Wild Holiday Nights: Holiday RushPlaying GamesAll Night Long
Page 6
Calla lifted up first, crossing her arms over his chest and propping her chin on her fists as she regarded him with sleepy, satisfied eyes.
“You said you have a bathtub that fits two?”
A smile pulled at his lips, desire tugging elsewhere at the spark of heat in her suggestion.
“I do.”
“A good, long, hot soak sounds perfect right now.”
He rubbed his hands over the smooth length of her back, moving down to the curve of her hip to nestle her closer.
“That does sound nice, but this is pretty comfortable,” he responded, nuzzling her cheek.
“We could get pretty comfortable in your bed, too, after we get out of the tub,” she pointed out with a sexy arch of her eyebrow.
“Let’s go,” Gideon agreed enthusiastically, making her smile widely.
Laughing, they made their way to the bath.
“If you want to start the bath, I’ll get glasses and the bottle of wine I picked up the other night.”
“Perfect.”
Gideon found the bottle of expensive Bordeaux out in the front room, still in the bag. He’d actually bought it to send to his sister for Christmas, but he could pick up another bottle later. There was a corkscrew on the small refrigerator near a tiny minibar, and he snagged two of the water glasses left there and returned to the bath. Calla had turned on only one light in the corner, letting the lights from the tub illuminate the rest of the room in softly changing colors.
“You’re kidding me—it lights up, too?” Gideon said, setting down the glasses and joining her.
She grinned like a kid with her favorite toy. “These are amazing. I’ve always said I’d get one, when I can afford a house someday. They have the bubble jets and the heated sides with the chromotherapy lights. Heaven,” she said as she accepted the glass of wine he handed her.
“Chromotherapy?” Gideon settled in, sliding around so that he was sitting next to her. The tub, regardless of its bells and whistles, was very comfortable for two, and the jets felt fantastic.
“You know, like aromatherapy heals with scents, chromotherapy can relax you with use of certain color spectrums.”
“Ah, okay. Like the sunlamp my captain always uses in his office in the winter. He says it helps his mood, so believe me, we’re all for it, since he’s no fun in a bad mood.” Gideon paused. “Well, he’s really no fun anyway, but the light can’t hurt.”
Calla laughed, sipping her wine. “Yeah, something like that. I’ve seen them on TV and in the stores, but I’ve never had the chance to use one before. Now I know I definitely have to have one.”
The way her eyes dimmed a little after she said that told him she was worrying about her business again, and the finances. Gideon didn’t want her worrying about anything tonight. Heck, he didn’t want her thinking about anything but how good he could make her feel.
To prove it, he put his glass on the ledge of the tub and grabbed a puffy sponge that was there instead.
“Move up here, sit between my legs and let me wash your back,” he said, hoping to divert her thoughts.
She did as he asked, settling back against him and sighing more in pleasure than worry as he ran the soap and then the hot water over her skin. It wasn’t long before having even the sponge between his hands and her body was too much interference, and he took her glass, setting it with his. Continuing to wash her, front and back, with only his hands erased everything but the moment for him, as well.
What a lovely moment it was, he thought as she rested her head back on his shoulder, letting him find her mouth.
If only he could make it last.
6
CALLA WALKED QUICKLY amid a swirl of falling snow. She was exhausted—and exhilarated. Gideon had kept her awake long past her usual bedtime, but it had been worth being tired and running late.
It was past seven. She usually got to work around five in the morning, but she didn’t regret it.
No doubt he’d be angry she’d left without waking him, daring to head out into the world alone. It was morning commute time in the city, people everywhere—she had no doubt she’d be perfectly safe. She had left him a note, but let him sleep. There was no need for him to be up this early.
Calla also needed to loosen the connection developing between them. She understood now why Gideon took his responsibility to her brother so seriously, but it couldn’t go on forever—his protection or their affair. Christmas was just one day away. She had to work, and Gideon had to head back to Houston. Who knew when the man who’d mugged her would be caught, if ever. She and Gideon both had to get on with life.
Her heart twisted with a pang of some dull emotion at the thought—regret?
Maybe. If they had time, if things were different...if they lived in the same place, if he’d sought her out on his own, not because he felt he owed her brother, then maybe...but none of that was the case.
Gideon, she’d realized last night, was in a vulnerable place in his life. He’d lost his only parent and he’d come to New York in part to escape his grief. Last night there had been a moment, an unbearably intimate second when she’d seen something in his face, in his eyes, that was so much more than desire.
It had scared her, because something inside of her had responded in kind. But it was only a moment, which was all it ever could be.
She grabbed a second cup of coffee at the café down the street from her shop and was surprised to see a few people already gathered outside.
“Oh, is your beau not here?” one older lady asked.
“I beg your pardon?” Calla asked, momentarily confused.
“My friend Mildred was here yesterday and said you had a romance going on in the shop window. I love romance, and so I had to come down and see, but I work in the afternoons. Millie said he was gorgeous and I wanted to get a peek.”
Calla was dumbfounded and found herself staring mutely into the dozen or so eager faces waiting for her response.
“I think, um, I... No, he’s not here right now.”
They looked so disappointed.
“But I’m happy to work so you can see the cake I’m finishing today, and I might have some samples inside I can bring out to go with your coffees,” she offered.
“Oh, that would be lovely. Thank you. We’ve been admiring the pictures in the window. My granddaughter might get engaged for Christmas, and if she does, I’ll be sure to tell her about you. Maybe one of your cakes could be my gift to her.”
Calla brightened. “That would be lovely. I can make a design appointment at your convenience”
Hurrying inside the bakery, Calla took off her boots and coat and quickly checked her phone to find a number she didn’t recognize, and a message. Not Gideon.
It was Detective Howser. Letting her know her assailant had been caught. Relief had her leaning back against the counter, until he asked her if she could come to the station to identify the man. Calla’s hands turned cold, and she put the phone back in her bag. She could identify the man, and she would, but it made her nervous all the same.
She remembered the people waiting outside and switched gears. Opening the shades and flipping the sign, she turned on the lights and grabbed her remaining samples from the refrigerator. There seemed to be even more people outside waiting now, she noticed with a glance.
She was met with some pleased comments and light applause as she walked out. She smiled and then found herself looking up into Gideon’s tense face.
“Why didn’t you wake me? You shouldn’t be out alone when—”
“Good morning to you, too,” she said, sending him a pointed look before she passed out her samples.
“Oh, he is handsome,” Millie said. “If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll be making your own wedding cake before long.”
Calla forced a smile
and realized the applause she heard must have been for Gideon’s arrival—not for her cake.
Whatever.
She emptied the tray and went back inside, her nerves frayed. The audience outside her window didn’t want to see her work. They wanted a show—a romance, of all things. She didn’t need this right now.
She heard the door close and Gideon’s heavy step cross the floor behind her. She was also intently aware of the onlookers peering inside, and she had to fight the urge to close the shades again. Grabbing a cake from the refrigerator, along with frosting, she started preparing her workspace.
“Calla—”
“They found him.”
The short statement stopped him in his tracks, and she took the moment of pause to study him. He was the handsomest man she’d ever known. It was true eight years ago, and it was still true. Even more so—life had weathered him in exactly the right ways, roughening his expression, adding gravel to his voice, depth to his eyes. Neither one of them moved.
“What?”
“I got a call from the detective. They have the thief in custody, or at least they think they do. I need to go ID him.”
Gideon was quiet, pushing his hands through his crisp, dark hair as he took in what she was saying.
The crowd outside the window seemed to have doubled, she noticed, sliding a glance that way. Momentarily she thought about taking him back to her office where they could talk privately, but who knew what they’d think if she did that.
She smiled and fussed with the cake and her tools as she talked, trying to appear casual and busy.
“So, you know, there’s no reason I couldn’t be out on my own this morning,” she said a bit too brightly, turning away. She left out that she hadn’t known her attacker had been caught until she got to the shop. “And there’s really no more reason for you to hang out here now. I’m fine.”
Gideon’s head snapped up as his eyes narrowed, making her heart leap. He looked angry instead of relieved, pinning her with a look that held her in her tracks.
“What?” Her tone was defiant. Kind of.
“There’s no reason for me to be here? I’d say last night gives me some reason.”
Calla crossed her arms and rubbed her hands over her elbows. “Well, I mean, you stayed because you thought I was in some danger, but now I’m not. So if you want to go, you know, there’s nothing keeping you.”
Before she could say another word, he closed the space between them. His body brushed hers, enough to make her want to press forward and complete the contact, but she didn’t.
“Gideon, everyone is watching,” she said softly, trying to slide away.
He didn’t let her. “I don’t care.”
“Well, I do! This is my business. My life. People used to come here to watch me work. Now they want to come here to see you, and...us. And there is no us! What happens when they find out I’m a fraud?”
His gaze moved to her lips before returning to her eyes.
“Are you saying none of this, nothing between us, was real?”
“No. I mean, it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like? Last night felt pretty darned real to me.”
“Last night was...incredible. But we both knew you’d eventually go back, and I need to focus on the shop. It isn’t that I don’t want more—” She paused. More what? More sex? Or more...more? “—but the timing is wrong.”
“I see,” he said tightly.
“Gideon,” she said more softly. Forgetting about their audience, she raised a hand to his face, but he backed away.
It stung to have him move away from her touch. More than she would have expected.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, all of your help, but I just can’t let this—” she glanced at the window, at the rapt faces looking on “—go any further. I need to think about the image of the shop.”
“When do you have to go?” he asked.
“What?”
“To the police station.”
“I don’t know. Later. I’ll call and find out.”
“I want to be there. I want to know that they got the right guy.”
She hesitated, but nodded. “Okay.”
Something changed in his features, a glint in his eye making her wonder what thoughts were going on behind that handsome face.
“I’ll see you later, Calla,” he said softly, turning to the door.
It wasn’t a goodbye, not a final one, and she was more relieved than she should be.
Calla watched as he left. He stopped when one of the women watching them put a hand on his arm and appeared to be asking him something. He answered, slinging his arm around her and turning away from Calla. Some others joined them.
Would Gideon bad-mouth her? No. She dismissed the idea immediately.
He would never do that, no matter what. She donned her chef’s coat and hat, trying not to watch, but her breath caught as he moved away from the group. Before he disappeared, she caught his eye, her heart stuttering at the slant of his crooked smile.
After that, Calla found it very difficult to focus on her work, indeed.
* * *
GIDEON WAS NERVOUS.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nervous about a woman, but Calla had him on edge. He’d been ready to walk away at the shop, to let her be, as she requested, but a few women in the crowd had offered some kind advice—and encouragement. It reminded him of advice his mom might have offered, had she been here. She would have liked Calla, he imagined. Similarly, she would have told him not to walk away.
He needed a change. Maybe that was the worst time to jump into a relationship, but he felt reenergized by this city and by Calla, too.
Could he love her? This quickly?
He wanted the chance to find out.
At the moment, he stood in the corner of Detective Howser’s office, watching as Calla reviewed suspects on a computer screen. She was calm and collected, but he saw her flinch slightly when they showed the right guy, and she pointed him out.
Gideon felt a rush of relief. At least the jerk would be off the streets now.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Michaels,” Howser said, and winked. “You have a wonderful holiday.”
“I will now, Detective. Thank you so much for all you’ve done. Please let me know if you ever need a cake for a special occasion—you get the friends-and-family discount,” she said with a smile.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Howser said, taking the card and putting it in his pocket.
Calla looked at Gideon for a second, as if she didn’t know quite what to say, and then excused herself. Gideon followed suit, but instead of following her, he went in the other direction.
He had arrangements to make.
Stopping on the snowy sidewalk, he grabbed his cell and dialed.
“Gideon, how’s it going?”
“Good, Nate. Calla just ID’d the guy and he’s toast. Going away for a while, on this and related charges.”
“So she’s good?”
“She’s...amazing.”
Gideon waited a moment, holding his breath.
“I see,” Nate responded, and Gideon didn’t know what to make of it. “So I guess you’re staying longer?”
“Yeah, that’s what I was hoping. If she feels the same way.”
“You don’t know that yet?”
“It’s...complicated.”
“Well, go uncomplicate it, then. And don’t screw it up. That’s my sister, so you’d better treat her right,” Nathan said, this time with a chuckle that made Gideon relax. “And Merry Christmas.”
“You, too, bud. Thanks.”
After calling in an order for a bouquet of Christmas roses, he made his way
back toward Chelsea and Calla’s Cakes, hoping his plan worked. Calla didn’t have time to go out every night, so he was going to bring the date to her and show her that he wasn’t giving up.
7
LATER THAT EVENING, Gideon emerged from his hotel room dressed in a suit and wool coat that he’d paid a month’s salary for. He had to admit, it felt pretty good. He’d never really thought of himself as a suit guy, but the clothing made him feel ready to take on the city. It even changed how he walked down the street. He hoped it impressed Calla. Under his arm, he carried a large box. A gift for her, too.
As he turned the corner down the street from the store, he saw there was a very large crowd in front, and if he wasn’t mistaken, someone with a camera. A video camera. Perfect. He ducked into the florist’s, paid for the roses he’d ordered earlier and tucked the large bouquet under his arm.
The catering truck was also parked down the street; he approached them, letting them know it was go time.
Smiling, he walked up to the crowd. Some of them recognized him before he got to the door.
“Oh, there he is!”
“Don’t give up, Gideon. You two belong together!”
He had to admit it felt odd facing strangers who had such an interest in his love life, but he smiled at them conspiratorially.
“Is everyone ready?”
“Just say when,” a man at the front responded.
Gideon looked up to see Calla staring at him, as if wondering what he was doing. Her eyes took in his coat and suit, widening as she did so.
She’d finished the bell cake, which was what he’d hoped. He knew she had to get it to the restaurant in the morning.
“Wish me luck,” he said to the crowd, and went inside.
“Hi, Calla,” he said, surprised at how nervous he sounded. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “These are for you.”
She looked surprised and absolutely gorgeous. And tired. And incredibly sexy.
“Oh, they’re beautiful, thank you. What are they for?”