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Gavin had just settled in front of his computer with a steamy cup of coffee Friday morning when his phone bleeped. His heart leapt, but it wasn’t Brooke, it was her mother.
Brooke is on her way to Missoula. Connor staying with us.
He read the message again. Brooke was on her way to Missoula? Why? What had she said about Missoula? She had paintings there—the guy gave her the creeps...
Cussing, he jumped up, grabbed his car keys and sunglasses, and raced out of the house. The damn woman. Of course, she wouldn’t ask: she could do everything on her own, even facing a creepy guy. But hell, there was no way he was letting her drive alone to Missoula to deal with someone who gave her the creeps.
Within seconds, he was behind the wheel of his car and was driving down the street. Inhaling deeply, he tried to calm down. Telling Brooke Johnson he wasn’t “letting” her drive to Missoula would be so the wrong thing to say. By this time, he knew her well. He’d have to find another way to persuade her to let him accompany her.
She was pulling out of her driveway just as he was approaching her house. He stepped on the gas and parked behind her. Her car shuddered to a halt, and the next minute, her door flew open. She was livid. And absolutely gorgeous, although perhaps telling her that at this precise moment would also probably be the wrong move. In a short, frilly-kinda skirt and a top with tiny buttons from top to bottom, she took his breath away. His fingers twitched. Those buttons...
A livid Brooke, he could handle. It was the idea that anyone would hurt her that freaked him out.
“What are you doing here?” Brooke demanded, hands on hips.
He rolled down the car window and slipped his sunglasses down slightly. “Heard you have to get to Missoula. It so happens I’m on my way there, as well. Hop in. My SUV has more space. In case you need it.”
Her eyes narrowed; her mouth opened and closed a few times. “I can do this on my own...”
“I know. I could get into your car if you’d rather drive, but it would be silly not to share a ride when both of us are going to the same place at the same time, don’t you think?”
She crossed her arms. “Why do you have to go to Missoula?”
“I have to see someone. And you?”
She glared at him. “I also have to see someone.”
“So, hop in and we can go and see the someones we need to see.” He looked at his watch. “It’s half-past eight; we should be there at around eleven. Depending on how long it takes you to see your someone, we should be back by nightfall.”
She stared at him for a moment longer. He swore he could hear her mind working. Finally, she threw her hand in the air. “Okay, but so you know—no touching and no kissing are allowed. Let me get my bag.”
It was an effort, but he managed a straight face. “Yes, ma’am.”
With another suspicious glare in his direction, she stomped back to her car. Grinning, he took out his phone and sent Eleanor a quick text.
––––––––
Gavin had turned on the radio, and soothing blues sounds filled the car. Brooke leaned back and closed her eyes. Truth be told, she was very glad not to be driving to Missoula alone. And bonus, Gavin’s SUV was actually big enough so that she could bring the two paintings back herself. She’d planned on having them shipped to Livingston, but now it wouldn’t be necessary.
Normally, she loved driving, but she hadn’t slept much since...well, since this guy had kissed her silly on Monday night. She hadn’t had so many erotic, steamy dreams at night since...well, never.
A mere four days ago. Since then, she’d suddenly become aware of her own needs again. Over the past three years, there simply hadn’t been time to think about kissing, much less having sex. Since Monday though, she’d rediscovered the wonder of being touched, of being kissed by someone who knew how, and who seemed to be so tuned into what she wanted, he knew exactly what turned her on.
But it’s not real—something she had a hard time remembering. It was fake and it was temporary; he had been very clear about that. It would be so easy to reach out and touch his hand. He would hold her hand tightly, like he always did, and he would smile at her. She liked the light in his eyes, as if the smile was just for her.
Oh, damn, there she was, dreaming about the impossible again. Was his six-pack really as rock-hard as it had looked on her phone last night? She’d love to glide her hands all over those muscles, to feel the heat of his naked flesh underneath...
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she quickly sat upright.
“Everything okay?” Gavin asked.
She shook her head. “Not really.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
She opened her mouth to answer him, but he cut off her words with a short laugh.
“You don’t need me, I know. There isn’t anything I can do for you, and you don’t need or want anything from me. Got it.”
He wasn’t angry, just resigned.
With a sigh, she turned toward him. “It’s not that I don’t need you, it’s just...I have a thing about not letting anyone else take over my life again. Adam and I married straight out of college. It was about the same time there was interest in my work. So, he took care of everything and left me to blithely paint and ignore the rest of the world. After he was gone...” She shook her head. “Trying to figure out what was going on was so overwhelming, and if I didn’t have Logan and my mom’s attorney friend, it would’ve taken me much longer to know about my own affairs. I promised myself I’ll never be in such a position again. I have to know what’s going on, I have to make my own decisions, and I have to sort out my own messes.”
Gavin was quiet for a while before he spoke again. “Did Adam take care of Connor, as well?”
“Well, no. He was at work during the day but when he was home, he’d helped.”
“In other words, you took care of Connor even while you were earning money with your paintings?”
She nodded. “Yes, but...”
“No buts. From where I’m sitting, you did your part. My dad used to call my mom his ‘partner’—that’s how their marriage worked, he explained. Sounds to me you were a great partner.”
She pressed her lips together. “Look at you handing out relationship advice. So how come you’ve never married?”
He grimaced. “Told you, I’m not marriage material.”
“Why do you say that? Because of your last girlfriend? What was her name?”
“Sarah. Yeah. She told me I’m not relationship material. She’s right. I’m useless in the dating game. I tend to always screw things up.”
“What happened with Sarah?”
“I found out she was cheating on me.”
“She was cheating on you, and she thinks you’re the one who’s not relationship material? Surely you can see the irony in that? She’s the one with the problem, not you.”
“I couldn’t make her happy.”
“It’s not your job to make anybody else happy! You’re a great guy, Gavin, and any girl would be lucky to date you.”
He grinned cheekily. “Yeah?”
She laughed. “Well, now that we’ve psychoanalyzed one another, why are you going to Missoula?”
“Told you. I’m going to see someone. Why are you going to Missoula?”
The penny finally dropped. “So someone told you I’m going to Missoula? My mother or one of your sisters?”
“Your mother.”
“And let me guess. It was around the same time you suddenly had to see someone in Missoula, as well?”
“You could interpret it like that, yeah.”
“Seriously, Gavin, I told you...”
Glancing in her direction, he took her hand. “I know. But I’ve told you, we can lean on each other. I hear that’s how relationships work.”
“This is not a relationship.”
“Let’s see: I’ve kissed you, I’ve touched you, you’ve kissed me back, you’ve put your hands on me. And I’m going with you to Missoula. I’d call it a relationship.”
“A fake relationship, remember? And anyway, it’s not as if we’re going on a dirty weekend together...” Oh, no, had she really said that out loud? “I mean...”
He was shaking with laughter.
“It’s not funny!” she cried out. “When I’m around you, I say and do things...” Groaning, she rubbed her face. She shouldn’t have said that. What was wrong with her, seriously?
He picked up her hand and kissed it. “Babe, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than going away on a dirty weekend with you.”
“I’m just saying none of this is real. We’re pretending to like each other, to...to be a couple, to get our families to stop pestering us. Remember that.”
With his eyes on the road, he opened her hand and planted a hot, wet kiss right in the middle of her palm. She felt his lips all the down to her very core. “Gavin...” Was that sultry, husky voice really hers?
“How does that make you feel?” he asked.
“That’s not the point,” she mumbled.
“How does that make you feel?”
“What do you think?”
“Too chicken, huh? Can I...may I...tell you what I feel?” He glanced at her before he looked back at the road.
“You may.” Oh, my goodness, listen to her—she sounded like a prim schoolteacher.
He kissed her hand again. “I want you.”
“That’s not a feeling!”
“Of course it’s a feeling.”
“No, telling me what you feel would be you saying something like, ‘you make me happy’ or ‘you make my dopamine levels go all silly’ or even something like, ‘I’ll break my rules for you’ or ‘you’re all my heart ever talks about’—you can’t just say ‘I want you.’”
The next moment, he stepped on the brakes and pulled off the road.
“What are you do—”
But his mouth was on hers, hot and urgent, before she could finish her sentence. Within seconds, she was clinging to him, scared to death he’d stop kissing her.
His one hand cradled her head while the other roamed freely over her shoulders, down her arms, up her sides until those clever fingers folded over an aching breast.
He lifted his head. “I have to see you, babe,” he pleaded.
With her eyes on him, she slowly slid open the top button of her blouse. His gaze followed her every move, his ragged breathing filling the space of the inside of his SUV. When she slid open the third button, he pushed her hands out of the way and opened the rest himself.
For long moments, he stared into her eyes before he looked down. “I don’t talk about my feelings and I don’t have fancy words for you, but I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you right now.” His gravelly voice sent delicious shivers down her spine. “A red bra. Damn, babe, I’m already rock-hard for you, I don’t know...”
With a groan, he slipped a hand into the one cup. Finally, flesh on flesh, skin on skin. She was burning up. Her head fell back. “Gavin...”
“Tell me what you feel?”
“You make me hot, so hot...” she murmured.
He dropped his hand, and her eyes flew open. “What...?”
His hands were back on the steering wheel, his teeth clenched together, the muscle in his cheek jumping up and down. With a backward glance, he started the car again and slipped onto the road. “The first time I make love to you will be in a bed, not a damn car.”
With unsteady hands, she tried to button her top up again, but it was a struggle. They were both breathing heavily and her gaze kept straying to the very clear indication of his desire.
The giggle came out of nowhere, but once she’d started, she couldn’t stop.
“What so damn funny?” he growled.
“We are. I’m thirty-three and I’m making out in a car. On the highway. In the middle of a Thursday morning! Who does that?”
With a satisfied grin, he took her hand in his again. “Two people who obviously can’t keep their hands off of each other. And I have just one thing to say about feelings. I want you.”
That quickly sobered her up. But what happened to these feelings when he left for Seattle? Would it be as easy to bury what she felt as it was to switch off a light? And what would she do if it didn’t work? Her body was burning for his touch, and she had an idea that it wasn’t something that was going to change soon.
So much for no touching and no kissing.