"In a minute," Addie promised. "Can I talk to Tanner first?"
After her nephew assured her that he was having a wonderful time being spoiled rotten for the evening at Jonna's, Addie told him good-night and flipped her phone closed. She headed back into the ballroom, pausing in the doorway to orient herself and see if the group of businessmen were in the same place as when she'd left.
As if her presence were a tangible thing, like a shock of electricity, Giff stopped in midsentence and lifted his head. Across the crowded room, his gaze locked with hers and he smiled.
* * *
ON STAGE AT THE FRONT of the ballroom, one of the waiters spoke into a microphone, informing them that they should all take their seats and dinner would be served momentarily. Giff braced himself, wondering what to expect from the group dynamic at his table. Even though Brooke and Jake hadn't used a bridal party at their wedding, the seating arrangements treated Giff as best man and Brooke's sister, Meg, as the maid of honor. The head table would be the happy couple, Giff and Addie, plus the wildly unconventional Meg. Her date for the evening had been a tattoo artist who'd stormed out moments ago after an argument with Meg. The meal should be…interesting.
He placed a hand on the curve of Addie's hip, trying to keep his eyes from wandering down to the hem of her killer dress and the shapely legs revealed below. "It's not too late. I think I saw a couple of unclaimed seats back there. We could be the Holdensteins at Table 14."
Addie smirked at him over her shoulder. "They're the guests of honor, Giff. You can't avoid them all night."
"I haven't been avoiding them," he protested. "They've been surrounded by people ever since we got here and I was patiently biding my time, knowing I'd have the chance to offer my congratulations at dinner."
"Not from Table 14 you wouldn't."
He traced his fingers up her back, appreciating the silky softness of her dress but knowing intuitively that her skin would be softer. "What if I said the reason I hadn't gone out of my way to introduce you to them was because I've been enjoying your company so much this evening that I selfishly wanted to keep you all to myself?"
"I'd say you were very suave." Her gray eyes sparkled. "And very full of it."
And with that, he was converted. Suddenly he couldn't wait for Jake to meet her because even his skeptical, overprotective friend would have to see how sexy and witty she was. There's no chance I want Addie just because she could be a good wife and mother. I want Addie because she's Addie.
But just as Jake had underestimated Giff, Giff had underestimated his friends. Had he really been worried about tension? Brooke and Jake went out of their way to greet Addie with friendly—but not intimidating—enthusiasm.
"I'm so glad Giff brought you tonight," Brooke said with a welcoming smile. "I had a good feeling about you from the moment I saw you at the bistro. Woman's intuition."
Meg snorted, peering around her sister to where Addie sat between Jake and Giff. "Intuition, ha! Don't let her fool you. Up until a few months ago, my sister believed solely in facts and figures and had no use for stuff like instinct and emotion."
Brooke didn't even bother getting defensive. Instead, she simply shrugged. "I've changed for the better."
You're not the only one, Giff thought. When he'd been talking to those businessmen earlier, he'd realized that he was no longer as mindlessly driven as he used to be. He was still interested in what was going on in Houston's business community, but he had other priorities now, too. He could see himself getting just as emotionally invested in one of Tanner's soccer games as local technology mergers.
He used to be the kind of man that got husbands in trouble, monopolizing their time at social events with industry discussions until their wives complained. Tonight, he'd been the one fidgeting, looking for the soonest opportunity to excuse himself from the conversation. Of course, a shift in priorities wasn't the only reason he'd been restless this evening.
People asked about what he was doing these days which turned the topic to his network forensics for Daughtrie. Even though no one had asked about—or even knew about—his investigative attempts there, the situation and Bill Daughtrie's ultimatum were weighing heavily on Giff's mind. He'd never felt guilty before about not being able to tell Addie the whole purpose for his being hired because confidentiality had always been part of his job. He was used to keeping client secrets; that was simply professionalism. As someone who worked in the field, she would understand.
However, now that he'd discovered she was being targeted, used, it was difficult to remember this was a professional matter. It felt damn personal. He wanted to confide in her at the same time he wanted to shield her from it until he had more answers.
"Yo, Baker." Despite his attempt to sound glib, there was an undercurrent of concern in Jake's voice. "You still with us?"
"Sorry. My mind wandered." He wondered if Jake and Brooke, based on past experience with him, would assume work had preoccupied his thoughts. Ironic that they would be right and completely wrong at the same time.
"Giff, have you seen the wedding cake yet?" Brooke asked out of nowhere. "Jake, you should show him. We have a few minutes before the next course, you two take your time."
Jake flashed a wide cowboy grin at his wife. "Darlin', you know I love you, but subtle you ain't. You might as well have told us to take a hike."
Giff could feel the vibration of the laugh Addie smothered, and he exchanged grins with her.
"Subtle is for people who have more patience," Brooke said, adopting an aggravated tone. "Now go show your friend the darn cake."
"Yes, ma'am." Jake rose from his chair. "Giff, you might as well come with me. She's not going to let us eat until we've talked."
Even though both men knew the cake had been nothing but a hastily seized excuse for giving them a moment's privacy, they meandered in that direction. Next to the stage, set up for the band to play after dinner, was a white lattice-work archway. Underneath, a chocolate groom's cake and four-tiered wedding cake sat on a decorated table. Giff grinned at the unique cake toppers—a plastic red fireman's hat and a tiny typewriter.
"Cute," he remarked.
"I'm sorry about what I said to you at the house," Jake said without preamble. "Brooke about wrung my neck when she heard what happened. She's worried that's why you're quiet tonight, that you're ticked. All I can say is, my intentions were good."
"Understood. You were looking out for a buddy. Which is sometimes annoying as all hell, but it's part of being a team." Giff recalled the lecture he'd given to Tanner in the ice cream parlor. Teammates weren't perfect, but they supported one another anyway.
"If it makes you feel better, I'm eating crow tonight. Addie's wonderful."
"I know. Stay away from her," Giff said in a mock growl.
"I can't do that. I know all kinds of great stories about you that I bet she'll want to hear." Whistling softly, Jake sauntered back toward the table.
Making good on his threat, Jake entertained everyone over roast beef with embellished stories of Giff's adolescent scrapes. But Giff was happy to pay him back in kind, regaling them with Jake's many misadventures. Meg finally pleaded with them to stop because she was laughing so hard her eyes were tearing up.
"If I lose a contact, one of you is going to have to drive me home," she said.
When they realized that the tables around them were being cleared, conversation slowed and they got down to the serious business of finishing their food. Except that Giff noticed Addie was pushing the roasted rosemary potatoes around her plate without actually eating any of them.
He leaned close so that no one could hear them. And because he enjoyed the excuse to breathe in her scent. "You okay? You're not uncomfortable with Jake and Brooke?" He'd been impressed with how well the evening was going, but maybe that was because he was already well acquainted with everyone at the table. It might be different for Addie, as an outsider to the group.
But she looked stunned by his question. "They're terrific.
I wasn't honestly sure I could like them, but I was wrong. In fact…Jake reminds me a lot of my big brother. You would have liked Zach. I'm sorry you'll never get to meet him."
"I feel like I already have," Giff said, "through his kids."
She gave him a tremulous smile. "I love you."
Giff's heart stopped. That admission had been the last thing he expected and until he'd heard it aloud he hadn't realized just how much he would love hearing it. His lips parted, the natural response on the tip of his tongue. But the guilt he'd been feeling earlier, over not being able to tell her the whole truth about what was going on in her department, tripped him up. Wouldn't it be better, when he told her he loved her for the first time, for there to be no secrets between them?
"I—"
She shook her head, placing a finger on his lips. "It's okay, you don't have to say it. That was…It's too soon. This was the wrong place."
"No! No, I'm glad you said it. I feel the same way."
Biting her lip, she regarded him with equal parts doubt and optimism. Conflicted over what else to say, he simply squeezed her hand and hoped that his feelings spoke for themselves.
After dinner was officially over, Jake's father went to the front of the room to thank everyone for attending and sharing in the newlyweds' joy. Then he made a toast, followed by Brooke's dad and Meg, who delivered a passage in French that sounded elegant but which she admitted to her table had actually been an extremely naughty poem. Giff realized that, as informal best man, he was expected to say something, as well.
He cleared his throat. "I'm Giff Baker and I've known Jake pretty much my entire life. We grew up together, played football together, and drank entirely too much beer at the Dixie Chicken together."
Mention of the landmark bar in College Station was met with hoots and a smattering of applause.
"But even if I'd only met Jake today," Giff continued, "I could tell at a glance that he's married to exactly the woman he was meant to be with, the beautiful Brooke McBride. Jake, Brooke, trust me when I tell you, I couldn't be happier that the two of you found each other and ended up together." He winked at Addie, then hoisted his glass to the room in general. "Cheers."
On the heels of Giff's toast, the band began to play. Couples straggled onto the portable parquet dance floor.
Meg scooted her chair back and smiled at Giff. "I don't know if you noticed, but my date eighty-sixed me pretty early in the evening. Addie, would you mind if I borrowed Giff for a quick turn around the floor?"
"Uh, would you settle for me instead?" Jake interrupted. "Giff hates dancing."
Addie giggled, drawing curious gazes from around their table.
Giff recalled holding her in the orange glow beneath the ice cream parlor's parking lot lights; the urge to have her in his arms again was overwhelming. "Actually, I very recently discovered I do enjoy dancing. But I'm afraid all of my dances are promised to someone else tonight." He held his hand out to Addie.
As they walked away from the table, Meg's voice followed them. "Lordy, those two are almost as sappy as you guys."
It wasn't until they'd reached the edge of the dance floor that Giff frowned. "I'm not sure I thought this through."
"What's the matter?"
"All the stuff we discussed before," he reminded her wryly. "Two left feet, lack of rhythm, coordination more suited to the end zone than the fox-trot. I liked the slow dancing, but this song is a little fast for what I had in mind."
She brightened. "Oh, I can fix that. Just give me a second."
Addie let go of his hand and made a beeline for the bandstand. The pop song faded out—a verse sooner than Giff had anticipated—and a poignant ballad replaced it. She sashayed back to Giff wearing a self-satisfied smile.
"I told them the bride specifically requested something slow and romantic," she explained.
He laughed, then pulled her into his arms, kissing her before they began their obligatory swaying to the music. The material of her dress rustled against his clothes in a soft, intimate swish, and he tightened his hold on her. She was a perfect fit for him. But as much as he was enjoying her tantalizing nearness, it only left him wanting more. He ached to be closer, to be inside her.
He captured her gaze with his, trying to see if she felt the same way. "Addie."
"We could go back to my place," she offered shyly. "The kids aren't there."
His pulse quickened; she was experiencing the same need that pounded through him.
"Or we could go to mine. You've never seen my house." He wanted to share it with her, wanted to share all of himself. Smiling, he touched his forehead to hers. "Plus, I live closer."
"Then what are we still doing here?"
* * *
THERE WAS A LOT TO ADMIRE about Giff's house. But as Addie preceded him inside she found herself thinking not about the spacious Spanish tiled kitchen or high graceful ceilings or the backyard pool and hot tub that were visible through the Palladian window—but about underwear.
When she'd been getting dressed for this evening, she'd entertained the ideas of various body-enhancing options for beneath her daring dress. A padded bra, perhaps, for her top half or a high-waisted minimizer for the bottom. Now, she was vastly grateful she'd passed on those in favor of a simple set of pale green bra and panties edged in emerald lace.
Giff loosened his tie. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
"Thanks, but I'm good." Her eyes were riveted to his hands, watching as he removed the tie and tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair, atop the jacket he'd carried inside. There was no reason for her throat to have gone dry, except she couldn't help the progression of her thoughts from that innocuous accessory to other articles of clothing. Images tumbled through her mind, her undressing Giff, Giff undressing her. Touching her.
She swallowed. "On second thought, I could use a glass of water."
He was chivalrous enough not to comment on her change of heart. "Coming right up."
Still finding it difficult to look away from him, she ignored her surroundings and followed him with her gaze as he opened a cabinet and pulled down a glass. He filled it with filtered water from the refrigerator and carried it back to her.
Their fingers met as he passed it to her. "Here you go."
She drank some gratefully, then smiled. "Nice and cool. Thank you. It was getting hot in here."
He removed the glass from her hand and set it on the counter behind her. The house, dark beyond the kitchen, was silent except for a loudly ticking clock in the next room that could have just as well been her heart.
Giff's voice was a low rumble as he wrapped his arms around her. "Would you like the grand tour now?"
She shook her head, her body so sensitized by his nearness that even the brush of her hair across her neck made her shiver. "Later." Much later.
He dipped his head toward her and their mouths fused in a hot, open kiss. Their tongues slid together, and she caught his bottom lip gently between her teeth. Giff's hands had dropped to her waist. She was almost surprised to find her own hands clutching his shirtfront.
With shaking fingers, she attempted to unbutton it, but was distracted by the increasing urgency of their kisses and quit. He rocked her pliant body against his hardness, and she moaned, immediately repeating the action. His hands slid up her back and she heard the soft rasp of tiny metallic teeth. Cool air hit her bared skin, and his fingers edged beneath the material. Then her dress pooled at her feet.
"God bless whoever invented zippers," Giff said reverently. He hissed in a breath. "Damn, you're beautiful."
She peered up at him. "Thank you. But I feel underdressed."
He shrugged out of his shirt in record time, then his belt hit the tile floor. "I know we postponed the tour, but would you like to see my bedroom?"
"I thought you'd never ask." Emboldened by the way he was devouring her with his gaze, she walked ahead of him into the shadowed living room, adding a swing to her hips as she passed.
"You're evil,"
he drawled. "Turns out, I like that in a woman."
She shot him a grin over her shoulder. "I just realized I don't know where I'm going."
"Doesn't matter. I'd follow you anywhere." He advanced on her, grabbing her around the waist. In one fluid motion, he lifted her off the ground and spun her toward the couch. They landed with her in his lap, kissing once again.
Giff drew his teeth along the sensitive curve of her neck, palming one breast through the silky material of her bra. "We may not make it to the bed."
Her body melted at the raw need in his voice, and she arched into his touch. "Keep doing that and I promise I won't complain."
When he reached for the front clasp of her bra, she could feel the slight tremble in his touch and tenderness rushed through her.
"I know it sounds like a line," he whispered, "but I don't think I've ever wanted a woman this badly."
She skimmed her hands over the muscled planes of his chest. "I'm inclined to believe you, since I've never wanted anyone this badly, either."
Truthfully, she was surprised by the straightforward intensity of her feelings. Addie had only taken a few lovers in her life and it had been years since she'd been with someone new. She might have expected some momentary awkwardness between them, or shyness over Giff's seeing her nude body for the first time, but as he slid her bra away, leaving her bared to his touch, all she felt was a deep, delicious sense of expectation pulsing through her.
Watching her face, he thumbed the peak of her breast and she met his gaze, reveling in the way he touched her, relishing the power she found in touching him, until the escalating sensations became unbearable. She squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back, rocking against him.
It felt so good.
But when Giff pulled her astride him and finally thrust inside her, that felt incredible. With one hand cupping her hip, he helped her keep her balance as she raised herself up and moved against him. She knew from working with Giff that he was a focused, goal-oriented man, and now she was the recipient of his thorough, determined finesse. He subtly slowed her down when she would have pushed harder, prolonging the ripples of pleasure until they built into waves that threatened to crash over her. Then he slid a hand down to where they were joined, matching his caress to the pace of their bodies.
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