by Lucy Score
But as she ticked off the reasons for keeping her distance, none of them held the weight against the argument her post-orgasmic body was making. She liked him. Even when he was being a temperamental ass. He pushed her outside of her comfort zone, challenging her at all turns. And she was stronger because of it.
Paige blinked, convinced the spectacle approaching the truck was a post-orgasmic hallucination. Gannon was loaded down with shopping bags. Clipped to his jeans was a bouquet of balloons proclaiming birthday sentiments. Flowers peeked out of one of the bags.
He opened his door and started shoving bags and balloons into the backseat. “Don’t look at this stuff,” he ordered, pointing a finger at her. “You just turn your pretty little self around and ignore everything back here.”
She turned around, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he countered.
They drove the half dozen blocks to his apartment, and when Paige tried to help unload, he slapped her hands away. “Go upstairs and unlock the door,” he said, tossing his keys at her.
Relieved that she didn’t have to be part of the attention-calling birthday parade, Paige jogged up the three flights of stairs and let herself into the apartment. Not much had changed since her last visit this summer. The couch was still leather and battered, the kitchen was still tiny, and the bedroom still reminded her of long, late hours of pleasure.
She did find something new here. The shelf next to the TV held a framed picture that hadn’t been there before. She picked it up to examine it. It was one of the candid shots from the set of Kings of Construction. Paige was standing hands on hips in a tank top and shorts, giving orders and grinning. They were at the Russes’, mid-shoot.
She heard the commotion in the hallway and put the frame down just as Gannon stormed in with his haul. He kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the lot on the kitchen counter. Without bothering to unclip the balloons from his belt, he yanked a bottle of wine out of the cabinet and opened it.
He poured a glass and handed it to her, the balloons buffeting against each other over his head. She couldn’t not laugh. A scowling birthday fairy delivering wine? No one could keep a straight face.
“Take your wine and go take a shower.” He started unloading items from the bags. She spotted a giant box of condoms and raised her eyebrows.
“That should get us through the night,” she quipped.
He held out a shopping bag to her. “Shower,” he insisted. The giant smiley face balloon with hearts for eyes peeking over his head ruined the effect.
She sidled up to him. “What are you going to be doing while I’m naked and soapy in your shower?” Now that she’d had him again, she wasn’t even close to done with him for the night.
He leaned down, kissing her hard and then nipping her lower lip. “Taking care of dinner.”
“I’m not that hungry.” She rose up on her toes to press a soft, suggestive kiss to his mouth. He deepened the kiss, his hands settling on her hips. She let him take the lead as he walked her backwards. Her body was humming to life again, a slow burn that began to build in her belly and lower.
She felt cold tile under her feet and Gannon’s heat at her front. He pulled back, and she stared up into his lust-glazed eyes.
“We have all night,” he promised as if he was reminding himself as much as her. “Shower, dinner, dessert.”
The way he said dessert gave Paige a delicious shiver up her spine.
“Sure you don’t want to skip straight to dessert?” she offered.
“If you keep looking at me like that, it’ll be more like breakfast.” He closed the door harder than necessary.
Paige caught her reflection in the mirror over his vanity. She saw flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and a kind of excitement that glowed from within. That’s what Gannon did to her. She felt loose, relaxed, good.
Maybe a shower wasn’t a bad idea, she decided. She poked through the grocery bag he’d shoved at her and was delighted to find her favorite shampoo, conditioner, body wash, even moisturizer. He’d thrown in a few impulse items, too, she noted with amusement. There were two tubes of Chap Stick, a stick of deodorant, and a new toothbrush.
It looked like she’d been invited to spend the night. And with an early shoot start tomorrow, she certainly wouldn’t complain about the shorter commute from Gannon’s apartment. Not that a night in Gannon’s bed left much to complain about.
She cranked on the hot water in the shower stall and stripped. Looking at her wine, she shrugged. What the hell? It was her birthday after all. She took the glass with her into the steam.
––—
Hair still damp and body now clean, Paige padded into the kitchen in one of Gannon’s tshirts and her own underwear. She wasn’t sure which of them was more startled by the other. Gannon, raised his head and promptly dropped the spoon he was using to abuse a bowl of something dark and chocolaty.
He’d lost his shirt, splattered with the same dark chocolaty substance from the bowl, while she was in the shower and replaced it with a Kiss the Cook grilling apron. He stood eyeing her, bare feet braced, jeans low on his hips, and a sexy as sin half grin on his face.
“You look good in my shirt.”
“You look good in your apron.”
There were two large grilled chicken salads still in their plastic containers on the counter. He picked up the spoon and rinsed it in the sink before returning to the bowl.
“Whatcha making there, Chef King?” Paige asked, topping of her wine glass and sneaking behind him to fetch a beer for him from the fridge. She twisted the top and set the bottle on the skinny scrap of counter next to him.
“Do me a favor and peel the stickers off of those things,” he said jerking his chin toward the muffin tins peeking out of their own grocery bag.
“You can’t be serious,” Paige demanded, her brain refusing to make sense of what was happening.
“They’re stickers,” he insisted, missing the point. “It’s not that complicated. Get a grip, princess.”
“You’re baking me cupcakes.”
“Yeah, well if you would have bothered to share anything personal at all like the fact that it was your birthday, it would have been a really nice Death by Chocolate cake from the bakery around the corner. But you didn’t, so you have to deal with these. Peel.”
Words failed her. Gannon King was baking her cupcakes on her birthday and yelling at her about it.
She slipped her arms around his waist from behind and laid her forehead against his muscled back. “You’re not going to cry, are you?” he asked gruffly.
Her lips curved. “No.”
“Good, save it for when they’re done and burnt, and you still have to eat them or you’ll hurt my feelings.”
The cupcakes were only a little burnt. But Gannon made up for it with the yellow crown candle he lit and stuck in the chocolate frosting of one. He didn’t sing her “Happy Birthday” which would have only embarrassed them both, but he did demand she make a wish.
And when the second can of chocolate frosting was put to even more decadent use a little later, Paige felt like her wish had come true.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The next morning Paige woke up wrapped in the sanctuary of Gannon’s inked arms to good news.
“What’s that?” Gannon grumbled, squinting at her phone over her shoulder.
Paige held up the phone. “That’s Malia and her doctor. She’s wrapping up her treatments this week. Carina says she’s cautiously optimistic… and she thinks Malia’s doctor is a hottie.”
“Replacing me so soon?” Gannon sighed, burying his face in her neck.
“You’re still the King of Hotness,” Paige promised. She wiggled her butt against him and was rewarded with the prod of his erection.
“Don’t you forget it,” he said, his voice muffled by her hair. “Do you keep in touch with a lot of the families from the show?”
“Just a few each season.” Paige sent Carin
a a reply with several exclamation points. “The Dufours and the Ledlers.”
“From the last show?” Gannon latched on to that. He rolled her onto her back and busied himself raining kisses over her chest and shoulders.
She hissed in a breath when he lazily ran the rough of his tongue over her nipple. “I felt… bad. About leaving before the reveal.” She arched against him, her body awake enough to demand more of the pleasures of the night. “I flew back out in September to see them and got to meet their new daughters.”
Gannon lifted his head. “No shit? Really?”
“Huh?” Paige’s brain was clouded with the heavy fog of lust.
“The adoption? It was finalized?” he prompted. Gannon accented his question with a bite on her shoulder. “Are they using the cribs?”
“Ouch! Yes. I have pictures.” Gannon had designed and built two cribs for the twin girls. Cribs that were at the heart of a happy family. “What time is it?” she frowned.
He picked up her phone and looked at the clock.
“We either have time for showers and breakfast here, but I make shitty eggs and burnt toast, or we can see just how efficient we are between the sheets and grab coffee and breakfast sandwiches to go.”
––—
They were very efficient it turned out. Efficient enough that Gannon felt like his taste of Paige was more an appetizer than a meal. He’d remedy that tonight after shooting wrapped. He followed Paige into the bathroom and watched her frowning at her tangle of hair.
“I should have dried it last night. It looks like a rat’s nest condominium.”
He reached behind the bathroom door, yanked a Kings Construction hat off the hook, and settled it over her dark curls. “There. Problem solved.”
She tugged the brim lower, tucked her hair behind her ears, and managed to look adorable. He reached over and adjusted the fit.
Paige grinned at him. And not just the work smile, the full on blinding wattage that punched him in the chest every damn time. Her blue eyes were warm beneath the bill of his hat, her face bare and unbelievably pretty. His heart took that stumbling stutter.
“What?” she asked, cocking her head.
He wasn’t going to blow it all now by professing his undying love to her. Again. He had a plan and he needed to stick to it.
He shrugged and reached for his toothbrush. “Nothing. I’m just liking how this day started.”
Paige pulled her toothbrush out of the holder and rinsed it under the water. “Listen,” she began, reaching for the toothpaste. “To avoid repeating any past mistakes, I want to be clear about something.”
Gannon snatched it away from her and squirted some on his toothbrush. She swiped it back and spread some neatly on her brush.
“Why do I have the feeling that you’re about to piss me off?” he asked, brushing vigorously.
“I’m not trying to piss you off,” Paige insisted. “I just want to make sure you understand that I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”
He stopped brushing and stared her down in the mirror. “Sure know how to make a guy feel special, Paige.”
She wrinkled her nose at him and bent to spit. “You know what I mean. I like you Gannon. I like being with you. But I don’t have the time to devote to a relationship.”
He turned on the water in the sink, spat, and rinsed. “But you want to continue to have sex?”
She looked guilty. “Well, yeah.”
“And you’re not having it with anyone else?”
“Of course not! And neither are you, by the way.” She rinsed and caught the towel he threw at her.
“So we’re having monogamous sex. What about dinner? Do I get to have meals with you?”
“I know what you’re doing,” she warned him. She pointed her toothbrush at him.
“Meals, sex, probably some sleepovers.” He ticked the items off. “But not a relationship.”
“I just don’t want you to expect things from me like…”
“Like what? What does a relationship mean to you, Paige?”
“I haven’t given it much thought.”
“Yet you’re positive you don’t want to make time for one?”
“Look, I just want to be straight with you. Okay? I don’t want to be thinking about next steps and questioning what we are and aren’t. I want to focus on work.”
“So no relationship.” Gannon clarified.
Paige looked relieved. “Yes. No relationship.”
“Agree to disagree.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Hurry up, princess. I need coffee.” He sauntered out of the bathroom leaving her glaring after him.
“So glad that’s settled,” she scowled.
––—
When they got to the brownstone, Paige was happy to realize both crews were already assembled. A jump on the schedule never hurt any TV show. However, her dreams of being ahead of schedule were dashed when she pushed open the front door.
“Surprise!”
She would have turned around and run, but Gannon and his chest were blocking her. Felicia had her hands full of a tray towering with donuts and bagels. Cat in skinny jeans and an azure off-the-shoulder sweater skipped over, a chintzy dollar store tiara in her hands.
“You didn’t think you could sneak your birthday past us, did you?” she teased, settling the tiara on top of Paige’s hat.
“Technically I did, and this is the day after,” Paige muttered, shooting Gannon a dirty look over her shoulder.
He winked and shoved her forward into the melee. There was coffee, every breakfast carb known to man, and then quite possibly the worst rendition of “Happy Birthday” ever performed in the history of the song.
Bradley pocketed his phone after the singing came to an end. “This is going to be gold for the blog,” he said, cheerfully biting into an everything bagel slathered with sour cream and chive cream cheese.
Flynn, to Paige’s eternal embarrassment, presented her with a gift bag containing a new tank top proclaiming her to be El Jefe and a peck on the cheek, which earned him a shove from Gannon.
They dined on donuts, bagels, danishes, and coffee, and Gannon announced the celebration could continue after work with pizza and beer. Paige finally convinced them all the party was over and that there wouldn’t be any pizza and beer unless they actually completed shooting for the day. As everyone scattered, she took a donut and a moment.
In less than twelve hours, he’d baked her cupcakes, thrown her an impromptu surprise party, and given her four body-shattering orgasms. It wasn’t going to end well, of that she was certain. Their feelings for each other were too volatile to have a polite going of the separate ways. No, it would be messy and painful and even without the inevitable break up, the demand on her time that a relationship with him would require would be astronomical.
But he’d gotten her balloons and remembered what brand of shampoo she used. He’d given her this job, this show, this opportunity. And what she felt for him, it didn’t fit so neatly in the like or lust boxes. It was something deeper. Something she wasn’t ready to name yet. She kicked at the metal leg of the work table that was buckling under the weight of tools and miscellaneous construction supplies.
And she’d be an asshole if she didn’t at least give this a shot.
Nail guns echoed from upstairs, and somewhere a duo of circular saws were making quick work of studs. She found Gannon in the kitchen checking measurements for the new back door onto the deck.
“Fine. We’re dating,” she announced, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “Happy?”
He looked up at her from where he kneeled on the floor. “Ecstatic.”
“If I screw this relationship up by not spending enough time with you or not meeting your needs or being too selfish, you have no one to blame but yourself,” Paige insisted.
“Consider me warned.” He climbed to his feet and swiped his palms on his jeans before grabbing for her. She was fast, but he was faster, and he was wrapping his arms around
her in a tight hug.
“We’re at work,” she reminded him, shooting nervous looks over his shoulder.
“Well, honey, that’s one of my needs. I’m not hiding this from my guys. They’re practically family. You can pretend to be whatever you need to be in front of your crew, but my guys would take it personally if I lied to them.”
“Damn it, Gannon.”
“We’re doing it right this time, and you’ve got to be ready to deal with the consequences. I’m not going to be your dirty little secret. Stop pouting.”
She felt the lines forming on her forehead. “I’m not pouting! I’m thinking. I’ve never announced a relationship before.”
“You’re putting too much thought into this,” he insisted.
Felicia wandered in munching on a chocolate éclair. “Hey, Paige. How many mics you think we’ll need today? I had two conk out on me. Pieces of shit.”
Gannon looked at Paige, nodded toward Felicia, and prodded her in the back.
“Uh, Felicia. I wanted to tell you… something.”
“You’re not shit canning me, are you?”
“Geez! No!”
“Well, you kind of had that nauseous ‘I have to fire you’ face.”
Gannon chuckled behind her. Paige shot him a dirty look over her shoulder. “No, it’s just I… Gannon and I are… we just started dating. And I wanted you to… you know… know.” Paige limped through her explanation.
“Okay, so I’m not fired, and you two are together?” Felicia clarified.
“Yeah, that’s the gist.”
Felicia whooped and picked up the mic of the headset she was wearing around her neck. “Bust open the kitty boys. Gaige is in the building!”
There were corresponded whoops and cheers from all floors of the house.
“You had money on this?” Paige covered her face with her hands.
Felicia shot her an incredulous look. “No one was going to bet against Gannon,” Felicia said. “I mean, look at him. Who says no to that?”
Gannon preened like a peacock.
“So what’s the money from?”
“We each threw twenty bucks into the pot to go out and celebrate when y’all started bumping uglies. Got quite the stash just waiting on you two.”