Watching her facial expression vacillate between nervousness and outright fear, he felt a smile creep up like a burglar canvasing an unsecure neighborhood.
“Don’t worry—your mother loves me.”
“Of course she does, but—”
“I’ll meet you there.” He tossed the words over his shoulder as he grabbed his keys and sauntered out of the house, leaving her to feel the burn of being alone.
Chapter Ten
Mackenzie hurried back to her mother’s house after leaving her late night shift at the nursing home. Not because she was particularly worried about her mom—she would be sleeping after her evening dose of pain meds—but because things were getting…comfortable… with Gabe.
She hated thinking it. But she loved feeling it.
She had spent the past week watching his shoulders relax. He had started to joke with her mom, and then with her.
When she looked at Gabe, so comfortable in her mother’s kitchen, she saw the old him. The high school him. The make-her-smile-all-the-time him.
Mackenzie tiptoed into the house, cursing the squeaky front door. She didn’t want to wake him up. She wanted the chance to watch him sleep for a few minutes before making her way back to her old bedroom.
She knew how creepy the idea was. Since coming home to Healing Springs, she had already snuck into his bed when he wasn’t home, pranced half naked in the shirt she had basically stolen from him, and tried to hijack his brain with a nostalgia bomb.
This was different. This was not her way of desperately trying to seduce her way back into his heart.
This was her trying to come to terms with the fact that the boy she had loved for her entire teen and adult life had turned into a man incapable of loving her back.
This was her enjoying the lack of tension in his face and body as he was at his most vulnerable.
This was her not letting him know how much his presence affected her.
She had been doing her best to keep that information to herself. To pretend her insane need to seduce him had been temporary. A moment that had passed.
“Glad you got out on time tonight.”
She startled at the sound of his voice and tried to suppress the spike of adrenaline coursing through her at his unexpected presence in the kitchen.
She pressed her hand to her chest. “What are you doing up?”
“Saving you cookies.” He gestured to a plate in the center of the table. “Really good ones.”
“You made cookies?” Her mother couldn’t stand on her bad leg long enough to boil water, never mind to make cookies. She had never known Gabe to bake.
His deep laugh slipped over her like a satin sheet, tingling her senses and warming her insides.
Seeing her cat rubbing herself against his leg did strange things to her, too, especially when he reached down to scratch behind Ella’s ear.
He hated pets. Why wasn’t he shooing her away?
“Nothing I’d put in an oven would ever come out this good.” He reached across and bit into a frosted cookie, grinning around the treat as crumbs tumbled to the table. “A woman from your mother’s book club stopped by with a casserole and a big batch of cookies.”
“And who exactly are you fending off to save them for me?”
His eyebrow shot up and a lusty grin sent a jolt to her neglected parts. A jolt only he could deliver without even trying.
“The answer should be obvious.”
She removed her coat and hung it over the back of the chair.
“So you stayed up past midnight to prevent yourself from eating cookies that you’re saving for me?”
His grin injected helium into her mood, first inflating her, then threatening to make her drift off. The only problem with the feeling was that she’d eventually plummet to the sea and strangle some poor, innocent sea creature.
His flirtation grounded her and endangered her at the same time.
And yet she couldn’t help but play along.
“I think you’ve breached your protective walls. You seem to be eating the very cookies you claim to protect. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just go to bed?”
“I think you know the answer to that one.”
His eyes were intense. Powerful. They beamed across the room and pinned her to the spot.
She should decline his cookie invitation and put herself to bed where she could spend the night adrift in dreams of what once was. Like every other night. Where she could toss and turn and analyze what he said and what he didn’t say.
But his hair was disheveled. His grin was intoxicating. And when Gabe beckoned, she could never walk away.
She kicked off her shoes, grateful for the chance to free her toes after a long day of working at the print shop and then the nursing home.
Mackenzie felt the intensity of his gleeful gaze as she slipped into the chair and grabbed a cookie. She couldn’t stomach the thought of consuming anything with her belly roiling like the last bit of water circling the drain, but without eating the cookie, she had no excuse to sit there. With him.
She licked the crumbs off her lips. He watched. Her heart pounded. He pushed his glass over to her side of the table, and without thinking, she lifted it to her mouth, wondering if she had placed her lips in the same spot where his lips had been. She watched him watch her as the cold milk slowly trickled down her tightening throat.
Gabe cracked his knuckles and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His eyes darkened and his leg shook wildly, shaking the table and maybe the foundation of the old house.
“I should go to bed.” Mackenzie didn’t wait for him to respond. She needed to get out of his presence before she made a fool of herself. Again.
He was at her side before she could rinse the glass.
Too close.
Hogging all the oxygen in the room.
“Goodnight, Gabe. Thank you for the cookies.”
As if in a trance, and wondering where the hell she had found the ability to speak, she remained glued to the spot as Gabe reached his hand toward her face.
If she cared about herself at all, she’d retreat.
She started to step back. She thought she did, anyway.
“Wait.” His voice shook. She wondered if he noticed. “You have a crumb.”
With the pad of his thumb, he brushed a crumb away from the corner of her mouth. She closed her eyes, reveling in his gentle touch and his fiery intensity. His other hand cupped her cheek while the thumb that removed the crumb ran sweetly over her lower lip.
Don’t kiss his thumb. Don’t pucker your lips. Pretend he isn’t your husband and isn’t touching you.
She had to give her brain credit—it was trying to protect her.
Not trying hard enough, though. If her brain really cared about her wellbeing, it would have forced her legs into flight mode and carried her away from this danger.
“How’s the weather tonight?”
She thought he had been about to kiss her and now he was asking her about the weather?
Her mind struggled to keep up with the turn in events.
Her mind struggled to pretend he wasn’t still touching her.
“Uh…” What had he asked? “The weather? It’s, uh, not bad.”
His thumb stroked in the opposite direction, sending tingles over her entire body.
“It was unseasonably warm today.”
“Yeah. Nice for January.”
“Only a little spattering of rain.”
“Yeah.”
He leaned forward, his face dangerously close to hers. She ran her tongue over her lips, and he immediately traced over the moisture with that gosh darned erotic thumb of his.
She imagined him running that same thumb elsewhere on her body.
Her knees weakened, threatening her stability.
And not just the stability of her body. The stability of her everything.
“Come with me.”
He was close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek. To smel
l the sugar and the faint lemon scent of the cookie he had eaten.
She’d go anywhere with him.
He released his grip on her face and reached down for her hands. Hands that itched to touch him but didn’t dare—one hung limply at her side while one gripped the counter.
He didn’t have to work hard to pry her fingers free.
He stepped backward, and heaven help her, she followed.
He lifted her coat and placed it on her shoulders.
She slipped her arms in, her eyes begging him for answers.
“It may have been warm today, but I suspect it’s chilly without the sun.”
The corner of his mouth curled and flattened as if he were trying to hide a smile. Probably laughing at her ignorance.
He led her to her shoes. Why wasn’t she stopping him? This was ludicrous.
He could be leading her to her slaughter, and she’d go with a smile on her face.
Not that her face was capable of smiling at the moment, frozen as it was. Immobilized by his gentleness.
He let go of her long enough to put his own coat and shoes on, and the lack of contact was enough to break the spell.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “What exactly do you think we’re doing?”
“What do you think we’re doing?”
His eyes twinkled in the mischievous way she remembered from when they were young.
When he’d stop by this very house in the middle of the night to steal her away while her mother slept down the hall, never suspecting that her daughter was out doing naughty things with the boy with the gorgeous hair and eyes and personality.
She didn’t want to tell him what she thought he was planning, because chances were very good that she was completely misreading the situation.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve played.”
His voice started on a light note and darkened as he stressed the last word, sending bubbles of warmth through her bloodstream. Her toes curled in her shoes, and she wished she were sixteen again with no concern for anything but how quickly she could get out of her clothes and into his arms.
The rush of air when he opened the door gave her chills, but she knew it had nothing to do with the air temperature.
It had everything to do with his hand grabbing hers and pulling her behind him. It had even more to do with the careful way he closed the door to minimize the sound.
Just like the first night he had convinced her to sneak out. His hair had been longer then and shaggier. He had been the most charming boy she had ever met, and he had worked his magic over her mom, too. He had managed to convince her that even if her mother found out, she wouldn’t stay mad for long.
She had followed him with no real hesitation all those years ago, and she found herself doing the same in the present.
She stumbled on the step, but he caught her.
His eyes said he wouldn’t let her fall.
She knew it was far too late for that promise.
“Where are we going?” she asked, though she loved the thrill of the surprise. “I didn’t grab my keys.”
She knew he hadn’t grabbed his, either.
“We don’t need keys for where we’re going.”
He pulled her along, and she practically jogged to keep up. But his excitement zinged through and reached her soul, reviving her more intensely than the espresso she had indulged in between jobs earlier in the day.
When he took a right at the end of the short road, she knew where they were headed.
Talk about a nostalgia bomb. This time he was on the offensive.
She blinked rapidly as they approached the playground. It hadn’t changed much, other than a few new pieces and an upgraded sandbox.
“Race you to the swings?” She hadn’t taken the time to think before the familiar words slipped out. His grin paralyzed her, though, and for the first time in their history, he made it to the swings first. His win entitled him to first choice of swings. Naturally, he chose the highest one—the one she would have chosen.
“I can’t believe you won!” She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to still the wild hammering of her heart, which, unfortunately, had more to do with his devilish grin than with her sprint.
“You can’t believe it?” His eyebrows shot up and he laughed.
“I’ve never lost before.”
His grin broadened.
“You do know I always let you win, right?”
“Oh, please. You did not!”
He shook his head and laughed.
“Kenzie, I was on the track team.”
“So?”
“I won championships.”
“I know you did, which made my wins all the more incredible.”
He stared at her with that strip-off-my-clothes-and-mount-me-on-the-swing look he was famous for.
She mounted her own swing instead and kicked off, relishing the cold air cutting her flaming cheeks.
He took the bait and began to swing, too, and she smiled as their feet shot up higher and higher.
After a few moments, she started to feel sick and slowed the swing.
“I don’t remember swinging making me feel so nauseated.”
“That’s the joy of being young.”
“You calling me old?” She turned toward him, clutching the cold chain of the swing.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“Good. Because you’re older.” Even if he hadn’t aged a bit.
“You have to rub it in?”
Oh, there were things she wanted to rub…
“Did you really let me win?”
His grin and his shrug told her that he had, in fact, let her think she was faster all those years, but he shook his head and feigned embarrassment.
“Nah. Just trying to make myself seem cooler.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” She reached over to swat him, but he jumped off the swing and dodged her swat.
“First one to the top gets the bumpy slide,” he shouted over his shoulder as he bolted to the wooden structure with the forts and the slides and the wavy bridge.
He won again, but his boots slowed him down on the slide and she made it to the bottom first.
She leapt to her feet and shook her hips back and forth, twirled around, and waved her arms in the air.
“Who’s the winner now?”
Still sitting at the bottom of the slide, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, watching her intently.
Unable to take the heat of his gaze, she slowed her dance and sought a distraction.
“Ooh, a zip line!”
She skipped her way to the new playground equipment and prepared to slide across. She lifted her legs off the ground and soared, laughing and enjoying the feeling of being freer than she had been in over a decade.
He stepped out of the shadows and stood at the end of the zip line. She noticed him too late, and though she attempted to slow so she wouldn’t crash into him, there wasn’t enough time.
Her chest bumped into his, and while she tried to save face and get away before melting into him and begging him to stay in this time warp with her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her steady.
She watched the puffs of his breath as they curled up around his face and drifted off into the night air. She marveled at how quickly their breath synced. She hadn’t done it on purpose, but her hips pushed forward until they lined up with his, thanks to his casually bent knees. Their contact felt natural, as if they had been created for this one moment and not all of the other bad ones.
“You’re so beautiful in the moonlight.” He brushed her hair away from her eyes as she held onto his arm with everything she had.
She tilted her chin upward, basking in the glow of the moonlight, the frigid air, and his warm presence.
“Gabe…”
“Shh…” His finger covered her lips, effectively quieting her.
Why did she feel the need to discuss anything when the fire of the moment burned so brigh
t? Why ruin a good thing with reality?
She wrapped one arm around his neck. Then the other. He didn’t push her away. Instead, he pulled her a little closer. She wished she hadn’t worn the extra turtleneck shirt under her scrubs. Fewer layers would be incredible.
“Why’d you let me win all those years?”
She loved the little crinkly lines next to his eyes. He’d be amazingly handsome as an old man when the lines became more defined and longer and showed the joyful way he tended to live his life.
The joy she had slowly taken away. The motivation for her to leave.
“I could never resist that cute little victory dance you did every time you won. Those moves always had a potent effect on me.”
She remembered the way he had stared as she had done that dance moments before.
“In the past?”
He nodded. He leaned forward. A mere millimeter to go before his forehead would bump hers.
He paused. She pulled.
“Not just the past.”
A little whimper escaped from her throat, but before it could fully leave her body, his lips pressed against hers and brought the whole world to a stop.
His nose was cold against her cheek, but his lips were fiercely hot. His tongue teased the crease of her mouth, and though she tried to resist, her willpower was no match for his heat.
She opened her mouth willingly. Magically. Possessively.
He claimed her with the same potency in which she claimed him. He branded her with his tongue. She branded him right back.
He tasted of lemon cookie and sugar frosting and Gabe. The best dessert.
With one hand on the side of her head and the other on her lower back, he had full control of her proximity. He kept her close. She allowed it. Encouraged it with a purr and a pelvic dance.
The hand holding her lower back drifted down, lifting the back of her coat enough to slide under the elastic band of her scrub pants. He growled into her mouth as he squeezed her butt. His hand scorched her, and the cold air pelting her skin was a relief. If she had come back to him in the summertime, she would have combusted.
“Gabe.” She moaned his name as he bathed her neck with his kisses. She wished again that she hadn’t worn the damned turtleneck so he could access more of her skin, but it was probably better for her sanity that she had a shield.
Can't Lose Me Page 6
