There was no cheap, combination bath-and-shower unit from the 1980s in this bathroom. The shower was wide and deep, with two glass walls and dual shower heads. But the tub...
The tub was made for soaking in, with a glass of wine and a good book, held high so the fragrant bubbles didn’t touch it. She would have guessed Gavin was a quick in-and-out-of-the-shower kind of guy, but the jar and the bottle of body wash on the rack near the tub said different. Leaning closer, she could see the label on the old-fashioned mason jar said Epsom salts, which made sense. There were probably days Gavin needed to soak away the aches and pains and tension that came with a physically demanding job.
Two would fit in that tub.
And on that note, she went back to the living room and plugged her iPad into the television. She figured she’d watch an episode or two from the series she was behind on while she ate a microwaved pizza, and then take the iPad into the bathroom. A movie while she soaked in that tub sounded like heaven.
A few hours of blissful peace later, Cait stood next to Gavin’s bed and made her decision. The couch plan had gone out the window hours ago, but she still had to work up the nerve to pull back his covers and slide between his sheets. They were crisp and clean, and surprisingly soft. She was wearing panties and an oversize tee, unable to bring herself to sleep naked in his bed. She wore sleep pants with the tee at home because she could run into her brother during middle-of-the-night bathroom runs, but now she ran her freshly shaved legs over his sheets as if they were made of satin.
While she appreciated the effort he’d gone to to make her comfortable, a part of her wished he hadn’t put freshly laundered sheets on his bed. They smelled like fabric softener instead of Gavin, and she could picture herself pressing her face into his pillow and inhaling the scent of him.
Instead, she had to smell the fresh breeze or whatever it was and try to put him out of her mind so she could sleep. A hotel room, she told herself.
They both had iPhones, so she hadn’t taken her charger out of her bag. She plugged her phone into his charger and set it on his nightstand. Her hand hovered there for a few seconds, so tempted to open the drawer and peek inside. But she didn’t. He’d trusted her with his apartment and she had to respect that, even if she wanted to snoop in the worst way.
But as she reached for the lamp switch to turn it off, she noticed the bookshelf on the far wall. It didn’t hold many books, which didn’t surprise her. It looked like mostly safety manuals and job-related books, but what caught her eye was the frame sitting on the top shelf.
She got out of the bed to take a better look, then covered her mouth with her hand because she had no idea what to make of the fact Gavin had a framed photo of him checking out her ass in his bedroom.
Stalker. She forced herself to give the word consideration before discarding that theory. While they may have gone from verbal sparring on the job to her being alone in his apartment fairly quickly, he didn’t exhibit any red-flag behavior. And if he had an unhealthy obsession with her, he probably would have framed a photo in which he could actually see her face. Not that she didn’t have a good ass, but this was the only picture. And it was one that would have come to him by way of other firefighters, so it was probably a joke. Why he’d put it in his bedroom was a mystery, though.
She liked Gavin and he seemed like a great guy. And if he was a creep, gossip about him would have spread through the first responders’ grapevine by now. They didn’t all know each other, but some things got talked about. But, on the other hand, she was about to sleep in the man’s bed.
After unplugging her phone, she snapped a picture of the bookshelf and sent it to him. She was expecting a text message back, so it startled her when it rang.
“Hello,” was all she said, giving him nothing of her frame of mind.
“Okay, that looks weird, but I can totally explain.” His words were rushed, as if he thought she might hang up or not give him time to talk. “I meant to take it with me and then forgot.”
“That explains why it’s here now, but not why it was here in the first place.”
“Right. So it’s from your brother’s Snapchat and—”
“I know the source of the picture.”
“You knew about it?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure if you knew about it, but obviously you do.”
“Okay, so Carter and Jeff’s daughter go to school together. They’re not close friends, but he included her because he knows her dad’s a firefighter and she showed it to Jeff. Carter didn’t know that her dad and I are on the same crew. Anyway, I showed up for tour one morning and the guys had printed it out and framed it. It was sitting on the TV stand.”
Cait had to bite back a chuckle. She wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook, even though he was confirming her theory the other guys in the house had used the picture to give him a bunch of shit about her.
“I didn’t want to throw it away,” he continued. “I don’t know why, but I wasn’t tossing it in the garbage, so I stuck it in my bag. And then, when I got home, I still didn’t want to throw it away. But the guys stop by my place a lot, so I...I put it in my bedroom. And this morning, when I was making the bed, I saw it and was going to throw it in my bag, but obviously I forgot.”
She climbed back into his bed and turned off the lamp. It was warm, so she left the covers back, but she rested her head on his pillow. “I think it’s cute you didn’t want to throw it away.”
“Cute is better than stalker.”
“That was my first thought.”
“Ouch.”
“But only for a few seconds. I figured out it was a firehouse gag.”
“So you’re not going to run screaming into the night, then?”
She laughed. “I’m not the screaming type, and I’d have to put on clothes before I could leave. It seemed easier to ask you about it first.”
There was a long moment of silence and then she heard him clear his throat. “So if you saw the picture, you’re sleeping in my bed?”
“It’s a nice bed.”
“And you’re not wearing any clothes?”
No, I’m not and you should get in that Jeep and see how fast you can get back here.
“Goodnight, Gavin.” She smiled and hit the disconnect button.
A few seconds later, her phone chimed. Sweet dreams, Cait.
Chapter Nine
Cait woke the next morning to her phone chiming. As she reached for it, she wondered if it was even still morning. It felt like it had to be at least noon, and she hoped the text was from Gavin letting her know he was outside with coffee and a box of doughnuts.
It was only nine thirty and the text was from Carter. Where’s the cleaning stuff?
She’d told him she wanted the bathroom clean before she got home and that she’d probably be home by ten or eleven. He was cutting it close. Under the sink where most people keep cleaning stuff.
Whatever.
She tossed the phone back onto the nightstand and stretched, surprised by how well rested she felt. Despite fearing she’d spend hours tossing and turning thanks to the memory of Gavin’s voice on the phone and his parting text. But she’d been so relaxed after an evening of doing nothing that she must have drifted off.
Despite having soaked so long in his tub last night that she was probably still waterlogged, Cait treated herself to a quick shower, just to see what it felt like. The steaming hot water pulsing over her skin was even more amazing than the bubble bath had been, and she stayed in there until she realized she didn’t know exactly when Gavin was coming home. Maybe not until she told him she was gone, but she couldn’t be sure.
She was getting dressed, debating whether or not she should strip the sheets off the bed—she didn’t know where he kept clean ones, or if he just washed this set and put them back on—when her phone chimed again.
This time
it was Gavin. You awake?
Depends. Are you outside with coffee and doughnuts?
I will be in 30 mins.
Twenty-five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. She liked that he didn’t just use his key, she thought as she opened the door to let him in. And, as promised, he had a cardboard holder with two large coffees in it and a box of doughnuts.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he said as he kicked the door closed behind him and walked to the table to set down their breakfast. “You look like you slept well.”
“I did. How did you sleep?”
“As well as can be expected for a guy trying to sleep on a couch with a raging hard-on.” He turned to face her, the corners of his mouth turned up. “That was mean.”
It was out there now. She’d known things would be different between them after last night’s conversation, but seeing the heat in his eyes right now left no doubt. He wanted her. She wanted him. At some point in the very near future she was going to end up back in that big bed of his, and she wouldn’t be alone.
“You had it coming for making my ass a firehouse joke.”
“Trust me, I was the firehouse joke. Your ass is no joke.”
She rolled her eyes, but took a seat at the table and pulled one of the coffees out of the holder. “Cream and sugar?”
“Yeah. I realized after I should have gotten it black and let you add whatever you wanted here, but it was too late.”
“Milk is never as good as that really fattening cream all the coffee shops use.”
After hanging up his coat, he joined her at the table. “I bought that stuff one time, but you have a little more guilt when you have to look at the label every time you add it to your coffee.”
Popping open the doughnut box, she perused the selection. “Two of each kind?”
“That way we won’t have to engage in mortal combat if we like the same kind.”
“What if I want both jelly doughnuts?”
His eyes narrowed for a minute and then his mouth curved into a smile that promised nothing but mischief. “Then we’ll have to negotiate my surrender, if I agree to your terms.”
It was utterly ridiculous that a conversation about jelly doughnuts should be such a turn-on, but Cait was hard-pressed not to squirm in her chair. Then he took a big bite out of a chocolate glazed and she laughed at the chocolate stuck to his mouth.
They talked about nothing much while they ate two doughnuts each and drank their coffee. The movie she’d watched in the tub—the mention of which had put that hot, hungry look in his eyes—and the miracle of plumbing that were his dual shower heads.
She ate the second doughnut more slowly, trying to stretch out the time they had left together. Once breakfast was over, there was really no reason for her to stay, but she didn’t want to go without...something. At the very least a plan to get together again.
Once her coffee was gone, Cait reluctantly got up. She threw away the cup and napkin, then rinsed her hands at the sink. When she turned, Gavin was standing close, his hip resting against the counter. He wasn’t close enough to crowd her, but closer than a casual acquaintance.
“I’m glad you enjoyed your night here,” he said softly.
“I did. Thank you.” There were other things she’d enjoy doing here, too.
“You should come back anytime. I mean that. Just pop in.”
He was nervous. She could tell by the tightness in his jaw and the way his pinkie was tapping against his jeans.
Screw this. She was tired of dancing around it.
Reaching out, she snagged the front of his T-shirt and hauled him close, rising up on her toes to press her lips to his.
That was all the invitation he seemed to need. There was no hesitation or feeling each other out. His mouth claimed hers with a hunger that matched her own. He had one hand on her hip and one in her hair, and she ran her hands up his back.
His kiss was hot and intense, and she dug her fingertips into the muscles of his back. His hand tightened in her hair in response. He moved closer, pinning her body between his and the counter as one of his knees slid between her legs.
Yes and finally were the only two words Cait had left in her vocabulary as his tongue skimmed over hers.
When she caught his lip with her teeth, Gavin moaned and his thigh pressed harder between her legs.
She wanted him naked. Now would be good, although she’d be happy to go first if he wanted her to.
He broke off the kiss, lifting his head and dropping his hand from her hair to her shoulder. She wanted to say something, but her brain was fuzzy with desire and she was a little out of breath.
He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you for quite a while, and it was still better than I imagined it would be.”
“You don’t have to stop.” And he didn’t need to stop with her mouth, either.
He made a sound that was part sigh and part low growl. “What time do you have to be home?”
“I don’t have a curfew, seeing as how I’m a grown woman and so is my mother.”
“So here’s the deal.” He paused for a second, as if he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. “I promised myself I wouldn’t hit on you while you were here, until you’d left and I found a different reason to get you back here.”
“You asked if I was naked in your bed and told me you had a raging hard-on. And we were just kissing.”
He actually blushed, which she found adorable. “Okay, I promised myself I wouldn’t touch you, then. And you kissed me first, so I’m not counting that. But the longer we’re here, the harder it gets.”
“Literally?” she asked, and then she slapped her hand over mouth when he laughed. “Sorry.”
“Yes, literally, smart-ass.”
“Leaving the apartment is kind of a technicality, don’t you think? I had my sleepover and now it’s over.”
“I...want to say yes, but I had some strong feelings about what a douche move it would be for me to take advantage of you having some time to yourself, so it’s going to be a thing for me.”
Watching him struggle with his sense of honor—as overrated as she thought this particular battle was—gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. He was trying so hard to be a gentleman. “What if I go drive around the block and come back?”
He laughed, but shook his head. “You want to grab a pizza?”
Pizza. She wasn’t sure if somebody had told him pizza was her dietary Achilles’ heel or if it was a lucky guess, but it was a sure thing, as distractions went.
Hell, yes. She very much wanted to grab a pizza, but she’d already had so many cheat days that month, she wasn’t sure she could really call them cheat days anymore. They didn’t always eat well on shift—fast and easy rarely equaled healthy—so she tried to make halfway decent choices on her own time. And there were the doughnuts she’d already eaten to consider.
“You know you want to,” he said when she didn’t respond right away. “I can see it on your face.”
“It’s not even noon. And we just had doughnuts.”
“It’ll be lunchtime by the time we get there.”
She frowned. “Where, exactly, are you planning to get pizza?”
“Brockton.”
“You’re taking me to Brockton for our first date?”
He broke out the charming smile. “So it is a date, then?”
“Yeah, I’ll have pizza with you. And it’s a date.” When he scowled slightly, she cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m trying to figure out if there’s any way I can make it the second or third date.”
“Nope.” She shook her head firmly. “Veggie omelets together wasn’t a date. That was an apology. And beer at Kincaid’s could have been our first date, but you blew that. And being here now isn’t a date. So pizza in Brockton will be our fi
rst date.”
She really hoped Gavin didn’t have a thing about putting out on the first date because she had plans for him later. And if he was still trying to be a gentleman, then...well, they’d just have to negotiate terms for his surrender.
* * *
Cait wasn’t sure what was so special about the place Gavin brought her, but she’d enjoyed the drive. They took his truck and, after skipping over the country stations as quickly as possible, he found a radio station with songs she didn’t hate. He kept the music low, anyway, while they talked—mostly funny stories from their childhoods. They both had very bossy older sisters, so they bonded over that.
He held her hand, their arms resting on the center console, and every once in a while, he would run the tip of his thumb in circles against her palm.
It wasn’t a bad way to spend almost forty minutes on the road. And he’d been right. She was hungry for actual food by the time they pulled into the parking lot.
She didn’t even think to wait for him to walk around and open her door for him, but he met her in front of the truck and held out his hand. When she threaded her fingers through his, she felt a fleeting sense of panic.
It hadn’t been so long ago that the mere sight of him was enough to annoy her. And yet here they were, holding hands like they were a couple. Were they a couple? Or was this just an extension of the very mini vacation from her life he’d offered her with his apartment?
She didn’t know, but it felt right and she was enjoying herself, so she was going to go with it.
“So what kind of pizza do you like?” he asked, once they’d been seated at a fairly private table and given menus. They were seated across from one another, and his leg rested lightly against hers.
She shrugged, because she wasn’t really picky. “I like most toppings that aren’t vegetables. Except mushrooms, I guess. They aren’t my favorite, but I can live with mushrooms in a combo with something else. My mom loves them, so I’ve had to develop coping skills over the years.”
“How about buffalo macaroni and cheese?”
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