Husband for Hire (9 page)

Did they have to?

“Do you want anything from the kitchen?” Gavin asked, heading there.

“I'm still full from dinner,” she said, following him, wondering how he could possibly eat, then saw him take the water pitcher from the refrigerator and pour himself a glass. “Well,” she said. “It looks like we've got a situation.”

“Yes, we do.”

“I'll sleep on the chaise,” she said.
Change my mind, Gavin. Change my mind.

He took a long drink of his water and then set the glass down, looking at it for several seconds before finally answering her, his gaze intense.

“Okay.” Okay?
O-kay?
That was all he had to say on the matter? “I'm going to take a shower,” she said then turned and walked away.

“I'm going to stay out here for a while, in case Eric needs something.”

She almost groaned. She'd forgotten her brother instantly and completely in her desire to sleep with Gavin. They couldn't have sex with her brother right next door. Of course they couldn't. No wonder Gavin had given her such a look. He probably thought she'd lost her mind.

Maybe she had. Maybe all the stress of the past couple of weeks had smashed her common sense, usually so reliable, into smithereens.

Becca took a quick shower, then dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top. She slipped a robe on before she went into the living room to say she was done. As she padded down the hall she realized the lights were out except for a night-light he'd plugged in between the guest room and bathroom, in case Eric got up.

Gavin's thoughtfulness, his foresight, should've stopped surprising her, but it never did. He'd anticipated her needs since the first time he'd come to
her loft. He'd been giving her a lot more than she'd given him in return. In fact, she'd been emotional and frazzled and not at all herself. Yet he'd been unceasingly kind, patient and tolerant. He'd made her relax, sit back, put up her feet. He'd fixed her meals, taken her for walks, made her laugh.

Danced with her.

Lied for her.

She spotted him on her balcony, bathed in moonlight, his arms resting on the rail, looking into the distance. As she approached him he stood and scrubbed his face with both hands. The unguarded moment, seeming to signal frustration, caught her off guard. Had he merely been playing a role for her? Was he exhausted and ready to finish the job?

Had she asked too much of him?

She joined him on the balcony. He turned toward her but didn't touch her.

“I've decided to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“You can't do that. What would Eric think?”

“If he catches me, I'll tell him I wanted to be close by.”

“Like being in the room next door is all that far?” she asked before she could censor herself. She had no right to demand anything of him, and he was presenting a good solution.

Because she ached to touch him, she crossed her arms. “I'm sorry. That was unfair. You've done so much for me. I'm very grateful.”

“Everything I've done was because I wanted
to, Becca. Chose to. But the lie got harder when I met and liked your brothers. I don't know what I expected, based on what you told me. All I know is they're great. All of them. I envy your closeness.”

“You seem close with Shana.”

“We're getting there. Things have always been okay with Dixie, too. But we didn't have that bond that you all have. Your parents must have been something special.”

“I wish I remembered them better,” she whispered, saying out loud what had haunted her for years. “I was thirteen, old enough to have memories, but I can't recall very much. A lot of what I remember is what my brothers talk about, or photographs or the few videos we have.” Tears welled. Her throat burned. “I feel so cheated. I miss my parents so much.”

Gavin's arms came around her, comforting and soothing until she stopped crying.

“If your brothers move here,” he said, “you'll have family close again.”

“I'm not sure that's entirely a good thing.” Of course it was, but not until she'd gotten herself out of the jam she'd gotten into by making up a husband.

“Do you think they're serious? I got the sense Eric was throwing the idea out there to test our reaction, and then the rest of them went along with it.”

“You could be right.” She pushed away, swiped her fingers across her cheeks. “I'm tired.”

“Me, too. I need a shower first.”

“That's fine. Good thing you brought your stuff with you.”

A couple of minutes later Becca was in bed listening to her shower run. She'd left a small lamp on by her bedside, had set a blanket and pillow on the foot of the bed that he could carry into the living room.

She pictured him, water pouring over his body. She wished she could magically transport herself into the shower with him. She would take her time soaping his skin, gliding her hands along him…

The water shut off. Becca fanned herself with her covers, creating a cooling breeze over her overheated body. After a few minutes the bathroom door opened. He wore a T-shirt and maybe sweatpants. It was hard to tell from where she was.

He spotted the blanket and pillow, grabbed them and walked to the door. “Good night, Becca.”

She got to her knees just as he opened the door. “Please don't go,” she whispered.

He stopped, was silhouetted in the doorway.

She got out of bed, came up behind him, put her hands on his back, felt his muscles bunch. “Stay with me.”

Then she waited for what seemed like an eternity for his answer.

G
avin's head filled with reasons why he shouldn't stay, all of them good. Her brother was in the apartment. The job would end tomorrow afternoon, so why muddy the waters now? He still had some healing to do and decisions to make. His home was in San Francisco. So was his work.

Those were short-term reasons. There were some long-term ones, too. The fact that Becca was enmeshed in her own career as cofounder of a thriving business. It wasn't a job she could telecommute from easily, if at all. She worked long hours, as he'd always done. She even was on the road a lot.

Of course, they didn't have to look at the big picture. They
could
just have sex without expectations
of a future relationship, especially since she was never going to marry and eventually he wanted to. He wanted a wife and children. Balance in his life. A future. But he wasn't ready for that yet, either.

“I can hear you thinking,” she said, pressing her lips to his back, giving him chills. “It doesn't need to be so difficult, Gavin.”

He heard her voice quaver, proof it was difficult for her, not just him. And it must have cost her a lot to be the instigator, since whoever made the first move ran the greatest risk for rejection.

He admired her for that, but he couldn't let it get in the way of his decision. Because he hadn't even factored in his biggest concern—nights were the worst for him, when all his doubts shouted in his head. When his visions of a mother and child turned vivid. Becca had only seen him in control. He didn't want her left with a different impression of him, especially now that they were near the end of their time together.

“If all we're going to do is act on our attraction,” he said, shutting the door so they wouldn't be overheard, “then we could just as easily wait until tomorrow, when we're alone.”

“If we wait until tomorrow, you'll find a reason to change your mind. Something logical and sensible.”

She was right. He would do that. Or maybe she would.

But was that a good enough reason to take this
big step now? That was something the old Gavin would've done, not the man he'd been working toward becoming.

He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on his sometimes terrifying nights. “It's not a good idea, Becca.” He left the room, her disappointment palpable. Or maybe it was his disappointment, which was why he felt it so strongly.

Her couch was comfortable, but he still tossed and turned. After a while he heard the guest-room door open and Eric pad next door to the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” Gavin asked when Eric emerged.

“I'm better.” He walked to the sofa. “What're you doing out here?”

“I wanted to be nearby. Just in case.”

“I'm going to survive. I'm sure you'd much rather be sleeping with your wife.” He'd almost phrased it as a question. There was a bit of a lilt to the word
wife,
as if challenging Gavin, not just commenting.

“If you're sure,” Gavin said.

“My stomach has settled down.” Still he waited. Making sure Gavin left? He had no choice but to go to Becca's room. He scooped up the pillow and blanket. “See you in the morning.”

“Right,” Eric said.

Was that humor in his voice? Eric couldn't know the truth, yet he seemed to be getting a kick out of the moment for some reason.

Gavin opened Becca's door quietly. He tiptoed past her bed, heading to the chaise.

“What's going on?” she asked, turning on the small light on her nightstand.

“Eric's feeling better.” He tossed his pillow onto his new temporary bed. “He ordered me to sleep with my wife.”

“That chaise is way too small for you.” She stood. “You take the bed.”

He could've spent the next ten minutes arguing with her, but he knew it would be useless. She would have her way. “Thanks,” he said as they met in the middle.

She didn't say anything, but her eyes met his, and that was all it took. To hell with sleep. He could catch up tomorrow night.

“Stay,” he said, the words coming out low and harsh, or maybe desperate. “Sleep with me.”

“Just sleep?” she asked, laying a hand on his abdomen.

“Eventually.”

“Gavin,” she whispered just before he slipped his arms around her and kissed her.

It was the first kiss they'd shared with the intention of taking it further, so it was…different. Freer, bolder, more daring. Her lips melded with his, her mouth transferred heat and desire. Soft, sexy sounds vibrated along her throat, flattering and arousing. She slipped her hands under his T-shirt, her fingers like fiery tentacles, leaving warmth behind even after
she moved on. She shoved his shirt up his body, over his head, but before she could touch him, he peeled her tank top over her head and hurled it across the room.

“I was so irritated with Shana for interrupting us the other night,” he said, cupping her breasts, circling her nipples with his thumbs, fulfilling the fantasy barely begun days ago and relived every night since as he lay in bed watching the stars.

“I figured you were relieved,” Becca said, her voice hitching when he traded his mouth for his hands.

“I tried to tell myself that.” He nibbled her hard flesh until she groaned. She tasted of lavender soap, sweet and feminine. “How about you?”

“I didn't bother to lie to myself. Oh, don't stop.” She arched her back as he dragged his tongue down her stomach, tugging her pajama bottoms off as he went, exposing her beautiful body to his eyes and hands. Her pajamas pooled at her feet. He ran his fingers down her legs, lifted each foot free, nudged her toward the bed until she came up against it and landed with a bounce.

She hooked her fingers in his sweatpants and lowered them. He took over when she couldn't reach to push them all the way down, then they were naked and totally exposed.
Appreciated.
She was looking up at him, but her hands were busy elsewhere, exploring and teasing.

“The first night you came here,” she said, “I thought you looked like a sculpture of the world's
most perfect male. And that was with your clothes on.” She lowered her gaze, provoking an explosive reaction in him that threatened to end things before they started. “Now I see that
perfect
is too bland a word.”

He grabbed her wrists, moved her hands out of the way, then started returning the favor to her, as slowly and gently as he could, even though he was shaking from holding back. He touched her, tasted her. Savored her.

“I'm on the pill,” she said.

Her words made him hesitate. He never forgot birth control. Never. Until now…

Then he stopped thinking and simply enjoyed, moving her so her feet weren't dangling off the bed, blanketing her body with his. She opened up to him while at the same time pulled him closer, saying his name, broadcasting her need. She rose to capture his lips urgently, desperately. He inched inside her, was welcomed by her tight, wet warmth. She grabbed hold of his hair as she raised and lowered her hips in rhythm with his. He tried to wait for her, but he couldn't. Not one second longer.

Luckily neither could she. He kissed her, muffling their sounds as they hit the peak at the same time, stayed there for an eternity then ever so slowly came back to earth.

Awareness took longer. The most he could manage was to roll onto his side, taking her with him, their legs entwined, their bodies almost adhering. She
tightened her arms when he would've moved back just enough to look at her. He felt her breath, hot and shaky, against his throat. Her shower-fresh fragrance mingled with the scent of sex, a heady combination, one that had him already wanting a second round.

She felt good in his arms. Perfect.

He tried again to pull back. Once again Becca clasped him, not letting him move.

“I'm not going anywhere,” he said.

 

Becca didn't want him to look at her, to see the love she felt, was overwhelmed with, reflected in her eyes. In a few more minutes she could hide it, from herself, too. But right now he would see. Considering how he'd fought making love with her, she knew he didn't feel the same.

And she had no business feeling it at all. It couldn't lead anywhere. There were far too many barriers. He wanted a wife and children….

Somehow she needed to let him know that everything was fine, that she wouldn't demand from him what he couldn't give.

She just didn't know how to go about it. Things like that didn't happen, not to her, anyway.

But she wanted very much to simply enjoy it, especially the way he stroked her hair, then let his hands glide down her back and over her rear then back up again, exploring as he went. Teasing.

“Are you okay?” he asked into her hair, his voice a little obscured.

“I'm quite satisfied, thank you.”

He laughed, which relaxed her enough to angle back and look at him. “How about you?”

“I'll see your
satisfied
and raise you two
gratifieds.
”

“I'm all in,” she said, smiling, glad he was keeping the tone light, as if they'd just played a hand of poker.

“That's my line.” He ran a finger across her lips. “I was definitely all in.”

“Yes, you were. A perfect fit, too.” She dragged a hand down his chest, his stomach, his abdomen, then beyond. “Not much recovery time for you.”

He shook his head slowly, a knowing smile on his face, one that made her feel sexy enough to take charge. She shoved him onto his back then straddled him, enjoying the admiration in his eyes. With his help, she took him inside her.

“All in,” she murmured, closing her eyes and letting herself just feel him. Suddenly he jackknifed up and his mouth was on her breast. She wrapped her legs around his back, her arms around his head and held him there, lost in the pleasure. “I'd guessed you'd be like this,” she said, her words raspy.

“Like what?”

“Adventurous.”

He lifted his head. “You must have led a sheltered life.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Hardly.”

Amazingly she hadn't felt a moment's shyness around him, or worry that she might say or do something he wouldn't like. She'd felt an instant openness with him that was thrilling but also comfortable. The fact she could feel both at the same time came as a surprise, as did her quick, spiraling arousal in the position they were in. Caught off guard by her swift ascent to climax, she gasped. Then when he slid a hand between their bodies, intensifying her reaction, she groaned.

“Shh,” Gavin said, covering her mouth with his, aware that they weren't alone in the quiet loft.

“Sorry,” she panted, “but—”

“I know. Go with it. Just go quietly.” He devoured her mouth as she peaked, a powerful reaction that sped up his own electrifying response, even better than the first time. Longer, more powerful. More satisfying.

She went limp, her arms draped over his shoulders, her face pressed into his neck. He wanted to tell her what it meant to him, how he hadn't felt this alive in so long. So very long. But either she'd fallen asleep against him or she was too relaxed and content to talk. She made sleepy sounds of satisfaction, but that seemed all she was capable of. He understood that.

Gavin maneuvered her onto her side and tucked himself behind her.

“Mmm,” she murmured, wriggling closer. “That was really, really nice.”

He laughed softly at the understatement. “I agree.”

“If I wake you in the middle of the night for another go-round, would that be okay?” she asked, sounding sleepier and sleepier.

The mere idea of it gave him something to look forward to. “I might be able to squeeze you in.”

Her laugh faded into slow, even breaths. She was out.

A few hours later, true to her word, she began caressing him as he pretended to be asleep. He didn't pretend for long. He didn't want to waste any time. After all, their idyll couldn't last. In a few hours they would face her brothers again.

They would've had time to do a little background check on him—at least,
he
would, if it were his sister.

Or Becca might decide to come clean with them.

Anything could happen.

Anticipation surged through him. It wasn't the way he'd figured he would return to the land of the living, but he'd take what he could get.