by Morgan James
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Gavin said as he strode toward the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He waved it in my direction, and I nodded. I wasn’t so stubborn that I would refuse a drink, especially since I hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink since lunch.
As if on cue, my stomach rumbled, and Phil’s head whipped toward me. “You must be starving. There are leftovers in the fridge. Gavin, heat something up for Dr. Winfield.”
“You can call me Kate,” I offered with a smile. “And I can get my own food, it’s fine—really.”
“No, no.” Phil waved me off, then gestured toward the table. “Come sit. Tell me everything while Gavin gets the food ready.”
I shot a look at the man in question, who rolled his eyes as he took a pan from the drawer of the fridge. Heat raced through me as he briefly met my gaze, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He was obviously used to his father’s overbearing nature. I made a mental note to ask Phil later how he managed Gavin.
Over reheated lasagna, Gavin and I told Phil of the incident downtown, then gradually segued into other local news, including the remains they’d found a couple weeks ago.
Phil gave a little shake of his head. “What’s this world coming to?”
I nodded in commiseration. People sucked.
“Well, I’m off to bed.” Phil pushed back his chair and stood. “Glad you’re okay, Doctor.”
“Thanks. Sleep well.”
I felt Gavin’s eyes on me as his dad disappeared down the hall, and I finally worked up the courage to face him. “Well. I guess I should get to bed, too.”
Those dark chocolate eyes stared intently into mine, studying me for several long seconds before he spoke. “How are you feeling?”
I notched up my chin. “I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can,” he soothed softly.
My gaze narrowed on him. I hated being soothed, pacified like a toddler. “I don’t want your pity, Price.”
He blinked once, but his expression never changed. “Have I pitied you at all?”
“No,” I snapped. “You just bulldozed your way into my house, then bullied me into doing exactly what you wanted.”
One dark eyebrow lifted. “You mean, made sure you’re safe? How awful of me.”
His words were borderline condescending, and it made me see red. “Don’t act like a fucking martyr.”
“Don’t be petulant.”
“Petulant?” I stabbed a forefinger in his chest. “I am a grown fucking adult, and I can take care of myself.”
“If you would stop being stubborn for two seconds—”
“God, you’re so infuriating!” I started to whirl away from him, but he caught my waist and twisted me back to face him.
“Damn it, red. No—” He slapped a palm over my mouth when I started to speak. “Shut those pretty lips of yours and listen for once. I know your ex was a piece of shit. I know you have no reason to trust men, including me, but believe this—I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. And if that means pissing you off, then so be it. I don’t give a damn. I’d rather you be angry than dead. Understand?”
I knew he would say anything to get me to acquiesce, but his words were so matter-of-fact that I couldn’t help the little thump my heart gave in response. Not that I would ever say as much to Gavin, but I actually felt much better staying here, especially now that I knew Phil was here. I would definitely be safer—in both senses. Gavin would protect me from any potential threats, and Phil would save me from Gavin. Or maybe he would be saving me from myself, because part of me still wanted to throw myself into Gavin’s arms the way I had at the hospital and soak up every bit of strength and comfort those hard muscles had to offer.
The man was potent, and I had to constantly remind myself to stay on guard around him. He ripped away my defenses much too easily, stared into my eyes and read what I felt in my soul. Part of me wanted so badly to give in, but I wasn’t sure I could trust him yet—or myself.
He lowered his hand, and I swallowed hard, then nodded as I pulled from his grasp. “I... I should go clean up.”
“No showers, remember?”
“Thanks, Dr. Price,” I shot back, but my words lacked heat. “Where’s my room?”
“I’ll show you.” Gavin strode to the door where he’d dropped my bag on the way in, then hoisted it over his shoulder and headed toward the stairs. My shoulder throbbed dully as I followed him, each step jarring the aching muscle. I almost cried in relief when he flipped on a light in the second room we came to. “This one has its own bathroom, so you’ll have plenty of privacy.”
I peered around the doorway, my eyes sliding over the contents of the room. “It’s not yours, is it?”
God, I couldn’t handle sleeping in his room, surrounded by his tantalizing scent.
He shook his head and hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Nope. I’m at the end of the hall.”
That wasn’t much better. There were barely twenty feet separating us. As if reading my thoughts, Gavin quirked a grin. “Want to see my room, red?”
“Ha.” The derisive laugh came out much shakier than I’d intended. “No way.”
“Your loss.”
He pushed past me and set my bag on the bed, then turned to me. “Make yourself at home. Use whatever you need, and if you can’t find something, don’t hesitate to ask.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
He dipped his chin. “Of course.”
He started out of the room, but I lifted my good hand and stopped him as he drew even with me. “Seriously. Thank you. I really do appreciate it.”
He stared at me for a long moment. “I just want you safe.”
“I know,” I whispered, unable to tear my gaze away.
One huge hand came up to cup my face, and his thumb swept over my cheek. His gaze flitted over my face before returning to my eyes. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you take a bath, then get some rest?”
I nodded, and he dropped his hand away. “Night, Kate.”
“Night.”
I watched as he entered his room, closing the door behind him, and I let out a little sigh. I was just so... confused. He could be so high-handed sometimes, and other times he was so incredibly sweet. God knew I was attracted to him, and he wasn’t shy about voicing his intentions for me. Deep down, I still hurt. I wasn’t sure I was ready to put myself back out there, even casually. My heart felt too fragile; Steve’s betrayal had been bad enough, but I’d never felt about Steve the way I did about Gavin. There was just something between us—chemistry, hormones, something—that made my body come alive. If I opened myself up to Gavin and he broke my heart, I wasn’t sure I would ever recover.
I filled the large tub with hot water, then stepped inside, careful to keep my bandage from getting wet. The warm water lapped over my skin as I tipped my head back, and I closed my eyes, barely holding in a little hum of pleasure. The slight pressure of a hand on my shoulder jerked me back to reality, and I realized I had dozed off.
Gavin’s soft brown eyes met mine as he slid to his knees beside the tub. “You okay?”
“What are you doing in here?” I automatically moved to cover my exposed breasts with my good arm and sank a little deeper, trying not to get the bandage wet.
“Checking on you.” His eyes held concern as they studied me. “I didn’t hear any movement, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Since I’d fallen asleep, he was probably checking to make sure I hadn’t drowned. His stare was hot and intense, and I had to clear my throat before speaking. “Yeah. I’m fine, thanks.”
He tipped his head at me. “Do you want help washing your hair?”
I grimaced a little bit. I couldn’t do it by myself, and I was sure that it was caked with dirt from having rolled around on the ground outside. “Would you mind?”
“Of course not. Hold on one sec.” He braced his hands on the edge of the tub, then pushed to his feet. With a purposeful stride, he l
eft the bathroom and returned less than a minute later, a plastic cup in hand.
“Here, sit up a little bit.” He slipped one hand between my back and the wall of the tub and eased me forward. I tilted my face to the sky, and he dipped the cup into the water, then poured it over my head, soaking the long strands. He picked up my shampoo and squirted it onto my hair. With long, lean fingers, he massaged my scalp, rinsing out the debris and relieving some of the tension I’d been carrying all evening.
When he was done, he washed my back, then gently settled me so I was reclined against the wall of the tub. “Just relax.”
His hands went to my shoulders, and he started off gentle, his touch becoming firmer and more sure as he attacked the knots that had built up in the muscle. I turned to jelly under his ministrations as he stroked along my upper back and shoulders, the base of my neck. Cautious of my injury, he slid his hands over my good shoulder, kneading the flesh. The other hand moved forward, fingers teasing along my collarbone. He dipped lower, and I sucked in a breath as his thumb brushed my nipple. I shifted in the water, clenching my legs tight against the sensation that shot straight to my core.
I knew I should stop him, but it felt so good—too good. His hand curved around, curling under my breast to cup it as he continued to tease the tight peak. I bit my lip and allowed my head to fall to the side as he kissed my ear. The dark stubble of his five o’clock shadow was rough against my skin, and I shivered as he trailed his kisses lower, nuzzling against my neck.
His other hand left my shoulder and trailed downward, one long finger unerringly finding my center and dipping inside. The water sloshed precariously as my hips jerked in response. Oh, God. I had to stop this before we ended up in bed again. I slammed my legs together, trapping his hand as I tilted my head to look up at him. “Watch it, buddy.”
Gavin offered me an unrepentant grin. “Just doing my duty.”
I forced an unbelieving little sound from my throat. “I’d say that’s taking it a little far.”
One broad shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I take pride in a job well done.”
Despite his hand being trapped between my thighs, he continued to torture the little bundle of nerves at my entrance. His thumb lightly circled my nipple, and the little bolt of pleasure that zinged through me stole my breath. It took me a moment to find my words. “Pride or pleasure?”
His grin grew. “Yes.”
Reaching between my legs, I extracted his questing fingers and leveled him with a stare. “I did go to medical school,” I reminded him, “so I know all the most vulnerable places on the human body.”
Instead of pulling back at my threat, he let out a little laugh and twined his fingers through mine. “Don’t remind me. I’ve never enjoyed a woman’s touch more than yours.”
The compliment shouldn’t have pleased me so much, but it did, damn it. I needed to turn this train around before it completely derailed. “Now you’re just blowing smoke.”
He lifted a brow. “You were there too, so I know you know that’s not true.”
I felt my cheeks heat as memories of that night rushed back. He was right; I’d thoroughly enjoyed touching him, and I reveled in his hands traveling all over my body, leaving no inch unexplored. I frantically beat the memories back and scrambled to my feet, keeping my good arm over my chest while my other hand covered my lady parts. “Could you hand me a towel please?”
He stared up at me for a long moment before slowly rising to his feet and pulling a clean towel from the linen cabinet. Instead of passing it to me, he carefully ran the fabric over my shoulders and back, then down each arm and across my stomach. He secured it around me, then lifted me from the tub and gently set me on my feet. But he didn’t let me go. Instead, he settled his hands low on my hips and dipped his head so his eyes were even with mine. “Fair warning, sweetheart: as soon as you’re feeling better, I’m coming for you... and I will catch you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kate
A groan left my mouth even before I cracked my eyes open. Holy shit. I felt like I’d been hit by a freight train. There wasn’t a single inch of me that didn’t ache. For several long minutes, I lay there, just staring at the ceiling and willing my muscles to relax. Finally, I rolled my head toward the nightstand, and I swiped out a hand, grasping the bottle of ibuprofen that Gavin had left there last night.
Awkwardly, I struggled to sit up, using my one good arm, grateful that he’d left the cap loosened for me. I popped two tablets into my mouth and swallowed them down with water. The hot bath last night had helped to ease some of my pain, but I had a feeling the next couple days were going to be brutal. I glanced at the nightstand, at the phone charging on the surface. I should probably call my parents and tell them what happened.
Even though it was only after eight o’clock, I dialed my parents’ home phone number, the same one we’d had since I was a child. After only a couple rings, my mother answered, her voice chipper.
“Katie, honey, how are you?”
“Fine, Mom. How are you?”
“Oh, the usual,” she said.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. It’d been the same for the last thirty years. While my father went to work in his accounting firm, Mom stayed home and took care of the house. She came from the South, born of a generation who thought it was a woman’s job to look after the house and family. My sister was the same way. She’d been married to her high school sweetheart for nearly ten years, and they had the requisite house in the suburbs, two kids, and a dog. I was damn proud of what I’d accomplished, but I’d be lying if part of me said I wasn’t at least a little envious of her.
My parents weren’t happy about my divorce, but then they never really liked Steve to begin with. Mom didn’t ask about it, and I didn’t bother to offer any information. It was over, in the past, and that was all that mattered.
“I have something to tell you,” I began slowly. “I wanted you to hear it from me before you found out from someone else.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
I heard the wary curiosity in her tone. “There was a shooting downtown near one of the coffee shops yesterday, and I was there.”
“That’s terrible!” She clucked a sympathetic sound. “What’s this world coming to?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s pretty bad. Anyway, I was standing right outside, and I was kind of... hit.”
“Hit?” my mother asked. “By what?”
“Um... the bullet.”
On the other end of the line, my mother sucked in a breath, and I could practically see her eyes widen in shock. “Oh my God! Are you okay?”
“Well...” I laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly be calling if I wasn’t.”
“You know what I mean,” my mother scolded. “Do you want us to come down?”
I picked at a thread on the blanket. “No, that’s okay. I appreciate the offer though.”
“Are you sure? Daddy can take some time off, and—”
“It’s fine.” I cut her off. “Really. I’m staying with a friend, so I’m perfectly safe.”
“If you say so...” My mother trailed off.
“I am. I just wanted to let you know.”
“All right,” my mother acquiesced, sounding not at all happy about it.
“So tell me what else is going on.” I changed the subject and listened as she prattled on about my nephew’s football team for a few minutes.
“Anyway, they’re already starting practices to get ready for the fall.”
“Isn’t it a little early?” Don’t get me wrong. I was born and raised in Texas, and I loved football as much as the next girl, but seriously. The kid was only six.
“You know how it is,” my mother said.
Unfortunately, I did.
A few minutes later, after getting all caught up on the drama, I hung up with my mom, then made my way downstairs to the kitchen. I smiled at Phil where he sat at the table, flipping through the morning paper. Gavin had told me to make
myself at home, so I headed for the fridge and pulled out a jug of orange juice.
“Glasses are to the right of the stove. Need some help?”
“No, thanks. I think I’ve got it.” I shot Phil a smile, and he turned his attention back to his paper. With one hand, I managed to unscrew the cap and awkwardly sloshed it into the glass.
“Something happen between you and Gavin?”
Oh, God. Had he noticed the tension between us last night? I cleared my throat. “No. Why do you ask?”
He speared me with a look. “I was born at night, but not last night.”
I blushed fiercely and turned my attention to the jug of juice, taking an extra-long time to screw the cap on using only one hand. Not knowing what Gavin had said to his father, I couldn’t exactly lie to him. “We dated once.”
“Ah.”
He went back to his paper, and my brows drew together. That was it? I felt the overwhelming urge to explain what had happened between his son and me. “He’s a really great guy. I just... wasn’t in a good place at the time.”
The paper rustled, and Phil’s voice floated over the top. “You’re too good for him.”
I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut. It was obvious that there was some kind of discord between father and son, but... “Why would you say that?”
Phil snorted. “He’s too stubborn, too high-handed.”
Well, I couldn’t argue with that. “It’s probably what makes him so good at his job,” I pointed out.
“More to life than work,” he remarked.
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just nodded. I couldn’t help but wonder what my family would think about Gavin. Knowing them, they’d probably think he was a total catch. And, truly... he was. He was handsome and successful, the epitome of the perfect man. He was just as incredible as he was infuriating, and part of me had to admit... it was kind of endearing. Okay, maybe a lot endearing.
I loved that he was straightforward and didn’t beat around the bush. He knew what he wanted and went after it with single-minded focus. Despite my best efforts to push him away, he’d always made sure that I was taken care of. From my divorce with Steve to the shooting yesterday, he put me first and tried to do what he thought was best. He could be overbearing and controlling, but also so damn sweet sometimes that I wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet.