by Sherry Lewis
But for how long? Much as he wanted her, it wouldn’t be fair or right to pretend something that would never happen. There was still nothing in Libby for him. Nothing except the woman he’d grown to love and the kid he was beginning to wish was his own.
Siddah flushed and turned to look over her shoulder. “I’m ready if you are. Just let me grab my purse.”
Gabe wasn’t ready to share her with the world yet. He caught her hand and pulled her into his arms, knowing he shouldn’t, but too far gone to care. “You look beautiful,” he said again.
He thought she might protest, but she melted into his arms eagerly. She didn’t speak, she simply lifted her mouth to his and wrapped her arms around his neck. If there was one ounce of common sense left in his brain, it evaporated at her touch.
With a little moan of pleasure, she parted her lips and invited more. He groaned and tightened his arms around her, giving his hands free rein to explore those inviting curves. Sliding his hands to her hips, he cupped her bottom and pulled her against him. Another tiny moan escaped her lips and the fire she’d ignited flamed fully to life.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, disjointed words of logic floated just out of reach. All the reasons he shouldn’t make love to her were there, but he didn’t want to hear them. Not while she was running her hands along his back. Not when she leaned back, exposing the hollow of her throat to his eager lips. Not when she trembled beneath his touch.
He shut down the arguments and let himself have the moment. Right or wrong, this might be the only time he could be with her, and he wasn’t strong enough to turn away. He slid his hands beneath her sweater and found her breasts.
With a shudder of pleasure, he pulled the sweater over her head and tossed it aside. She stumbled backward, taking him with her, and they landed on the floor together. Her hands were under his shirt, exploring his bare chest, then stroking his back so softly and sensuously he thought he’d explode. His shirt was there one minute and gone the next.
She trailed kisses across his shoulder and down his chest. He could hear his own ragged breathing but the staccato pulse of his heart drowned out everything else. Words rose in his throat, but he couldn’t make himself speak. And when she slid her hands down to his waist, then inched lower to fumble with his belt buckle, the time for talking was past.
With a cry, he found the zipper to her slacks and opened it. He slipped the slacks down her hips and gave himself one brief moment to look at her before she reached for him again. Even if the world had come to an end in that moment he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself. He wanted her. She wanted him. Why did it have to be more complicated than that?
In his fantasies, he’d made slow, gentle love to her, but the reality was far different. Desire had been growing for weeks, and they were both too hungry to take things slowly. Oblivious to the time and the world around them, Gabe claimed her, and when they climaxed, unbelievably together, he knew he would never experience anything like that again. It didn’t occur to him until afterward, as they lay entwined together on the floor in a tangle of clothes, that he hadn’t even thought about using the condom in his wallet.
Suddenly thinking rationally, he levered himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. She lay with her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, and she looked so utterly peaceful, Gabe hated to disturb her.
He brushed her cheek gently with the backs of his fingers, and her eyelids fluttered open. Aching, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips and whispered, “Hi.”
She smiled up at him. “Hi yourself.”
“That wasn’t exactly the way I’d planned to start the evening. I’m usually…well, I had a condom. I hope—”
She cut him off with a kiss. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure we’re fine.”
“Really?” He couldn’t decide if he was disappointed or relieved. “How can you be sure?”
“I told you, I don’t get pregnant.” She reached for her sweater and drew it across her bare breasts.
That same odd feeling zapped Gabe again, but this time he recognized it. He was disappointed. But why should he be? That didn’t make any sense at all. If he wanted to upset his parents and prove what a screwup he was, ruin Siddah’s life and create more confusion for Bobby—not to mention throwing a monkey wrench into his career—getting her pregnant was the way to go about it.
He should be relieved.
But Gabe had never been one for doing what he should.
“SO?” IVY ASKED an hour later as she followed Siddah into the kitchen carrying a load of salad plates. “Want to tell me what’s up with the two of you?”
Siddah’s stomach turned over, but she pretended nothing was amiss as she stacked dishes beside the sink. They’d been to just one house and eaten just one course, but already Ivy’s nose was twitching. What had possessed either of them to think they could get away with this?
She pasted on a bright smile and reached for the dishes Ivy was holding. “There’s nothing up with the two of us,” she said firmly. “We’re friends.”
“Friends who showed up late and can’t stop staring at each other.” Ivy leaned so she could see into the dining room and lowered her voice to a whisper. “There are two things a man can’t hide, Siddah. When he’s drunk and when he’s in love. Bruce showed up at the door three sheets to the wind, but Gabe is just as obvious. And so, might I add, are you.”
“I’m not in love with him,” Siddah whispered back, too quickly.
“In a pig’s eye.” Ivy turned on the faucet. “I’ve known you too long. You can’t fool me.”
“Well that’s good, since I’m not trying to.” Gabe’s laugh sounded from the other room, and all of her senses flared to life. Siddah resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. Ivy would make something of it, and she wasn’t in the mood.
From the minute she’d started dressing for dinner, Siddah had been at war with herself over what to wear, how to do her makeup, what scent to use. Everything seemed fraught with hidden meaning. The war had escalated when Gabe, looking way too handsome in a black Polo shirt and jeans, arrived to pick her up.
She’d lost one battle when she practically threw herself at him on the floor.
The floor!
Just thinking about it made her face burn—not just with embarrassment, but also with remembered pleasure. She’d had a healthy and active sex life with Peter, but they’d never done anything like that.
Peter had been a wonderful man. She’d never deny that. But he’d never had Gabe’s easygoing nature or his ability to make friends. He’d never been as comfortable in a crowd, and though he’d been kind, he hadn’t been as instinctively compassionate as Gabe seemed to be. Whether Gabe was asking after someone’s aging mother or helping a very pregnant Celia Segretti up the stairs, Gabe’s heart seemed to lie wide open, and Siddah couldn’t imagine why anyone would think of him as cold or self-centered, or why they’d doubt his sincerity.
Realizing that she’d have to be even more careful, she set her expression and turned toward the dining room to finish clearing the table.
“What?” Ivy demanded. “You don’t want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly. Besides, the others are getting restless to move on.”
“Trying to avoid me?”
Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Siddah turned back to her friend. “Yes. But don’t take it personally. There’s just no point in talking about this. It’s nothing. A momentary infatuation or transference of my feelings for Peter to Gabe.” But that was a lie, and her feelings of disloyalty to Gabe were nearly as strong as the disloyalty she battled over Peter.
“Even if what I felt for him was real,” she said, checking over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone, “he’ll be leaving again in a few months. The last thing I need is to get all wound up over somebody who won’t be around. The situation is just impossibly complicated and there’s no point even wasting time thinking about it.”
Hands dripping water, Ivy turned away f
rom the sink. “Maybe he’ll stay.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You never know. Have you seen the way he looks at you?”
“His own family couldn’t keep him here before. I doubt that a fleeting attraction could.”
“What if you’re more than a fleeting attraction?”
“What if I’m not?” Siddah tossed a towel to her and turned away. “Let’s just forget about it, okay? We’re here as friends, and it would be helpful if you’d play along.” She didn’t wait for an answer, but hurried back into the dining room and tried not to do anything that might raise questions in anyone else’s mind.
She did her best not to look at Gabe, not to listen too attentively when he spoke, not to laugh too much when he said something amusing—which was far too often. She tried not to notice the glances he sent her way, and she did her best to ignore the tingle that jolted along her spine whenever he drew near.
But tonight was just a fantasy. Tomorrow, Bobby would be home and full of stories about his sleepover with Rebecca and her grandma, and the world would start spinning again. Neither she nor Gabe needed to act upon something that existed only in a fairy tale, no matter how much she might want to.
IT WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT when Gabe pulled into Siddah’s driveway and turned off the Jeep’s engine. The minute he did, Siddah’s hands grew clammy and her heart took up residence in her throat. She’d done a pretty good job acting as if he was just a friend all evening, but now, alone in the darkened car, all that flew out the window.
Crickets sang somewhere nearby, and a canyon breeze stirred the air, bringing with it the scents of cut lumber and sweet wild grass.
He loomed large behind the steering wheel. Large and solid and male. She could hear the sound of his breathing and smell the faint scent of the soap he’d used to shower earlier. The remembered taste of his lips and feel of his hands swept over her, and her breath caught.
Making love to him had been wonderful and exciting—and completely spontaneous. Now, if she invited him inside, she’d practically be suggesting a repeat performance, and that seemed a little too brazen.
Not that she didn’t want to. Her body tingled all over and her skin seemed ultrasensitive to the brush of fabric as she moved. She could easily imagine being with him again, making love more slowly, taking time to explore each other’s bodies…
But this was a small town. People would be sure to notice his car outside her house. Bobby could find out. Helene and Monty could hear gossip. Siddah wasn’t ready to deal with that yet.
She didn’t know if she ever would be.
She could feel Gabe watching her, taking his cue from her, and her gratitude made her weak with relief. “I’d invite you in—” she began.
“It’s probably not a good idea,” he finished for her. He grinned and leaned forward for a chaste kiss. “I’m sure Mom’s waiting up to hear how the evening went. I’ll stand a much better chance of pretending dinner was the highlight if I get in at a reasonable time.”
Siddah knew he was giving her an out, but she grabbed it gratefully. “I hadn’t thought of that. It must be strange, living with them again.”
“Very.”
“And for six months!” She shook her head in wonder. “You know, you still haven’t told me how you managed to get six months away from work.”
“Haven’t I?”
“No, and I’m wildly curious. Maybe it would work for me.”
Gabe laughed, but he sobered again almost immediately and his expression became almost grim. He took her hands in his and gently ran his thumbs across her knuckles. “I have six months off because I was sick. I managed to contract a fever while I was in a remote village in the interior. Luckily, the people of the village knew what they were doing. Without them, I wouldn’t have made it out alive.”
Siddah’s smile froze. “How close were you?”
“To dying?” Gabe shrugged, but he didn’t look away. “Closer than I want to be again for a long time. It was weeks before I was strong enough to sit up, months before I could survive the journey back to civilization. My doctor wants me to stay away from humidity and heat for at least six months and the university wants me to be a man of leisure until the doctor gives the all-clear.”
“And that’s why you’re here?” She wasn’t even sure how she felt about that. Disappointed that he’d come back only because he was sick? Frightened that she’d nearly lost him before she even found him? Or angry that he’d been carrying this secret around all this time?
“I’m here because I got Mom’s letter about Peter. I could have avoided humidity and heat anywhere—at least the kind you find in the rain forest.”
“But that’s why you’re staying so long.”
“It was originally.” Gabe turned her hand over and studied her palm for a long moment. “Now there are other factors at work.”
“Like a silly little crush on your brother’s widow?”
Even in the dimly lit car, she could tell that his eyes darkened with displeasure. “Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what I think,” she admitted. “I don’t know what I feel, either.”
Gabe lifted her palm and pressed his lips to its center. “I’m confusing you.”
“You’re doing more than that.” Half-convinced that she’d melt right there on the seat, she pulled her hand away gently. “I think you’re a wonderful man, Gabe. I really do. But we can’t do this. We can’t act as if there’s a future for us when we both know there’s not.”
“Do we know that?”
“Of course we do. Unless you’ve changed your mind and you’re planning to stay around.” It was by no means the only sticking point, but it was the first. Unless they settled it, they didn’t even need to think about the others.
Gabe sat back in his seat and stared up at the dome light. “I have never been so tempted to stay around in all my life.”
“But—?”
“But my life isn’t here. We both know that.”
It was nothing more than she’d expected, but it still hurt to hear it. “That’s my point,” she said, pulling even further into herself. “You won’t be here.”
“You don’t have to stay,” he pointed out. “There’s nothing keeping you here. You and Bobby could relocate. Come to Virginia, since that’s home base for me.”
He made it sound so easy. “I don’t have to stay,” she agreed, “but I’ve worked too hard to find a place to call home, and I don’t want to leave. I was uprooted too much when I was a kid and I can’t bear the thought of moving Bobby around like that.” She shifted in her seat so she could see into the shadows that hid his face. “Besides, let’s pretend for a minute that I didn’t have a problem with that. Where will you be? In Virginia, or in the rain forest?”
“I’d probably split my time.”
“And I’d be doing what? Working? Waiting for you to come back? Hoping you weren’t out there contracting another fever?”
He sighed and ran a hand along the back of his neck. “You make it sound worse than it is.”
“Am I missing something?” she asked. “Didn’t you just say you’d split your time between Virginia and the jungle?”
“Well yes, but—”
“And my choice would be to either pick up a machete and follow you—which I’m not about to do—or stay home while you’re off adventuring and be there to welcome you with open arms when you come back.”
His mouth quirked. “That’s where it loses something in the translation.”
She appreciated his humor, but this was too serious to laugh about. “You have a better spin to put on it?”
He smiled, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not a nine-to-five kind of guy, Siddah. I never have been.”
“And I’m not asking you to change. But security is very important to me, and I can’t change that, either.”
“So we have a stalemate?”
For some reason, she didn’t want to leave it there. “My dad
had a wandering spirit,” she explained. “I don’t remember him leaving, but I have very clear memories of my mother waiting for him to wander back into our lives. And he did, every so often.”
“I think our situation is a little different.”
“In some ways,” she admitted. “But the problems would be the same. When my dad was around, things were good for a day or two, but even as a little girl I resented him showing up without warning and then telling me what I could and couldn’t do. Mom was used to doing things her way, handling the problems that came up. Then all of a sudden Dad would be home, acting as if he belonged there. But he didn’t, Gabe. No matter what explanation you want to put on it, he didn’t belong. And neither would you. Bobby would begin to resent you, and so would I.” She smiled sadly and hoped he understood that she wasn’t trying to hurt him. “I’m not going to put Bobby through that, and I won’t put myself through it, either. Maybe some women could live that way and be happy, but I don’t happen to be one of them.”
Slowly, he put out one hand and drew a finger along her cheek. “I guess we’re just too different, you and I.”
It nearly broke her heart, but she had to agree with him. “I guess we are.”
He tried to smile but failed miserably. “Are we back to being friends again?”
“We don’t seem to do that very well,” she pointed out. “One of us is always forgetting. Or both.”
He smiled sadly. “Is that such a bad thing?”
“It is when you think about all the other people who are involved. Decisions we make won’t only affect you and me, and we can’t play fast and loose with other people.”
He looked away and leaned his head against the back of the seat. She ached to hold him, but she knew that would only make things harder for both of them. Tonight had been a fairy tale, and it was time to return her glass slippers.
Leaning up, she kissed his cheek and then silently let herself out into the night. But walking away from him was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do.