Even if I were freezing I wouldn’t stop him when all I want is for him to keep touching me. Is it my imagination, or are his hands lingering with each caress? All I want to do is hold on to him and never let go. As his fingertips move over the underside of my swollen belly, he’s closer and closer to where I pushed down the top of my yoga pants.
He’s centimeters away from the seam of my low rise panties. If I had known him helping me was going to turn into an erotic fantasy, I would have asked Abby instead.
He peels off the plastic gloves, dropping them into the bucket. “There. Now all we have to do is wait for it to dry.”
As I lift my hands, my gaze moves to meet his. “Thank you.”
Our eyes remain locked as he slowly stands in front of me. “Are you still cold? I can go grab a bath towel for you to wrap around your shoulders.”
My throat thickens as my nerves hijack my ability to speak normally. “Yes, please.”
He moves so fast my body sways. He’s back just as quickly, I could have blinked and missed him leaving altogether. If it weren’t for the soft towel he drapes over my shoulders I would have wondered if I imagined him leaving at all.
“This better?” he asks, holding the corners together.
I nod, and he smiles.
“You’ve been standing this whole time. Are you sure you’re okay? I can get you a stool if you need one.”
The mold is a quickset one. There’s no way I’m going to risk moving while it’s drying.
“I’m fine. I promise.” Thanks to the foot rubs I’ve been getting on the regular, and wanting the mold to turn out good.
“What about a drink, or a snack?”
He doesn’t quit.
Shaking my head with a giggle, I reply, “I’m good, cross my heart.”
Not looking convinced, he shoves his hands into his pockets. How that one movement can make him look so sexy is criminal.
“Why don’t you sit? There’s no reason for both of us to stand.”
It apparently is impossible for Gideon Thompson to loaf around. Instead of sitting down, he starts cleaning.
“You don’t have to do that.”
My words fall on deaf ears as I watch him walk out of the room, bucket in hand. My traitorous gaze stays glued to his firm backside. There’s no point in telling myself not to, I already know I won’t listen.
I can’t help but compare him to Derek since he’s become the new man in my life. We’re not in a romantic relationship, so it’s impossible to know for sure if Gideon as a boyfriend would be just as considerate and hardworking as Gideon the friend is. That being said, Gideon the friend still blows Derek the supposed love of my life out of the water.
My attention shifts from my too sexy landlord to the drying mold on my belly. The solution reminds me of a face mask, tightening my skin as it dries. Other than being an odd sensation on my middle, it’s a good sign to feel it drying.
Gideon returns, now clean and dry bucket in hand. “Are you sure you don’t want a stool?”
Case in point, always making sure I’m comfortable. “No thanks, I’m good for the next five or ten minutes.”
His jaw hardens, like he wants to argue, and then softens when he decides not to. Instead, he picks up, and re-reads the directions.
Time to get him to focus on something else. “My mom also ordered a matching stand. I can’t make up my mind on where to put it, on the bookshelf, or on the dresser. Where do you think it should go?”
He doesn’t look up from the page. “The dresser. Or, I could build you a corner display shelf.”
For the first time since we started the mold, my legs feel weak. “You’d do that, build me a shelf?”
His gaze moves from the page to lock with mine. “If you want one.”
It wasn’t even an option I considered, but now that I can picture it, the idea is perfect for the space. “Are you sure it wouldn’t be too much work?”
Setting the pamphlet down, he moves closer and gingerly inspects the mold. “I wouldn’t have offered if it was.”
Meaning he’ll work like crazy during the day because it’s spring in New Hampshire and he’s an awesome landscaper, and then work some more to build it when he should be resting.
I also know this is a battle I won’t win if I tell him no. “Well, if you’re sure.”
“I’ll be done in no time if I build it in Asher’s workshop. Want to make a weekend of it and stay at their cabin?”
My eyes bug. Asher and Paige’s place is gorgeous. Gideon took Rissa and I up to it while she was still visiting. If I added an hour of recording to every day the week before and after, I could totally swing a weekend at the lake.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “You don’t have to answer. I can tell by your face it’s a yes. I’ll text Paige to see if the cabin is free.”
I clasp my hands together in a silent prayer as I nod. His fingers move over the phone. Last time we went, Rissa and I shared the guest cabin while Gideon stayed in the main house.
Would the same hold true for this trip?
His phone buzzes. “She said the cabin is ours whenever we want it.”
Ours? We?
My heart starts pounding so hard I wonder if he can hear it. “When do you want to go?”
He shoves his phone back into his pocket. “This weekend too soon?”
I shake my head as I subtly wipe my now sweaty palms on the back of my pants.
He moves closer. “I’ll text her back after we’re done in here.”
My mouth goes dry, adding to my sweaty palms and thundering heart. “Okay.”
Standing directly in front of me, his hands go to either side of my waist and hover there, not touching me. The empty space between his hands and my body is charged with energy. My hands itch to cover his and press them to me.
“Put your hands on my chest. I’m going to give the mold a tug. It should come right off.”
I’m not sure putting my hands on his chest is a good idea, but I do it anyway. One second is all it takes for me to regret it. Before, I could tell myself his chest wasn’t as firm and muscular as it looked. Unfortunately, physical evidence proves otherwise.
If he could hurry up and pull off the mold before I start panting, it’d be great.
In case he’s waiting for some sort of go-ahead, I say, “I’m ready.”
His hands move in, his fingertips resting against my bare skin as his palms settle on the edge of the mold. I don’t have long to enjoy it before his fingertips curl around the edge of the mold.
My gaze roams up his torso, over his tempting neck, to settle on his strong jaw. This close, his cologne teases my nostrils. My mouth that was dry only seconds ago now waters.
It’s more than attraction. Gideon is everything I didn’t know I wanted and it physically causes me pain to know that he can’t feel the same for me.
He tips his face down to meet my gaze. “Hold on.”
The gel makes a squeaky suction sound as he pulls the mold free.
My attention shifts downward to see if it worked. Since what I can see of my belly is still shiny with gel, and no parts of the mold stuck to my skin as he pulled, I’m guessing it did.
“Oh, how does it look?”
Gideon holds the mold up for me to see.
I blink at it and then at him. “Is my stomach really that big?”
He grins and shakes his head. “It’s not that big.”
Frowning, I cock my head to the side. “That big?”
Shaking his head, he gently passes the mold to me. “You should see your face right now. It’s priceless.”
Maybe a mold of my belly wasn’t the best idea. “You be quiet.”
Turning the mold over, I trail my fingers into the deep indentation. “This turned out great.”
Gideon nods. “It sure did.”
I use a towel to cover my table and then rest the mold on top of it so it can finish drying. Then I head to the bathroom so I can wipe off the gel and mold solution
remnants still on my sides. Gideon follows me.
He grabs a towel. “Let me.”
Reaching for it, I say, “I can do it.”
Ignoring me, he turns on the water and dampens it. “There are spots you can’t see.”
My already small bathroom shrinks around us. Leaning over me, he presses the warm cloth to my skin and slowly moves it down.
My knees wobble and I reach out to steady myself. Taking my hand in his, he moves my hand and places it on his shoulder.
Still standing in front of me, off to one side, his gaze focuses on the side of my torso closest to him. I stare at his neck. His hair is starting to curl at the bottom. He’ll be getting a haircut soon.
I wonder if he’d ever let me cut his hair.
“I’m not being too rough, am I?”
Huh?
When my attention moves to his face, our eyes lock.
He repeats himself. “I’m not being too rough, am l?
My eyes flick down to the towel still pressed to my side. “No, you’re not.”
Exhaling, he resumes moving the damp cloth over my skin. “Your skin was getting red.”
Understanding his concern, I grin. “I’m pale. My skin turns red all the time.”
His hand stills. “You’re pretty when you blush.”
Our eyes lock and I freeze.
“And, when you’re not blushing. You’re also pretty when you laugh, and even when you’re not laughing. You’re pretty when you sleep, and when you’re not sleeping.”
His hand comes up to cup my jaw. “You’re pretty when you’re with the people you care about, and when you’re alone.”
It’s impossible to look away from his gorgeous blue eyes. “Gideon.”
His thumb caresses my cheek. “No matter where you are, or what you’re doing, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as I cling to him.
He’s going to kiss me, my lips part as the realization settles in. His face moves closer to mine but stops short.
Why did he stop?
My eyes search his for the answer when it comes to me. Permission, he’s waiting for my permission before he does something that will forever change our friendship.
“Kiss me.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice before his full lips press against mine. The towel falls to the floor as his arms wrap around me.
A sigh escapes me and his tongue sweeps in, shattering every kiss I had before this one. He tastes like salvation and sinning all at the same time.
My fingers move of their own volition, and feather themselves into his thick hair. His lips are greedy and my body responds in kind, ready and willing to give him anything he wants.
Months of wanting him pour out into our kiss. Am I dreaming? There’s no way I’m moving my hands from his hair to pinch myself. If this is a dream, it’s the absolute best, most vivid one I’ve ever had.
I’m kissing Gideon, gorgeous, amazing, could have anyone he wanted, Gideon. This could end badly in ways I’ll never recover from, but like a moth to a flame I can’t resist his pull.
He’s my best friend. The first person I call when I have news good or bad. He has redefined what the word trust is to me and has made me feel supported and important with not only his words but his actions as well. He overcame every booby-trap my suspicious heart laid out for him.
I’ve never wanted a man to touch me as much as I want him to. There’s no paranoia that my pregnant body would repulse him. He’s been right by my side through every change to it.
We pull apart, more to catch our breath than to stop.
His hand cups my face as he stares into my eyes. “What are you thinking?”
My hands move to his shoulders before I slide them back to link behind his neck. “Like I’m dreaming.”
He presses his lips to my temple. “Will you give me a shot?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
His forehead comes down to rest on the spot he kissed. “Now I feel like I’m dreaming.”
His phone starts buzzing.
He ignores it, lifting his head to lock eyes with me. “You sure?”
The uncertainty in his voice makes me want to cry. “I am.”
Tension drains out of him as he hugs me, tucking his face into my neck. “Good.”
His phone starts buzzing again. “Are you going to get that?”
His breath tickles my skin. “Nope.”
The buzzing stops and then starts again. “Gideon.”
With a grumble, he lifts his head. “Can’t even enjoy the moment.”
Pulling his phone from his pocket, his thumb moves over the screen before he puts it to his ear. “Hello.”
I’m close enough to hear, “Finley’s water broke. We’re all heading to the hospital.”
Oh my God.
We step away from each other as his eyes widen. “I’m on my way.”
Ending the call, he shoves his phone back into his pocket. “Finley’s—”
I cut him off and start pushing him toward the door. “I heard. You need to go.”
He doesn’t fight me as I usher him to the front door.
It’s not until we’re at it that he says, “I don’t feel right leaving you like this.”
I don’t want him to leave either. “You have to go. I understand. Finley and Noah need you, and you don’t want to miss being there when your family gets to meet the baby.
His hands frame my face and I cover them with mine. “If it’s not too late, can I come back here tonight?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
He presses one last hard kiss to my lips before he’s out the door. I watch, hand pressed to my pounding heart as he pulls away.
As soon as his taillights are out of sight I lock up and race to my phone. I don’t care what Rissa’s doing right now, this news is too huge not to share.
“Hey Lu, how’re you?”
“We kissed.”
I burst out laughing and have to pull the phone away from my ear when she screams.
Easing it back to my ear, I ask, “Are you done screaming?”
“I’m in a coffee house. I scared the shit out of the guy at the table next to mine.”
I can picture it.
“Is he okay? He’s not having a heart attack or something is he?”
“Who cares. I want to hear all about this kiss. Tell me everything.”
Sinking down onto my sofa, I fall back and stare up at the ceiling. “He helped me do the mold of my belly—”
She gasps. “I thought I was going to help you with that.”
“Gideon Thompson and I kissed and you’re worried about who helped with the belly mold?”
There’s a pause, and then she says. “Good point, continue.”
“There was gunk left on my belly and he was helping to wash it off.”
“Wash it off? Were you naked?”
Popping up, my mouth drops open. “Naked? No, I wasn’t naked. Are you crazy?”
“Geez, it was just a question. Don’t get huffy. So, is he a good kisser?”
Standing, I head back to the bathroom.
Once I’m there, I can’t ignore how happy I look. There’s a blush across my cheeks even now. Lifting my hand, I press the back of it to my forehead to see if my temperature is the reason I look flushed.
“Hands down the best kiss of my life.”
Admitting that to someone else has me grinning from ear to ear.
Rissa shouts again. “That mouth, just imagine what that mouth could do in other places.”
My flush goes fire engine red. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
I said that even though I’m mentally hanging up a hammock in the gutter right now. I’ll need to go to the post office and change my address to the gutter with all the dirty things I’m thinking about.
“Tell me you aren’t thinking about that and I’ll cartwheel naked down the street.”
When I don’t r
eply, she says, “Thought so.”
“Shut up.”
“Never. So, you kissed, it was amazing, and then what happened next?”
“He left.”
“He did what?”
Rissa sounds ready to take out her earrings and brawl. “Easy killer. He had a good reason to. Finley went into labor.”
Her excitement is clear through the phone. “Why didn’t you go with? It would be like a training demo.”
I shake my head. “I can’t go. I don’t know Finley well enough for her to want me at the hospital.”
“Fine. What about Gideon? What did he say when he left?”
Frowning, I avoid my reflection. “He asked if he could come back which I think means he wants to spend the night.”
“Why don’t you sound thrilled?”
17
Gideon
“He looks just like you.”
Noah grins, his newborn son settled contently on his chest. “He does, doesn’t he?”
I don’t have the heart to tell him his son, while cute, also looks like a bald little old man.
Finley catches my eye and smirks at me. Noah missed the joking tone in my voice, his wife did not.
My mom hovers between the bed and Noah. “Do you want me to hold him?”
Finley covers her mouth to keep from laughing at the territorial expression he shoots our mom.
Lifting her hands in surrender, she turns to Finley. “Can I get you anything?”
Finley shakes her head, with a sleepy, yet happy look. “I’m good.”
Mom pats her arm. “You must be exhausted, and with good reason.” Then she turns to the rest of us. “Finley needs her rest. Time to go.”
Abby pouts, holding her hands out toward the baby. “But I wanted to hold Joey again and Noah’s been hogging him.”
“It’s Joseph, not Joey,” Noah corrects.
Abby lowers her hands. “What’s wrong with Joey? Besides, Joseph is too formal.”
Mom claps her hands. “Wave goodbye to the baby and start moving.”
Abby waves and blows air kisses. “I’m going to hold you longer tomorrow.”
“We’ll see about that,” Noah says.
Our mom ushers us out of the room before Abby has a chance to argue. “They need their rest.”
My Perfect Fix (The Fix Book 4) Page 16