Dirty Sexy Knitting

by Christie Ridgway

  “Please.”

  Noah glanced over his shoulder. “Otherwise I’ll have to take you back to Juliet,” he added. “And she told me to tell you that on this issue you can count on her being ‘the mean one.’ She said you’d understand that.”

  She understood them. They were still determined to behave as if they were her sisters, even though that was no longer a certainty. DNA testing, she reminded herself, putting it on her mental list, right after sleep and some time to allow the shock to wear off. That day that Gabe had left the shop—was it only forty-eight hours ago?—she’d apologized to Nikki and Juliet and put forth her plan for genetic testing. They hadn’t exactly agreed.

  Maybe it was best to forget that anyway. Perhaps she should break contact and sever ties with the other two. After all, Reed Tucker had planned on killing the three of them in order to protect his inheritance. A plan she’d set in motion by her selfish desire to find herself a family had backfired with near-fatal results.

  It would be better for everyone if she remained alone.

  Gabe seemed to understand that. Few words were exchanged between them as he ushered her into one of the spacious guest rooms with an attached bath. Her plan was a long shower, but she was so exhausted she settled for a short one. Then she braided her wet hair, wrapped herself in a terry robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, and fell into bed and into sleep.

  She awoke, heart pounding and disoriented.

  “It’s okay, baby.” Gabe’s voice. “You’re safe.”

  Her eyes flew open to find him sitting in the upholstered chair near the bed. In jeans and a T-shirt, his feet bare, he looked as if he’d been there awhile. She could tell from the light outside the window that it was closing on dusk again.

  “Nothing could get to you,” he said. “I watched over you while you slept.”

  She struggled to sit up, gripping the lapels of the robe together. “You should have slept yourself. I’m fine.”

  Leaning forward, he took a glass of water off the bedside table and handed it to her. “I had to make sure of that.”

  She shot him a look, but his face wore one of those inscrutable Gabe expressions that told her he was deep in his interior world. Not your puzzle, Cassandra, she reminded herself. Soon he’ll be taking himself away and all his moods with him.

  Her hands seemed to be trembling again, so she carefully put the glass down. Beside it on the little table sat a small package wrapped with a mangled bow.

  Gabe noticed the direction of her gaze. “It was in my pocket when I set out in the rain last night. For you. Happy belated birthday.”

  Oh. Yeah. She’d forgotten all about that. With trepidation, she eyed the gift. “Am I supposed to open it?”

  He shifted in the chair. “Up to you. I . . .” Hesitating, he forked a hand through his nonexistent hair. “I hope you like it. It’s, uh, organic.”

  Eyebrows raised, she took it in her hand, holding the small package on the shelf of her palm. “You bought me an organic present? How enlightened of you, Gabe.”

  Shrugging, he leaned forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees and his dark, watchful eyes on her.

  The ribbon fell away. The lid of the small box lifted on a hinge. Set in white velvet was a pair of diamond earrings. Sparkling, platinum-set, hefty-sized diamond stud earrings.

  Her mouth dried. She’d expected something made at a craft fair, maybe. A gift certificate to the local farmer’s market folded into quarters.

  He slumped back in his chair. “Boring, huh? Conventional.”

  “Organic,” she whispered, touching one with a fingertip. Gemstones and precious metal. But she didn’t understand. Diamond earrings weren’t a gift you bought for a neighbor or a friend. You bought them for a woman. A lover. And surely not one you planned on leaving.

  “I picked them up a couple of weeks ago.”

  Ah. When they were lovers. When he wasn’t leaving. Before he’d decided he didn’t want her anymore. She pasted on a smile. “Thank you. I’ll treasure them. They’ll always remind me of you.”

  “Cassandra . . .”

  “A birthday gift and a good-bye gift,” she continued, deciding it was imperative she let him know she understood. “That’s how I’ll think of them.”

  He groaned. “Cassandra.” In a breath, he launched himself out of the chair and was in the bed, over her, his body’s weight on her, his hands warm as they cupped her face. He kissed her mouth, her nose, her chin. “My heart almost crumbled all over again when he put that gun against your head.”

  She knew what he meant. No matter the separation to come, they’d shared a past that included those terrifying moments. Her hand stroked his short hair. “Mine shredded when he pointed it at you.”

  His mouth pressed more kisses to her cheeks, her throat, and then her mouth again. “Let me heal it, baby. Let me put it back together for you.”

  Oh.

  “Let me show you how glad I am that we’re alive.”

  Oh. Even through the covers she could feel the heavy bulge of his sex.

  He was offering one last chance for intimacy with him. More of that good-bye, she supposed, as well as a celebration. But . . .

  With his next kiss, logic, sense, self-preservation flew out the window. She couldn’t say no. She wouldn’t. They were alive, after all.

  “Cassandra?” He looked into her eyes.

  “Yes.”

  The air chilled her suddenly hot skin as he pushed the covers off and drew open her robe. He rubbed his smooth cheek against her breast, and she held his head close, perversely missing the usual rasp of his whiskers. But then his lips found her nipple and it stiffened as it always did in the heat of his mouth and against the flickering tease of his tongue. She arched, and he cupped the other breast in his palm, thumbing the nipple to a matching peak.

  He drew her robe away from her bare body and tossed it over the side of the bed. Then he rolled, bringing her over him so that he could run his big palms over her back and along her bottom. His hands squeezed and she gasped, her thighs parting so he could press his jean-covered leg against the warm, already wet place between hers.

  She squirmed, loving the knowing pressure, but wanting more. Her hands pushed at the hem of his T-shirt and he jerked it off in one movement. Closing her eyes, she inhaled his clean scent, then indulged herself, retelling him her deepest secrets by tracing them with her tongue on the muscled expanse of his chest.

  I love you.

  I’ll always love you.

  He shuddered, and buried his hands in her hair. “Witch,” he murmured. “Take me into your body,” he said, his hips lifting against hers. “I’ll make it so good for you. I’ll make it so right.”

  She smiled against his skin and thought about telling him that she didn’t expect his promises, that no one had ever given any to her, but that was just too much talk. So instead her hand wandered down the rippled muscles of his belly. The skin there twitched when she reached the button of his fly.

  Groaning, he rolled again, leaving her splayed beneath him as he drew off his jeans. Then he rose over her, and took the backs of her knees in his palms. As he sank into the mattress, he lifted her legs and opened her. His expression softened and his eyes glittered as he looked down on the swollen wetness of her sex. It throbbed under the heat of his gaze and she saw his nostrils flare and his chest rise and fall in heavy breaths. “You’re so pretty. So pretty and so ready for me.”

  He dipped his head and drew his tongue from the sensitive button at the top of her cleft to the warm lower well where he lingered, tasting her. She cried out as his tongue painted her with pleasure until she pulled at his arms, asking to be filled by him.

  He didn’t acquiesce, not until she was sure she wasn’t breathing, when there was no oxygen pumping through her body, but only desire. His hips pushed her thighs wide. His erection nudged at the melting entrance to her body.

  “Do you know what we’re doing, sweetheart?”

  “Hm?” H
er eyes closed, she lifted her hips, trying to take him in, but he held back, asked her again.

  “Do you know what this is?”

  She lifted her lashes, looking into his face, knowing there was some message there. Her trembling fingers played over his lips and he nipped at them, sending another jolt of desire through her already jangled system.

  “Cassandra, do you know what I’m trying to tell you?”

  “Tell me?” She couldn’t think. “Good-bye?”

  His eyes closed. “No, sweetheart.” Then they flared open. “Or yes. Yes. It is good-bye. Good-bye past.” He fitted himself to the notch in her body and pushed in. “And hello us, Cassandra.” He slid deep.

  Her body swallowed every naked inch.

  Her heart seized. Her eyes flared wide. Every naked inch.

  “Shall I pull out?” He ducked his head so his serious, dark, dark gaze met hers. “Is that what you want?”

  She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “I know I love you. I’ve loved you for nearly two years. I’ve probably been in love with you for that long, too. But even though you gave me a lecture the other day that pulled the wool from my eyes . . .”

  His silly pun brought a tremulous smile to her lips.

  “. . . I couldn’t move on until I was faced with another potential tragedy.”

  He kissed her mouth, still buried deep and unmoving, even as her inner muscles undulated against his thick flesh. “Not until I saw you with death just a bullet away. I couldn‘t bear the idea of losing you. Of losing all the possibilities of a life we could have together. Of a life we might make together.”

  Her heart felt too big for her chest. She touched Gabe’s face, touching his brows, his chin, his beloved lips.

  They moved under her fingers. “Will you be my future, Cassandra? Will you be my friend, my wife, the mother of my children? Will you be my family?”

  Emotion rippled through her. Did she need to answer? He knew what it would be because he knew her so well. Be my family.

  The man was always listening.

  “I love you, Gabe,” she whispered, then she took a deep breath. “Make me a baby.”

  He grinned, looking younger than she’d ever seen. Happy. “For that, as many as you’d like.”

  Cassandra firmed her grip on the key to Malibu & Ewe and forced herself to ignore her roiling stomach and fit it into the lock. Gabe had his hand on her shoulder and the warmth of his touch eased some of her nerves. She was keenly aware of the envelope in her other hand, and she worried that her sweaty palm might obscure the information that it contained.

  Or maybe that would be a good thing.

  She and Nikki and Juliet had sent their DNA tests away. A simple cheek swab and from there a laboratory had done the work. It was supposed to take a couple of weeks, but Jay, who seemed to know everybody in the world, was able to make a call and cut the wait time in half.

  They all had received the results and were meeting at the knitting shop today—a semineutral location—to open them together.

  “Froot Loop?” Gabe said, running his hand along her hair. “You okay?”

  She hadn’t moved.

  He turned her in his arms and tilted up her chin so their gazes met. “Cassandra, sweetheart. No matter what happens, no matter what that piece of paper says, it doesn’t change anything I feel for you. Or anything about our future plans. You know that, right?”

  She managed a smile. “I know that.”

  His kiss was soft and sweet as his hand brushed her lower belly. “If there’s a baby in there, we don’t want it upset by you worrying.”

  “There might not be a baby in there. Have you thought about that?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “I’ve thought about what a hardship it will be for us to keep trying to get one planted.”

  “ ‘Planted’?” She pushed at his shoulder. “Eew.”

  His arms pulled her closer and he pressed his cheek to hers. “Like a garden, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Our very own spring flower.”

  Her heart rolled in her chest and she had to bury her face in his shoulder to keep the tears at bay. “I’m getting as bad as Nikki,” she told Gabe, when she dared look up again. “Crying all the time.”

  She didn’t let herself think it was baby hormones, not yet.

  “Speaking of Nikki . . .” he murmured, nodding toward the Malibu & Ewe entry.

  The reason they were at the shop swamped her again. Today she’d find out whether or not the two women she felt so close to were in fact her sisters. Taking a breath, she moved out of Gabe’s arms and turned back to the door.

  “No cowards here,” she murmured, putting the key in the lock and giving it a turn.

  “Not anymore,” Gabe agreed.

  She threw him a smile over her shoulder. Her brave guy, willing to start again after so much pain. She’d make sure he never regretted it. Still looking at him, she pushed open the door.

  “Surprise!”

  The many-voiced shout had Cassandra’s head whipping around. The lights in the shop blazed on, revealing dozens and dozens of smiling people. A HAPPY BIRTHDAY! banner was strung up in the middle of the space and there were tables of food and buckets filled with ice and beverages.

  Tears started in her eyes again. Blindly reaching back, she found Gabe’s hand and drew him to her. “You did this.”

  He grinned. “I did this.”

  “With a little help,” Nikki said, coming out of the crowd with Juliet by her side. They each grabbed one of Cassandra’s arms and drew her into the midst of the party.

  “But . . . but . . .” She looked down at the envelope in her hand.

  Nikki grabbed it and tossed it on the counter by the cash register. “We’ll get to that later. Now it’s party time.”

  What could she do but celebrate? Most of the Chamber of Commerce was there and several from the city government. Other Malibuites she’d known all her life. The regular Tuesday Night Knitters were doing most of the hostessing work, plying people with little sandwiches and items from the fruit and vegetable trays.

  Gabe appointed himself beverage patrol and he was wandering around passing out beers and topping off champagne glasses. He handed her a plastic flute full of sparkling bubbles. “A sip or two won’t hurt our flower,” he said.

  Nikki and Juliet cast her identical round-eyed looks at that, but she pretended not to notice, instead turning to the ringing telephone on the counter. She snatched it up and had to put her hand over her other ear to hear the voice on the other end.

  “Happy belated birthday!” It was her mother.

  Cassandra smiled. “How did you know I’d be here?”

  “Gabe and I have been in contact.”

  She sent him a look over the heads of the crowd. He caught her eye, and gave her another one of those carefree smiles that thrilled her. “He’s thrown me a wonderful party.”

  “I know. And I really tried to see if I could make it back, but there just wasn’t enough time.”

  So her guy had been applying a little pressure. She shook her head. “That’s okay, Judith.”

  “I’m just so glad you’re safe, Cassie.” Her voice thickened. “That young man . . . that Reed Tucker . . .”

  “He’s locked up. He won’t be hurting anyone ever again.” From what they’d heard through Noah’s contacts at the D.A.’s office, Reed’s father was putting pressure on him to take a plea deal that would keep him safely away forever.

  Her gaze caught on a pair of newcomers entering the shop. Gabe greeted them with noticeable affection and she narrowed her eyes as he drew them through the partyers in her direction. “I have to go now, Judith,” she said. “Let’s talk soon.”

  “We will,” her mother promised. “Gabe knows how to reach me.”

  And then he was standing in front of her, beside a tall, gray-haired man and a much smaller woman who seemed to be blinking away tears. That crying thing must be contagious.
r />   “Cassandra.” Even Gabe sounded a little emotional as he gestured between her and the unknown pair. “These are my parents, Rosemary and Brock.”

  Oh. Oh.

  The older man, so like Gabe, shook her hand, then held her to him for a brief, hard hug. His mom didn’t bother with the handshake. She drew Cassandra against her, clasping her in an embrace that communicated how much she’d loved and missed her son. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for bringing my boy back to me.”

  They were both sniffing as they turned to Gabe. “You’ve been busy,” Cassandra said to him, accepting the tissue his mother pulled from her purse.

  “Making up for lost time.” He put an arm around each parent. “They’re going to spend a few days with us here in Malibu.”

  She sniffed again. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “You always have.”

  He was giving her family. In every way that he could.

  “And guess what?” he said. “Dad’s a vegetarian now.”

  “No!”

  Brock Kincaid nodded. “Yep. For my heart. The old ticker has to be able to keep up with the grandkids.”

  She shot a look at Gabe. He shrugged, an “I didn’t tell them” in his eyes.

  Gabe’s mom intercepted their unspoken communication.

  “We always have to have hope,” Rosemary said.

  Cassandra wasn’t sure that’s what she was feeling as the party wound down and the shop emptied. Gabe took his parents to his house to get them situated and promised to be back for her shortly. Jay and Noah, bless their hearts, took it upon themselves to be the cleanup crew, and One of the Most Famous Actresses in America was helping them, along with the drummer from the heavy metal rock band Mercy. Carver grumbled something about being conscripted into service or else Gabe was going to drag him to a local parlor to make some painful changes to his favorite tat.

  Cassandra had yet to figure out what that was all about. But she let it go as she and her sisters settled in the chairs on the shop’s balcony. The tide was in, and they were suspended over the Pacific as the warm sun sank lower. They each held an envelope in their lap.

  Cassandra’s two sisters exchanged glances. Her stomach fluttered with more nerves. “Well?” she asked, when they didn’t speak up. “It’s obvious you have something to say.”