Until You

by Janis Reams Hudson

  His eyes, those wild blue eyes, pierced her. “Is it?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded. “You know it is.”

  “Look.” He sighed and ran his splayed fingers through his hair. “Yes, I came here looking for Ben. But dammit, Anna, something else is going on here between you and me. Or it was until I blew it. I’m sorry for that. More sorry than you’ll ever know.”

  “You’re sorry you kissed me?”

  “Not for a minute.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “But it seems you are. That’s what I’m sorry about.”

  It would be best for both of them if she let him think she was sorry he’d kissed her, but Anna didn’t have it in her to let the lie live. “I’m not sorry, Gavin.”

  Slowly Gavin pulled his hands from his pockets. “You’re not?”

  Gathering every ounce of courage she could find, Anna shook her head.

  Easy, Gavin cautioned himself. He had to go easy. When what he wanted to do was grab her up in his arms and kiss her again. “Then what’s wrong?” He couldn’t keep himself from slipping his arms around her.

  When he moved to pull her close, she wrenched away. “Don’t,” came from her lips in a panicked whisper.

  She might as well have slapped him. Pride demanded that he turn and walk away. If she didn’t want his touch, fine. He wouldn’t bother her with it again.

  But other emotions, the ones that had weakened his knees the night before when he’d kissed her, held him firm. Demanded that he not give up so easily what they’d shared. “Don’t what?” He tried to keep the nerves from his voice. “Don’t touch you?”

  She closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. When she opened them again, she refused to meet his gaze. “Under the circumstances, I think that would be best.”

  Sometime during the last few seconds it had become vital for Gavin that he not let her push him away so easily. Not let her push him away at all. Didn’t she know? Didn’t she have any idea how rare it was for two people to experience what they’d experienced last night when they’d kissed? How could she turn away from that?

  “To hell with circumstances.” Fear came out in his voice as anger. “Best for who?”

  “For both of us.”

  Her face paled. He was sorry for that, but he wasn’t going to back off. “That’s bull and you know it,” he told her. “This is what’s best.” He snared her arm and pulled her to his chest. Her eyes flew wide. She opened her mouth. He swallowed whatever protest she might have voiced by the simple, gratifying method of covering her mouth with his.

  The whimper that came from her throat might have caused him a moment’s hesitation except that he recognized that it was not a sound of protest. It was an expression of need, of want, of surrender. He tasted it on her lips and tongue, felt it in the way she melted against him almost instantly. Felt it, all of it, inside himself. This was right. This was the way they belonged—together, body to body, mouth to mouth, heart to heart.

  The realization shook him. But not enough for him to let go of her.

  The kiss and all it meant, all that it made her want, shook Anna. More than enough to have her tear her mouth free and gasp for air, for sanity.

  Gavin wasn’t having it. As if her mouth were a magnet, his lips followed, reaching again for hers.

  “No,” she cried, pushing on his chest with both hands. “Don’t do this.”

  He released her so quickly that she stumbled backward against the kitchen counter.

  “Don’t what?” he demanded. “Don’t kiss you? Don’t want you? The kissing I can control if I have to. The wanting I can’t. It’s not something I can just turn on and off. I don’t want to turn it off. I don’t want to stop wanting you. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same, because we both know you’d be lying, and you’re a lousy liar, Anna.”

  “It doesn’t matter what either one of us feels,” she cried.

  “The hell it doesn’t. It’s the only thing that matters.”

  “Don’t swear at me, Gavin Marshall, just don’t you swear at me.”

  “Then don’t try to convince me you weren’t kissing me back just then, and loving it every bit as much as I was.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she repeated, her heart breaking. “Gavin, you’re leaving. Any day you’ll pack up that ratty duffel bag of yours and take yourself out of here. None of this will matter then. You’ll leave me the way everyone leaves me. My parents, my brother. Every time I let someone get close to me they leave. I can’t even keep the same plumber for longer than a year,” she cried. “So what’s the point?”

  Her words shouldn’t have surprised him. Didn’t, really. She was right, he would leave. But the emotion in her voice, the pain he heard, twisted in his chest like a knife sunk in to the hilt. “Yes, I’ll have to leave soon. I have a career, responsibilities to other people, to myself. Is that supposed to mean that we just—what? Turn our backs on whatever this is that’s happening between us and pretend it doesn’t exist? Not even give it a chance, give us a chance to enjoy each other while we can?”

  “A chance,” she said woodenly, turning away from him at the ding of the microwave.

  “Is that what you want?” He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her around until she faced him. “Promises? Some sort of guarantee that everything will work out? You want me to tell you I love you?”

  “Not unless you mean it.”

  “I won’t say it—wouldn’t—unless I mean it. I can’t say it to you because I just don’t know,” he said earnestly. “I’ve never been in love before. Maybe that’s what all this is leading to, but how can we tell if we don’t give it a chance? Give us a chance? For crying out loud, Anna, we’ve known each other barely two weeks.”

  Two weeks? It seemed, to Anna, like a lifetime, as though he’d always been there. Except that she could recall all too clearly how empty her world had been before he’d barged in with his wild blue eyes and his smile that took her breath away. She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. Two weeks. She’d only known him two weeks. “You make me feel foolish.”

  “I never meant—”

  “No, you’re right. We barely know each other.” So maybe, she thought with a debilitating combination of hope and dread, maybe she wasn’t really in love with him at all. Maybe she was merely infatuated.

  Thoughtful now, she turned back to the microwave and removed the potatoes. After wrapping them in foil and setting them aside, she squared her shoulders and faced Gavin.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been overreacting, acting like a fool.”

  “Ah, come on, now...” He reached for her.

  Anna braced her hands against his chest. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready to take up where we left off last night.”

  Gavin sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m trying to rush things.” He raised his head and gave her a crooked smile. “What do you say we just take it slow and see what our guts tell us?” His smile widened. “My gut’s telling me we could make beautiful music together.”

  Anna groaned at the atrocious pun, then let out a chuckle as she stepped back. “That’s terrible. I think your gut’s telling you it hasn’t been fed lately. That,” she said, returning his smile, “I’m willing to do something about.”

  As she turned away to start dinner, Gavin felt a wave of panic threaten to swamp him. He’d just agreed—suggested, damn his hide—that they would slow things down between them. But she was right, he would have to leave soon. How were they supposed to know if this thing between them was as powerful as he thought it was if they didn’t give it a chance? And they were running out of time.

  But then, maybe he was in this alone. Maybe she didn’t feel what he felt, that sharp kick in the gut when he looked into her eyes or heard her laugh, or watched her frown.

  He couldn’t leave her without knowing if what he felt was real. If she felt it, too. This was too important.

  Sorry, Anna, but it looks like I lied t
o both of us. I’m not going to pull back. I’m going to come after you with everything I’ve got. Because I have to know. I have to know if this is real.

  “You want to go where?”

  Gavin had expected the shock, the resistance. It had taken him all day after their talk last night to come up with the perfect way to keep Anna off balance. If it was calculating of him, so be it. He wanted her off balance. Wanted her so off balance that she fell directly into his arms. Only then would he know the truth.

  And if tonight didn’t throw her off enough to have her lowering her guard and letting him in, then he would at least be assured that he’d shown her a good time.

  “Frontier City,” he said with a smile. “It’s an amusement park up north of town.”

  Anna gave him a look of exasperation. “I know what and where it is. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

  Stunned was more like it, if he read her expression correctly. Stunned, and wary. Leery, even. “How many times have you been there?” he asked.

  “Been? To Frontier City? Me?”

  “No, I’m talking to the dog across the street. Yes, you.”

  “There’s no need for sarcasm.”

  God, he loved it when she got all prim and prissy.

  “I’ve never been,” she stated rather proudly.

  “That’s what I figured,” he said with a laugh.

  “And why,” she asked, “did you figure it?”

  “Because you never do anything just for fun. That’s what tonight is for. Just for fun.”

  She smiled then, slowly, her eyes lighting. “Will I have as much fun as flying a kite?”

  “Guaranteed.”

  “Then just let me change clothes, and I’ll be ready to go.”

  “Wear jeans,” he called as she headed for the bedroom.

  She put on jeans, sneakers and a short-sleeved summer sweater tucked in at the waist. She was ready to go in ten minutes.

  What she was not ready for, when they reached the garage, was the mode of transportation he’d selected.

  “You won’t need your purse,” he told her.

  She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Why not?”

  “Number one, you don’t want to be lugging it around all evening. Number two, we’re taking the Harley.”

  “Not on your life.”

  Gavin tilted his head and studied her. “You’ve never ridden it.” No need to ask. The truth was in her eyes.

  “With good reason,” she stated flatly.

  “Name one.”

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Says who?”

  “Everybody,” she said, waving an arm.

  “Name one authority that states, and backs up with facts, that riding a motorcycle is more dangerous than any other mode of transportation.”

  “I don’t have to name one. I can see for myself.”

  Gavin shook his head. “Of all the things you’ve faced in your life, I can’t believe you’re going to let something so ordinary as a motorcycle get the best of you.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not getting the best of me. And neither are you. We can take my car.”

  “Chicken?”

  “Sensible.”

  “Chicken. Come on,” he urged. “You’re the one who reminded us both that I’ll be leaving soon. And I will. I got an e-mail from Jerry this afternoon. Ben’s in Reno.”

  Anna grappled with mixed feelings. She wanted Ben to get away from the gambling. She wanted to see him, talk to him. But she wasn’t ready for Gavin to leave yet. “Is he coming home?”

  “That’s my guess. He knows I’m looking for him now, but he doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “Maybe he’ll go back to L.A.”

  Gavin shook his head, his eyes somber. “He was losing all night last night at the craps tables. He’s going to come here for money. Don’t let him ruin this one night for us. He’ll get here when he gets here. Ride with me, Anna.”

  Anna shivered. The way he said it—Ride with me—his voice soft and husky, brought visions of pale bodies gleaming on dark sheets. Shocked at the images in her brain, she started to flatly refuse. Then she shocked herself again by saying, “All right But if you kill me on this thing, I promise I’ll come back to haunt you.”

  “Atta girl. I’ll even let you wear the helmet.”

  “Of course you will, since I’m sure the only reason you brought one is because they’re required in some states.”

  “You got that right.”

  Anna looked up at him, concern replacing humor in her eyes. “It doesn’t seem wise to take such a risk with your life as to ride a motorcycle without a helmet.”

  Gavin stroked her cheek with a thumb. “I suppose not, to someone who thinks she doesn’t believe in risks. I’m flattered that you’d worry for me. But I weigh the risk, and I chose, when I can, to have the wind in my hair. Helmets are too damn hot and heavy, as you’re about to find out.”

  At the reminder that she had actually agreed to ride that beast of a motorcycle, Anna’s mouth dried out. As Gavin slipped the helmet onto her head and fastened the chin strap, her hands started to shake. “I’m, uh, not too sure about this.”

  Since he happened to have both hands beneath her chin just then, he used them to tilt her head up until she met his gaze. She expected to see laughter in his eyes, but it wasn’t there. Only a tenderness that made her heart ache.

  “Trust me, Anna,” he said quietly. “I would never, ever, do anything to hurt you.”

  He wouldn’t have kissed her on the lips, or so he told himself, but the helmet was so big on her that it nearly covered her cheeks.

  Before he kissed her the way he wanted to—and ran the risk of really scaring her—he turned and mounted the Harley. With a hand held out to her, he said, “Come on. Swing your leg over and let’s go have some fun.”

  The seat was higher and wider than it looked. By the time Anna was mounted behind Gavin she was out of breath.

  “Put your feet here, and here,” he instructed. “Now comes the fun part—snuggle right up against my back and wrap your arms around me.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Why, Anna Collins.” He grinned at her over his shoulder. “You made another joke.”

  She pursed her lips. “Did I?”

  Gavin laughed. “I don’t have a bike of my own these days. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone on behind me. You really do need to hang on,” he added.

  She knew that. She was afraid enough of riding on the back of this testosterone-pumped bicycle that she had every intention of holding on tight. She just wished that it didn’t feel so wonderful to slip her arms around him and press herself against his broad back.

  When he started the engine it rumbled to life with that throaty growl peculiar to the Harley-Davidson motorcycle. As Ben had explained to her time and again, there was no other sound quite like it.

  There was also, to Anna’s way of thinking, nothing quite like feeling all that power come to life beneath her. The vibration shot through to her core, at once terrifying her and thrilling her.

  Then the motorcycle moved, and she squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around Gavin as tightly as she could.

  She was sure she was going to die.

  Her heart had trouble keeping a steady rhythm for the first couple of miles. Long before they hit the interstate, however, she realized she was not going to die. There was something hedonistic about sitting astride that much power. Like riding the back of a sleek jungle cat, its wildness held in check by the barest of threads and the will of the man in front of her.

  Yes. Heady. Wild. Erotic.

  And Gavin was right. The helmet was uncomfortably hot and incredibly heavy. Sweat stung her scalp, and her neck was starting to ache. But Anna knew she didn’t have the nerve to take it off to relieve the ache and let the wind have her hair.

  It was barely six-thirty when they reached the parking lot of Frontier City. The sun w
as still high and hot. When Gavin killed the engine and Anna climbed off the back of the beast, her legs wobbled.

  “Easy does it,” he said, but he saw the excitement in her eyes and knew she’d loved the ride. Maybe almost as much as he’d enjoyed feeling her wrapped around his back like skin over muscle. Thank you Mr. Harley and Mr. Davidson.

  It was a night of magic. The park was crowded with families, teenagers on the loose, couples on dates. People everywhere, of every possible description, laughing, eating, riding the rides, having fun. Gavin pulled Anna right into the thick of it.

  At an especially shrill shriek, they looked across a small pond to see a teenage girl falling from a tall tower, nothing between her and certain death but a bungee cord.

  “The Geronimo Skycoaster.”

  “I’m not doing that.” Anna took a step back from the wooden railing surrounding the pond. “I’m not doing that.”

  Gavin slung his arm around her shoulders and laughed. “Me neither. People say I’m crazy, but nobody’s ever called me insane. Ah, but look at that,” he said, pointing. “Did you say you were hot?”

  Anna followed the direction of his pointing finger to see what looked like a hollowed-out log filled with people come speeding down a rail into the pond, water flying everywhere, raining down on the riders. “Uh, Gavin...”

  “Come on. I do believe the Log Flume is calling our name.”

  And so it began. As Anna stepped into the “log” and Gavin slipped in behind her, she kept reminding herself of Donna’s words. Enjoy the ride while you can. Tonight Anna intended to take that advice literally. Even if it killed her.

  It didn’t kill her. It was fun.

  The ride took them around the carousel, through an admittedly fake-looking wilderness area, and through a covered bridge. Anna was just starting to relax when, in front of her, the ground dropped away. She’d all but forgotten the plunge into the water at the end of the ride. She screamed all the way down, with Gavin’s laughter in her ears. She screamed again when they hit the water and it spewed up and rained down on them. When the car pulled to a slow stop at the end of the ride a moment later, her knees were so weak that Gavin had to help her out.