Gavin removed his jacket and kicked off his boots, as he insisted, “I'm sure someone will show up sooner or later. Might as well get comfortable.” He kept his gaze down, combed fingers through his damp hair, and Julia got a flashback of his large hands running over her skin… how it had felt to run her hands over his muscled chest as he bent down to kiss her…
He looks so good, she thought in agony as she watched him hang his coat up and untie his boots. His tall, athletic frame moved about with unhurried grace. She was reminded of raking her fingernails down his broad back, clutching the back of his head as she panted beneath him. He wore that dark brown mane of his a little shorter now; she used to run her fingers through it while they talked in bed. Now it was a cut meant for little fuss, but it suited him just fine.
He dominated the room with his masculine energy. It made her feel crowded, anxious for space. Gavin was the kind of man a girl was warned not to succumb to, but in the end, she stood no chance of resisting once he touched her.
He had a certain mix of charisma, fearlessness, and a contagious appetite for life that drew others in. Three years ago, on a dare, he auditioned to be a contestant on a reality show called The Search, where each contestant was dropped off in a foreign city, and looked for clues to find the others.
Gavin had been selected, and it was no surprise his leading-man good looks, boyish sense of adventure, and sharp wit on camera snared him thousands of dreamy-eyed fans. During his journey, he found another contestant—the vivacious Brooke Simmons—and they struck up an on-screen romance that lasted for over a year after the show aired. They made frequent appearances on spinoff shows, The Search reunion, and were even rumored to have their own series in the works with other reality couples. Then, they disappeared from the public eye for a minute, and didn’t reappear until their breakup. Their relationship had apparently ended several months before Julia met him.
When he turned around, she jerked her attention away.
She felt tricked by her friend; trapped by the storm. Ashley knew almost everything that had happened between Julia and Gavin. All the fun, passion, and quickly blossoming deep feelings…and how it devastated Julia to end things. So, clearly her friend would know that Gavin's presence would upset her. What was the point? To bring the “closure” Ashley was always talking about? Well, good intentions or no, Julia wanted an explanation.
While she paced the living area, trying to calm down, Gavin sauntered to the kitchen, ever so cool and nonchalant. “It could be worse. We’ve got food and shelter.”
Despite herself, she smiled at the understatement. “It’s more like a luxury palace made of wood. Ashley’s idea of ‘roughing it,’ I guess.”
As he came out of the kitchen, she retreated to a chair near the fireplace. He took a seat on the sofa, leaning his elbows on his knees, looking like he had a few choice things to say.
Please don’t. I’m not prepared to talk about us.
“You look...” He slowly perused her. “Er…different. Wasn’t your hair darker when we met?”
She frowned, unnecessarily smoothing her shoulder-length locks. His pressing topic of conversation was about her hair? Her nondescript, dark brown hair? “No, it's the same. So are you,” she added, “The same.”
His mouth half-lifted. “Am I?”
Damn that irresistible smile. Discomfited by his seemingly easy-going demeanor while she was rioting on the inside, Julia rushed to fill the silence. “I read you still like to party,” she blurted. “That you’ve been throwing wild bashes at all hours and are dating an American Idol. Or something.”
His eyes went cold, but his voice maintained lightness. “Is that what you read in the gossip rags? Well then, I guess there’s nothing I can tell you that you don’t already know through the paparazzi.”
Guilt bubbled inside. Normally, she strolled right past those magazines at the grocery store, but every once in a while, she’d get stuck behind a dozen people, and catch his name on a headline. Though she’d try to pretend she never saw it, it would be too late. She’d skim the article, telling herself she was indifferent to what he was up to, and then stuff the magazine back, regretting she’d opened it. Not indifferent. Not yet.
“So what about you?” he asked. “What have you been up to?”
“I got a promotion at the bank,” she told him, wishing he hadn’t started this conversation. Her life sounded so ordinary compared to his, but why wouldn’t it when she measured it to a reality star’s? Sure, working for a bank didn’t scream glamour, but numbers were her thing, and she was darn good with them. Too bad she wasn’t as savvy with her love life.
“A promotion? That’s great. I knew they’d promote you within the year. I even said so. Remember?”
She swallowed the little lump forming in her throat, and looked away. “I remember.” It was one of the things that had quickly endeared him to her, his encouragement and support. His fearlessness toward life rubbed off on her a bit, and rather than meekly inquire about a raise, she’d presented her supervisor with a confident presentation of why she deserved it. He not only gave her the raise, but a promotion a few months later. The first person she wanted to call was Gavin, even though she hadn’t spoken to him for months.
His stare unnerved her completely, unraveling her strength, as if he was daring her to meet his eyes and see what he really wanted to discuss. Them. Was he really so bitter that he’d been dumped instead of being the dumper? She wasn’t proud of the title, but she was proud she’d had the nerve to do it. Self-preservation had demanded it.
Avoiding his gaze, she pretended to memorize the pattern of the rug. When Gavin started to reach out towards her, Julia gave a slight jolt.
“Don’t worry,” he drawled, moving his hand to the firewood, throwing one on the dying fire and arranging it with the poker. “I won’t touch you.”
Her head buzzed with the nearness of him. She couldn’t act or talk rationally with Gavin so close. She was trying not to admire how attractive he was in his navy blue Henley, sleeves rolled up. The first few buttons were undone, showing his strong neck and the beginning of a wide, warm and smooth chest…Ugh! Stop it. Clearly, a year’s worth of time hadn’t weakened her attraction. Just how long would it take?
“The only thing I’m worried about is our friends. Surely, they wouldn’t just leave their cabin here wide open without checking in. I hope they didn’t get stranded in the storm.”
“I’m positive wherever they are, they’re safe. Besides, we couldn’t go anywhere if we wanted to. My rental car will need the jaws of life to get out of the mound of snow it’s buried under.”
Fantastic news. The only transportation out here was his car.
Unable to sit still, she pushed off the chair and ventured to the window, watching the storm drop new snow on top of old snow, promising a long night—with Gavin. Last winter, a couple weeks before Christmas, they’d talked about taking a trip up here with Ashley and Bruce. They wanted to rent their own cabin and hit the slopes. They had a fun argument about the sport of choice. She defended good old-fashioned skiing, while Gavin claimed it wasn’t nearly as cool as snowboarding. He’d tickled her into submission to give it a try, and she looked forward to making the arrangements. But she never did.
Sighing, she turned for the kitchen.
She needed to get a grip—maybe a grip on another glass of wine.
• • •
Is she really that uncomfortable around me? Gavin wondered as he watched Julia fidget from one area to the next. He’d been genuinely surprised to find her inside when he’d gotten back from collecting the firewood, despite Ashley’s promise that she would be there. The weather had turned ugly, and he expected their scheme to fall through, worried Julia would be delayed by the storm.
He hadn’t planned on having her all to himself for the night.
It was good to see her, after so long, in the flesh. Ever since she broke up with him, Julia’d been a regular headliner in his dreams. The woman he would chase, but never hold, and he’d wake up in a sexually frustrated sweat.
When he had commented on how she looked—in her white sweater, hair down, her skin flushed—he had wanted to say she was more beautiful than ever, not just different. But he’d come off sounding like a jerk. Not how he hoped their first conversation would go.
He rose, crossing his arms as he watched her move around the kitchen and pretend to ignore his stare. A memory came to mind of Julia trying to cook an omelet, wearing only his vintage Bob Marley t-shirt, and coughing till her eyes streamed with tears when she’d dumped nearly half a can of chili powder on the eggs by accident. The month and a half they’d spent together was permanently burned in his brain. He regretted nothing…save for whatever he did that made her run.
If only he knew exactly what went wrong. Or could read her mind. One night they were in bed, making love, making plans…the next day, he came out of the shower to an empty bed. She’d left without a word.
Scratch that. She’d left a note. All it said was “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore.”
After he tracked her down for a real explanation, she had listed off excuses about them living in different cities, that she didn’t date celebrities, and didn’t want to get involved with someone on the rebound. Gavin had tried to explain to her an hour’s drive was hardly a long distance in a city as sprawling as Los Angeles, and that he wasn’t on the rebound, but she didn’t want to hear it. Hurt, he had forced indifference into his tone when he finally gave up and told her “It was fun” and drove home in a disappointed fury.
No big deal. He’d been disappointed before. Like when he realized his relationship with Brooke was nothing more than a ploy to boost her Q rating and lead to an acting career. He waited way too long to break it off, hoping that what they had was salvageable, real, after two years together.
However, after realizing their fifteen minutes of fame were over, Brooke’s interest in him had waned, Gavin spent less time pursuing TV spots, and their relationship suffered. They ended it on amicable terms, and quietly, went their separate ways. When he tried to move on and date again, the tabloids noticed, wondering what happened between him and Brooke, and suddenly he was branded a cheater and a player. It took a few months before the paparazzi got bored with him and put the attention on someone else for a bit.
Then he met Julia at the costume party. She was dressed up as his favorite hot sauce, Huy Fong Sriracha, in a snug red dress and little pointy green hat, looking just like the bottle. When he told her how much he loved the Chinese hot sauce on everything, including her, she’d laughed, and he was a goner. His desire was instant, undeniable. She didn’t ask what his connections could do for her, didn’t relish putting their new relationship front and center to see herself on magazine covers, as others had. Funny, unpretentious, bright, and laid back, Julia had very unexpectedly become more, puzzling and exciting him in one blow. It wasn’t long after they hooked up, he realized she wasn’t just any girl, or another casual fling.
Even now, the blood in his veins burned to carry her to the bedroom and make her surrender to him, then demand she give him another chance to win her heart. But pride checked him from going that far yet. Now that he had her here, he wasn’t sure what to do next, when she seemed so opposed to even being near him. He’d hoped being away from L.A., the spirit of Christmas, and having friends silently cheering him on, would give him the best shot in winning Julia back. Now, by a twist of the weather, he was on his own for longer than he’d anticipated, and her guarded, bristling disposition thwarted his previous optimism. Looks like he’d follow her lead, and drink on it.
“Do they have any whiskey?” he asked after he watched her swallow down half of the contents of her wine glass in one gulp. He gave a light chuckle. “Be sure to take a breath between sips.”
“Very funny. But you’re right. I should save the wine in case we’re stuck here for days and days.” She located a bottle of whiskey and poured a shot. Julia blew air up from the corner of her mouth, making a strand of her tousled long hair flip away from her eyes, a quirk of hers when she felt nervous, and he always found it adorably sexy. Damn him for noticing that.
“Wine is the last thing we need to ration if that were the case. I’ll listen to the radio for a weather report. It can’t go on like this forever.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking about their weather predicament or this longing for Julia he still felt. As he stepped toward her, she thrust the glass into his hand and moved around him, the scent of her soap drifting past his nose. He closed his eyes and threw back the whiskey, hoping the liquor would get rid of his rising need. How many times would he try to get close to her tonight before he gave up?
Apparently at least once more, since he set down the glass, then followed her.
Julia knelt in front of the stereo and toyed with the tuner, getting nothing but static. Though he knew keeping his distance would be wise, Gavin sank down beside her.
“Here, let me try,” he said, touching the tuner, grazing her fingertips. She softly gasped, and their eyes locked and held for a moment.
Good to know his touch still had some sort of effect on her.
“Fine,” she said, yanking her hand away, sinking back to sit on her heels. “You take over.”
He turned the dial, listening for a clear station. Julia busied herself going through the couple’s music collection, and he couldn’t stop staring at the deep V of her sweater, where a hint of her pink lace bra peaking out. He fantasized about dropping his head to her neck, tracing his lips over her soft skin. And while he tasted her, he’d wait to hear her moan his name in pleasure, as if he was the only man in the world who could make her do that—
“Gavin!”
He blinked. Her voice was sharp, nothing like the way she’d say his name in his fantasy. “What?”
“You’re going too fast,” she said, quirking her eyebrow at the tuner.
As I recall, I always went too slow for you. His mouth twisted wryly as he turned the dial back. At last, he found a local station with a clear signal. There was no announcement about the weather, but a familiar Christmas song: “Grandma got ran over by a reindeer…”
Julia grinned, and her smile shot straight to his heart. “I love this song.”
He started singing, “You might say there’s no such thing as Santa…”
Her eyes lit up. “But as for me and Grandpa, we believe…”
Their mutual laughter was the first real moment between them that wasn’t strained with questions and longing. He hoped it would last. “I’ll leave it here. I’m sure a report will come on eventually. It’s not like we can’t just look out the window and see for ourselves.”
“Right.” She sighed heavily at his reminder that she was still stuck with him. The light moment flitted away. With an inward groan, Gavin moved to the fireplace, wishing he knew the right thing to say. And, at the same time, wishing he could be as turned off by her presence as she was by his.
Nevertheless, he was going to get some answers from her, and this time, she had nowhere to run. He had to know if Ashley was right, if Julia still had feelings for him. If she didn’t, he was in for a long night with an ex, and Ashley got his hopes up for nothing. If Julia did harbor even the slightest feeling for him, however, then he hoped it was only a matter of time, and patience, until he had her in his arms again.