Distractedly, Julia wandered into the kitchen and opened a cupboard, surveying its contents even though she wasn’t that hungry. She wondered if Gavin had had eaten anything, knowing full well she was just searching for an excuse to talk to him, to apologize. She turned on the stove, found a can of soup and warmed it up. Food was always a good peace offering. She grilled a cheese sandwich to pair with it and, after making him a plate, went to knock on the door.
“Gavin?”
He was unpacking, his back to her. “What is it?”
She cleared her throat. “Are you hungry? I made some soup. Well, more like I dumped a can in a pot and warmed it up.”
He turned around. “Yeah, I could eat.”
She set the bowl and sandwich on the small desk by the dresser. He gave her a murmur of thanks, never looking up at her, and she took that as a dismissal.
With an inward sigh, she wandered back in the living room. She noticed the fire was dying down and the chill of the cabin had nothing to do with her and Gavin now. Might as well make herself useful. All she had to do was throw a log on there and poke at it, right?
Bending down, she lifted a log and threw it in with the others a little too carelessly. Sparks flew everywhere, one stray piece of wood flying to the rug, the flames burning through it with ease. Panicking, she grabbed a blanket, smothering the small fire to a puff of smoke. When she uncovered it, she grimaced at the singed hole in Ashley’s rug. Wonderful.
She blew a stray hair from her face and plopped down on her rear. “Ouch!” She scrambled up, realizing she’d landed on a hot burning piece of wood that had escaped unseen. “Omigod!”
Gavin appeared at the bedroom doorway. “What’s wrong?”
Julia jumped up and down, swatting at her bottom. “I think I’m on fire!”
He raced to her side, concern and worry etched on his handsome face. Then after he inspected her, she noticed amusement in his eyes. “You’re more like—smoldering.”
She groaned. “Is it bad?”
“I’d think twice about wearing these pants in public.”
“Oh, you’re kidding me.” She attempted twist the other way to see the damage. She felt around, her fingers grazing over the damaged fabric of her backside.
“How did this even happen?” he asked.
She gestured hopelessly and faced him. “I was trying to get the fire going again. You made it look easy.”
“Well, you get an A for effort, an “E” and an “F” for Epic Fail.” He chuckled at her playful scowl. “Go change, and I’ll take care it.”
She sighed, grabbed her suitcase, and stalked to the other bedroom to put on a pair of jeans. With a grimace, she tossed her ruined pants in the garbage, and decided she should unpack. But in here? Essentially there were two couples, then her and Gavin. She wondered exactly what Ashley had in mind for sleeping arrangements. If Eli and Betsy were going to share a room—then what did Ashley expect Julia and Gavin to do? Maybe she assumed Gavin could sleep on the sofa…maybe she was secretly hoping Gavin and Julia would get back together if forced into close proximity. The fact she would even attempt it without Julia’s consent didn’t make sense. Someone had to give Ashley the impression a reconciliation was possible.
Could it have been Gavin? But he said he didn’t know I’d be here.
She was so confused. Plopping on the edge of the bed, she rubbed her temples. Oh, Ashley! I wish you were here to explain yourself.
Suddenly, the lights turned off. She gasped in the darkness.
Carefully, she found the door and stuck her head out. The firelight made it easy to see Gavin crouched by the gate. “What happened?”
He swiped his hands and rose. “Lost power. Must be the storm.”
“I think I know where they keep candles and matches.”
It took some digging around, but they found extra candles in the kitchen, and then safely lit several around the cabin to keep from tripping over anything. “Look what I found.”
“A candelabra?” She smiled. “Bring it over.”
He set it down on the dining table. “Is that what it’s called? It’s a little out of place. Don’t these belong in old castles?”
The brass piece looked antique, heavy, with seven holders to fill.
Julia grabbed extra long candlesticks she’d left on the counter, and arranged them in the holders. “No, it’s beautiful. Watch.” She struck a match and lit the wicks, admiring its ornate appeal.
Gavin seemed to agree. “It is,” he said softly, lifting his gaze to her.
Her heart tripped, wondering if he meant the candelabra or her.
Breaking the spell, he pointed behind him, walking backward, raising a brow. “I also found some marshmallows, graham crackers, and a bag of chocolate bars…”
Her weaknesses were presenting themselves one after another. Marshmallows. Chocolate. In the semi-dark with Gavin Beckett.
They sat across from each other at the dining table with the candelabra between them, burning their s’mores over the candlelight.
“Be careful you don’t let the melty stuff fall on the table. I already owe them a new rug,” she said before blowing off her gooey confection and placing graham crackers around it.
Gavin bit off a piece of his s’more and winked at her. “Well, we could use the fireplace, but I’m worried you’ll catch us both on fire.”
“Ha ha.”
“Also…” his words trailed as he looked her over, “at the fireplace, there wouldn’t be a table between us. And I might get the urge to touch you again.”
She gulped her treat down her dry throat, shifting in her seat. Low lighting and pure sugar had the strangest affect on people. It made Gavin dangerously seductive. “So,” she said, abruptly changing tone and subject. “Bruce mentioned you’d started your own business!”
His mouth twitched at her obvious deflection to his comment. “It’s true. I quit the Hollywood scene after all of my contract obligations were fulfilled, then I used the cash I won to open a specialty shop for triathlon training, called ‘Tri-It.’” A wide, proud smile spread across his face. “It’s small, but it’s doing good. The show helped me build my dream.”
Little butterflies danced at the contentment in his voice. She was happy for him. She remembered him telling her about wanting to compete in his first triathlon, and opening his own store. A silent part of her cheered him for pursuing this goal, instead of chasing the money and fame of being on TV, like she’d assumed he’d chosen to do. “Congratulations,” she said, meaning it.
He nodded. “Thanks.”
“Do people come in and ask for your autograph?”
“Sometimes. If they know I own the business,” he said, his eyes locked to hers. “If you’re not constantly in front of the camera, people forget your face. It’s a good thing.”
I never did, she thought. I tried and failed.
With the power out, there was no radio to fill the pauses in conversation, and Julia desperately wanted some outside source to distract her—something other than the enigmatic man sitting across from her. The candlelight only added to his allure, creating an incandescence to his already-hypnotizing eyes, casting his handsome face in a half-shadow. She had the insane urge to place her palm on his cheek, lean in, and kiss him. Forget her pride.
Oh boy. Her resistance was breaking down…she could practically feel it dissolving.
“What about your little side venture?” he asked her. “I know being a brilliant accountant is working out for you, but I hope you’re still trying to conquer your goal of running every Disney half-marathon out there. Just for the cool-looking medals.”
A bubble of laughter escaped her. He remembered that? “Yes, I’m still working on it. The Disney World Marathon is next month. I’m pretty excited. My last half, I beat my personal best,” she exclaimed with pride.
“Good to hear.” He slowly grinned.
Her passion for half-marathons and his love of triathlon training had been one of the things they had had in common, they both liked to run. Less about exercise and more that she just loved to occasionally run in a princess costume with her friends and collect the medals, but it made her happy whenever she crossed that finish line. It was funny how one of her favorite things to do could be so healthy but also so bad for her at the same time: Running for medals and running from love. If only she could take a risk and run toward someone for once. As Gavin gazed at her, she remembered how close she’d come to doing so with him.
She cleared her throat and blinked, needing a diversion. “I—I forgot to put my gifts under the tree.” Moving fast, she scrambled from the table to retrieve said presents where she’d unpacked them earlier. She nervously fumbled with the small gift boxes, and knelt beside the tree to arrange them with the others.
A moment later, she felt Gavin approach behind her. “What did you get them?”
She contained the need to quiver at his closeness. His breath tickled the nape of her neck, and his low, purposely provocative voice flicked every nerve in her body to attention. She stood up, and wondered, if she stepped back, would she be enfolded in his arms like before? Something urged her to give in, and she closed her eyes, imagining her surrender—fighting it. “Um…I bought a pair of handmade earrings from my neighbor. And Bruce is getting tickets to see that comedian he likes.” To end the yearning to fall back into his arms, she turned around to face him.
What a mistake that was.
She lifted her lashes. He gazed back with desire, but said nothing as he searched her face, looking as if he might kiss her. She continued with her desperate rambling, but didn’t move back, didn’t force herself to get some distance. “You know that comedian he’s always quoting? The one that makes raunchy jokes about being in college, when it’s probably been more than ten years since he was ever a student…” Who could carry on simple sentences when he looked at her like that?
“Would you like to know what I asked for Christmas?” He leaned in, close enough that his breath tickled her lips; she pressed them together. Head spinning, pulse racing, she nodded.
“This.” Gavin’s hands suddenly cupped her face. He kissed her, cutting off her breath, her thoughts and obliterating whatever strength she had left. His desperate mouth crushed her lips, the heat and taste of him igniting vivid, lush memories. He inhaled deeply, softening the pressure as he exhaled, making her whimper. His hands trembled in her hair. “I couldn’t help it,” he whispered, his breath fanning her wet lips. “If you tell me to stop, I will. Otherwise—”
“Don’t stop.” She rose on her toes, and he claimed her once more.