by Jayne Rylon
But when she peeked over at him, he’d gone serious.
“You’re gorgeous, Amber. And I’ve been really impressed by the things I’ve heard about you from Kay.”
“I think she’s laying it on a little thick.” Amber wiggled her fingers, wishing she had some food to sprinkle into the pond for the fish below. They broke the surface, enticed by her idle movements. “And…I don’t know. I thought I was immune to their flirting and innuendos and the latent attraction always humming around the Hot Rods in general.”
“But you’re not?” he wondered.
“Maybe it’s just too much with the crew too. Hell, how many of them are there between the two groups? Twenty? Even my mom and Tom are giving each other googly eyes. It’s enough to make a girl…”
“Horny?” he supplied in what sounded like a hopeful tone.
“Lonely.”
“Ah, shit.” He paused as if weighing the merits of being honest in his quest to spend more personal time with her. Then he admitted, “Yeah, it makes me feel that way too sometimes, though I know they don’t mean it to. Besides, truth is, I’m more traditional when it comes to sex, I guess. Maybe I’d experiment some, but I tend to limit my indiscretions to the standards—drinking, drugs and wild women to excess.”
Those were not comforting thoughts. She knew he wasn’t exaggerating either. After all, he’d met Roman in rehab. People could change—Barracuda was living proof of that—but so far, Gavyn seemed to be struggling. What if she did something to set him back?
Unintentionally, of course.
It was too much responsibility.
While she worried her lip, he stroked her hair, tucking the strands that had fallen forward behind her ears, then petting her from her crown to the middle of her back where her straightened locks fell in gentle waves. After several circuits, he whispered, “Amber, I’m not out here with you tonight simply because you’re the only other unattached loser in the bunch.”
She snorted. “Gee, thanks.”
“There could be a hundred other women partying over there and I would still be trying to hook up with you. There’s something about you…”
“Is that what you’re doing?” She cut him off before he could say something he didn’t mean simply to impress her. He didn’t have to. The maddening caresses through her hair were doing a fine job of promoting him to her libido as it was.
“Oh, sorry. Was I supposed to hide my nefarious intentions from you?” He turned his face toward her and she mirrored him, staring into his light eyes, wondering what they would look like in the daylight this close up. Golden and gorgeous, probably.
“Nah.” She shrugged. “You weren’t very subtle, and I don’t like liars anyway. I’d rather have things out in the open. That doesn’t mean I’m going to give in. You don’t understand how it is with me.”
“Let me guess…complicated.” He sighed.
“Yep.” She laughed softly.
“Figures.” Gavyn let his arm drape over her, and she didn’t fling it off. It felt too nice. “That makes me feel better, though, love. I’m no simple man myself. I’m kind of a shitty bet, but I’d do for a couple nights.”
“Ringing endorsement of yourself there, Gav.” She cracked up and turned onto her side, suddenly more fascinated by him than the fish below.
He shrugged. The humor had fled from his face, erasing the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth. She brushed her thumb over the spot, sad to see them go. “Honestly, Amber, I’m kind of freaking out.”
“Why?” She tipped her head.
“Do you know how much booze is at a wedding?” He licked his lips. “Plenty.”
“We can change that. No one will mind. I was already concerned for Roman. I’m sorry I didn’t think that through.” She winced.
“How about we come up with a different strategy? One where you keep me distracted? Be my date.” He frowned. “Unless that’s too much like babysitting…”
“No.” She put her hand on his cheek and thought of the way he’d held her hand at the doctor’s office earlier. “I’d love to go with you. Besides, I already did the seating chart. We’re next to each other to make the table counts even since we’re the only singles in the bunch. Why fight it, huh?”
He laughed, some of the fire returning to his gaze. “Wouldn’t want to make more work for you, rearranging everyone.”
They lounged together, watching each other as they settled. After his breathing seemed shallower and more steady, he asked, “Roman was really okay with the alcohol? He’s fucking amazing. I don’t know how he does that.”
“You’re doing a great job too, you know? It’s not easy for him, but he loves Carver and I think, finally, he might be learning to say the same about himself. Those things give him the strength to resist. I can’t imagine what it was like to grow up like he did, with an abusive parent. My mom might have checked out for a while after my dad died, but she’d never hurt us on purpose. It’s no wonder Barracuda learned to rely on alcohol to numb the pain.”
“See, that’s the thing.” Gavyn turned his face away. He rolled to his back and studied the stars with his hands behind his head. “I’ve got no excuse. My parents were sort of indifferent. They never lifted a hand to us or did anything other than provide their best for us. No one else in my family is an alcoholic that I know of. I know they say it’s genetic, but who the hell gave me this disease? And why can’t I cure it?”
Amber had no idea if she was equipped to answer him in the right way, but she knew when someone needed reassurance. So she gave it. She tucked herself against Gavyn, resting her head on his chest and tugging his jacket over them until it covered both of their torsos. “All we can do is our best, and it sounds like you’re doing that. We can’t always change who we are. I guess that’s why you make me uncomfortable.”
“Huh? Me?” He looked over at her, close enough now to kiss her again if he wanted. “How?”
“As I’m sure you noticed, I have a thing for order. For predictability.” She sighed.
“I believe the term you’re looking for is control freak, love.” He softened the criticism with a soft buss of his lips on the tip of her nose.
“If you want to go that far.” She had to try not to smile when she pulled out her feigned disbelief. “I can’t put you in any box. You’re crazy and kind. Sexy and arrogant. Outrageous and understanding. And when you call me ‘love’ it almost sounds like you have a British accent, which is ridiculously hot.”
“That internship in London is finally paying off, then. So what you’re saying is that I’m driving you nuts?” He sounded far too happy about that.
“Exactly.”
“It’s a start.” He hummed. “Not bad for day one. Just wait until you see what I bring to the game tomorrow.”
Amber would have laughed, except just then he rolled, pinning her beneath him. He stretched her hands above her head and captured her wrists in one of his palms. She had no intention of escaping, though, when he lowered, imprinting himself along every inch of her that was suspended over the garden oasis.
“May I kiss you, Amber?” His wicked grin belied his formality.
“If you don’t, I might knee you in the nuts. Again.”
Their laughter blended as he descended and took control of her smile. He plied it with bold strokes of his tongue and nips of his teeth before discovering what happened when they fused more completely. He swiped the roof of her mouth and along her tongue, swallowing her sighs, which threatened to shatter the stillness of the evening air.
When he’d stolen every last molecule of air from her lungs and made her woozy with desire, he lifted off and backed away, sitting on his heels as he sucked in breath after breath.
“You’ve got work to do, don’t you?” He held out his hand to her.
“What happened to your evil plan…?” Maybe it had run off with
her resistance.
“For tonight, I want to pretend I’m one of the good guys.” He shrugged.
Amber scooted off the net and got to her feet. When Gavyn joined her, she rose onto her tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips before whispering, “You are, Gavyn. You are.”
Chapter Four
At precisely seven o’clock the next morning, Gavyn balanced a tray of steaming coffee and a heaping breakfast for two, which he’d whipped up with the help of his sister, on one hand to knock on the door to Amber’s cabin. It’d been worth Kayla’s knowing grin to secure a hot meal that wouldn’t poison their hardworking guest. He figured it might earn him a few bonus points if he saved her a trip to the main house when she would no doubt be eager to dig into whatever project it was she had planned first.
Hell, he’d spied the light on in her cabin well after three a.m. while he’d tossed and turned, mentally building a case for why he should stay put instead of kicking down her door before convincing her to let him fuck her senseless. The willowy shadow she’d cast on the thin curtains hadn’t bolstered his defense to his stiff cock.
This time it was his head he banged on the door, while waiting for her to answer.
Though it would be even better if he was about to eat breakfast in bed with her, he looked forward to sharing a quick meal before diving into the day.
He couldn’t believe he was actually excited to work on wedding shit. With her.
“Yo, Amber! Are you in the shower or something?” Gavyn set the tray down and leaned over the porch railing to peek in her window. It was dark inside.
Oh, shit. Had he gauged her wrong? Was she actually getting some rest, like the doctor had prescribed? He frowned at the food growing colder by the second.
“You’re wasting your time,” Joe, who was walking past with his cousin, Eli, and his uncle, Tom, called from the path that meandered through this clump of cabins.
That was probably the truth. But Gavyn couldn’t give up on the spark he’d felt from the first moment he’d spotted Amber or the passion she’d given him a hint of when they’d kissed the night before. Embarrassed, he abandoned his lame offering at her door and jogged over to the three men.
“Does she have a boyfriend?” Gavyn couldn’t stop himself from asking when he got to them. That might explain her reactions, as if almost guilty about wanting him in return. He knew she did. It was a lot easier to read a woman when you weren’t drunk off your ass apparently.
Plus, Kayla had been nudging him toward the sexy planner for weeks. That didn’t mean she knew the details of Amber’s personal life. Not as well as Eli would. The Hot Rods didn’t keep anything from each other and Nola certainly had the dirt on her sister’s love interests.
“Huh? No.” Cobra shook his head. “But she’s been up for a couple hours already. Sabra saw her go for a jog while she was doing yoga at the ass crack of dawn.”
“She came over to the workshop to borrow some tools to install stuff at the pergola around six,” Joe added.
Gavyn practically snarled. He bet she hadn’t crashed at all. Yet she’d given him some lame-ass start time as if he couldn’t handle an early beginning.
“Can I tell you what I’m seeing here?” Tom asked.
“Why not?” Gavyn kicked a rock. It bounced off the bark of a tree.
“Amber’s not the kind of woman used to accepting help, never mind asking for it.” Tom waved his hands in front of his chest. “She’s tough, and she’s not going to be very happy about you storming in here and trying fix her problems for her. If she won’t even let her sister—or the rest of the Hot Rods gang—lend a hand, what makes you think she’ll allow you to?”
“Because I’m just some drifter asshole with nothing better to do, not someone who matters. Definitely not someone she’s trying desperately to gift a dream wedding to.” Gavyn shrugged.
“I don’t agree with that assessment, but…if you want any chance at convincing her before you put her hackles up or scare her off, you’re going to have to change your tactics. Everything should seem like it’s her idea. Let her see how much she’s doing for you. Make yourself vulnerable, and maybe she’ll do the same.” Tom smiled kindly, as if he knew how difficult that would be for a man who wasn’t used to letting anyone in.
Hell, some of the women Gavyn fucked hadn’t even known his name. By comparison, Amber already surpassed everyone he’d been intimate with. And wasn’t that sad? “I’ll give it a shot.”
Didn’t seem like his usual methods were getting him very far.
“Good luck, kid.”
“Thanks. See you guys around.” He hung his head as he headed back to the porch to reclaim the tray.
As they drew away, Eli ribbed his dad. “If you’re so damn smart when it comes to women and relationships, how come you aren’t walking down the aisle with Ms. Brown this week, huh?”
Gavyn could relate to Tom’s exasperated grunt in response. Food in hand, he took off toward the platform that held the elaborate structure Amber had designed.
He had admired the four-sided archway as the crew had constructed it the past few weeks, even helped some with the easy shit like hauling in supplies. The open-air formation didn’t block the scenery while making an impressive spot for a significant occasion beneath the lattice dome at the center. It looked like it had always been there, yet enhanced the natural beauty of the resort.
After this, Kayla planned to make weddings a regular offering at Bare Natural. They’d be a hit once people got word of the improvements and saw the photos of this week’s affair. He already knew it was going to be spectacular. Not to mention a ridiculous moneymaker.
This time, when he rounded the bend leading to the ceremonial marker, he slowed, acting as if he just happened to wander by. He didn’t even say good morning until Amber looked up and spoke first. “Oh, Gavyn. Hi.”
“Hey yourself,” he mumbled, trying for a tone about ten billion times more casual than he felt when he saw her again. In a thin, light blue sweater that hugged the curve of her breasts and the dip of her waist, she nearly made him trip over his own feet. The pair of jeans that left hardly anything to his imagination wasn’t bad either. Every molecule in his body stood at attention and buzzed faster with her nearby. The rush was like one he’d gotten from the strongest shot of espresso he’d ever slammed in his courtroom days, or even the high that came after snorting a couple lines of coke. He was afraid he could get addicted to her. “Mind if I sit and eat?”
“It’s not my place.” She shrugged with a hint of a mile. “Do whatever you want.”
“Careful what you ask for.” He thought of the wicked things he’d like to attempt. If it were up to him, he’d have her stripped and kneeling in the soft grass in the next heartbeat, to hell with his absurd fantasy of remaking himself into someone decent.
They were both quiet for a bit as he perched on the wooden stairs that led to the square platform under the arches, then shoveled half of the omelet and hash browns into his face. He chomped down harder than necessary as he watched her in his peripheral vision. She lugged stuff around and climbed to the top rung of the ladder before standing on her tiptoes—precariously perched—to drill in a metal bracket for what looked like a curtain rod.
When it was either bite his tongue off or say something, he asked, “Want me to get the rest of those?”
“You don’t think I can handle this by myself?” She didn’t bother to look at him as she rearranged the supplies under the next location.
Warning. Warning. Danger. Warning!
Gavyn considered the advice Tom had given him and reformulated his approach.
“That’s not it, Amber. I don’t doubt that at all. But, you know, it’s not like I got the Hot Rods a wedding present or anything.” He tossed it out, casual-like. “If you let me do this with you—contribute to the effort—I’ll feel less like a slacker who’s always mo
oching off my sister and her friends.”
His fingers gripped his thigh so hard he swore he was leaving bruises. Saying things out loud that he’d only visited in the dark of night as he berated himself, especially to a woman he was insanely attracted to, was tougher than he’d thought. Her judgment wouldn’t just sting. It might crush him. And he had nothing to numb the pain.
Gavyn set aside the tray and stood, slowly approaching Amber, who’d made it down again in one piece.
Instead of arguing, she paused. She chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds while he stood there, with his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans. When he prepared himself to walk away and let it go for good, she nodded. “Okay.”
“Seriously?” Score one for Mr. London.
“Yeah, you’re taller. I’m having some trouble reaching these.” She grinned as she tossed him the drill.
“I’ve been told I’m a pretty good screwer,” he boasted.
“Don’t make me change my mind.” She crossed her arms though her gorgeous smile still lit up her face, despite the slightly-less-puffy bruise she’d pretty successfully covered with makeup. “Just for that, I’m stealing some of your eggs while you’re installing those brackets.”
“Have at it.” He didn’t dare let her see his triumphant smirk as he climbed the ladder and got to work. The click of her fork against the plate filled him with ridiculous levels of satisfaction. And when she licked cinnamon sugar from the toast off her thumb, he thought he might howl.
“This is really terrific. Did Morgan cook it?” She spoke with her mouth full. He only took that as a second compliment.
“Actually, I did. With some help from my sister.”
She got quiet again, making him afraid he’d blown his cover. So he ignored her and kept drilling holes. When he moved clockwise to the next arch, he’d built up a light sweat. Or maybe she’d done that to him. Either way, he stripped off his button-down shirt, keeping his black tank top in place.
Amber sounded like she might have choked when the muscles he’d defined lately came into view. Pride filled him, that his body could impress her. Still, he didn’t acknowledge her unintentional praise, instead going back to work.
