by Cathryn Fox
She looked around, her gaze zeroing in on the chair in the corner. “Did you sleep in the chair?”
“Yeah.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” She smoothed her matted hair from her face. “You should have gone home.”
“No, I’m right where I needed to be.” He put his hand over hers and brushed his thumb over her wrist.
“You’re always worried about me but you need to take better care of yourself. You work too hard, don’t eat right, and don’t sleep right.”
“Yet you’re the one who’s sick,” he teased.
She lifted her hand like she was going to jab his chest, then dropped it again. Jesus, her energy was low. “And if you don’t take better care of yourself, you’ll be next. But don’t worry, as soon as I get better, I’m going to make sure you eat and sleep right.” Her eyes drifted shut and for a second, he thought she was asleep again. “I’m going to take care of you, Carson,” she whispered. “I’m going to make sure you eat right at work, and sleep well when you’re off. We’ve been having fun, and I haven’t given enough consideration to what you need.”
His heart missed a beat as the flu broke down her defenses. Open, honest, kind, and lacking artifice, this was the Gemma he knew and loved.
Loved?
He swallowed the lump in his throat and struggled to find his voice. “Speaking of work,” he said quietly. “I have the night shift again.”
She nodded. “Go, get some sleep. Gracie and I are just fine.”
“You’re coming with me.”
“To work?”
“No, to my place. If I could stay here and take care of you, I would. But we’re short staffed, and I need to be there for the patients.”
“You don’t have a place.”
He nodded. After he’d found Gemma, she’d become his priority over finding his own apartment. “You’re right, and maybe it’s time I rectify that. But for now, I’ll take you to my parents’. They have air-conditioning, and you’ll be much more comfortable until this fever breaks.”
“I don’t want them to get sick.”
“They won’t. They got a flu shot.”
She moaned, and he stood over her. She turned and pulled the blanket over her head, hiding from him.
“You know I can still see you, right?”
“You’re not going to leave, are you?”
“No.” He pulled the blanket from her head.
“Carson, I’m fine.” Her voice was as weak as her body.
“If you won’t do it for you, will you do it for me?”
“What do you mean?”
“If I’m at work worried about you, I won’t be able to do my job.”
She pursed her lips and rolled over. A long time later, she whispered, “Fine. I’ll go. Not because you’re being a stubborn ass, but because I don’t want to keep you from your patients. And I like air-conditioning.”
He wrapped a blanket around her and scooped her up. “Did you just call me an ass?”
“A stubborn ass,” she corrected.
He laughed, and drew her hot body in next to his.
She blinked, her glassy eyes going to his. “Wait, what about Gracie?”
“She’s coming, too.”
Her head fell against his chest, her breath hot on his neck. “Your mother will hate that.”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Then she’ll hate me.”
“Why do you want her to hate you?”
“To make it easier when we end this fake engagement.”
Her words hit him like a sucker punch. He didn’t fucking want this to be over. Gemma was sweet, vulnerable, kind, and cared about his well-being. Cared about him, as a man, not for what he could do for her. Possessiveness ripped through him. She was a runner, afraid of getting hurt, but he wanted to give her everything she desired, and more importantly, everything she needed.
So what the hell was he going to do about it?
Chapter Twelve
The last thing Gemma expected was to spend two weeks living in Diane and Alistair’s mansion, or for them to fall in love with her sweet baby girl, Gracie. Gemma had beaten the flu a week ago, but they refused to let her leave, even going so far as to drive her back and forth to work after she recovered, taking over Carson’s loving fiancé duties when he was working the night shift and unable to watch over her. Honest to God, she’d never been so pampered, so mothered, in her entire life.
It was…it was… What was the right word? Oh yeah. Perfect. Everything she’d always wanted, but never had, which was why it had been so easy to convince her to stay. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them back. She wasn’t supposed to get close, to let anyone in. She exhaled slowly and took a sip of her coffee as she watched the early morning sun glint on the ocean and dance off the aluminum mast on Carson’s grandfather’s sailboat. It was a beautiful boat, and her heart warmed as she thought about the wonderful times Carson had shared with his granddad out on the water.
“Gemma, there you are,” Diane said, coming into the living room to meet her, Gracie trotting happily at her heels.
Gemma tore her gaze from the sailboat, and smiled when Diane handed her a piece of paper. With her engagement-planning journal tucked under her arm, Diane grinned. “Another order has just come in.”
Gemma shook her head, flabbergasted by Diane’s generosity—and her numerous contacts. “Another one?”
“I told you I had connections in Manhattan.” She wagged her finger. “Soon enough I’ll convince you to open your boutique there.” She lowered herself onto the sofa next to Gemma and captured her hand. Her smile fell, and her eyes became serious. “Plus, when grandkids come into the picture, we want to be close.”
Guilt swamped Gemma, her stomach twisting into knots. Diane had been so kind and accepting of her and Gracie. When she and Carson faked their breakup, it was going to be so hard on everyone…Gemma included. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “I’m not sure—”
“Hey, you two, what’s up?” Carson asked, and Gracie made a beeline for him. He covered his crotch, and Gemma couldn’t help but grin.
Gemma shook the paper in her hand, and pushed down all the things she was feeling for Carson…and his family. “Well, your mom has been very busy helping me build my business. I have enough orders here to last until Christmas. I’m not joking, Carson. I’ll need all my inventory, and will have to actually turn away any new business.”
Carson leaned into her, and dropped a kiss onto her mouth, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Her body reacted to his closeness. They’d slept in separate rooms for the last two weeks. Despite the fact that they were “engaged,” Gemma didn’t feel right having sex under his parents’ roof. Regardless, the ease between them, the comfort level and intimacy, had grown far more than she ever should have allowed.
When this ends, I’m seriously going to need electric shock therapy to get over him.
She sucked in a breath and gave herself a quick lecture. It was time for her to get her head on straight. “I have to get going. I work the lunch crowd today, so I need to get home and get ready.”
“I have an early shift, too.” Carson reached for her hand to pull her up. “I’ll drop you off.”
She turned to Diane. “Thanks so much for taking care of me these last two weeks. But I need to get to work on these orders.” She waved the paper in her hand.
“Of course. Think about what I said about Manhattan, though.”
“I will.”
Diane tapped the book under her arm. “Oh, and we still need to make a few more arrangements for the engagement party. When is a good time for you?”
Gemma looked to Carson, waiting for him to come to her rescue. When this arrangement had first started, he’d told Gemma he’d find a way to put a stop to the party. Yet lately, every time his mom brought it up, he went silent. She nudged him, but instead of saying something, his knuckles touched hers, a furtive brush that made it hard for her to think.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Gemma finally said.
“Oh don’t be silly. Of course it’s a good idea. I just need to talk to you about a few last minute decorations.”
Gemma exhaled slowly and nodded. “I’d better grab my stuff.” She hurried to the spare bedroom, gathered her clothes, and met Carson by the front door.
The smile on his face when he saw her weakened her knees. He leaned in for another kiss. “All set?” he asked.
“Yeah. Come on, Gracie.”
Once they were in his car, away from listening ears, she turned to face him. “We can’t go through with this party, Carson.”
His hand closed over her leg. “I think it will be fine.”
What the hell?
She was about to argue when the sound of an ambulance reached her ears. Carson stiffened, going straight into doctor mode. He hurried through the streets, dropped her and Gracie off, and, after a quick kiss, drove to the hospital.
Two hours later, after settling Gracie in and going over her inventory, Gemma stood inside Score tying her apron around her waist when Andy came in.
Andy looked her over as Gemma poured them both a soda. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?” She grinned and pointed a finger. “Never mind. I already know.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.”
“Seriously though, Gemma. What’s wrong? You look like you lost your best friend, but I know that didn’t happen because I’m standing right here. Not that I’ve seen much of you lately, but we’re still besties.”
“Let’s sit.” They grabbed their drinks and slipped into a booth. There were only a few patrons in the bar, and they were seated in Sondra’s section, so Gemma had a few minutes to spare before the rush hit. “None of this is right,” she finally said. “With Carson, I mean, and our fake engagement.”
“I don’t know about that. I’ve never seen your skin so clear,” Andy said, a note of amusement in her voice. “All the sex has been good for you.”
“I know. But I can’t take the money. It’s not right.”
Andy went quiet for a long time, toying with her straw and sipping her soda. “Then don’t take it. You’ll find other ways to expand your business.”
“It’s actually blowing up.”
“Yeah, how?”
“Carson’s mom has brought me hundreds of orders. She has tons of contacts. Some boutiques want to carry my pieces on commission, and some of her friends want to buy pieces outright. I’ll have every cent, and every piece I own tied up, but the payoff at the end of the summer when I deliver will be huge.”
“If everything is so great, why are you still so unhappy?”
“His mom is planning an engagement party. She wants to have it mid-August, before we stage our breakup.”
Andy pushed back in her seat. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Carson said he’d get us out of it, but now every time she brings it up, he goes quiet.”
“Really?” She made a little throaty noise. “How interesting.”
Gemma drummed her fingers on the table. “What’s so interesting?”
“Maybe he wants it, Gemma. Maybe he wants it to be real.”
She laughed, even though there was nothing funny about this situation. Andy couldn’t be right. Could she? Unable to help herself, she let her mind wander. Visions of herself dressed in a white gown, walking down the aisle toward Carson, rushed through her brain. The image lingered for a moment then burst wide open, the remnants falling over her like a millions pieces of broken glass.
What am I doing?
Carson had told her he wasn’t interested in more, and he hated people who were fake. He’d also pretty much told her straight up he knew she was one.
Wait! Did that mean he knew she wasn’t a girl who slept around, and that she only pretended to be wild?
Was it possible that he knew the real Gemma, the one who hid behind the mask to protect herself? Could he like that girl, want more from her?
Did she dare hope?
Someone slipped out from the booth behind them, and Gemma turned. Her heart went into her throat when she saw Audra and some other woman walk to the door, the heels of their Louboutins tapping on the wood floor.
Her stomach twisted. “Oh, my God, Andy. Do you think she overheard? I didn’t even know she was there.”
“No, we were talking quietly, and the music would have drowned out our voices.”
“I sure hope so, otherwise this could be disastrous.”
“I think you’re fine. She would have said something.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. She’d be all over that information.” A steady stream of customers made their way inside, and Gemma glanced at her watch and jumped up. “I’d better get to work.”
Before she knew it, she was lost in the lunch rush, and the next two hours flew by in a blur of food and drinks. As the last of her customers left, Gemma, her elbows planted on the bar, glanced at the clock. Carson hadn’t come in for anything to eat. It probably had something to do with the ambulance they’d heard earlier. Gemma had no doubt he’d worked through his lunch and was starving. The man was always putting everyone else’s needs before his own.
With that last thought in mind, she pushed away from the bar, stepped into the kitchen, and put in an order. If he couldn’t come to her, she’d go to him. She had, after all, promised she’d take better care of him. But before she brought him lunch, there was one very important, very secret stop she had to make first.
Thirty minutes later, takeout bag in hand, she walked into the emergency room and stepped up to the nurses’ station. “Is Carson here?” She held up the bag. “I have a delivery for him.” The nurse opened her mouth to speak then shut it again and smiled.
“Hey.”
She turned at the familiar voice, and when she found Carson coming her way, looking sinfully sexy in his scrubs, with a stethoscope around his neck, a rush of sexual energy hit like a triple shot of espresso. She took a breath, barely able to fill her lungs. Man, the guy was addictive, and she had no idea how she was going to quit him.
“Lunch delivery.” She showed him the bag and strove to keep herself together. How the hell she was supposed to present a professional, calm demeanor when he was standing there looking like Dr. McDreamy was beyond her.
He angled his head. “You brought me lunch?” His brow furrowed, surprise backlighting his baby blues. She nodded, and he stood there looking at her for a long moment—longer than was comfortable, especially when they were drawing attention to themselves. Feeling a little awkward, she fidgeted.
“Carson?” she whispered, wanting him to say something, to do something.
He grabbed her hand roughly, his intensity almost frightening. “Come with me.”
“Where to?”
“Doctor’s lounge.” Looking edgy and tormented, he ushered her down the hall. They stopped outside a locked door, and he punched in a code. He opened the door, pulled her inside, and closed it tightly behind them.
Muscles rigid, he took the bag from her and set it on the table. When he turned back to her, the heat in his eyes licked her from head to toe and fired her blood.
“Do you have any idea how hard the last two weeks have been?” he asked. He leaned in, his tongue skating across her bottom lip as he pushed against her.
She felt his hardness. Rock solid and ready to go. Her sex clenched, and a little cry of need caught in her throat. “Uh, yeah, actually I do.”
His mouth found hers. The urgency behind his kisses fueled the desire inside her. Sensations tore through her, stirring her need for him. “Not having you alone has damn near killed me. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before.”
His lips went to her neck, and as he rained hungry kisses over her throat, she moaned. “Stay at my place tonight,” she said. “We’ll rectify that.”
“No.” His eyes flared hot. “Can’t wait that long.” He put his hands on her waist, and in one smooth movement, he turned her until she was facing away
from him. He captured her wrists and placed her hands above her head, her palms flat against the wall.
“Carson,” she said, her voice a breathless whisper. “What are you doing?”
He put his mouth near her ear. “Whatever I want,” he said, the heat in his voice curling her toes. Hands that were commanding yet soft went to her thigh, and slipped under her skirt. Warm fingers slid upward and gripped her panties, and her nipples swelled. He fingered the lace and a gasp caught in her throat when he ripped them from her hips.
Ohmigod, they were going to have up-against-the-wall sex, right here in the doctors’ lounge.
She wet her dry lips, and her breath grew shallow. “What if someone comes?” she asked.
His tortured laugh curled around her. “Oh, yeah. Someone’s definitely going to come.”
He stroked her sex, touching her with warmth and familiarity, and she moaned, all worries of getting caught forgotten. As she abandoned any sort of rational thought, the air around them charged, need swamping them both. He slipped a finger inside her and stroked deep. Her body trembled, and she sagged against the wall.
“That is so good,” she murmured.
The sound of his zipper opening cut the silence, and she moved against the wall, her body ready, eager…anxious…for him to be inside her. One strong hand wrapped around her waist and he tugged, lifting her ass up in the air.
“Nice,” he said, pulling her skirt up to expose her backside. He kicked her legs open wider and tucked her bottom against his groin. “You are so beautiful.” His cock slipped between her legs, brushed over her sex. Her body needy, she wiggled, and he leaned over her, his breath hot on her skin as he thrust into her, driving so hard that if he wasn’t holding her, she would have crashed against the wall. As their bodies fused as one, she closed her eyes against the flood of heat, everything inside her screaming for this, and so much more, as he plunged in and out.
Dizzy, wild, feverish with need as he hammered her against the wall, she reared back to meet his thrusts. “Harder,” she cried out, not even caring if anyone heard her cries.
He adjusted his footing and pounded into her faster, exploring her deeper, as if he couldn’t get enough. He grunted, his fingers biting into her hips hard enough to leave her bruised. Lost in a haze of arousal, she held the wall with shaky hands, her body trembling, pressure building.