“She’ll hate every minute of being laid up. You know my mom—she likes to be active.”
“We’ll entertain her.”
Gage smiled, his eyes warm. “We will?”
“I’ll do my best. I know she likes to play poker, and I’m pretty good myself.”
“You are? I wouldn’t have guessed,” he said. “Gianna the card sharp.”
“It’s all about odds and numbers and logical choices.”
“Leave it to you to suck the joy outta poker.” He flashed a big smile, and she chuckled.
“What? No comeback? You must be exhausted.”
“I’m pretty tired.” Beat was more like it. It had been a mentally exhausting twenty-four hours.
“How about you go on home? Cade is taking Harper home, and they’ll take you back.”
“What about you?”
“I’m gonna stay a few more hours. I want to see Mom once they allow visitors. Lily will be here with me. And Regan. She’s been working on rescheduling our LA trip.”
Gianna had almost forgotten about that. They were supposed to make a few appearances in and around Hollywood this week. It was to beef up his good-guy image to the film studios.
She glanced across the room. Regan had her ear to a phone, speaking rapidly into the receiver, but her eyes were solely on Gage. Eyes didn’t lie, Mama had always told her. Words can deceive, but eyes are the entrance to the soul.
A question was on her lips about his relationship with Regan, but now was not the time. And she wasn’t really sure if she should be asking. Regan was an attractive single woman, if not several years older, and she certainly always had Gage’s back, but it was none of Gianna’s business. She was his temporary fake fiancée. Period.
It hadn’t felt like that last night.
“I think that’s a good idea. I’ll come check on Rose later.”
Gage kissed her cheek and nodded. “I’ll tell Cade. Oh, and thanks for being here. Means a lot.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
Regan slipped in between them, taking Gage’s arm, gently grabbing his attention. “Now that we know your mama is going to be okay, I’d like to speak to you more about LA.”
“Sure,” he said. “Just let me talk to Cade and then I’m all yours.”
Regan’s expression brightened as if she’d just won a contest. She turned her way. “Gianna, you should get some rest. This must be hard on you.”
“It’s very hard,” Gianna replied suggestively, focusing her full attention on Gage. “You have no idea.”
Regan’s triumphant expression faded. Her gaze shifted to Gage and then back to Gianna, weighing the innocent words and finally dismissing the innuendo.
Heavens, sometimes her quick wit needed reining in.
That was another thing Mama would warn her about.
But Gianna would rarely listen.
* * *
Noise from the living room woke Gianna from a restless sleep. Opening her eyes slowly, a glance at the clock on the nightstand confirmed she’d hadn’t slept much, maybe a few hours. It was just before noon. She surveyed her surroundings. Every day she woke up in the Tremaine guesthouse, she had to remind herself about her current life situation. Pretending to be Gage’s fiancée and living here was her new normal.
It was super weird going over the events of the past few days. From highs to lows. She was grateful that Rose’s injuries weren’t all that serious. Her prayers had been answered. Thank goodness. She got up and dressed in a pair of jeans and a cotton top, her actions quiet and precise. A glance in the mirror, and a few finger strokes to her hair, said it wasn’t going to get much better than this without more effort. She didn’t want to make the effort. Gage was back, and she wanted to hear an update on his mother.
She padded barefoot down the hall and into the living room. Gage sat on the sofa, his legs stretched out onto the coffee table, a cup of steaming brew in his hands. He lifted his lids to her, exhaustion written on his face.
“Hi,” she said. “Did you just get home?” How strange was it to say those words to him? It was his home—it just wasn’t hers. But Gage didn’t immediately answer. He was too busy surveying her choice of clothes. His lazy blue gaze leisurely moved up and down her body. He approved, said the glimmer in his eyes. Jeans and a little cotton top earned her high marks—it just didn’t make sense. Yet her insides warmed regardless.
“Just a few minutes ago. Did I wake you?”
“No,” she fibbed. “I didn’t sleep well.”
He nodded. “I made coffee.”
“Smells good. How’s your mom?”
“Have some coffee and I’ll tell you.” He moved to rise.
She put up her hand. “No, please sit. I’ll get it.”
Gianna walked into the kitchen, poured herself a mug and came over to sit on the sofa beside him. She put her feet up, too, so there were two sets of toes on the rectangular cocktail table. They sipped coffee quietly and seemed to share an odd sense of peace, being there together. “So?”
“I got to see her. She’s pretty banged up. Her face is bruised, and she’s going to be sore for quite some time. They set her arm, and well, she’s strong. She’s not going to let this get the best of her. She was more worried about all of us and how we’re doing.”
“I get that. She’s always been a mama bear. Did she explain how the accident happened?” All she knew was that Rose had lost control of her car and a telephone pole stopped her.
“She was driving home from town. It was dark on the road, and a dog suddenly appeared in her headlights. She swerved to keep from hitting it and ended up wrapped around a telephone pole.”
“That’s awful, Gage. And scary.”
“No, it was actually a blessing. If that pole wasn’t there to stop the car, she would’ve ended up in a ditch ten feet below. She was very lucky.”
“Wow. I guess she was.” Gianna sucked in a breath. Fate had a way of playing your hand for you. Luckily, this time Rose came out the winner. If one could say anything about getting in an accident was good luck.
“Gage, can I visit her?”
“Maybe later on tonight. She knows you were there, Gianna. She asked about you. But for now, the doctor wants her to rest. The pain meds knocked her out. She was sleeping when I left the hospital.”
Tears threatened to spill. Knowing Rose had asked about her grabbed her heart and tugged hard. Rose was a special woman. With shaky hands, she set her mug down and willed herself to be strong. She couldn’t fall apart in front of Gage again. He didn’t need that.
“Hey,” he said softly. He pulled her toward him, his powerful arms wrapping around her shoulders, her head naturally falling to his chest. She curled her feet onto the sofa, Gage her cushion. “Don’t cry, Gianna.”
“I’m usually not such a wuss.”
He chuckled, his chest rising and falling, taking her with him for the ride. “Gia, you never could be. You’re just weary. So am I. Close your eyes. Let’s try to rest.”
“Sounds good,” she murmured, her eyes already closed. This time, she wasn’t going to question how safe she felt in his arms. She was going to enjoy his comfort and hopefully fall into a blissful slumber, cocooned by his strength.
This wasn’t a good idea, yet her needy body said otherwise.
She’d question all the reasons why she shouldn’t be doing this, later.
And the list was long.
* * *
Afternoon light broke through the shutters in a dim glow, and Gianna woke gazing into a pair of drown-your-heart blue eyes. There wasn’t a guy out there with more appealing ones. Beneath her was a rock-solid man, a man who cradled her in his arms—a man whose message below the waist could hardly be ignored.
Her pulse pounded. Her body buzzed.
He brushed hair away from her face and smiled. As if she hadn’t just inva
ded his space, hadn’t just slept on top of him for who knows how long. “How long have we been like this?”
“Awhile,” he said, stroking her hair.
“You should’ve woken me,” she whispered.
“You needed sleep.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her hands on his chest, she lifted up. But that only brought her waist down harder on his groin. His arousal couldn’t be missed. He was turned on, but so was she. Heavens, she wouldn’t lie about it. It would be too hard to pretend otherwise. Only the zippers of their jeans kept them from glory. She should go before this got out of hand. But his look stopped her cold.
He cupped the back of her neck, the longing in his eyes unmistakable. He wanted to kiss her, and, in that moment, there was nothing she wanted more. She leaned in and he pressed his mouth to hers, his powerful kiss shutting off any hesitation she may have had. His touch was all-consuming. And oh, thank goodness for that.
“Remember what happened in the hotel room?” he whispered in her ear.
Her first genuine orgasm. How could she forget? She nodded, unable to form the words.
“We’re going to finish that, Gia.” He kissed her again, and little moans rose up from her throat. The pulsing of his body igniting hers. Red, fierce heat burned in her belly.
She shouldn’t do this. Gage wasn’t the man for her. He was too much like another man who’d let her down. Another man who’d hurt her. Charming, smug, overly confident. It was a secret she’d held close to her heart for so many years. A secret that burdened her heavily.
But Gage was too tempting, and back in that hotel room, he’d kindled a fire in her. He’d started something that needed finishing. Logic didn’t play into this. No, this was about raw, sensual yearnings. This was about sex and satisfaction.
She ran a hand down his strong jaw, caressed the scruff and kissed him there. “Okay,” she said softly.
A guttural noise sounded from his throat, a groan touching every edge of her body, and he kissed her back, his tongue staking its claim. There was no turning back. She was going to give herself to Gage, and she was going to take what he offered her in return.
Gage ran his hands through her hair, lifting the tresses, letting them fall loosely about her shoulders. He unbuttoned her blouse, spreading it wide-open. Appreciation gleamed in his eyes, and she’d never felt like more of a woman.
He removed her blouse and bra, and beneath her, his arousal hardened. Quickly, he removed his shirt and tossed it away. He was all muscle and tiny chest hairs and broad shoulders.
“Touch me,” he said, taking her wrists and bringing them to his chest. Her hands fanned out, her palms stroking over his torso. Moaning, he closed his eyes to the touch, and she continued to stroke him, to give him pleasure.
Gage cupped her breasts, kissing her there, palming her slowly, gently, until she was nearly out of her mind. He worked magic with his hands, his tongue, and then there was a frenzy to get naked. They needed to see each other fully, to touch and explore, to feel, soft to hard, and to taste everything.
Gage rolled her onto the side of the sofa and unzipped her jeans. He touched her aroused apex with his fingers and then slid the soft denim down her legs. She wiggled the rest of the way out of them, her body humming.
Gianna unzipped his jeans and then slid her hands inside to push them down, this turnaround being fair play. Her hand wound around his thick shaft and his hips arched. She stroked him, tasted him. “Damn,” he gritted out.
And before she was entirely through with all the tasting and exploring, he stopped her, kissed her and then reached into his tossed-aside jeans for a condom. He was an expert at tearing it open quickly and fixing it over his manhood. She didn’t want to know how he’d gotten so adept at it when Gianna had barely any experience at all.
Then she remembered that Gage wasn’t just a family friend, he was a superstar and had beautiful women swarming him all the time. Probably. Most likely. For sure.
Gage kissed her again, and all those thoughts leaped out of her mind. He cupped her butt with one hand while playing over her thin, sensitive folds with the other. She was moist there already, but Gage fought for more. Clearly, he wasn’t one to give up, and his stroking went on and on until she couldn’t think, could barely breathe. She cried out, her body breaking apart, frenzied, wild. She tossed her head back, and Gage finished his fight. He made her shatter. He made her complete. He gave her another release, this one even more powerful than the first.
* * *
Gage waited for Gianna to come down to earth. It was amazing to see her break loose like that, but feeling it was even better. He was so damn ready for her, but his patience would pay off. Gianna wouldn’t disappoint. She had no idea how beautiful she was, how her obvious lack of experience was such a turn-on to him.
She opened her eyes and smiled. “You okay, Brainiac?”
She nodded. “But we’re not through yet.”
He laughed. “Hardly.”
He lifted her and set her over his hips so she straddled him. His hands on her waist, he helped lower her onto his shaft. She touched him once, twice, and he bucked, the sensation so damn good. The next time she moved on him, she took him deeper, and then deeper again. He was fully inside her on the next thrust, the red-hot pleasure bordering on pain.
He focused solely on her. There’d be no closing his eyes. Not this time. Gianna’s olive-skinned body glistened, the sheen of sweat born of sex a heady thing. She moved easily on him now, meeting his thrusts and responding in kind. She tossed her head back, her hair flowing past her shoulders, the rosy tips of her breasts pointing skyward.
Gage couldn’t hold back much longer. Sex with her was the best he’d ever had. She’d turned him on more than any woman he’d ever known. Ironically, he’d gotten a rep for being a bad boy, but he’d never tell that there’d only been six women in his entire life. Gianna being number seven. Lucky number seven.
She moved on him gracefully, meeting him thrust for thrust in a rhythm that was uniquely hers. He let her set the pace and loved how her instincts took over. She wasn’t shy. She gave him what he craved, moving her hips, gyrating to produce the maximum pleasure. His body was on edge. He needed more, and he guided her hips down on him faster, harder. Her eyes closed, she found a faster pace. She gave herself to him without question and moved with his every thrust, his every buck. Then her eyes opened again, wide with surprise and filled with lust. Her mouth dropped open and she whispered, “Gage.”
“Let go,” he said, completely awed.
Her eyes squeezed shut then, and she trembled fiercely, the force of her release beautiful to watch.
Gage brought her down, into his arms, and laid her on the sofa. Coming up and over her, he rained kisses onto her sweet face and finally finished what they’d started in Nashville, taking them both home.
Eight
Gage held Gianna’s hand as they entered Juliet Memorial together. They walked down the hall and entered the elevator. He kept her close by his side. Was it for the sake of appearances or because he wanted to keep them connected? Even wondering why, she couldn’t break away, couldn’t puzzle out what she was feeling inside. How could she look at Rose with a straight face without revealing what had happened between them? How does one behave after having earth-shattering sex with a man? She didn’t know, because after getting dressed, they’d rushed out of the guesthouse, Gage on the phone with Regan for most of the time.
They reached Rose’s hospital room door. “Do you want to go in first?” he asked. “Or do you want to go in together?”
“First,” she said, guilt making her cringe inside. She didn’t want to deny Gage this time with his mother, but it would be easier to face Rose alone. Plus, now that she was feeling things for Gage, things she didn’t want to name, there was something she needed clarification from Rose about—something from her past. Now that her mom was gone, Rose was her
only hope in putting some skeletons to rest.
Gage didn’t react other than giving her a nod. “Have a good visit,” he said and placed a quick kiss to her forehead.
There was a buzz surrounding them, a heat, a current that made her dizzy, made her question everything in her life. What was she doing with this man? “Gage?”
“It’s gonna be okay,” he said. “Trust me.”
But did she? Did she trust Gage Tremaine? Too many questions popped into her mind, too many memories of Gage not being trustworthy. Of him teasing her and picking on her and trying to make her feel inferior. But that was a lifetime ago. That was when they were kids, teens. That wasn’t now.
She turned and entered the room. Sterile surroundings, the smell of alcohol and disinfectant, greeted her. Flowers brightened the room, arrangements of sunflowers and daisies and roses—lots of roses.
The woman she’d come here to see gave her a sweet smile. “Gianna.”
She strode over to the bed and carefully sat down on the very edge. “How are you, Rose?”
Gianna had never seen Rose looking so frail and wounded. Like a little bird. Tucked into covers, hiding most of her injuries, she sat up straighter and winced. Gianna felt her pain down to her toes. “As you can see, sweet girl, I’m mending. But slowly.”
“I’m so sorry you were hurt. You really gave us all a scare.”
“And I’m sorry, too, for you. Losing Tonette and now me being in the hospital.”
“I’m not the one with a broken arm and bruised ribs. No need to be sorry. It couldn’t be helped. If anything, you saved a dog’s life.”
“Yes, and I’d probably do it again.”
“Well,” Gianna said. “I brought you chocolates.” She cleared her throat. “Actually, they’re from Gage, too. We stopped in town and got you your favorites.” She pulled a lavender box with gold lettering out of her purse and set it on the table tray.
“Thank you. That’s sweet.”
She put out her hand, and Gianna covered it with her own. “How are you and my son holding up?”
The Fake Engagement Favor Page 11