And right now, on his back deck, as night came on, just the taste of her mouth and the soft weight of her pretty body and the scent of her skin, it was all magic to him. She practiced the best kind of sorcery, equal parts innocence and heat.
She pulled back a little, but only to slide that mouth of hers along the ridge of his jaw. She gave his chin a little bite.
And then her lips met his again. He went down a second time, plunging below the surface of all his own objections.
Dragging her tightly to him, he speared his tongue into her beautiful mouth. He was drunk, but not that drunk. He knew that he shouldn’t, that they were friends and this was how friendships ended, that he was violating the very rule he’d once beaten the crap out of Connor for breaking. Because Gracie was Connor’s little sister and a guy didn’t make moves on his best friend’s little sister.
No. Uh-uh. He shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t...
But she tasted so good, like excellent tequila and the best bad decisions. All the shouldn’ts in the world could not hold out against the flavor of her, the feel of her, so soft and wild, in his arms.
She pulled back violently and blinked at him. “We’re both kind of drunk. Maybe this shouldn’t be happening. I’m kind of taking advantage of you in a weakened state, aren’t I?”
“What the...? Of course not.”
“I’m not?”
Wait. He should probably just agree with her, shouldn’t he? Put an end to this incredible craziness.
She kissed him again. His brain got all scrambled in the best possible way.
This time, when she put her hands on his shoulders and pulled her mouth from his, she said, “Then again, since we’re both hosed, nobody’s taking advantage of anybody. It’s mutually consensual. Wouldn’t you say?” His head started nodding of its own volition. And she gave him her beautiful, glowing smile. “That settles it. We should go inside where the condoms are. You do have condoms, right?”
It was yet another opportunity to tell her they weren’t doing this—or even to lie and say he had no condoms. Whatever it took to discourage this completely unacceptable behavior.
This was so wrong. He couldn’t have sex with Gracie for any number of reasons, none of which were all that clear to him right at this moment.
And her mouth...
Her mouth was so tempting, all swollen from kissing him. Her skin was flushed a hot, dewy pink and her eyes were the deepest, purest blue.
He scooped her hard against his chest and got up.
“Whoa!” she cried happily, tightening her arms around his neck, kicking her feet a little like she just couldn’t contain her glee.
He carried her to the slider. She reached out an arm and pushed it open. Owen went through ahead of them.
Inside, the lights were still on from earlier. Dante turned toward the door again to shut it. Gracie did it for him. Without a word, she pushed it shut and latched it.
His better judgment tried to surface, to put a stop to this insanity. He opened his mouth to gently put the brakes on.
And she kissed him. Her scent was all around him and her skin was so soft, her naughty little tongue all wet and delicious.
His objections flew away. There was nothing in his head now but lust and longing. She felt too perfect in his arms and she tasted like heaven and the scent of her was driving him out of his mind.
Hoisting her higher, he made for the hallway that led to the bedrooms.
Chapter Two
Grace woke to morning light.
She opened her eyes and saw Dante, sound asleep on the other pillow, his eyelashes so thick and black against his tanned cheeks. He looked really peaceful.
And that made her smile.
How much tequila had they drunk? A lot. She deserved to have a hangover—a headache, at least.
But she didn’t.
Gently, so as not to wake him, she rolled to her back and shut her eyes. Her smile got wider.
Seriously, what a night.
And with Dante. Who knew? Yeah, she’d always considered him hot. But way too controlled. He wasn’t a happy man, really—a good man, but not happy. She’d always assumed he was the kind of guy who would have trouble getting loose in bed.
Wrong.
She sighed in pure bliss as X-rated scenes from the night before played out on the dark screen of her eyelids.
After the first go-round, which had been nothing short of spectacular, they’d raided his freezer and gobbled Tillamook Mudslide straight from the carton, each with a spoon, passing the chunky chocolate deliciousness back and forth. He’d then ordered her to drink more water to prevent a hangover later. She’d laughed and called him a control freak, but she did drink the water.
Gracie frowned. About then, he’d started acting kind of distant, hadn’t he? She’d had a really bad feeling he was going to start backing off, start saying that maybe it hadn’t been such a smart idea for them to fall into bed together.
But she’d known how to shut him up about that.
She’d kissed him. Worked like a charm. He scooped her right up and carried her back down the hall to his bed, where the good times rolled some more.
Sometime after midnight, they’d fallen asleep. She’d closed her eyes for a minute—and slept straight through until morning.
What a night.
She could not wait to do it all again.
Carefully, so as not to wake him, she eased her legs over the side of the bed and slid out from under the covers. Her clothes were right there on the bedside chair. She put them on swiftly and tiptoed to the door.
Sweet Owen was waiting on the other side. Pulling the bedroom door silently shut behind her, she asked in a whisper, “Need to go out, boy?”
He let out a low whine and turned to lead the way.
Outside, she found her pink Chuck Taylors right there on the deck by her chair, where she’d left them. Her purse was there, too, still hanging on the back of her chair. She put on the Chucks, hooked the purse over her shoulder and walked Owen into the trees to do his business. As she trailed along behind him, she got out her phone to check messages.
There were two texts from Daniel asking if she was all right.
Oops. They had an agreement that if she wasn’t coming home, she would let him know she was okay—and he would refrain from asking questions about what she’d been doing and with whom.
She answered, Sorry. A little too much tequila at Dante Santangelo’s place. Stayed here to be safe. (And to have the best sex ever in the history of sex. But her big brother didn’t need that kind of TMI.) I’m fine. Home in a while.
He responded right away. Okay, then. Thanks for letting me know.
Was he pissed at her? Probably. Daniel hated it when she didn’t keep her agreements. But she was going to call this a win. She’d messed up and he’d been civil about it when she apologized.
It could’ve been so much worse.
On the way back inside, she grabbed the remains of their dinner, the glasses and the nearly empty bottle from last night.
In the kitchen, Owen went straight to his food bowl. He sniffed at it and then looked up at her with those sad doggy eyes. She took the hint and found him a can of dog stew in the pantry closet. After dishing the food into his bowl, she freshened up his water.
“Good, huh?” She stood over him as he wolfed down his meal. “And now I need coffee.”
Dante had one of those pod machines. She loaded up some Peet’s French Roast.
Five minutes later, she was standing at the counter savoring that first cup when Dante, in jeans and a fresh T-shirt, emerged from the back of the house.
She watched him come toward her, her heart lifting just at the sight of him.
God, he was gorgeous. All that thick, wavy almost-black hair, those smoldering eyes. The eight-pack, the V-lines, the ebony
treasure trail leading to fun and fulfilment—and no, she couldn’t see all that amazingness right now. But she had seen it and thoroughly enjoyed it last night. It was all burned into her brain in the best sort of way.
And then she met his dark eyes. Instantly, she knew. It was so painfully clear to her before he even opened his mouth.
Mr. Control was back with a vengeance.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
He knelt to give his dog a good-morning scratch down his back and a pat on the head. “You found the coffee all right?”
As if that even required an answer. She raised her mug to him as he rose. Sliding to the side a little, she made room for him at the coffee maker.
The silence had weight as he loaded the machine and put his cup under the spout. He pushed the button and turned around to lean against the counter as it brewed.
For a good thirty seconds, they stood there, side by side, the coffee maker gurgling and hissing behind him. She drank her coffee and waited. It seemed only fair to give him a chance to not disappoint her.
“Gracie, I...” The sentence wandered off unfinished.
Okay, yeah. Message received. He regretted last night and was about to tell her all about how it could never happen again.
Well, okay then. He would say what he had to say. As for Gracie, she refused to help him in any way, shape or form. She enjoyed her coffee and waited for the rest.
“Gracie, will you look at me?”
Stifling a sigh, she turned her head to face him. Those melty brown eyes were full of self-recrimination and regret.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never should have touched you. I’m too old for you and I’m not any kind of relationship material, anyway. I don’t know what got into me, but I swear to you it’s never going to happen again.”
Hmm. How to respond?
Too bad there wasn’t a large blunt object nearby. The guy deserved a hard bop on head. What was wrong with him? No wonder it hadn’t worked out with Marjorie. The man didn’t have a clue.
But never mind. Gracie held it together as he apologized some more. She watched that beautiful mouth move and pondered the mystery of how such a great guy could have his head so far up his own ass.
Maybe if she yanked him close and kissed him, he’d get over himself and admit that last night had been amazing, the two of them had off-the-charts chemistry and he didn’t want to walk away from all that goodness, after all.
Yeah, kissing him might shut him up and get him back on track for more hot, sexy times. It had worked more than once already.
But come on. She couldn’t go jumping on him and smashing her mouth on his every time he started beating himself up for having a good time with her.
No. A girl had to have a little pride.
He thought last night was a mistake?
Fair enough. She’d actually let herself believe for a minute or two there that they had something good going on, that her long dry spell man-wise might be over.
But never mind about that. Let him have it his way. She would agree with him.
And then she would show him exactly what he was missing. And then, when he couldn’t take it anymore and begged her for another chance, she would say that they couldn’t, that he was too old for her and it wouldn’t be right.
Not that she was vindictive or anything...
“You’re right, Dante,” she said with exaggerated sincerity. “It was a big mistake. One that can never happen again—and about the cabin? I’ll take it. You are a lifesaver. Thank you so much.”
For a fraction of a second, he looked kind of stunned. But then he gave a solemn nod. “Well, all right then.”
“Is there furniture out there already or will I need to bring my own?” She could use her bedroom suite from Daniel’s. Plus, Daniel and Keely had a lot of random pieces stored in the attic and basement of the Bravo house. Getting the cabin furnished wouldn’t be a problem.
“There’s a bed, a table, a chest of drawers, some chairs and some kitchen stuff.” He moved down the counter, took something from a drawer and came back to her. “Here you go.” He handed her a key, which she stuck in a pocket of her cutoffs. “Anything that’s in there you don’t need, no problem. I’ve got space to store it.”
“That’ll work. I’m off from the Sea Breeze again today, so I was thinking I would just go ahead and move in.”
He frowned. She was sure he would start backpedaling, saying maybe they ought to rethink this, that now they’d shared a night of fabulous sex, it wasn’t such a good idea for her to live on his property.
But in the end, he said only, “All right. I’ve got today and tomorrow off. I’ll help.”
“Thanks, but I can handle it.” She would need to scare up a truck and get one of her brothers to take on the heavy lifting. If none of them were available, she had friends. Someone would come to her rescue.
Dante scowled. “I said I would help. We can use my pickup.”
She gave a him big smile. Really, he was a terrific man—well, aside from that stick up his butt. “I hate to keep taking advantage of you.”
“You’re not. Come on, let me help.”
“Then thank you. Again.”
He still looked way too serious. “Gracie, is this going to wreck our friendship?”
She had such a deep longing to make him squirm. It took serious effort to not put on an innocent voice and probe a little, ask him what, exactly, he meant by this?
But no. If she did that, he might just tell her. “No, it’s not going to wreck anything. Not for me, anyway.” She met his eyes straight on. Was he going to insist they talk about it? Really, the last thing she needed right now was Dante getting down in the weeds with all the reasons last night couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t be happening again. “Your coffee’s ready.”
“Right.” He gave a slow nod and took his full mug from under the spout. For a moment, they just stood there, sipping and staring at anything but each other.
Finally, he offered, “How ’bout some breakfast?”
“I would love some.”
* * *
After they ate, Dante showed Gracie the cabin.
She walked in the door, took a slow look around and said, “I love it,” which made him feel pretty damn terrific in spite of his doubts about having her living so close after last night. “There’s room for a sitting area and my bed, not to mention it has an actual kitchen.”
The kitchen consisted of a small range and a compact fridge with a counter and cabinets between them, a sink in the middle. “It’s pretty basic,” he said.
“Don’t you disrespect my new kitchen,” she commanded, looking way too adorable in those damn sexy Daisy Dukes and that T-shirt that exposed her flat stomach and clung to those fine breasts he wouldn’t be fondling again. “Everything’s so clean, too.”
“I got a Groupon for cleaning services a couple of weeks ago. I had them go through the house and then went ahead and paid extra for them to clean this place, too—never hurts to get rid of the cobwebs now and then.”
“There’s even a window above the sink.” She leaned over the sink to peer outside, causing her right butt cheek to peek out from under the tattered hem of those cutoffs that really ought to be illegal. He gritted his teeth and ordered himself to forget about last night and simply appreciate the spectacular view of her shapely behind. “Perfect,” she said with a happy little sigh.
Next, she went through the cabinets and got all enthusiastic about pots and pans, dishes, mismatched glassware and the drawer of utensils and flatware. He watched her bending to look in the lower cupboards and stretching to peer in the high ones. Her butt cheek reappeared more than once and that damn T-shirt kept drawing tight across those breasts he needed to stop staring at.
“I’ll keep the sofa,” she said, “and the drop-leaf kitchen table
and chairs.” She wanted to bring her own bedroom furniture. “You said you have somewhere you can put this bed and bureau?”
“No problem. There’s a shed behind the garage. Plenty of room in there.”
She babbled on, all sunny enthusiasm, about planting rhododendrons by the front door and a rag rug she thought might be stored in the attic at the Bravo house. “That rug would so tie the room together.”
He agreed to all of it. Whatever she wanted. Because she was a friend and a guy helped his friends. Even if, after last night, he was never going to be able to look at her and not see her naked inside his head.
She looked incredible without any clothes on, all that pale, firm skin. Her whole body flushed the prettiest shade of pink when she was turned on.
But he wasn’t going to think of that. From this moment on, he was wiping thoughts of Gracie Bravo naked right out of his brain.
He plugged in the fridge. Together, they moved the chest of drawers and the bed to the shed. Then he followed her in his pickup to the Bravo house up on Rhinehart Hill. Daniel wasn’t there. Keely was, though, along with the kids and Ingrid Ostergard, who was Keely’s mother and also the owner of the Sea Breeze bar where Gracie worked.
Keely took Gracie’s arm. “We need to talk.”
“You’re right,” Gracie agreed.
The two women vanished into Gracie’s room off the kitchen, leaving Dante with Ingrid, the twins, Frannie and Jake, and the toddler, Marie. The twins were busy making what looked like a village of Duplo blocks over by the breakfast nook, the family basset hound stretched out nearby. Marie toddled Dante’s way and kind of landed against his leg. She was a cute little thing, with wispy strawberry curls.
She beamed up at him, causing a tightness in his chest as he thought of his daughters. It seemed just yesterday they’d been Marie’s age. “Up.” So he swung her up in his arms and she patted his face and babbled out nonsense syllables. “You don’t say?” he asked. She babbled some more and he nodded. “No kidding...”
Their Secret Summer Family (The Bravos 0f Valentine Bay Book 7) Page 3
