Jersey. When I was home for the holidays, I went down to the boardwalk in Ocean City and bought a couple of buckets. I gave one to Leo and Quinn, and I kept this one for myself.” I munched on some of the sugary goodness, humming in appreciation. “It’s like crack, isn’t it? Once you start eating it, you can’t stop.”

  “Yeah, it’s addictive.” Gideon brushed off his hands on the sheet. “So if you’re getting out of politics, where will you go?”

  “I’m not certain,” I admitted. “I double majored in college, so I have degrees in both political science and public relations. I have options, just not sure yet where they’ll take me. But I have a little more direction now than I did last week. Zelda—the one who introduced us—came up with an intriguing possibility, and I’m looking into it.”

  He arched a brow. “Care to elaborate?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. I mean . . .” I coughed. “No. If we end up running into each other at Leo and Quinn’s wedding or something, I’ll update you then. But at the moment, I don’t want to jinx anything. And it might end up to be a dead-end.”

  “Ah. That’s fair.” Gideon stared beyond me, his gaze on the door, and I wondered if he was getting ready to make his escape. Although I’d been waiting for him to leave since we’d finished having sex, a twinge of regret surprised and dismayed me.

  That was why, then, I reached for the bucket of popcorn between us and replaced the lid. “Geez, if I keep eating this, I’ll never get to sleep.” I twisted to check the clock on the bedside table. “And it’s close to three in the morning. Jesus, I need to get some sleep. I have to check out of the hotel by eleven and drive back to DC. I don’t want to be a zombie on the road.”

  “Oh.” Gideon seemed to be taken aback. “Yeah, that’s true. I need to get to my condo. It’s late. Or early.” He leaned over to reach for his boxers and pants, giving me a lovely parting shot of that sculpted ass. “Guess it’s time for me to do the walk of shame and hope I can find a taxi.”

  “I don’t think it’s a legit walk of shame if it’s still dark,” I decided. “That term only applies if you’re doing the walking in the daylight, in the same clothes you had on the night before. For you, it’s just heading home.” I hesitated and then corrected myself. “Heading to the condo, because it’s not home for you, is it? But your new place, your farm—that’s going to be home for you.”

  “I hope so.” A wistfulness passed quickly over his face and was gone before I could be sure I’d really seen it. “
Anyway . . .” He dressed quickly and yet methodically, his movements reminding me that this man performed with amazing grace on the football field. I had to admit, despite my no athlete rule, there was just something about a quarterback.

  Once he had on his clothes, Gideon reached for the coat he’d tossed onto the chair earlier. He didn’t put it on, just draped it over his arm.

  “Well.” He swallowed, and I could feel the awkwardness roll in like a fog over a valley.

  “This is the part of the evening where we say thanks for a good time. It was a blast.” I stood on my toes and touched my lips to his cheek, bristly with late-night beard. “I’m glad I met you, Gideon. If we happen to see each other again, I’d be happy to be your friend of convenience. You have a person to talk to at any event Leo and Quinn happen to invite both of us to attend. See that? Easy peasy.”

  “Easy,” he echoed. “All right, then.” He ducked his head and brushed a kiss over my lips, still swollen from his earlier ministrations. “I’m glad I met you, too, Sarah Jenkins. Maybe I’ll see you again some time.”

  “Good luck with your farm.” I stepped back and crossed my arms, pulling the neckline of the robe closed.

  “Good luck with your job search.” He turned the knob on the door and pulled it open. “Safe travels home.”

  “You, too.”

  He hesitated for the briefest of moments, and then he stepped through the doorway and into the hall. The heavy door closed behind him, and he was gone.

  Bleary-eyed and somehow heavy-hearted, I untied the robe, letting it drop to the floor, and climbed into bed. I burrowed into the pillows and dropped into an immediate, deep sleep.

  And if I sniffed the sheets for one last whiff of Gideon Maynard, there was no one to notice but me.

  5

  Four Months Later

  Sarah

  “Sarah Jenkins, you are undeniably the most beautiful woman at this wedding.”

  I laughed in appreciation as Danny Taylor dropped into the chair next to me. Leo’s middle brother—the one just above him in the family of boys—grinned at me, frank admiration in his eyes.

  “And you, Danny Taylor, are the biggest flirt—not just at this wedding, but ever.” I made a face at him. “Also, you’re lying. Your new sister-in-law is the bride, which means she’s definitely the most beautiful.” I paused. “And Zelda Porter is here, which automatically bumps me down a couple of rungs.”

  “Zelda’s gorgeous, sure, and of course, Quinn looks amazing,” Danny agreed. “But neither of them is single. Quinn and Leo are officially hitched now, and Zelda’s been with Eli Tucker for years now.”

  “So you’re assuming I’m still single?” I raised one eyebrow at him, teasing. “Thanks a lot, Danny.”

  “It’s a compliment,” he assured me. “You’re like me. We’re both lone wolves, too smart to get tangled up in some messy relationship.” He hooked his thumb at his chest. “I’m the last single Taylor boy, you know.”

  This wasn’t news. The oldest Taylor brother, Simon, had married his long-time girlfriend Justine last year, and I hadn’t missed the adorable baby bump his new wife was proudly sporting. With Leo most definitely off the market, that left only Danny as the bachelor.

  “Hmmm. You mean there isn’t some lucky lady waiting in the wings to nab you?” I reached across to pat his hand. “Someone who’s ready to reel in the last single Taylor?”

  “God, I hope not,” he answered fervently. “Pretty sure Simon and Leo got all the commitment genes in the family. That left all the fun stuff for me.” He mock leered at me. “Want to enjoy some of that fun stuff, baby?”

  I laughed. Danny’s charm for me lay in the fact that he was safe and off-limits. Yes, like both of his brothers, he was hunky and nearly irresistible, with that magnetism that seemed to be part of the Taylor genetic scheme. But unfortunately, there was a certain ick factor to the idea of sleeping with two men who were brothers. A girl had to have some standards, after all.

  The jitterbug number that had drawn everyone to the dance floor ended, and the DJ followed it up with a slower song. Danny winked at me and held out a hand.

  “Care to dance, Ms. Jenkins?”

  I fluttered my eyelids. “Oh, I’m very honored, Mr. Taylor. Thanks for not leaving me as a wallflower.”

  I slid my fingers into his and allowed him to lead me onto the dance floor. As we swayed, occasionally chatting and laughing, I let my gaze wander over the other guests. I recognized many of the people who’d been invited to witness Leo and Quinn’s vows, though some weren’t familiar. There were old friends from high school, as well as others I assumed were college classmates.

  And then there were the football players. The Richmond Rebels were a definite presence, and although they were friendly as they interacted with the rest of us, there wasn’t any doubt that these guys were a team. They’d taken over a bunch of tables in a corner of the tent, and loud laughter erupted over there regularly.

  The one exception to the team unity was, of course, Gideon Maynard. The quarterback had been camped out over near the bar since the reception had begun. I’d done my best to avoid looking at him all night—actually, I’d been trying to ignore his existence since he’d walked past me at the ceremony itself. At the sight of the man who’d rocked my world for one night a few months back, my heart had begun to pound, and my mouth had gone dry. Damn, but I’d forgotten how incredible he looked in a suit. Sadly, I had not forgotten that he looked even better when that suit was crumpled up on the floor next to a bed.

  Because we’d parted on good terms and we’d both gone into that night knowing what to expect, I’d tried to catch his eye and smile when Gideon had made his way down the aisle before the service had started. But his gaze was remote and icy, and it had slid over me without a flicker of recognition as he’d taken a seat next to Corey Iverson, two rows ahead of me.

  If I were to be honest with myself, that had stung. I hadn’t coerced Gideon into sex. I’d invited him, sure, but I hadn’t forced him to say yes. No one had twisted his arm.

  As I contemplated him now, slouched on a chair not far from the bar area, I admitted that over the past couple of weeks, I’d done something I almost never did: I’d allowed myself to build up expectations about this weekend. I’d wondered what Gideon would say when we met again, and I’d fantasized that this time, he might be the one suggesting we spend the night together. When I was being a tad more realistic, I’d imagined that he’d greet me with a hug or at least a wink. I’d never considered that he might pretend that night hadn’t happened.

  “Um . . . Sarah? You okay?” Danny leaned back, frowning down at me.

  “Yeah, of course.” I gave myself a mental shake and a stern warning to forget Gideon Maynard existed. “I’m sorry. I guess I was zoning.”

  “No problem—although usually when a woman’s in my arms, it’s me she’s thinking about. I have a strange feeling that’s not the case right now.”

  There was no way in hell that I was going to come clean with Danny Taylor about who’d been taking up space in my head. Instead, I laughed and pinched the back of his neck, where my hands were joined just above the collar of his shirt.

  “Someday, Danny, my boy, a woman’s going to come along and knock you on your ass. She’s going to have you by the balls, and you’re going to love every minute.” I paused. “I just hope I’m around to see it happen.”

  “Well, you won’t be, because it’s not going to,” Danny answered darkly. “Never going to happen, my friend. I’m not made that way. There’s not a woman alive who’s worth that kind of trauma.” He glanced down at me before adding belatedly, “No offense to you.”

  “None taken,” I assured him. “You talk big, but it’s going to happen.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Danny executed a sudden turn, swirling me until I giggled and hid my face against his shoulder to keep from getting too dizzy. “Speaking of you being around, I hear you’re not going to be. Quinn told me you’re moving to Californi
a. Following in her footsteps.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Yes and no. I am moving to San Francisco, but I’m not following in Quinn’s footsteps.”

  “You’re going to work for the Crockers, right? Just like she did?” Danny cocked his head.

  “Yes, but it’s totally different. Quinn went out there as a writer on a temporary basis, to help Kara and Allan finish their book. I’m going to work in PR for their non-profit—and it’s a permanent position.”

  “Eh.” He shrugged. “Potato, potahto. Apparently, it’s what Leo’s women do. They flee to the West Coast to nurse their broken hearts and find themselves.” He put air quotes around the phrase.

  I rolled my eyes. “First of all, I’m not one of Leo’s women. I’m his friend, and Quinn’s, too. Leo and I dated briefly a long time ago. I promise I don’t have a broken heart or a need to find myself. I just want a new job and a fresh start away from politics and Washington.”

  “Okay, okay.” The song ended, and Danny stepped back, holding up his hands. “Don’t get prickly on me. I was just asking.”

  “And I’m just telling.” I ran my hands down over the front of my dress. “Now don’t look that way, but there’s a super-hot chick on your six. She’s been checking you out the whole time we were dancing. You should go over and say hello. Make her night.”

  “I hope she doesn’t turn out to be one of my cousins.” Danny gave me mock-horrified eyes, but he slowly and oh-so-subtly glanced behind him. “Score. I’ve never seen her before in my life.” He straightened his tie and waggled his eyebrows at me. “Time to put the Danny Taylor moves to work.”

  “Good luck,” I called, but he was already turning around and winding his way across the dance floor. Shaking my head, I walked back toward my seat, thinking that what I needed most at the moment was an icy-cold beer. A beach wedding was a romantic notion, and I understood completely why Leo and Quinn had chosen to have both the ceremony and the reception on this Ocean City beach, but even now, in late spring, it was pretty damn warm, especially here in the tent.