by Gail McHugh
Seeing his girlfriend had no fucking idea they had a visitor, Gavin cleared his throat. He made sure it was loud enough to catch her attention.
Emily snapped her head up and gasped, gripping the towel barely covering her just-showered body. “Shit! I didn’t know he was here.” Both Gavin and Trevor chuckled. Doing an about-face, she darted down the hall, her bare feet slapping against the marble. “Hi, Trevor. Bye, Trevor!” she called out.
Trevor downed the last of his drink and smiled. “Hi, Emily. Bye, Emily.” After placing his glass in the sink, he walked over to Gavin. The two friends shook hands. “You’re a good man, bro. She’s always deserved someone like you. I hope this works out for you both. We’ll have a ton to celebrate, if so.”
Gavin nodded, swallowing back the evil instinct telling him the opposite would more likely be the scenario. After seeing Trevor out, he went to go check on the girl he hoped was carrying his child. He tapped on the bedroom door with his knuckles before tentatively sticking his head in. As he entered the room, he detected Emily’s jasmine perfume drifting through the air. It engulfed him, wrapping around his every male instinct.
But hell if he wasn’t at odds with a battle he never saw coming. When they’d returned home last night from the club, he began ravishing Emily, only to come to a screeching halt once he was inside her. Hovering above her, her panting driving him harder, it’d hit him like a ton of bricks that he could hurt her or the baby. The thought staggered him. In the middle of making love to the woman who owned his heart, he stopped. Cringing, he lied and said he didn’t feel well all of a sudden. He’d felt like a bigger jerk-off when she tried to soothe him to sleep with a comforting massage.
Sitting on the bed slipping on the missing black heels, Emily raised her eyes to his. She smiled, and as always, Gavin wanted to drown in it. Biting his bottom lip, he drank in what was his.
“Hi, you,” she purred. Standing, she moved toward him, her creamy, smooth flesh vibrant under her black, scoop-neck, silk blouse. He inhaled her hips swinging with feminine poise under a knee-length, gray twill skirt. With a seductive gleam flashing in her eyes, she slithered her arms around his neck. “You look edible.”
“Not as edible as you do,” Gavin countered, trying to mentally talk down his growing wood tenting his slacks.
“Well,” she whispered coyly, touching her lips to his ear, “we can enjoy dessert a little early and finish up what we didn’t get to complete last night. If I’m not mistaken, there’s whipped cream in the refrigerator. My makeup’s done. I’ll just pin my hair up and shower again if you’re unable to… lick it all off my body.”
Let the full-on battle begin. Gavin cleared his throat, backing away. He tossed a nervous hand through his hair and pulled open the closet door. “We have to leave soon,” he said in a strained rasp, the lie bitter on his tongue.
Taken slightly aback, considering he was just looking at her as though he was about to pin her to the bed, Emily sighed. Glancing at her watch, her lips turned down in a pout. “We have almost two and a half hours until we have to be there, Gavin. That’s more than enough time. We can skip the whipped cream and get right to it. I need to burn off some of this nervous, edgy energy about tonight.”
Fuck. He’d already played the “let’s see if we can cover every inch of Emily’s body with whipped cream” game with her. That alone was enough to give him blue balls just thinking about it. But an edgy, nervous Emily on top of him working off her stress put being in a strip club surrounded by twenty beautiful, naked women to shame.
Think, motherfucker, think. “My mother called and said dinner’s earlier. We need to leave… now. Get your coat, and I’ll meet you at the door.”
After yanking a pair of Zelli Mario dress shoes from a rack, Gavin shamefully sat on the bed as Emily’s pout deepened. After rolling her beautiful green eyes and crossing her arms over her luscious breasts, she turned on her heels and walked out of the room. Gavin’s chest ached with hollow longing, his heart growing heavier with each passing second. He shoved his feet into his shoes and stood, padding over to the mirror. Adjusting his tie, he stared at his reflection, sick to his stomach.
“You’re an asshole,” he mumbled under his breath. Sighing, he dug the keys from his pocket, hoping the car ride wouldn’t be as awkward as the evening itself.
An hour, and a not-so-awkward drive later, Gavin pulled into the driveway of his childhood oasis. Located just outside the city, the grand, Tudor-style home sat on the shores of Sheldrake Lake in the plush hills of Croton, New York. It was one of the few places Gavin always found reprieve. However, as the rich, crimson glow of the sky started to fade into darkness, Gavin wasn’t sure this evening would bring much peace. As Emily slipped from the car and reached for his hand, Gavin could tell her mood had shifted. His heart sank like a rock as he swallowed her up in his arms, cradling her protectively against his chest. Her body trembled with that all-too-recognizable fear Gavin had unfortunately come to know.
“I swear to you everything’s going to be all right, baby,” he whispered, pressing his lips against the top of her head. The promise came out as easy and instinctive as the love he had for her.
“I hope so,” she answered meekly, tears in her eyes when she looked at him. “It’ll kill me if your relationship with your mother becomes messed up by this.”
“I don’t want you worrying,” he said, tracing figure eights on the small of her back. “Everything’s going to be fine with my mother. My father knows how to work her. Thirty plus years of marriage does that.”
Emily gave a weak nod, wanting to believe him. She pulled in a slow breath and tangled her fingers in his as they began to climb the cobblestone steps up to the front door.
Gavin stopped, able to tell she was still a mess. “Twenty questions.”
“Now?” Emily asked, confusion jumping over her expression.
“Yes now. You need it.” Gavin circled his arms around her waist, pulling her into him. “I’ll make sure you’re not thinking about anything that has to do with my mother by the time I’m done with you.”
Emily shook her head, a light giggle escaping her lips. “Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind you’ll have me thinking about something else. Go ahead. I know you get to go first.”
A slow grin slid across Gavin’s mouth. He already knew the answer to his first question. Emily always had her face buried in one. “Books or movies?”
Emily rolled her eyes. “What do you think?”
“I have no idea.” Gavin shrugged, attempting to play stupid with his sexy bookworm. “That’s why I’m asking.”
“Books,” Emily sighed. “You’re not as observant as I thought.”
Gavin chuckled. “That all depends on what I’m observing.” He held Emily closer, enjoying that she looked somewhat annoyed. He’d definitely taken her mind off the mother situation. “Your turn.”
“Bond or Bourne?”
Gavin’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “As in James or Jason?”
“You’re a quick one.”
“I’m as quick as they come, sweets.” Gavin brushed his lips against hers. “And of course I’m a James Bond man. Remember? My balcony?”
“I have not a clue what you’re talking about,” Emily replied with a furrowed brow.
“It seems you’re not as observant as I thought.” Emily stared at him blankly, and Gavin took the opportunity to dramatically roll his eyes. “The night we first played bottle caps on my balcony. You came out. I scared you. I said, ‘No. It’s Gavin. Gavin Blake.’”
“Oh my God. You’re such a geek,” Emily laughed, hugging him. “James Bond says it the other way around.” Emily deepened her voice, adding a British accent. “‘It’s Bond, James Bond.’”
Gavin frowned. His sexy bookworm was right. “Okay. You win. But it was still double O seven-ish.”
Still maintaining the British accent, Emily said, “Yes, it was. Kind of. Go ahead, Blake, Gavin Blake. It’s your turn.”
Yeah. Emil
y was definitely making him feel like a geek. Smiling, he shook his head. “Granite or marble?”
“Umm… granite.”
“Why did your answer sound like a question?”
“I don’t know.” Emily shrugged. Lately, he had a freakishly odd fascination with those types of questions. She figured he was just excited to get his architect magazines. “I don’t usually sit around thinking about stuff like that.”
Gavin kissed her, and although Emily shivered, he could tell it wasn’t his doing. She was getting cold. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Come on. We’ll go in now.”
She nodded.
Confident he’d taken Emily’s mind off his mother, Gavin turned the handle to find it was locked, so he rang the bell.
With a genuine, warm smile, Gavin’s father opened the door. He shook Gavin’s hand and pulled Emily in for a hug. Flicking his light blue eyes down to his watch, Chad closed the door. “You’re quite early. Your mother’s still at the grocery store picking up a few items for dinner.”
Gavin looked at Emily, the confused expression in her eyes alerting him she was onto him. She stared, scrutinizing his face as she searched for answers he wasn’t ready to give. He brought his attention back to his father, feeling like a fool caught in a web of lies. Clearing his throat, he helped Emily slip off her coat. “When I spoke to her earlier, I could’ve sworn she said five.”
“Nope. Seven fifteen.” Chad reached for Emily and Gavin’s coats and hung them in the foyer closet. “Bad hearing at your age is a sign of working long hours. You and your brother need a break.”
Grinning, Gavin crossed his arms. “Pop, I just got back from a break. I’m cool. Really.”
Chad shrugged, his tone holding nonchalance. “Eh, another can’t hurt. You’re young. Live it up.” Slapping Gavin’s back as he led them into the den, he let out a full, hearty chuckle. “Don’t tell your mother I said that, though.”
Gavin smirked, depositing himself and Emily onto the chenille sofa. “She’d put you on restriction from watching CSI if she knew you were trying to get me to play hooky.”
“She’d do worse than that, but I’d rather not go into details.” Smiling, he clapped once and looked at Emily. “I know you can’t have any liquor, but can I offer you something else? We have raspberry iced tea, water, and a few juices.”
“I’ll take a water, Mr. Blake. Thank you.”
With a loving gleam in his eyes, he smiled. “You’re part of our family now, so I insist on you not calling me Mr. Blake. Pop seems to be the cool name for me among my kids, including my daughter-in-law. You’re no different. Good?”
His acceptance of her and the situation spread warmth through Emily’s chest. In that moment, she understood where Gavin had acquired the charm and charisma he was born with. “Good. I’ll take a water, Pop.” The word felt foreign leaving her lips.
He shot her a wink and started for the kitchen. “Very good. I’m going to get the appetizers started. Son, a cold bottle of Sam Adams?”
“Yeah. That’ll work,” Gavin answered as his father disappeared around the corner. Sliding Emily’s hand over his lap, Gavin pushed her hair away from her neck and leaned into her ear. “You look beautiful.”
Turning to face him, she lifted a slow, suspicious brow. “Oh do I? I wouldn’t have thought so considering you didn’t want to fool around earlier.” She watched him gnaw at his bottom lip, his vibrant blue eyes revealing more than they should. For a second, her heart took a nosedive, her words falling from her mouth faster than she could comprehend. “I scheduled an appointment at a local gym with an instructor who helps pregnant women keep in shape. I won’t gain that much weight.”
Gavin reared back. “You think it has to do with your weight?”
“I’ve gained a few pounds. What else am I supposed to think? You’ve never turned down sex with me, Gavin. My hormones are raging right now, and yours… well, yours are usually no better than a teenage boy. You said you were sick last night, and then before, you just… didn’t want to. Admit you’re turned off.” Emily looked down, her voice trailing. “Oh, and nice try with the whole having to be here early excuse.”
Gavin took her face in his hands, gazing into her worried eyes. “My God, I could never be turned off by you, Emily. It’s taking everything in me to not hike up that skirt, bend your pretty body right over this couch, and plant myself so deep inside you, neither of us would know where the other begins or ends. Sex with you is a drug, and I’m a fucking addict. But hell if you aren’t the sweetest addiction there is to have.”
“Then what is it?” she breathed, trying to shoo away the vision of being bent over the couch. She was about to hike up her skirt and let him. She squeezed her eyes closed. Gavin holding her face so close to his wasn’t helping the hormone situation at all. Not. One. Bit.
Gavin hesitated, his voice low. “I’m… afraid of hurting you and the baby.”
Emily’s eyes flew open. “What? We’ve been having sex for the last couple of weeks. You weren’t worried then.”
“I know. But seeing the baby yesterday on the monitor somehow made it… real.” Sighing, he leaned back. “I’ll wind up hurting you. It’s impossible with the way you and I are during sex. We’re animals.”
Emily hooked her finger under his chin, bringing his gaze back to hers. “First of all, I like when you hurt me,” she whispered, her brow arched. “Second: Do you expect me to believe a man with your education can be so naïve regarding a woman’s body, pregnant or not? Third: You can’t hurt me or the baby. Couples have been having sex for billions of years while women were pregnant.”
Gavin smirked, dragging a hand through his hair. “First: When given permission, of course I like… pleasurably hurting you. Second: Yes, yes you can expect me to be so naïve regarding a woman’s pregnant body. The key word’s pregnant. Third”—he grinned and leaned into her ear—”never in a billion years have couples fucked the way we do. We break records. So with that, yes, I’m afraid of hurting you.”
Body heated, Emily sighed deeply, then moistened her lips. Her tongue was tingling to glide along Gavin’s lower abdomen. “Gavin—”
Before she could say another word, the front door swung open. Juggling three stuffed paper bags, Lillian Blake used her heel to close the door. She shook her head in an attempt to remove big, fat powdery snowflakes from her chestnut hair.
Gavin jumped to his feet, almost tripping over the coffee table as he dashed toward his mother who was about to drop every bag onto the tiled foyer floor. Snatching the bags from her arms, he popped a kiss on her cheek. “Hey, mom. It started snowing?”
Beaming, she swooshed her hand through his hair. “Yes. Pretty heavily, too.” On a sigh, she looked at Gavin, her eyes filled with love only a mother could hold. “My baby boy, I’ve missed ya. Next time you decide to take off on a two week vacation, could you think about calling the woman who brought you into this world?”
Chuckling, Gavin shook his head. “Mom, I’m twenty-eight, I own a thriving business, and my girlfriend’s sitting on the couch. You’re dropping my swoon-worthy factor by the second.”
Emily stood and made her way over to them. Also swishing her hand through his hair, she lifted a playful brow. “Ah, that swoon-worthy statement couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“No?” Gavin questioned incredulously, the gleam in his eyes predatory. “And how so?”
“Because any girl with a head on her shoulders knows a man earns swoon-worthy points by loving his mother,” Lillian answered with a sparkling smile. “Right, Emily?”
“My point exactly,” Emily agreed.
Gavin cocked his head to the side, a smirk twisting his face. “Well if that’s the case, just so you know, Emily, I did ask my dear mother to marry me once.”
“Yes, when he was three,” Lillian trilled, pulling her purse from her shoulder. Placing it on a glass entryway table, she gave Gavin an endearing smile and cupped his cheek. “I remember it like it was yesterday. He won a p
lastic engagement ring from one of those bubblegum machines, and right there in the grocery store, he dropped to one knee and proposed.”
Emily giggled, watching him turn the loveliest shade of crimson.
“Yep. The swoon-worthy factor just dropped a few hundred notches,” he confirmed, flashing an impish, schoolboy grin as he slipped into the kitchen. “I’m out of here, ladies.”
Lillian hooted out a laugh, gathering Emily into her arms for a warm embrace. “So how’ve you been?” She unpeeled a creamy white scarf swathing her neck and dropped it onto the table. After shimmying out of a heavy fur coat and hanging it in the closet, she turned to Emily. “It’s been a while and a lot has happened. I hope you’re doing well.”
Unsure how much she knew about what’d happened with her, Gavin, and Dillon, Emily simply nodded. “I’m doing much better, thank you. How’ve you been?”
“Good. I’ve been busy building up the organization. We’re trying to spread into New Jersey. It looks like it may happen, too,” she said happily, linking her arm through Emily’s. They started for the kitchen. “Let’s go see if our men are attempting to burn down the house.”
Once again feeling a warm, welcome flush through her limbs, Emily noticed just how opposite her and Gavin’s upbringings were. Where she lacked a father figure, Gavin was raised by a strong man who trusted good would prevail over any bad situation. Though Emily’s mother was there as much as possible, Lillian had stayed home with both boys until they entered high school. Sure, Lillian’s situation was different since she’d married an honest, caring man, but even in her darkest hours suffering through her battle with breast cancer, she never stopped trying to achieve a sense of normalcy in their home. Two very different colored lights at opposite sides of life’s spectrum. Now all Emily needed to believe was she and Gavin had been brought together for a reason. Hopefully that reason was what would be the main focus of conversation during dinner.
