He shook his head, embarrassed at being caught unawares. The way she was looking at him made him worried that she’d seen too much. “I’m sorry,” he said, quickly coming up with an excuse to cover. “I was just thinking about work. I got a new client today, and it’s a family thing that could get messy. I was distracted for a moment.”
Gabby pursed her lips and her eyes went heavenward. She blew out a breath of air. “Yeah, I know how that is. I have my own situation at my job. Dealing with a family can be awful.”
He leaned over and topped off her wine. “Care to talk about it?”
She looked pensive for a moment and for a second Nick let himself get hopeful. He thought she was going to share with him, but then she looked back in his eyes. He saw the distrust come up and watched the curtain fall. Disappointment washed over him. “Not really. Actually, I should get back to work.” She took a long sip of her wine and he watched how her lips cupped the rim of the glass and then her tongue, quick as a whip, snuck out to lick the residue from the side corners. He felt his jaw clench.
“Good idea.” He stood and began to gather the dishes but she held up a hand to stop him.
“No, you don’t have to do that.”
“Come on. You cooked—the least I can do is clean up. Please let me.” He nodded toward the living room. “You get back to work.”
• • •
Gabby tried her best to concentrate, but it was irritatingly hard with Nick’s presence looming in her kitchen. The normally comfortable apartment that seemed easy and right with Steve now felt stuffy and hot, and everything seemed out of place and overdone.
Finally she heard the water go off, but then there was a too-long stretch of quietness, and she turned around, her skin prickling. There he was, watching her. Again. “Is there something you need?”
“Those are… interesting.”
Gabby smirked and looked down at her paper, shaking her head. “Just the compliment every designer wants to hear.”
He took a step around the now-gleaming counter, his presence overpowering her more as he drew near. “I didn’t mean anything by that. At least not negative, like you’re thinking.”
She looked up at him, flipping back a wayward curl. “It sure sounded like you did.” Then she looked down at what she was doing, taking in the same old shirring, the centrally placed epaulettes, the blouson jumpsuits, and let out a muffled curse. “Oh fuck.” She mumbled it to herself, though she knew the sound traveled over to him.
“What is it?” He came over and sat beside her, taking the sketch from her hand. Gabby turned to him, meeting his dark, deep-set eyes. So much like Steve’s, but then not. Nick’s had that edge, that something that went just a little deeper to the dark side of dangerous. Something that made her want to step in, but she knew if she did, she may just get lost in them, and no way was she risking going there again.
“It’s nothing, you’re right, the sketches are… interesting, as you say. Interesting to the point of tacky, but hey, they pay the bills and you can’t knock the hustle, right?” She fought to keep her voice light.
He frowned, staring at her sketch of the purple jumpsuit with the midriff appliqué and harem-style pants. He handed it back to her and flashed a half smile, half grimace. “You don’t have to tell me about the hustle. I know all about that.”
She took the paper, careful to avoid his fingers. But she noticed something in his voice—there was a tension there. Leave it alone, Gab, she told herself before immediately dismissing her own advice. “Oh? How would you know about that?”
He cocked his head to the side and licked his lips. It was damned sexy, that lip lick thing he did. She blinked; she wasn’t here to get wrapped up in his sexy lip licking or his deep-set eyes. If they were going to be domicile partners for a while, she wanted to get inside his brain. See what made Mr. Perfect Nick tick.
“Well?” She purposely added that edge of challenge to her voice that she knew grated on him.
He narrowed his eyes. Good. That little bit of concern when he first sat down was gone. She didn’t need that from him. She didn’t need him pretending they were friends. They were much better this way. She smiled.
“Do you always have to give me shit, Gabby? Can’t we just be civilized? I’m trying to be a friend here.”
Gabby pulled back. She was surprised by him being so straightforward. “So am I,” she said, adding a touch of sugar to her voice. “Didn’t I just serve you up a delicious meal?”
He let out a short sigh. “Yeah and now you’re trying to give me grief when I’m just trying to have conversation. Trying to be nice to you.”
Gabby felt that old anger that she’d tried too hard to call on before, come back to the surface with his words. “Trying? I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself or go out of your way. It’s not like I’m still your little charity case from way back when.”
She saw him stiffen and knew he went back to the past right along with her. Back to Bonnersville and their night. He never knew she’d heard the words spoken when he’d left that closet but she had. She’d heard his cute little perfect girlfriend call him so sweet for looking out for Gabby. Saying he was such a do-gooder and that philanthropy was exactly what her family legacy was all about.
As if just fucking her tears away in the closet was an act of charity.
“Shit, Gabby.” Nick shook his head and let out a low curse. “Is my every word going to be scrutinized by you while I’m in this house? Because I really don’t need it. I’ve got enough pressure with all I’m dealing with at work and now the fucked-up Claire situation to contend with. I don’t need to be constantly walking on eggshells with you.”
Something in Gabby’s gut clenched when he said the perfect blonde’s name, but she fought to push it aside. She had no right or reason to have any care about Nick’s relationships. She made a mental note to put that on repeat in her mind and let out a breath. “You know what? You’re right. You have no reason to walk on eggshells around me,” she said. “Just like you have no reason to try and be nice to me.”
“Oh please! Don’t be so goddamned sensitive. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Oh really? And how would I know that?”
Nick opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but abruptly stopped. He looked at her hard, pinning her with his eyes. It was like he was stuck searching for the words and opting to let his eyes do the talking instead. His gaze traveled south from her eyes to her lips and then back to her eyes again. Gabby’s face grew heated as she felt a blush bloom from deep in her belly, causing her nipples to harden and her muscles to tighten. She felt her cheeks flame up and she knew this time she couldn’t blame it on the faulty air conditioner. She bit her lip as the feelings threatened to overpower her—feelings that at her age she should have control over.
She took a long breath and let it out, forcing her mind to politics and reality TV, even Donovan. Anything to douse the threatening fire. Finally she found the strength to be the first to turn away in the game of chicken. Gabby blinked and wiped at her brow. “You know what? It’s hot and it’s getting late, and we’re being stupid. This is getting us nowhere. I’m cool, you’re cool, let’s just leave it at that. Cool?”
Nick cleared his throat again. His voice came out in a husky whisper. “Would it make you happy if I left? If I checked into a hotel or something until I got my living situation sorted out?”
Yes, her mind told her. A million times yes.
But the words wouldn’t come out. She swallowed and looked away. Felt irrational tears threaten behind her eyes.
And then Nick reached out and tipped her chin up at him, forcing her gaze back to his. “Gabrielle, I asked you a question. Is that what would make you happy?”
Damn. She knew she should have just eaten and then packed it in to bed. Put some distance between the two of them. With all that heat smoldering, just one little breeze and it would turn to flame. She shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t make me happy.”
He
inched nearer, his body suddenly close. Way too close. “Then tell me what would.”
Gabby backed up. Or did she inch closer to him? Oh hell, did she really inch closer to him? Stupid body! She backed up.
Nick chuckled. “Your first reaction was better. Your body knows what you want to do.”
She put up a hand, hitting his harder-than-it-should-have-been chest. “Good thing my mind has more sense than my body.” But as the words came out, Gabby wasn’t even half convinced of them. Then he licked those lips again and, freaking all to hell, she did the same. It really was hot in here. He leaned in and then there he was—or better yet there his lips were. On hers. He was soft and tentative, but only for a moment, as if testing to see if she would lash out and bite him.
Gabby didn’t bite. Only tasted, relishing the tender pressure of his lips. Enjoying the absolute feeling of rightness of their mouths meeting. Then he leaned in, increasing the pressure as she inhaled, causing her chest to expand, her body reaching up to meet his. Nick angled his head and opened his mouth ever so slightly, allowing Gabby the pleasure of experiencing the taste of her curry in a whole new way, with wine and heat and passion giving it a spice she never expected. Her body was drawn to him, everything on alert, tentatively arching up, her curves instinctively trying to mold with his hard planes. His tongue darted out just a bit at the same time as his large hand came around the back of her head and intertwined with the curls at the base of her neck as he brought her in closer. She fully breathed him in, feeling slightly tipsy. It was as if she were being drugged by his kiss.
The sensation of their tongues intertwined and stroking caused her eyes to roll back, a moan to escape the back of her throat, and her thighs to clench together as she imagined being stroked somewhere else entirely. It was an intimate dance they did for those few moments—she coming up toward him, heart thudding, and him balancing above her, so very carefully as if afraid to go too far and scare her off. Her breasts rose to meet his hard chest, and it felt so good as his fingers tightened more in her curls and he sucked harder on her tongue. Gabby’s nipples hardened against him as their heartbeats seemed to fall into sync.
But as the same time Gabby felt she was rising, she began to inwardly sink as she felt herself get lost in him. Heard the sound of the blood pumping through her veins and felt her arousal going into overdrive. Warning bells fought with chimes of desire as she sank deeper and deeper, getting lost in their kiss. Then he let out a groan and gave her bottom lip a nip, sending a dangerous shockwave of passion straight to her core. She wanted him so badly it hurt. So badly it made her skin tingle and her toes ache. Wanted him so much that she was ready to jump on him then and there, and to hell with the look he gave her tomorrow. It would all be worth it just to have him inside her now.
Right now.
Gabby’s eyes shot open, and she put her hand to his chest as her past mistakes and fears came tumbling back on her like an avalanche. “You know what? Maybe there is something to that hotel idea. Clearly, you are not one to be trusted.”
Nick stilled and swallowed, breathing heavily. “Me?”
Gabby swallowed too, mimicking him. “You were the one with the looks and the lean-in and the smooth talk.”
Nick lowered his gaze, looking momentarily embarrassed. Suddenly he backed off and held up two hands in a posture of surrender. Gabby had a flash run through her mind of what she’d like to do with him in such a position. She pushed it aside.
“Okay, okay I give. I’m sorry. It was a moment of weakness.” He put his hands down. “But really, how could I resist after a meal like that and with you looking as good as you look.”
Gabby felt her chest clench in pain. A moment of weakness. It was just as she’d thought. That was all she was to him. All she’d ever been. A closet chick. Someone to fool around with for the night and nothing more.
So what’s wrong with that? It’s not like you really want him? The voice in her head sounded suspiciously like the one that spoke up every time she was about to screw up royally. She silently told it to STFU, and told herself to grow a backbone and a little willpower as she pushed at Nick hard, sending him off the edge of the couch.
“Ouch, what was that for?”
“You are such an ass! Barely a week out of your yoga chick’s bed and already you’re trying to fuck with my head? What is it with you? Is it because you think I’m easy pickings and you have that constant need for someone to stroke that that little ego of yours? Well, I’m not biting. Not tonight and not any night. I’m much more than anybody’s moment of weakness and way past being yours.”
She stood up as best as her shaky legs would let her and then bent over the table, gathering her sketching utensils, snatching them up, and clutching them to her heaving chest. She stepped over Nick’s body while trying her best to ignore the anger in his dark eyes. She couldn’t help but notice the way his delectable lips, that just seconds ago were on her own, were now set in a firm, wide line. If looks could kill. She felt a little bad at the satisfaction it gave her seeing him react this way. But still she prodded at the tiger, causing him to growl as she got to her bedroom door. “Have fun stroking your own ego tonight. Just keep it down. I’m a pretty light sleeper.”
Chapter 8
“So everything is fine?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
“And Gabby’s good?”
“Yeah, she’s good.” Nick leaned back in his desk recliner and listened to the accusatory silence on the other end of the phone. “Steve?”
“What?”
“Did you call for anything else? You want to tell me about your new job? Or did you only want to ask about Gabby?”
“Nah, man, the job is great. It’s fantastic being out here on the set and you should see how they set us up. They flew us out here to this island and it’s looking just like Survivor, only we’re not starving. It’s like the world’s best summer camp. Our gear packs were outfitted with so many condoms you’d think it was a gift bag from the fucking Olympic committee.”
His brother cracked up at his own joke. Nick stayed silent.
“What the hell? That was funny, bro.”
“Yeah, it’s real funny.”
Steve was quiet again. One beat then another before he spoke. “Yeah, that’s just what Gabby said too. You sure she’s fine?”
“I said she was, didn’t I? Why are you asking so much? I said she’s okay and so did she, so get off it.”
“You find a place yet?”
Shit. Nick felt like he was being suffocated. “I’ll be out by the time you’re back. I’ve got my assistant working on it. Look, I’ve gotta go. Later.”
He hung up and stared at the phone for a moment. He knew there was no excuse for taking his frustrations out on his brother. It wasn’t his fault that “Wimp” and “Avoidance Pussy” were now his first, middle, and last names. But there it was. He had taken the coward’s way out for the past week, ducking and dodging Gabby like a cub scout in a heavyweight fight. Now it was 7:45 pm. and he couldn’t really avoid going home any longer. He inwardly grimaced. It was ridiculous. He needed to be concentrating on work, on the Sutton account, on the Claire situation, on his apartment hunt. Now was not the time to be worried over Gabby’s oversensitive feelings. He felt his lips curl up. He had hoped she was over the past, but clearly she was not.
Nick thought once again of the scene that had played out with the two of them that night. It had taken all he had not to take her advice and take things into his own hands, so to speak, once she’d stomped off. She’d had him so riled up after that kiss. It was mind blowing; kissing her was like an erotic experience on a whole other level. Nick could only imagine how he would respond, if he was let loose to really explore her body like he wanted. Their all too short past encounter was only enough to keep him hungry and longing for more all these years. The thought brought a rush to his head and a pull to his groin that had him cursing under his breath.
Shit. It was wrong. Damn it, he’d thought he
was over her. He needed to be over her. She was not the woman for him, and he was surely not the right kind of man for her. He couldn’t set her up for that kind of hurt again. Nick lowered his eyes, momentarily closing himself off from his files and his office and losing himself in a daydream of Gabby. He went with it, blissful, for just a few moments before the voice of his father crackled in his head. Doors slamming, screaming, and then tears. No, he wouldn’t do that to her, and he damn sure would not do that to himself.
“Fuck.” Nick cursed out loud this time. He knew what he wanted and needed. Which was a woman who could keep the personal on a professional level. And he also knew that Gabby deserved so much better than what he’d ever be. She was a dreamer, always had been, and a woman like her, no matter the tough edge she tried to display, wanted it all—the love, the care, the promise of forever that it took a better man to give. The kind of man he wasn’t bred to be. Nick turned and looked out his office window, taking in the view of downtown Manhattan the sliver of glass afforded him. He looked at the twinkling lights, watching the nightlife of the city come to life. He thought of the light in Gabby’s eyes and how much he loved seeing it. The lump that was becoming perpetually lodged in his throat jumped again.
The extreme distrust in her eyes when she looked at him now was totally warranted. He’d hurt her once and seen that pain, that hurt, that utter disappointment, he never wanted to see that expression on her face again.
But not hurting her wasn’t something he could promise. He disappointed people. Like his mother. Oh, his father had broken her heart, but it was Nick who’d killed her in the end. They’d fought late one night over her stress and heartbreak for his father’s philandering ways after the man had run out on them again, off to one of his girlfriends, no doubt. Nick had called her weak for crying over a man who didn’t deserve her, and ran out of their apartment. When he got home, she was already gone. A heart attack at forty-six. They said she’d died peacefully in her sleep, but he knew it wasn’t peaceful, and it would haunt him forever that the last thing he’d said to his mother were not words of love, but judgment and condemnation. She’d died with hurt from the man who was supposed to cherish her forever and from the boy who was supposed to love her unconditionally.
Threads Of Desire (Creative Hearts Book 3) Page 8
