Almost Just Friends

by Jill Shalvis

  Gavin watched him go, a muscle working in his jaw, but he did not go after him. There was a lot of healing that needed to happen there, she knew, but she also knew that the kind of chemistry and history those two had was worth fighting for. “Nice self-sabotage,” she said.

  Gavin shook his head at her. “Said the kettle to the pot. And I’m fine, I know what I’m doing.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.” And with that, he pivoted and strode into the crowded living room. The opposite way that CJ had gone.

  So he wasn’t going to fight for love. He’d never been much of a fighter. It’d always been easier for him to walk away. She got that. But she also got that some things were worth digging in for and holding on. At least in the movies anyway. She started after him, but could see him talking and laughing with a group of Emmitt’s fishing buddies. If he was going to put out the illusion of truly being okay, then she was going to have to let him.

  Cam slipped an arm around her. “I was thinking we could slip out for a bit.”

  She met his heated gaze and thought maybe it wasn’t just in the movies after all. “To do what?”

  “Anything you want.”

  “Still standing right here,” Winnie said. “Although I have no idea why. You kids be careful now, you hear?” And then she too vanished into the living room crowd.

  “Anything I want?” Piper repeated to Cam. “That’s a lot of power to just hand over.”

  He laughed. “Babe, the power’s always been yours.”

  Since she’d spent most of her life feeling as if it was the exact opposite, this sounded appealing. Very appealing.

  “Like that smile,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her, nudging her back against the pantry door.

  “Well, I did just realize that my siblings are finally fully functioning adults.” She slid her hands along his jaw, loving the feel of his several-day-old beard beneath her fingers. “And that I’m not needed right now.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. Maybe I need you.”

  She smiled. “How can I help you?”

  “I was thinking a few drinks, maybe some food. And”—he put his mouth to her ear—“me licking either one of those things off your body.”

  She actually quivered. “So what’s stopping you?”

  He picked her up and she locked her legs around his waist. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey off the counter, he handed it to her before walking them out the back door.

  She held on tight, laughing. “The party—”

  “No one will even notice we’re gone.” He was moving with her at a good pace. A man on a mission. “Besides,” he added, “you just agreed to my favorite meal.”

  “Which is what exactly?”

  “You.” They were moving down the dock toward his boat now.

  With another laugh, she forgot to be afraid of the water as he boarded with her. He took them below deck, setting her on the narrow galley counter.

  “Hey,” she said. “Do I look like the sort of girl who lets a guy lick whiskey off of her—” She gasped when he gently tipped the bottle a little, letting a few drops of the amber liquid hit her collarbone and throat. Then he lifted her up and licked it off, trailing his tongue up her neck to her ear, before taking the lobe between his teeth, making her moan.

  He smiled against her. “I’m going to take that as a hard yes.”

  PIPER WOKE AT what appeared to be dawn, which meant she’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep after she and Cam had ravished each other. And speaking of Cam, she found him with his head propped up by his hand, watching her sleep. “Oh, crap,” she said. “Was I snoring?”

  He smiled. “No.”

  “Drooling?”

  “Only a little.”

  He was kidding. Probably. Just in case, she swiped a hand over her mouth. “Why are you watching me sleep?”

  “When I’m stressed, you center me. I told you once before, you’re better than swimming the lake.”

  She took that for the compliment it was. “You don’t usually seem to give in to stress like the rest of us mere mortals.”

  “It’s not a productive emotion.”

  She felt her heart start to pound funny and sat up. “Why am I suddenly the one feeling stressed?”

  “These past few weeks have been incredibly important to me,” he said, sitting up too. “You’ve become incredibly important to me.”

  Yep, that was definitely stress making her heart thump in her ears. Stress, and something else. Something that curled through her in a terrifyingly good way. “Maybe it’s the orgasms.”

  He smiled. “The orgasms are amazing, but it’s more than that for me.”

  “More?”

  He ran a finger along her jaw, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “My unit’s being sent out, Piper.”

  Her heart seized. “Where? For how long?”

  He kept his gaze on hers. “Until the job is done. Word is maybe a week, maybe more.”

  He hadn’t said where, and she understood that he couldn’t. “When do you leave?”

  “Eighteen hundred.”

  “Tonight?” she squeaked.

  “Yes.”

  She nodded, trying to emulate his quiet calm. This was what he did, put life and limb on the line to protect and serve. And if he could do so with such courage and bravery, then she could do her best to give him the same. “And after? Your leave from the DEA might be over by then. Will you go directly back to the East Coast?”

  “If I have to. But it won’t be to stay.” He paused. “After losing Rowan, I realized something. I’ve moved every year or two for the Coast Guard, but I don’t want that anymore. I want to settle down. I want”—he gestured between them—“this to be more.”

  There went her heart again. “It was never meant to be more. You know that.”

  “I do. What I don’t know is if you still feel that way now.”

  She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “I feel things I didn’t want to feel.”

  He pulled her into him, entangled their legs. “Piper. Look at me.”

  She opened her eyes and met his. “There’s a lot of things I don’t know about those feelings,” she whispered.

  “Can you tell me what you do know?”

  “I know I want you.”

  “You’ve had me. Only a few hours ago, in fact,” he murmured on a small smile. “I’m sleeping in the wet spot. And you know what I mean.”

  Did she? The kick of her heart against her ribs certainly suggested she did, that she knew exactly what he wanted to hear. He wanted more. And he wanted to know if she did too. “And if your transfer doesn’t come through?”

  “Geography isn’t a hurdle. Not in my book. I can always leave the DEA and find something here. But I’m pretty sure they’ll transfer me.”

  “You’ve heard from them then?” she asked.

  “Not yet, but they said they intended to keep me, however they could. As for the Coast Guard, I was active duty for twelve years, and have two in the Reserve. I’ll be able to retire in two years.” He gave a small, dry smile. “Although I can’t tell if you’re more worried about my transfer not coming through, or that it will.”

  Yeah, her either. She’d planned on him being nothing more than the fun-time guy to have a little thing with. That’s what her bullet journal had him down as. And that shit was in ink, which meant it was gospel. She’d never have done it if she’d known he planned on sticking around. “You’d really retire?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve had my share of excitement. More than.” He paused. “So what are you afraid of?”

  Only everything, not the least of which was that he could read her like a damn book. She was no longer surprised to realize that he was much deeper and more complicated than she’d ever imagined. So yeah, she was scared. Scared to go deeper, and even more scared to lose him, as at the moment, he was the only sane thing in her world. “I’m not sure afraid is the right word.”

  “What is then?”

&
nbsp; Good question. What if he decided that if she couldn’t give that mysterious “more,” would he walk away? It wouldn’t be the first time. But unlike with Ry, she was in too deep with Cam to not get hurt if he did. Freaking out a little bit, she slipped out of bed, busying herself looking for her clothes, which she’d been stupid enough—and excited enough—to strew everywhere last night in her hurry to get him naked. “I’ve got to get to work by seven, sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  She glanced over at him still in the bed, the sheet sunk dangerously low on his hips. His hair was tousled, his stubble delicious, and he looked like the very best thing she’d ever seen. “It’s work,” she said. “I don’t have any control over that.”

  Cam slid out of the bed. “Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking, or keep me hanging while I’m gone?”

  Where was her other shoe? Her bra? Dammit. She stilled, eyes closed. He was going to go on a mission. It was his job, his life, and yet . . . he was probably being shipped out to a place like where her parents had been killed.

  He turned her to face him. He was holding her bra. “Playing games is unlike you, Piper. You’re one of the most direct women I’ve ever known. If you don’t want what I want, or if you’re not feeling anything, just tell me.”

  Look at him, way overestimating her emotional ability. Had he not met her? In any case, she was feeling a whole bunch, thank you very much. But their needs were complete opposites. She’d been planning on going out and getting the life she’d been waiting years to get, and he was looking to sink roots and settle down.

  If she gave in to what they had between them, it could mean compromising her life. Again.

  Footsteps sounded on the deck, and then someone was knocking on the latched door. “Cam?” came Gavin’s voice. “Piper’s with you, right?”

  Cam waited for her to hastily pull on the rest of her clothes before opening the door.

  “Hey,” her brother said. He took in Piper’s state of dishevelment and then Cam in just the sweatpants and expansive bare chest. “I’m interrupting.”

  “Yes,” Cam said at the exact same time Piper shook her head and said, “No.” Carefully avoiding looking at Cam, she shook her head again. “I’m going to work.”

  “I know,” Gavin said, still looking unsure, clearly guessing he’d caught them at a bad moment. “Jenna called, said she needed a ride and you weren’t picking up. She wanted me to make sure you weren’t . . . preoccupied, and not looking at your phone.”

  “I’m on my way out right now.” Piper grabbed her sweatshirt and accidentally made eye contact with Cam. She didn’t need a rocket scientist to tell her what he was thinking, that he was irritated because she was suppressing her feelings. And he’d be right.

  But that was her only defense. It was all she knew, and she wouldn’t apologize for that. She bit her lip. Okay, dammit, she would apologize. “Gavin, we need a minute.”

  When her brother was gone, she looked at Cam. “I’m sorry I’m so emotionally . . . challenged. I don’t mean to be playing a game or to lead you on. The truth is, I . . . like you. A lot. And I think we both know that’s more than a little terrifying for me, which I realize makes me a risk, and I’m sure, annoying as hell.”

  “You like me.” He paused. “A lot.”

  A small, disbelieving laugh escaped her. “Is that all you heard?”

  “No, but that was my favorite part.”

  “Good.” She went up on tiptoes and brushed a kiss to his lips. “Can we work on the more part?”

  His hands went to her hips and held her still as he took the kiss deeper and hotter. “Absolutely,” he said when he was done rendering her stupid.

  She kept her arms around him. “Good. Please be careful. Please come back in one piece.”

  “To you?”

  “To me. One piece,” she reiterated.

  He gave her another kiss that curled her toes, and when she got home from work twelve hours later, he was long gone.

  Chapter 26

  It was anyone’s guess as to which of their current mistakes had stopped by.

  A few days later, Gavin worked until late afternoon and then went for a run. He went hard around the lake, until his legs were quivery and rubbery, and then sat on the rocks facing the water, watching a thunderstorm move in. A raindrop hit him and then another. He didn’t care. He knew Piper still harbored nightmares in storms like this and he hated that for her. But he wasn’t afraid of storms.

  He was afraid of loss.

  And now that he’d looked into CJ’s eyes and seen the same sense of loss, loss he’d caused . . . Damn. He’d thought he’d created a shield to protect himself, that he’d be bullet-proof to more pain. But the truth was, life was fucking full of pain.

  Feeling sorry for himself, he walked back in the rain, showered, and then made breakfast for dinner. And since he hadn’t figured out how to make up with CJ, and Piper was still at work, it was just him and Winnie. And speaking of his pregnant sister, her little baby bump arrived before she did as she came into the kitchen. She had a toolbelt slung around her hips just below her growing tummy, walking and watching a YouTube video on how to repair drywall at the same time.

  “Yum,” she said, propping her phone up on the napkin holder, the one made of popsicle sticks, which they’d been using since Winnie had made it in kindergarten for Piper. She then began to pour syrup all over the waffles.

  Gavin took the syrup from her.

  “Hey! The Bean loves syrup.”

  “Does the Bean love diabetes?”

  “The doc says I’m fine, although my jeans are starting to disagree.” She ate for a few minutes, putting away a shocking amount of food. Finally sated, she leaned back, hands on her belly. “The place is looking good, right?”

  “Really good.”

  “So what’s our next step?”

  “You keep growing a baby.”

  “Yes, but I really want to keep helping around here too,” she said.

  “You’re not exactly quick on your feet right now.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I’m slow?”

  “No,” he said carefully. “You’re just . . . slower than you used to be.”

  “And now I’m fat?”

  Gavin sighed. “You know, I’m starting to understand everything we ever put Piper through.”

  She grimaced, and he had to laugh. “Just wait until the Bean pulls even a fraction of the shit you’ve pulled.” He stood. “I’m going back to work, I’m planning on finishing up the business plan this week.”

  “Which we’ll use to convince Piper to start up the B and B, right?”

  “Right,” he said, and hoped that was even possible. It wouldn’t be easy. “She still wants to go back to school.”

  “I know.”

  “She deserves that, Win. So much.”

  “I know that too. I told you, I tried to get us a loan to buy her out.”

  “I know, but I’m not giving up. I’m working on an option that might pan out. Has to pan out. Because Piper’s never failed us, not once.”

  Winnie nodded. “So let’s not fail her either.”

  “We won’t.”

  Winnie leaned forward. “So tell me about this option that might pan out.”

  Gavin started to tell her his thoughts when Winnie’s phone buzzed with an incoming text, which she read and froze.

  “What?” Gavin asked.

  “It’s Jenna. She and Piper just left the scene of a horrific car accident. The storm made the roads slick. A family skidded off the highway on the 101, broke through the railing, and rolled down the hill about three hundred feet. The two kids in the back seat survived, ages three and ten. The parents didn’t make it.”

  Gavin felt the nausea roll through him and he set down his fork and pushed away his plate. “Piper?” he asked hoarsely.

  Winnie shook her head. “Jenna says she handled the job like a pro, but vanished the minute they got back. She just wanted to give us a h
eads-up.”

  Gavin opened the app the three of them had to track each other’s locations. Once upon a time, Piper had used it to keep tabs on him. Now they used it out of sheer laziness, like when Gavin checked to see which of his two sisters was closer to the grocery store when he needed something. “She’s at the tire swing,” he said.

  “Where she goes to be alone. What do we do? Do we let her be alone?”

  Hell, he actually wasn’t sure, but Winnie was looking lost and he knew he had to at least appear like he had his shit together.

  “Should we try to get in touch with Cam?” Winnie asked.

  “Do you want to live?”

  Winnie sighed. “I know, right? She’d kill us if we worried him while he was gone to God knows where doing God knows what.”

  “She’ll come home when she’s ready, and we’ll be here for her.”

  But it took her longer than he’d thought it would. It was way past dark, and he was in his room alternately watching TV and eyeballing his phone for both Piper’s location and a call or text from CJ when there came a soft knock at his door.

  He opened up, not surprised to see Piper in what she called her “birth control outfit”: sweats that swallowed her whole, hair piled on top of her head, no makeup, feet stuffed into rainboots.

  “Our parents died,” she whispered.

  He pulled her inside and into his arms as she cracked in half. “I know,” he said, throat tight as she shuddered and began to cry against his chest. “I know.”

  She let him hold her for a long moment, during which time she got his shirt all soggy with her tears, before lifting her face. “I’m sorry.”

  He gave her a small smile. “Because you just slimed me?”

  She managed a weak laugh. “No, I’m not sorry about that.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted so much time trying to boss you around into a life you never wanted.”

  “Hey, it’s never a waste of time if you learn something.”

  She shook her head, not ready for humor. “I’ve never acted like your sister. And I don’t let you talk about Mom and Dad, and I’m sorry for that too. Or if I made you feel like I didn’t like taking care of you and Winnie, or that you were a burden—”