Be My Midnight Kiss

by Jean Brashear

  I love you, he’d said.

  I’m so afraid I might love you, too, Gavin.

  But her heart wept, knowing she couldn’t say it.

  Because she could never love him as he deserved.

  Gavin awoke with Stephanie’s head pillowed on his shoulder. A slow, satisfied smile emerged as she whimpered at his movement, then curled more tightly against him.

  Man, she was sweet. Would anyone who knew her recognize the woman who’d given herself up to him again and again in the night?

  I have you now, my love. I know you as no one else does. Something very primal prowled inside him. And they never will. You’re done with playing around, sweetheart, whether or not you recognize it.

  He’d been voracious—they both had, their love play at turns tender and bawdy, each one surrendering, each one conquering. Greedy or gentle, fierce or flirty, Stephanie Hargrove was not what he’d thought he’d been waiting for all his life.

  But she was what he wanted, heart and soul. He would, by God, have her. Though, he told himself with a wry smile, she wouldn’t make it easy on him, of that he was certain.

  She was his miracle, but that was not to say he expected prickly Stephanie Hargrove to magically turn soft overnight.

  He chuckled quietly. Or ever, he hoped. Her spirit was half the appeal of her. She only needed showing that love was real. That he could be trusted with that frightened heart of hers.

  Full of cheer and optimism, Gavin rose from her bed, energy coursing through him. He looked around him for clothing, then realized all he had was a Santa suit. Didn’t plan that out too well, did you? He settled for his boxers, knowing the red pants would have to be cinched up in gathers where the padding no longer took up space, then walked into her kitchen area. Man, he was starving. Nothing like a good full night of loving to stimulate the appetite, was there?

  A glance in her refrigerator had him sighing in dismay.

  Right. This was Stephanie, after all. Well, surely she’d be hungry, too. He began a pot of coffee, then strode toward her room while it was brewing. For a moment, he simply stood beside the bed, enjoying the sight of her, all the hard edges smoothed off.

  Prickly, yes. Quite likely always would be.

  But enough gentling, and his cactus would bloom with the force of his loving.

  For now, he was starving, and if he yielded to the temptation she presented, they’d be in that bed for hours yet, only to be found some time later, gaunt victims of starvation.

  A shower, then. Keep your hands off her, dude. Let the woman sleep.

  Gavin sighed and headed for the bathroom.

  Sunlight filtered into the loft, a soft whistling barely audible over the sound of the shower. Steph frowned, then smiled and burrowed deeper under the covers as she remembered the night before. She missed the warmth of him, even as she groaned. Yes, Gavin was a morning person, apparently cheerful from the moment he awoke. She always had been, always would be, a creature of the night.

  Night. Oh, such a night. Steph stretched in delight, recalling the hours just passed, the wonder of making love with Gavin.

  I love you, he’d said. And not just once.

  She sat up straight. No, it was too soon. Too… Oh, Gavin. You think you love me, but…

  In the mirror across from her bed, the ruby at her throat winked in the sunlight. For a second, Steph let herself feel how much she wanted all of this to be real.

  Even if she knew her limitations in a way she wished Gavin would never have to.

  Oh, give it a rest. It’s Christmas. The day she normally only endured suddenly glowed with fresh promise. They could take one day and indulge in the fantasy, couldn’t they? Wasn’t everyone else living in a dream world today, after all?

  Steph sniffed the air as the rich scent of coffee drifted toward her. There could be real advantages to life with a morning person. Left up to her, coffee often had to wait until she got to the office.

  Gavin’s whistle stopped, replaced by song. Steph stretched again, then smiled. Wide. With an unaccustomed energy, she leapt from the bed and padded toward the bathroom. Moments later, she pulled back the shower curtain.

  Gavin started at the intrusion of cold air, followed by her undoubtedly cold skin against his back.

  She snuggled closer, warming herself against him.

  “And good morning to you, sugar.” Rinsing the soap from his face, Gavin turned his head to her, broad smile and dimples her reward. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Top of the mornin’ to you, Tweety Bird.”

  He grinned, and she pressed her breasts against his back.

  His response was instantaneous. He whirled and strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her up for a long, heated kiss, his body’s reaction to her as powerful as it had been the night before.

  Steph’s own hunger answered. She wove fingers into his hair and twined one leg around his powerful thigh. As though she weighed nothing, Gavin pulled her higher, wrapping her legs around his waist. Pressing her back against the wall of the shower, he thrust inside her in one powerful stroke.

  “Heaven help me, but I love you,” he gasped, then stopped any protest with his mouth as he took her once more to the refuge only Gavin had ever shown her.

  Steph’s ability to think incinerated in the heat of her response to his hands, his lips, the feel of him inside her. Bliss roared through her veins and snuffed out all rational thought.

  In the aftermath, Gavin held her tightly, his heaving breath against her throat triggering tiny aftershocks that sent goosebumps over her body. He was an assault on her senses, giving her both thrilling release and a sense of safety she’d never known. Steph tried to remember why she was bad for him, but she could only feel the pulse of delight through her body.

  Gavin pulled back and grinned, his eyes still dark with passion but sparkling with good humor. “You have a way with a shower, Ms. Hargrove. I don’t believe I’ve ever had my back scrubbed with fingernails before.”

  Steph was surprised to feel heat rush to her cheeks. She pulled away slightly.

  “Don’t,” he admonished, refusing to let her go. “Don’t ever be embarrassed with me, Stephanie. There’s nothing forbidden to us, and it makes me feel great to have you lose yourself so completely.”

  His good humor was infectious. “As if your monumental ego needs any stroking,” she complained.

  Crooking one finger under her chin, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Ah, but you make a strong man weak, love.”

  Her mouth opened to put him on notice to protect himself, but before she could, he sidetracked her with one more quick, hard kiss.

  “Now, my Delilah, let’s get washed up. You don’t have one decent morsel in this place, and I need my strength.” He paused to waggle his brows at her. “As will you.” His grin killed her, just demolished her. “We’ll adjourn to my place, since there aren’t any stores open. One of us, at least, has the sense to stock up on more than yogurt.”

  “I wasn’t planning on company.”

  “But you had it, anyway, didn’t you? Enjoyed it, too.” His smile was smug.

  “Some people just can’t take no for an answer,” she grumbled.

  Gavin turned her under the cascading water and began to soap her up. “Someone wakes up grouchy, does she? Since I haven’t yet done enough, apparently, to remedy that, let’s see what tricks I might have up my sleeve.”

  “You don’t have any sleeves. You’re naked.”

  “Well, how about that? Pretty handy, yes?” Gavin’s hands slicked over her body, teasing and taunting.

  Steph laughed and set her own fingers to work.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Is there anything you don’t do well?” Steph asked, prostrate on Gavin’s sofa after devouring a trucker-sized breakfast.

  “Let me think about it.” A quick, slashing grin. “Nope.”

  She burst out laughing. “Careful you don’t scrape that monstrous ego on the ceiling.”

  “It’s not braggin
g if it’s true, is it?” He lifted her feet and sat down, then resettled them on his lap and began rubbing.

  Steph was pretty sure her eyes rolled back in her head.

  “There was the one time when my sister Carol asked me to help her fix a dye job on her hair without Mom finding out what she’d done to herself.”

  Steph smiled. “And how were you as a hairdresser?”

  He shrugged. “Was it my fault that I chose to be, shall we say, creative with the mixing?” His eyes twinkled. “Carol wound up with purple hair.”

  “You did that on purpose.”

  “So she accused. Me, I’d claim it as her just desserts after all the times I’d been forced to play silly girl games with her when I wanted to be out with my buddies.”

  “I’d bet you played games with her because you were a good boy.”

  “I’m pretty sure you just insulted me. I am not a tame rabbit.” Then he chuckled. “Anyway, I’d like you to tell my mom I was so good. She’d probably hurt herself laughing. I was a wild kid, and that’s a fact.”

  His eyes caught hers, and warmth spread through her, a sense of contentment she’d never before experienced.

  It should scare the living daylights out of her.

  In some ways, it did.

  “What are you thinking, love?”

  Love. I love you, he’d said in the heat of their joining.

  Oh, Gavin, don’t do that to yourself. I won’t be good for you.

  “Nothing.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.” He lifted one foot and slowly peeled down her sock like a striptease. “But whatever put that frown on your face, let’s see if we can change it.” Never taking his eyes off her, he placed a slow kiss on her arch.

  Steph’s nostrils flared. She couldn’t help squirming in delight.

  “That’s more like it,” he said smugly.

  “You think you have me right where you want me.”

  He waggled his eyebrows, then turned and began to prowl his way up her body. “Don’t I?”

  Steph closed her eyes. Drank in the feel of him popping the snap on her jeans, lowering the zipper, micron by micron. “You’re killing me,” she said.

  He bent his head, nipped at the curve of her hip. “Now why would I want to do that, love?”

  Love. “Gavin…” She had to warn him. “This is just…we’re only…”

  His jaw tightened. “Your litany grows tiresome, Stephanie. You care, I know that. I feel it. I see it in your eyes.”

  But I don’t want to. Can’t afford to. “But…” she began.

  He hushed her with a kiss.

  Just then, his phone rang.

  “Crap,” he muttered and melted her bones with another kiss.

  Soon the phone stopped. He slid his fingers into her panties, and Steph moaned.

  The phone rang again.

  Gavin dropped his head. “It’s my family.” Blue eyes apologized. “I have to take it.”

  She found a smile. “I’ll be right where you left me.”

  His own were serious. “Will you?”

  She made her smile bright. “Are you kidding? I’m not done with you, lover boy.”

  He examined her closely, too closely, then shook his head. “I’ll be back. Stay right there.”

  Then he was gone.

  Steph felt too exposed, lying there half-dressed. Quickly she pulled up her jeans, refastened them.

  Her sock, though, she clasped in one hand as if she could feel the warmth of him.

  And transfer that into her heart.

  “Yes, Mom,” she heard Gavin say from the kitchen. “No, I haven’t had Christmas dinner, but I will.”

  A silence. “No, I’m not alone. As a matter of fact…”

  No. Steph tensed. Don’t do it.

  “There’s someone special,” he finished. “You’ll like her.”

  Gavin, you can’t…

  Bits and pieces drifted in.

  “She’s a marketing executive.”

  “No, Mom. I doubt she wants to live in Tennessee. And it’s too soon to ask.” Exasperation. “Mom, you’ll meet her when she’s ready, not before.”

  Gavin, don’t do this to yourself. To me.

  A sigh. “I love her. That’s all you need to know.”

  Steph jumped to her feet. Slipped on her shoes. Looked around for her purse, so she could get her keys and—

  Gavin had driven her here in his truck.

  She could walk. Or call a cab. Surely they operated on Christmas Day. But she hadn’t brought her phone. She’d been so sated on sex she hadn’t even noticed.

  With mounting horror, she listened as Gavin exchanged greetings with others in his family, and she heard the homesickness in his voice. Cringed when she heard herself mentioned.

  She had to make him stop. Right now, before—

  “That’s right, Dad,” she heard. “There’s someone special now.”

  A chuckle. “Not exactly. She’s…maybe not what you wanted for me, but Dad, she’s exactly what I want.” Another pause. “No, she doesn’t—I don’t know. I’m working on it.”

  Steph chided herself for listening in, but someone had to look out for him. His family, who obviously adored him, lived too far away. They couldn’t prevent him from making this mistake.

  This huge mistake.

  She had to break things off immediately, before he got more involved.

  Because she couldn’t bear to disappoint him, and she would. Not intentionally, no. If anyone had ever tempted her to give love a try, to forget all she knew about how it could go wrong, how unrealistic the notion was…

  Gavin was that person. But it would come to no good end, and that big heart of his would suffer.

  She was hardly an angel, and most times she didn’t really care about the fallout of her actions, but—

  This was Gavin. She had to be better, for his sake.

  Steph watched him pace his kitchen, sometimes laughing, sometimes with the saddest expression on his face.

  She wanted to run, without a word. But if she did, she was positive he would chase after her, the thickheaded fool. He brought new meaning to the word stubborn.

  She would have to break his heart a little now so that later, she wouldn’t break it more by not measuring up to his cockeyed vision of her.

  She knew who she was.

  But Gavin—stubborn, blind Gavin—didn’t.

  So she stood her ground and waited for him to get off the phone.

  Gavin hung up and looked out the kitchen window for a moment, picturing them all there together, one big, messy crowd. The kitchen would be full of women and wonderful smells. On the porch would be his dad and grandpa smoking the smelly pipes that weren’t allowed inside. Outside there would be children running around, dogs barking…

  What he wouldn’t give to be there in the thick of it.

  And how horrified would the woman in the other room be if she could see it?

  A wry smile curved his lips. It would be good for her, though. Stephanie Hargrove was the loneliest person he’d ever met.

  He glanced at the clock. He’d been invited to the Prestons and knew she had, too. Though a part of him wanted her all to himself, they were her friends, and truth be told, being there would make up for some of what he was missing back home.

  He turned and walked toward the living room. “We’d best be on our way if we’re gonna make it to—”

  She wasn’t on the sofa where he’d left her. Where she’d promised to remain. She stood by the front door, stiff and waiting. “I need to go.”

  It didn’t take a genius to know what had happened. “Eavesdropping?” He cursed himself for speaking his heart to his family. Hadn’t he known she was far from ready?

  “You weren’t exactly whispering.”

  He leaned one shoulder on the doorframe, crossed his arms over his chest. “And I take it you didn’t like what you heard?”

  “I can’t marry you. Why would you say such a thing to them?”

 
“Can’t…or won’t?” He kept his voice resolutely casual, his smile wide to hide his sinking heart. “Perhaps I should have waited—all right,” he responded to the protest springing to her lips. “I definitely should have waited, but that doesn’t change the fact of what’s right for us.”

  “You are insufferable. You couldn’t be more wrong.”

  He advanced on her. “Lie to yourself, Stephanie, but don’t lie to me. There’s something between us, something powerful.”

  She lifted one shoulder. “The sex is great, I’ll admit.”

  “Don’t you dare cheapen this by making it about sex.”

  “Damn you, don’t do this.” Her casualness vanished.

  “Don’t do what?” He straightened as well.

  “Don’t you ruin what’s happened. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

  “Who says it’s your choice? I’m going nowhere.”

  “You have to now.”

  “Perhaps you’d care to explain that.” He stepped closer.

  She jammed a finger into his chest. “Back off. I warned you, Gavin. You can’t say I didn’t. If you refuse to listen and get hurt, it’s not my fault.”

  Fury simmered. “Now who has the ego? You’re so sure I can be hurt so easily?” Deliberately he kept his tone lazy and amused, though he was anything but.

  “Don’t you patronize me. I told you I’m not the marrying kind. Marriage is an obsolete institution. People who like each other, who have a good time, they get married and everything goes to hell from there.”

  “Ah.” This was fear talking.

  “Don’t give me Ah. Look around you—divorce is everywhere. Marriage is a hidebound tradition that doesn’t work today. People need to be free to come and go as they please.”

  Anger sparked again. “And being with me would diminish you somehow?”

  She lifted her chin. “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “What is your point, exactly?”

  “I won’t marry you, Gavin.”

  “I haven’t asked you yet, have I? You’re worked up over nothing.”

  “Worked up? Don’t be insulting. Look, I don’t want to argue. We’re too different, that’s all.”