Say Yes

by Lori Foster

  She made a face with each drink she took, until finally the glass was empty again. She obviously wasn’t used to drinking and didn’t care for the taste. He didn’t want her flat-out drunk, only relaxed. So he snatched up the bottle before she could take it, then pried the empty glass from her hands.

  “I understand why you’re bitter, Sara, but good marriages do exist.”

  Flopping back against the couch, she rolled her eyes, then directed her gaze at him. She was sprawled against his side, effectively caught in the curve of his arm. She crossed her legs and swung one small foot. Her words were low and cynical. “Sure they do. Maybe one out of every hundred. And even those aren’t really happy, they’re just making do. I don’t like the odds. Now, a cute little puppy—I could handle that. You make certain they have food and water, clean paper to piddle on, and you can cuddle with them all you want. Done. There’s nothing else to it. You love them and they love you. Unconditionally.”

  It was such a change in attitude for her, he was temporarily thwarted. He wanted to get married, dammit, wanted to settle down for the first time in his life, and now the woman he wanted was dead set against marriage. After all the empty relationships he’d had, he didn’t intend to get involved in another. He’d just have to find a way to put Sara back on the straight and narrow.

  A good example couldn’t hurt. “My parents have been happily married for forty years.”

  A strange look crossed her face, and her smile wobbled.

  “What?” Gavin felt a little uncomfortable with her intense study. She seemed to be contemplating the wonders of the world. “Sara?”

  She shook her head, and one lock of curly dark hair fell across her eyes. “Nothing. I just hadn’t thought of you that way.”

  He smoothed the hair back behind her ear, enjoying the intimate contact, the tender touching. It beat the hell out of a handshake any day.

  He coasted his fingertips over her fine, soft skin, then continued to cup her cheek. He liked the feel of her, warm and soft and so damn feminine. He liked having her so close and comfortable with him. He could build on that. Friendship was a great start to deeper things. “What way, Sara?”

  “You know. With a family.”

  “Oh?” He touched her ear and the curve of her chin, the sensitive skin beneath it. “You thought I was found under a rock?”

  She smiled. “No.”

  “So how did you think of me?”

  She gave his simple question a great deal of consideration before answering. “The eligible bachelor. A playboy, maybe. But definitely not a family guy.” She frowned, then snuggled against his palm. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  She looked very content, curled up by his side. He wanted to kiss her again, but held himself back. He wanted her to know about his family. He wanted her to meet his family. “No brothers. Three sisters. All older than me.”

  She giggled, something he’d never heard her do before. Usually her laughs were deep and throaty and full, not teasing. “You were the baby?”

  He tried to look indignant and failed. “That’s right. And it was pure hell fighting for any rights in that house. Do you have any idea how much time three teenage girls can spend in a bathroom?”

  “No.” She looked away, then reached up to cover his hand with her own. “I was an only child.”

  “Hey.” The way Sara pouted was more enticing than a hot kiss. Damn, he hurt with lust. He looked away from that tempting mouth and stared at her ear instead. It was a cute ear, but it didn’t send him into a frenzy of lust. “I’ll gladly give you my siblings. All three of them.” He forced a laugh. “Actually they’d love you. So would my mother.”

  “I don’t know, Gavin. My own mom isn’t all that fond of me.”

  He felt something freeze inside him at the sincerity in her eyes. Lust was forgotten. “That can’t be true.”

  She nodded her head in sharp response. “Yes, it is. She and my dad fought all the time. They were divorced, with joint custody, but they both had busy lives and I…well, I guess I just interfered.”

  Frowning, Gavin asked, “So you got shuffled between the two of them?”

  “Yeah. Dad kept me more than Mom, but even then, it was never for more than a few months. But at least he tried. Once, he even bought me a puppy, to keep me company while he was gone to work, he said. But then a few weeks later, I had to leave because he got a new girlfriend, and Mom had a fit about the dog and…and Dad gave it to a guy who owned a farm. The pup had plenty of room to run around and play, he said.”

  Oh God. Gavin could feel her pain, could see it in her eyes. He couldn’t begin to imagine how a small child, especially one as tenderhearted and sweet as Sara, might have reacted to such a blow. She must have been crushed.

  So many things were starting to make sense. He said very quietly, his eyes on her face, “You really cared about the dog, didn’t you?”

  She wouldn’t look at him. “Of course I did. He was a cute little thing, always running by my side, sleeping in my bed at night. We’d take long walks together, and play together down by the stream. I loved him. But what was really awful was that he loved me, too. He thought I’d always be there for him, but there wasn’t anything I could do when Dad took him away. I begged, but Mom only offered to let me get a fish.” She peered up at him. “Fish aren’t nearly as messy, you know. But they are pretty hard to cuddle.”

  He’d never guessed Sara might have had a less than perfect upbringing. She was always so filled with optimism. He’d just assumed, with her so determined to marry, that she’d come from a background similar to his. But he realized now her need for a marriage, a home, even a pet, wasn’t because she’d seen the wonderful side of that life, but because she hadn’t. Ever. She’d been shuffled around and she wanted now to find some stability.

  He supposed it made sense, the way she’d reacted to her upbringing. His parents had shown him the better side to marriage, his sisters, too. But still, when they’d all wanted to see him happily settled, he’d rebelled. They wanted him to do one thing, so he fought to do another. It was a response borne more of stubbornness than logic, but being the only son in a family of females had bred that stubbornness. Fighting for your independence in the midst of a gaggle of coddlers was a hard habit to break.

  “Is that why you were so anxious to get married? You wanted a home of your own?”

  Without his encouragement, she raised her small hand and smoothed it over his chest, tangling her fingers in his body hair. The wine had helped to lower her inhibitions, and she seemed very intent on exploring the different textures of his body. She apparently enjoyed touching him, feeling him. And heaven knew, he wouldn’t discourage her from it. But now her gestures had new significance. He wondered how often, if ever, she’d been coddled and held.

  Her gaze came up to meet with his, and he caught his breath. Damn, she was so sexy, and she didn’t seem at all aware of it.

  “I think I wanted to prove to my parents how easy it could have been if they’d only tried. Neither of them spent near the energy on their relationship that they gave to their jobs.”

  They evidently hadn’t spent much energy on their daughter, either. Gavin leaned down and kissed her forehead, wanting to crush her close, but also wanting her to continue talking. “Sara…I understand how you must have felt. But trying to prove a point to your parents isn’t a good reason to marry the wrong person.”

  “I know. Ted was nothing like a pet. Well, maybe a whiskery little rat.” Her brow puckered as she considered that, then qualified, “One with mange.”

  She said it so seriously, and he agreed so completely, Gavin couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again. He meant it as a tender touch, a form of teasing comfort, but Sara didn’t cooperate. She cupped his face in her hands and licked over his lips, making small, soft sounds deep in her throat that drove him crazy.

  He loved her enthusiasm, but he wanted so much more. “Sara…”

  “You taste so good, Gavin. I knew
you would.”

  Oh Lord, he’d put himself in a hell of a position.

  He knew it was the wine and her own vulnerability making her speak so boldly. Sara was generally rather reserved and circumspect in her behavior. But then, she’d been engaged, and he knew she would never have betrayed a commitment.

  He’d never understood why the house meant so much to her. Now he did. It symbolized all the things she hadn’t had as a child. And he had built it for her. His chest puffed up and he felt like crowing. Surely that had to count for something in her eyes.

  Her soft hands moved across his shoulders, his chest…his belly. He caught his breath and heard her laugh. Then he caught her hands. Much more of that and he’d forget his good intentions.

  “You’re awfully hairy,” she whispered. “Probably not as hairy as a puppy, though. And you smell much better than a dog would.”

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled at him, their noses only half an inch apart, and her eyes nearly crossed. He shook his head, thoroughly exasperated with her, but mostly with himself. He’d had such grand plans, self-centered plans, and now he’d have to alter them a bit to give her the time she needed. He felt the weight of responsibility, and knew he’d never do anything to hurt her.

  As he came to a few decisions, he watched her sway in her seat. She seemed to be trying to keep him in focus. “You’re awfully serious, Gavin.”

  “And you’re awfully drunk. You sure as hell can’t hold your liquor.”

  “I know.” She didn’t sound sorry, only accepting. “Ted used to say I was too prissy. It irritated him that I wouldn’t drink with him. But I knew if I did, he’d take advantage of me.”

  He wished Ted was here now. He wished he’d gone to see him six weeks ago, when he’d first cheated on Sara and hurt her. He hadn’t then because he didn’t want it to seem as though he’d coerced her final decision in any way. If she left Ted, it had to be because she chose to, not because he made her feel she should.

  Pushing her back enough so he could catch his breath, Gavin asked, “Aren’t you worried I’ll take advantage of you?”

  “No. Unfortunately,” she said, in a mournful voice, “you’re too honorable for that.” Then she gave him a slow, exaggerated wink. “But maybe if you drink enough, I could take advantage of you?”

  She swayed again as she said it, and nearly fell off the couch. Gavin caught her, then held her upright. “You’d like that, would you?”

  “Oh, yes.” She pushed his hands away and curled close again, snuggling the side of her face against his chest. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’ve fantasized about you.”

  The air squeezed out of his lungs. He gasped and choked before he could manage to say, “Come again?”

  Either she didn’t notice his shock, or she chose to ignore it. “I think about what it would be like with you.” She peeked up at him. “You know. Intimately. I was thinking about you just before the storm hit and made me leave my bath. They were very nice thoughts, Gavin.”

  “Ah, Sara…” He sounded like he might strangle on his own tongue.

  She sighed. “Karen would tell me all sorts of private things, boasting, you know, and I’d want to smack her because she was living my fantasies.”

  Damn, he was hard. Really, really hard. It seemed every time he got his libido under control, she’d say something, or do something, or smile—Lord, he loved her smile—and then his body would react. He stayed semierect around her, though she was naive enough not to notice. But Karen had. He wondered if that was why she’d shared intimate details with Sara, to stake a claim of sorts. He shook his head. None of that mattered now, but the small woman curled against him deserved his better judgment, not his lust, which meant he couldn’t do a damn thing about the opportunity presenting itself.

  He muttered a curse and she heard him. Peering up to see his face, she traced his mouth with her finger and he swallowed hard. She looked so…ready. Damn, did she look ready.

  And physically she might be. But emotionally, he figured Sara had a long way to go before she would really trust him and accept his feelings for her. Right now, she didn’t seem to feel ready for anything more than a house pet. Damn, damn, double damn.

  “Sara…”

  “Don’t you want to know what my fantasies are?”

  “No!” She was trying to seduce him, and succeeding admirably. If sex was all he’d wanted, he’d be the luckiest man alive. But he wanted so much more with her. And allowing her to do something she’d regret tomorrow wouldn’t aid his case. It’d make him damn happy for one night, there was no question about that, but in the long run, he’d lose out.

  He held her at arm’s length, trying to convince himself of his own thoughts. “Sara, why don’t we talk about something else?”

  She pushed against his rigid arms, trying to get closer again. “But—”

  Her stomach growled, giving him the excuse to interrupt. “Are you hungry? What time did you eat dinner?” She continued to stare at him a moment, as if the change in topic had thrown her. Then she shrugged.

  “I haven’t eaten yet. I was too tired when I got home, and I just wanted to soak in the wonderful Jacuzzi tub you installed in my bathroom. But then the storm hit, and I knew I had to close the windows. And then you were here, so…”

  Images of her lounging in the spacious, tiled tub—naked and thinking of him—played havoc with his better intentions. A man could only take so much. He cleared his throat and tried to calm his racing heart. “Why were you so tired? A hard day?”

  “All my days have been hard lately. I’ve been working twelve-hour shifts during the week, then volunteering my weekends to the animal adoption center.”

  Gavin stared at her a moment before dropping his head into his hands. Wonderful. He’d been pouring wine down an exhausted, hungry woman. Then part of what she said really hit him. Twelve-hour shifts? He frowned at her, tilting her face up so he could better understand. “You’ve been putting in a lot of overtime?” She nodded, her eyelids drooping, and he asked, “Why?”

  A look of sadness came over her face, and she seemed ready to cry. Gavin vowed then and there never to let her drink again. He’d always turned to mush around weeping women, and with Sara, he felt particularly susceptible.

  “I love my house, Gavin.”

  She said it in a near wail, startling him. “Calm down, babe, and tell me what the problem is.”

  She threw her arms out, nearly slugging him in the eye. He ducked, then watched her cautiously in case she started to go off the couch again. “I can’t afford to stay here. I have to sell my beautiful house.”

  “What?” He tried to sound surprised because he wasn’t ready yet to admit to stealing her sign.

  She went on in a rush, making broad gestures with her hands. “I used most of my savings on the down payment. Ted was supposed to buy the furniture, and then pay half on all the monthly bills. The utilities, the groceries, the taxes, the insurance, the…”

  “I understand.” He rubbed his forehead, frustrated. The house was rather expensive for a single person. His was only slightly larger and he knew how expensive maintenance could be.

  He’d come to think of this house as Sara’s. Long before she’d actually moved in, he’d made it special for her, added little things, put in extras. He’d known she would love the tiled tub, and she had. He’d thought of her reaction as he installed the beveled glass mirrors. Everything in it, from the time she’d chosen the plans, had been picked specifically for her. The idea of anyone else living in it just didn’t feel right. It was almost…sacrilege. “There must be another solution besides selling.”

  “I’ve been trying to find one.” Sara twisted around in her seat until she faced him. Her sundress had hiked up to her thighs, and one strap hung loose down her pale, smooth shoulder. Her hair, always a little unruly, drooped over one eye. Gavin hid his grin. She looked ready to fall asleep on him, but first, she needed something to eat.

  “Come on
, Sara.” He hauled her to her feet, supporting her when she would have slumped back down again. “Let’s go scrounge you up some food.”

  The candle had formed a small pool of wax in the bottom of the wineglass, and Gavin picked that up to guide them through the darkened house. The air had gotten hot and muggy; his skin felt damp with sweat. Sara snatched up the wine bottle before they left the room.

  He led the way into the kitchen, hearing her hum beside him. “Am I going to find any other surprises in your kitchen cabinets?”

  She dropped to a kitchen chair, then shrugged. “Who knows? I can’t even remember where I’ve put everything.”

  “While I’m hunting up some food, why don’t you tell me just how short you are on making ends meet.” It was a personal question, but Sara didn’t seem to mind. She propped her head up with one fist and regarded him as he searched through the refrigerator.

  “It gets a little worse each month. I figure I can make it through the summer, then pffftt, I’m out of luck.”

  Gavin raised one brow. “Pffftt?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be flat broke.”

  “What about your family? They won’t help at all?”

  “Hah!”

  No. Her family didn’t sound like the type to pitch in. And Sara wasn’t the type to ask for help. She was an independent little thing. Several times when she’d been doing things to or for the house, he’d had to force her to let him help her. Ted hadn’t been anywhere around then, but he seldom was when work needed to be done and Gavin had enjoyed stepping in to fill the slot.

  He remembered when he’d gotten his first apartment. His parents and his sisters had all come over with donations, things ranging from furniture to food to cash. And they’d all helped to paint and arrange furniture and prepare the apartment for him to move in. But Sara had no one. He couldn’t imagine being so totally…alone.

  He looked at Sara. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared so serene, so accepting, he wanted to protect her, he wanted to declare himself. But it was too soon. He had to get her used to having him around more, had to give her time to adjust and get over her ridiculous prejudice against marriage.