Be My Midnight Kiss

by Jean Brashear

  But to his amazement, she subsided and simply danced, their bodies surprisingly attuned to each other. Once in a while, she’d look at him, baffled.

  But she didn’t move away.

  They danced that dance and two more before the band took a break, exchanging not one word the entire time.

  As their bodies separated, Gavin could see her gearing up again to seduce him, to make him simply one of the many, so he seized the initiative to keep her off balance. “Evenin’, Miz Stephanie. I’ll see you soon.” He kissed her knuckles when he wanted to kiss her beautiful mouth. “Need a ride home first?”

  Her lips parted, her eyes first confused, then anger reappeared. “Of course not. Anyway, the night’s barely begun.” She studied his reaction with a sideways glance. “And my name is Steph.”

  “It doesn’t suit you. I’ve decided I like Stephanie better.”

  Her brows snapped together. “Excuse me?”

  I do believe I have your number, Ms. Hargrove. “Tomorrow’s a work day,” he said blithely. “You’ll need your sleep.”

  “Bed, perhaps,” she all but purred. “I don’t need much sleep.”

  He clamped down as every instinct he possessed prodded him to drag her out of here, to seize what she so blatantly offered.

  But that would make him forgettable like all the others. Why that mattered, he wasn’t sure. He only knew he wasn’t done with her yet.

  Oh, no, sweetheart. We’ll play this my way. “Sweet dreams to you, then.” He turned to go.

  “Good night and good riddance.” Vexation filled her tone.

  Gavin didn’t let himself turn back.

  But he left with a smile on his face.

  Chapter Four

  She wanted to sit on her windowsill, damn it. Steph stared in frustration at the cold drizzle that had set in before she arrived home from work the next night. She needed to think, needed more space to prowl. The walls of her loft were closing in. The weather was nasty, but she had to get out of here, away from the silence. Music didn’t get it; TV was worse. She’d picked up two different books and tossed both of them in disgust.

  Making up her mind quickly, she strode toward her coat rack. A sharp crack against her window drew her up short.

  What the—?

  There it was again. Pea gravel. Sharp little clicks against her window.

  Why didn’t whoever it was just use the buzzer?

  When the third shower of stones clinked, Steph strode across the floor in a huff, jerking the window open.

  She leaned out. “Why don’t you use the stupid buzz—?” The words dried up in her throat at the sight of the man on the sidewalk.

  Gavin O’Neill.

  Under the hood of his coat, his face creased in a smile. “If you won’t answer the phone when I call, why should I expect you to answer the buzzer?”

  He’d walked out on her the night before, when she wasn’t through with him. And yes, thanks to Caller ID, she’d ignored a phone call earlier. “So you threw rocks at my window?”

  “Ah, but gently, darlin’, with exactly the right touch. Same as how I treat a woman, you see.”

  “You probably think that.” She shrugged indifferently. “Men often overrate their performance.” Now he’d be insulted and go away.

  But of course he didn’t do that. Instead, he threw back his head and laughed, that deep, rolling sound that reached right past every barrier she could put up.

  “Does that work with your usual victim? If so, you definitely haven’t met the right man yet.”

  “Are you asking to be one of them? I’ll warn you I don’t keep anyone around long.”

  His eyes widened in mock horror. “They allow you to send them away?”

  “I prefer to sleep alone.”

  “Well, then, darlin’ Stephanie, you clearly haven’t slept with the right man.”

  “You think you’re him?” Her tone dripped condescension.

  “Don’t be getting ahead of yourself. I haven’t even decided if I like you yet.” His smile was unrepentant.

  She had to grin back. His unfailing good humor made it difficult to stay mad at him. “You are unbelievably annoying, Gavin O’Neill. I can’t decide if you’re dumb as a post or the most arrogant man I’ve ever met.”

  “While you’re pondering, I’ll be right up. Hit the lock.”

  “Wait—I didn’t say you—”

  Too late. He’d already disappeared from sight.

  Steph slammed down the sticky window, shivering from the cold air that had filled the room. She should just leave him out there in the rain. It was so bone-deep cold that he’d soon leave.

  But until he did, she was trapped in here, the same cage she’d been clawing to escape.

  Damn the man. Abruptly Steph laughed out loud. What the hell—she’d been wanting entertainment, but she’d never in a million years imagined it being Gavin. She crossed the floor and punched the button, wondering just when she’d lost control of the situation.

  Probably about five seconds after they’d met.

  But she’d get it back, and then she’d boot him out, just like the others.

  He didn’t knock but instead turned the knob and walked right in, standing in the doorway dripping. “That’s my girl. I knew you wouldn’t leave a man to freeze.”

  Steph nodded toward the coat rack on the wall. “Hang up your coat right there.”

  He did so, even going so far as to pull off his boots, but his eyes were busy taking in the space around him. She had a sense of all her secrets being bared.

  Gavin took his sweet time, not moving from where he stood, barely less imposing in his socks. He glanced up, and his face wreathed in smiles. “Pressed tin ceiling, bless my soul.” Glancing back at her, he shook his head. “An interesting jumble. Secrets here to be mined, darlin’ Stephanie. A man could spend some time doing it.”

  “Don’t get any ideas. I only took pity on a fool who’d stand out in the rain.”

  “That you did, sweetheart, and there’ll be stars in your crown for it.” He rubbed his hands together. “You wouldn’t happen to have a beer, would you?”

  Steph snorted. “Do I look like a beer girl?”

  Blue eyes twinkled. “Maybe you haven’t had a beer with the right man. You may not yet be up to the challenge of a man like me, but I just might be willing to take on the task of grooming you for it.”

  “You wish.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve probably got some tequila and limes. We could try body shots.”

  “I might be persuaded to try.”

  She had to chuckle. “You’re telling me you’ve never done body shots before?” She walked toward the kitchen area, all too aware of his large frame right behind her. As a tall woman, she wasn’t used to feeling dainty, but that’s exactly how he made her feel.

  “I’ve never done them with you, sugar.”

  She felt the zing in her blood but worked hard to ignore it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Here we go. You can have…” But he’d left her, his concentration already switched to something else.

  Her kitchen faucet? She’d never had a man up to her place who’d paid more attention to her apartment than her body. Right now, he was turning handles, then using those capable hands to unscrew something on the tip of the faucet.

  He shook the metal piece and slapped it against his palm until a tiny screen fell into his hand. Gavin held it up to the light, frowning. “This screen needs replacing. And how long has this faucet been dripping?”

  “I just moved in. Anyway, what business is it of yours?”

  He glanced around. “I suppose it’s too much to expect that you’d have a toolbox?”

  “Of course I do. No twenty-first century woman is without one,” she huffed.

  “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

  Steph grabbed for the part. “Give me that. I can take care of my own repairs, thank you very much.”

  Placing the metal whatever-it-was and screen in her hand, he executed a sweeping invitation. “Plea
se. I love to watch a woman work.”

  “I’ll do it later.” She slapped the parts on the counter and turned away.

  “Oh, but there’s no time like the present, didn’t anyone teach you that?” Gavin relaxed against the counter, arms crossed, a big smile on his face. “Humor me. I’m in no hurry.”

  “I’m not in the mood.” Steph walked past him, drinks forgotten.

  His arm shot out and wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. “Damn, but I do enjoy the way you do that.”

  She leaned back, all too aware of how well they fit together. “Do what?”

  His other hand slid up her back, tunneling into her hair, tilting her head slightly. “Lie with such arrogance.” His head lowered to hers, and he growled softly.

  Then it was too late. His mouth covered hers, his big body surrounding her. She could smell wood shavings on him, pine and cedar and soap…and something else she could only describe as all man.

  Faster than she would ever have believed, his kiss swept her mind clean of any thought but him. For one perilous, treacherous moment, she remembered how it felt to dance with him, to have her body tight against his muscled one. A part of her wanted nothing more than to snuggle up in those strong arms, to sink into the comfort of him.

  No. Oh, no. But before she could end the kiss, he did, then set her back on her feet. She stifled a moan.

  Regret shone in those blue eyes, and he trailed one finger down her cheek. “There won’t be any more of that until we get something straight between us.”

  Steph bristled and stepped away, fixing him with a baleful stare. “And just what might that be?”

  “When you’re ready to tell all those boys you play with that you’re finished with them.”

  “And why on earth would I do that?”

  “Because you’re gonna be spending your time with me now, Stephanie darlin’. And I don’t share.”

  She laughed, though it wasn’t as steady as she’d have liked. “You can’t be serious.”

  He tapped his chest. “Don’t be listening to your head now. It’s the heart that’s speaking to you.”

  “You’re insane. I told you you’re not my type. Anyway, I’m still mad at you for dressing me down at Thanksgiving.”

  He shrugged. “You know I was right. A family like that needs supporting, not being sneered at.”

  “I wasn’t sneering. I think they’re great.”

  “But?”

  She turned away. “They’re an anomaly. Marriage isn’t like that.”

  “Your parents?” His gaze warmed with sympathy.

  “My parents are none of your business.”

  “What if I’m making you my business?”

  “Don’t bother. I’m not interested.”

  “Liar.” He approached her again.

  She backed away. “We couldn’t be more different. I’m a shark business exec. I’m very good at what I do. You’re a—”

  “Careful now. Wouldn’t want to let your high-and-mighty streak show too much. I’m a simple carpenter and not ashamed of it.”

  “I didn’t say you should be. I’m not a snob.”

  Pity darkened his eyes. “Oh, but I think you are. Worse, I scare you. I see who you are, beyond the seductress, beyond the woman who pretends to be a man-eater.”

  Then, to her great surprise, he reversed course and headed for the door, pulling on his boots and sliding his arms into his coat. “I’m not afraid of you, Stephanie. You won’t discard me like the others. I’ll go when I’m ready and not a minute before.”

  “First I’d have to get involved, and that’s not gonna happen.”

  “It will. Get ready for it.”

  “It won’t.” But she wrapped her arms around her waist against a sudden shiver.

  “I don’t say it will be easy—God knows you’re anything but that. I’ve surely lost my mind getting involved with you, but too late now.” He grasped the door handle, then turned back, giving her a long, soulful look she couldn’t interpret. “I’m not what you think you want, sweetheart, but I’m exactly what you need.”

  Then he smiled and gave a tiny salute. “It’s a good thing I’m a patient man, Stephanie darlin’. I have a feeling I’m going to need every speck of it I can muster.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “Just screw the end back on like it was. It will do overnight. I’ll be back with the tools and parts tomorrow.”

  Without another word, he was out the door.

  Steph raced after him, grasping the handle with a thought to call him back, to demonstrate her disdain and leave him in no doubt of who had the upper hand.

  Instead she let go and leaned back heavily against the wood. She swore, but her heart wasn’t really in it. Drawing herself up resolutely, she headed to the kitchen to put her faucet back together and resume the life she liked just fine.

  You have a high opinion of yourself, Gavin O’Neill.

  Insane. The man was certifiable.

  And definitely not her type.

  But even though her sample was brief, she knew one sure thing about him.

  The man could kiss. Suddenly Steph laughed out loud.

  Certifiable, for sure. Not her type, definitely.

  But able to make her toes curl?

  Damn the man, yes.

  Not that she’d ever tell him.

  “You. Off the equipment. Now.”

  Laken jolted at the voice barking orders over the volume of her iPod. Jeanette Roundtree stood there in all her bossy glory.

  Laken pulled out one earbud but kept the treadmill in Enigma’s fitness center going. “What?”

  “Chop-chop. I don’t have all day. Off the treadmill.”

  “Excuse me?”

  But Jeanette refused to continue until Laken did as she’d asked—ordered, really. Though she was no longer working at Ruby’s except when there was special need, Jeanette was too accustomed to telling the waitresses what to do. Customers, too, come to think of it.

  They’d become sort-of friends, though they butted heads as often as not. “You’re not the boss of me.” She strolled over slowly, then stopped, hands on hips.

  Jeanette ignored her defiance. “Drop the t-shirt. You’re barely showing but you’ve sure got pregnancy boobs, don’t you?” Jeanette grinned and patted her own. “Are they not the best? Walker can’t get enough of them.”

  Laken stuck fingers in her ears. “La-la-la-la I can’t hear you.”

  “You’re just jealous because you’re not really showing yet, but check this out.” The tall blonde pulled her dress tight around her middle. “I am—isn’t it great?”

  Her bump barely showed. “You’re a sick woman, Jeanette.”

  The other woman beamed. “Nope. Just happy. So happy. I never dreamed…” Then actual tears from the least sentimental person Laken knew filled her eyes, and Laken didn’t have the heart to be snippy.

  “I know you are, and I’m really glad for you. Walker’s pretty amazing. You hit the jackpot with that one.”

  “I really did.” Jeanette sniffed and wiped her eyes. “But your man ain’t chopped liver, girlfriend. And he’s clearly crazy about you.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know why.”

  Jeanette chuckled. “Me either. You’re such a pain the ass. So I just have one question for you.”

  Warily Laken nodded. “And that would be—”

  “What the devil is wrong with you? You think men like Michael just grow on trees?”

  “Around here they seem to.” She didn’t know why she was arguing.

  “Okay, here’s the deal: I don’t have all day to stand around jawing with you when I only have three weeks to get your gown done.”

  “My…gown?” Then her earlier words hit. “Three…weeks?” she squeaked. “What’s happening in—”

  “You don’t want to find yourself at the altar in a gown you had no say over, the way Scarlett and Ruby did? I did an awesome job on both, and I can do it again, but here’s your chance: get on board before the train runs over
you.”

  “I’m not getting married at—Christmas is only—” she spluttered. “Nobody’s giving me a surprise wedding.”

  “They’re not yet because I gave you fair warning.” Jeanette pulled the tape measure from around her neck. “Now drop the t-shirt and get over here. You can still wear something form-fitting if you want to—heaven knows you exercise enough that everything is firm, and with the baby boobs—”

  Laken went cold all the way through. “Does Michael know about this?” Surely he wouldn’t spring something like this on her.

  “No. Because there isn’t a wedding planned yet, but Ruby has that look in her eyes, and Maddie and Scarlett have been on the phone a lot lately, talking where nobody can hear them. Brenda asked me if I thought you’d prefer roses or something more unique—you know she can make you an amazing bouquet. And Spike has sketched up some designs for a cake that are completely awesome, but—are you listening to me, girlfriend? You can have a say if you’ll stop sticking your head in the sand. Everyone who cares about you will be here for the community Christmas, so you wouldn’t be asking people to pull together a second special occasion. You and Michael can do this together and do it your way if you’ll just get that stubborn head out of your—”

  Laken tuned out, reeling. Three weeks? How could she possibly get married in three weeks? “It’s too soon. There’s not time to—”

  “Laken.” Jeanette was tapping her toe. “How old do you want that child to be when you finally make him legal? There is an end date on the process, you know that, right? So when were you going to get around to this? How much longer do you need to keep that good man waiting?”

  “But—” Laken had to sit down. “I just—” She lifted terrified eyes to Jeanette. “What if we can’t make it work?”

  “You’re already living together. You have been for close to two years now. What exactly do you think you still have to figure out?”

  “I…don’t know, but—”

  “You love him, because you’re not stupid. And he’s crazy about you. Have you discovered some horrible habit he has that you can’t tolerate? Does he leave the seat up or snore too loud or pick his nose or—”