“Not always until three-thirty, I hope.” Gareth offered her his arm when they reached the uneven stone path at the bottom of the stairs.
Gwyn tucked her hand through the crook of his elbow with a naturalness that surprised her. “Only once in awhile. I’m too old for a steady diet of that.” She shivered in the night air.
“Cold?”
“A bit, but I don’t mind.”
She stumbled on the loose gravel and Gareth caught hold of her hand to steady her.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine, thanks.” She slowed her steps as they moved toward the unlit far corner of the parking lot, and Gareth followed suit. As her eyes adjusted to the increasing dark, she glanced up at the sky and glimpsed again the stars overhead. Without the glare of streetlamps to interfere, thousands more pinpricks of light studded the deep night.
“Oh,” she breathed. “There are so many of them.”
“Makes you realize how much we miss with all our city lights, doesn’t it?” Keeping his grip on her hand, Gareth drew her into the center of the parking lot, away from the trees overhanging the perimeter, their tangled branches obscuring part of the sky even in their leafless state.
“Look over there,” he said. His chest brushed against her back, solid and comfortable and a whole lot of other things that she tried very hard not to think about. He rested one of his hands on her shoulder and lifted the other to point upwards. Fighting the sudden urge to nestle into the potent male strength behind her, Gwyn made herself focus on his words.
“Just to the left of the Big Dipper, and a little bit up. See the long string of stars curving up and then back down again? That’s Draco. And there’s Ursa Minor – the Little Bear – you can see the Little Dipper inside it, with Polaris at the end of its handle, and up and to the right of that is Cassiopeia…”
Twenty minutes later, a thoroughly enchanted Gwyn shivered until her teeth clacked together. “I hate to leave,” she said. “But I’m not dressed for this.”
Gareth released her shoulders and stepped away. “Your teeth are chattering,” he said. “I’m sorry – ”
“Don’t be. That was my first-ever astronomy lesson. I loved it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Of course, you realize that I’ll have forgotten ninety per cent of it by tomorrow.” She paused as Gareth shrugged out of his coat. “What are you doing? Oh, no, Gareth, don’t. I’m fine, really.”
“I’m not shivering,” he pointed out. “You need it more than I do.”
Stepping in front of her, he reached around to lay his coat across her shoulders, wrapping her in warmth – his warmth. A faint male scent drifted upward from the fabric, tilting her world another degree away from reality.
Gwyn’s insides turned liquid.
Gareth placed his hand under her elbow. “Come on, let’s get you into the car where it’s warmer.”
Only after he’d seated her, tucked his coat over her legs, and slammed the door shut, did Gwyn remember to breathe.
Chapter 6
Gareth raised his head and cracked one eye open to peer at the clock. He turned a disbelieving gaze on his cousin, who was seated in the armchair beside the bed, grinning and using a booted foot to prod him in the ribs.
“Morning,” Sean said cheerfully.
Remaining on his stomach, Gareth buried his face in the pillow and growled, “It’s six a.m.”
“I know. I have court this morning, so they let me off early.”
“I don’t care if you’re flying to Mars. It’s still six a.m., and you’d better have one hell of a reason for waking me at this hour.”
“I’ll be gone again before you roll out of bed. I wanted to know how your date went.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Nope. Quite serious, actually. So? How was it?”
“Goodbye, Sean.”
Sean grunted. “I figured as much, when I found you here.”
Gareth puzzled over the statement for a second, then decided sleep had made his brain fuzzy. He raised his head again, along with one eyebrow. “What?”
“Well, if it had been any good, you’d have been at her place.”
This time he let out a pained groan as his head dropped. He rolled onto his back, away from Sean’s booted toe, and covered his eyes with his arm. “She has three kids, Sean. It could have been the most earth-shattering date in the world and I wouldn’t have stayed at her place.”
It may well have been the most earth-shattering date in the world, but that was beside the point.
Silence met his response, then Sean cleared his throat. “How many kids?”
“Three.”
“Just how old is this Gwen, anyway?”
“Gwyn,” Gareth corrected. “And she’s thirty-five. Not that it’s any of your business.”
More silence. Longer this time. Gareth pictured his eternal-bachelor-type cousin digesting his words and hid a wry smile. Maybe now he’d shut up and go away.
No such luck. Sean’s boot gave him another, even less gentle shove in the ribcage.
“You’re dating a thirty-five-year-old woman with three kids? Are you out of your mind?”
“Not that I’m aware of, no.”
“You’ve never dated anyone over the age of thirty in your life. Hell, you’re famous enough that you’ll probably never have to.”
Gareth sighed. “Is that supposed to be some kind of compliment?”
Sean ignored him. “Do you have any idea of the complications involved with someone like that?”
“Someone like what?” Gareth peered at his cousin from under his forearm.
“Middle-aged, kids, desperate – ” Sean broke off, waving his hands in the air. “You know.”
“She’s seven years younger than I am, and two years younger than you. I’m pretty sure she still has a little life left in her,” Gareth retorted, annoyance creeping into his voice. A memory sidled into his mind of Gwyn’s slender form in the body-hugging red dress she’d worn the night before. “And trust me, she’s a long way from needing to feel desperate.”
Sean gaped at him. “You like her.”
“Of course I like her. I wouldn’t have taken her out for dinner if I didn’t like her.”
“No. I mean, you like her. Enough to get involved with her.”
“I’m not getting involved with anyone,” Gareth disagreed. “I have enough on my plate right now.”
“You sure as hell do have.” Sean dropped his foot from the bed and stood. “And you’d be doing yourself a significant favor by remembering that.”
Unbuttoning his uniform shirt, he strolled toward the open door, pausing in the opening to look back. “So are you going to see her again?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Sean shook his head. “You really are out of your mind,” he said. “Oh, and before I forget, someone named Angela left a message last night, too. Way to collect ‘em, cuz.”
Gareth opened his mouth to correct his cousin, but Sean had already disappeared. Chasing after him to tell him Angela was nothing more than his agent seemed like way too much effort. Especially when he could employ his energy so much more pleasantly on other thoughts. He crossed his arms under his head and smiled at the ceiling.
Thoughts of certain “nice” single mothers, for instance.
***
“What do you mean, you can’t tell me until my birthday?” Sandy followed Gwyn into the kitchen, her voice pitched higher than normal in confusion. “That’s two weeks away. And what the heck does my birthday have to do with your mystery date, anyway?”
Gwyn sighed. “Give it up, Sandy. I’m not telling you.”
Sandy crossed her arms, bright blue eyes snapping beneath her shocking, red-dyed bangs. “Let me get this straight. I call last night to chat; Kirsten tells me you’re out with a man, dissolves into giggles and refuses to tell me another thing; I drive myself crazy with curiosity all blessed night; and now you won’t tell me any
thing, either?”
So Kirsten had refused to divulge any information, had she? That was a good sign, Gwyn thought, removing the last tray of peanut-butter cookies from the oven and switching off the temperature setting.
“In a nutshell, yes.”
“God damn it, Gwynneth– ”
“Language, Masters.”
“Fine. Then gosh darn it, Gwyn– ”
Gwyn giggled. Sandy was the only person in the world who could actually reduce her to giggles. But she still wasn’t about to ruin her birthday surprise by admitting Gareth’s identity, which would inevitably lead to an explanation of how she’d met him. She set the cookie tray on a wire rack and threw the blue plaid oven mitt at her friend.
“Would you please give it a rest? Don’t you have to go back to work soon?”
“Not for another half-hour,” said her friend, who had dropped by unannounced during her lunch break. “And I won’t give it a rest, because I’m hoping if I bug you long enough, you’ll tell me.”
“If you bug me long enough,” Gwyn corrected, “I’ll throw you out of my house. With no cookies.”
The phone on the counter by the fridge rang. Gwyn reached for it, turning back in time to smack Sandy’s fingers as her friend reached for the cookie tray. “Go away! Hello?”
“Is that me or one of your kids you’d like to go away?” Gareth’s deep voice asked in her ear.
Gwyn reached for the counter to steady herself. “It’s you.” She realized what she’d said, and added hastily, “I didn’t mean it’s you I’d like to go away, I meant – ”
“I know what you meant,” he replied with a rumble of amusement. “Did I call at a bad time?”
“No! No, not at all. I was just trying to fend off a cookie thief. My friend Sandy is over.”
Said thief raised an eyebrow, leaned on the center island with chin in hand, and listened without shame. Gwyn glared and turned her back on her.
“Did you manage to take a nap this morning?” Gareth asked.
“No, I ended up meeting with a client instead. But I’m fine. I wasn’t nearly as tired as I thought I’d be.”
Actually, she suspected she’d been functioning on pure adrenaline all day, because after Gareth had said goodnight to her on her front porch – in a moment tense with unexplored potential - she’d barely slept at all. But she didn’t see the need to admit so.
“What about you? Were you tired?”
“Only because Sean woke me up when he got in at six from work. He wanted to hear about my date.”
She tried not to ask, but her voice seemed beyond her control. “What did you tell him?”
“That it was none of his business.”
“Funny, I was just telling Sandy pretty much the same thing.”
“You know what would drive them really nuts, don’t you?”
“What?”
“A second date.”
Now her voice simply disappeared.
After a moment, Gareth asked, “Are you still there?”
“I’m here,” she croaked.
“I want to see you again, Gwyn.”
How did he do that? How did his voice reach through the phone line and make her feel as though he’d just picked up where he’d left off on her porch last night, when his lips had brushed the back of her hand in a gesture of gallantry she’d never experienced? As though her world had gone fuzzy for a moment, then come back into focus in a place she’d never been before?
“I know it’s a school night,” Gareth continued, “and that you probably have work to do, but– ”
She interrupted before her nerve failed – and before her better sense kicked in. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner, if you’d like.”
Silence met her invitation. She swallowed hard and put a hand to her hot face. Dear Lord, what was she thinking? You didn’t invite a man like Gareth Connor over to share a tossed-together weekday dinner with three kids and their frazzled, hopelessly gauche –
“I’d love to.”
He would?
Innate honesty prompted her to warn, “It’s nothing fancy.”
“Will you have any cookies left?”
She smiled. “I’ll try to keep some away from Sandy.”
“What time?”
“We eat early. Five o’clock.”
“Can I bring anything? Dessert?”
“If you’d like.”
“I’ll see you at five.”
Gwyn stared at the receiver in her hand for a long moment after it went dead, then she replaced it in its cradle and turned to Sandy. Her friend stared at her across the kitchen island, slack-jawed.
“Excuse me, but did I just hear you right?” Sandy squeaked. “Did you just invite a man into your home for dinner with you and the kids? You, Gwynneth Jacobs? With the iron-clad rule about never involving your children with your dates – what ridiculously few you’ve had?”
She ignored the jab. “The kids like him.”
“They’ve already met him?” Sandy’s mouth flapped a few times before she pulled herself together. “Gwyn, in the last four years, I can count on no hands the number of times you’ve introduced your kids to a new man in your life. Hell, I can count on no hands the number of times you’ve introduced them to any man in your life who isn’t permanently attached to another woman.”
“This is different.”
“I can see that.”
“Ga — “ Gwyn caught back the rest of Gareth’s name, recovered from her near slip, and said, “He’s only in Canada for a couple of weeks. It’s not like anything will happen.”
Both of Sandy’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under her bangs. “I have news for you, my friend. If you’ve let him cross your threshold, something already has.”
Chapter 7
“Sleep well, sweetie,” Gwyn said softly, closing Katie’s door behind her. She paused for a moment in the hallway, fighting the temptation to stop off in her bathroom and repair the ravages of the day before she went back downstairs to join Gareth.
And have him think you’re coming on to him? Do you really want to do that?
Well…honestly?
She pulled a face at herself in the hall mirror. No makeup, she told herself. No special efforts. He’s good company…
And incredibly attractive.
…and there might be a tiny spark of something there…
Understatement of the millennium, Gwynneth – you saw how he looked at you over dinner.
…but no way did she want it to go further.
Hah!
She gripped the handrail so tightly her fingers ached. This was getting her nowhere. She was a big girl – lord, she was a grown woman, the single mother of three, a successful architect…she could handle this. So she’d broken a rule or two, bringing Gareth into her home and her kids’ lives. It didn’t mean anything, regardless of what Sandy said. It just happened to work out that way.
She took a deep breath and through sheer force of will, set her foot on the first step of the descent.
She’d go downstairs, offer him a coffee, and go about her usual routine. By the time she’d tidied the kitchen and made Katie’s lunch for tomorrow, he’d be ready to leave. It was simple. Really.
There was nothing to it.
She stepped off the stairs into the main floor hallway and made her way to the kitchen at the back of the house. Gareth turned at her arrival, his denim shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. Wiping his hands dry on a tea towel, he smiled.
“All tucked in?” he asked.
Gwyn nodded. She stared at her kitchen. “You shouldn’t have done this,” she said, waving a hand to encompass the room. “I didn’t expect you to.”
“You made the dinner,” he pointed out. “The least I could do was clean up. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind? Common sense said that she shouldn’t, of course. After all, the kitchen surrounding him gleamed. Dishes had disappeared from the counters, and pots and pans had been washed, dried, and put away, a
ll in the same night. That never happened.
And now – she twisted her hands together - now she had nothing left to keep her busy. Nothing to put between her and the man standing a scant few feet away, looking far more at ease in her home than she herself felt at the moment. She dug her fingernails into her palms.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
Gareth threaded the tea towel he held through the fridge door handle. What would Gwyn do if she knew the real reason he’d cleaned her kitchen for her? If she knew he would have mucked out a barn if he’d had to, just to keep himself busy? Just to keep from dwelling on the tantalizing knowledge that when she came downstairs, they would be alone. The two of them. No kids. No interruptions. No distractions.
He watched her slender, ringless fingers pluck at her long navy skirt. She cleared her throat.
“Would you like some coffee?” she asked.
The slight tremor in her voice told him that she, too, had felt the tension kick up a notch between them.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
He should leave. He’d decided he would, while he’d been submerged up to his elbows in soapy water, listening to her steps overhead. Decided that his cousin, in spite of being nosey, had been right. He had too much at stake right now to risk an involvement, and involvement with Gwyn Jacobs would be all too easy. Something about her – her ease, her naturalness -
He brought his thoughts up short. The silence between them grew uncomfortable. Just say it, Connor. Say thanks for dinner, but I really should be going. Say it’s been nice meeting you, but –
He nodded towards the dining room, separated from the kitchen by French doors. “Is that where you work? May I see?”
Gwyn looked surprised at the sudden request, but not as surprised as Gareth felt. That wasn’t anything near what he’d intended to say. Still, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick look around - for the sake of politeness, of course - before he left.
He followed her to the French doors. Opening them, she stood aside. He stepped past her and paused in the doorway, hands tucked into jeans pockets, surveying the room.
Books were stacked across nearly every surface, rolls of papers sat in the corners and filled boxes underneath tables, and he couldn’t see so much as a square inch of either desk or tabletop under the clutter strewn across them. Given the order he’d seen in the rest of her house and the obvious routine of her family, the utter chaos startled him.
Gwynneth Ever After Page 4