Last Call (15 page)

“I can't believe a lack of courage has ever
kept you from doing anything. You're a remarkable woman, Sunny.”
Before she could respond, he wrapped his hand around the back of
her neck and dipped his head. With his lips against hers he added,
“A sexy, beautiful, amazingly remarkable woman.”

Sunny pushed the kitchen door open, slowly
stepped inside, then glanced around the corner.

Gavin bit his lip to keep from laughing when
he realized she was holding her breath and practically tiptoeing
across the kitchen. She oh-so-carefully set the blanket on the
counter, then soundlessly dipped into her jar for a grape Dum-Dum.
When she turned around and saw the big, stupid grin spread over his
face, she frowned and whispered, “What?”

His grin grew wider.

Meaningless relationships had burned Gavin
out on dating long ago. On the rare occasion he did go out, it was
usually with someone he met through work. Aggressive, assertive,
out-to-prove-something-to-the-world women with huge chips firmly
settled on their shoulders.

He bet Sunny was stronger than all of them
put together. Yet here she was, shifting from foot to foot, afraid
her younger brother would find out she had sex. “You're absolutely
adorable. Especially when you're nervous.”

She squared her shoulders and lifted her
chin. “I’m not nervous.”

He set the picnic basket on the kitchen
table, then stepped in front of her. When he rested his hands on
either side of her, boxing her in, she sucked in a breath and
stiffened. Leaning over, he whispered in her ear, “Yes, you are.
You're afraid you've been caught doing the nasty in the middle of
the day.”

From the corner of his eye, he watched the
sucker stick jerk as she worked the candy around in her mouth. Her
cheeks drew in as she gave a long pull on the Dum-Dum, and his body
tensed in response. If she sucked on him like those damned suckers,
the fun would be over before it even began.

“I'm almost thirty years old. I can do
whatever I want, whenever I want, with whomever I—” She jerked back
and cocked her head, listening. Gavin made out the sound of
footsteps on the stairs at the same time Sunny pressed her hands
against his chest and pushed him away from her.

He stepped away, laughing. “You want to tell
me that again?”

The door opened and Robby stepped into the
kitchen. His gaze landed on Gavin, then traveled to Sunny. He
crossed his arms over his chest, trying to assume a tough-guy
stance. “I thought you’d been kidnapped.”

“We were on the beach,” Sunny said, nervously
glancing from Robby to Gavin and back again. She waved her hand
between them. “Robby, this is Gavin McLeod. Gavin, this is Robby.
My brother.”

While they shook hands, Robby sized Gavin up.
Again. He did some of this last night, and again on the steps, but
Gavin understood Robby’s need to do it over and over until he was
comfortable with the situation. Gavin was in their personal space,
and he needed to let Robby do his protective-brother thing.

After a moment, Robby said, “I noticed the
pile of clothes in the chair in Sunny's room. I'm glad to see
you're not naked.”

Gavin glanced at Sunny's pale face. He could
read her thoughts. If Robby discovered the clothes in her room, he
saw the condoms. She might have been able to fudge around the truth
before, but not now.

Gavin smiled and winked at Sunny as he took a
step closer to her. He didn’t know what would happen between the
two of them, but he wanted her to know he was
with her
in
this.

The big question remained: Would he be
with her
in the fight against Max?

Pushing the unpleasant thought aside, he
said, “She thought these would be more appropriate beach attire.”
He glanced back to Robby. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Robby relaxed his stance and dropped his
hands to his side, the moment of examination and challenge over.
Apparently, Gavin passed the test. This time. “No problem.” Robby
leaned against the doorframe and switched his attention to Sunny.
“I've got some things to do downstairs. I'll be in the bar if you
need me.”

Sunny blew out the breath she probably hadn’t
even been aware of holding, and frowned. “What are you working
on?”

“I need to figure out what's causing the
kitchen sink to leak.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Robby and Sunny turned to Gavin with
identical, incredulous expressions that broadcast their thoughts
loud and clear.
How could you possibly help?

On top of the discussion with Sunny about not
looking like a guy raised on a farm, their attitudes chapped his
ass. “Don’t let appearances fool you. I’m more useful than I
look.”

Sunny narrowed her eyes. “I need to talk to
Gavin for a second.” She cast a glance at Robby. “Alone.”

“Sure.” He stopped with his hand on the door
handle and swiveled his head toward Sunny. “Make sure you keep both
feet on the floor. And he’s not to be in your bedroom without me in
here.”

Sunny crossed her arms and glared at the
closing door.

Gavin laughed. “Let me guess where he's heard
that before.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, pinning him
with an intense stare.

He thought she would relax in direct
proportion to Robby easing off, but something had gone off kilter.
She was tenser now, and he was confused. “I was teasing you.”

“I mean, why are you being nice and offering
to help Robby? Do you think you can get close to him, talk him into
selling, then use him to convince me?”

The air left Gavin's lungs in a whoosh, and
he stumbled backward as if she'd physically punched him. “What? No,
I would never…”

The thought died a painful death as another,
truer thought rushed in.
Bullshit. That’s
exactly
what you’d do.

That realization stung more than Sunny’s
words because, yeah, in any other situation, that would have been
his MO.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and turned
to the window. Watching the waves roll onshore, he felt like a tiny
seashell, tossed and turned and swept away in the current of the
vast ocean. “No,” he said, barely loud enough for her to hear.
“That’s not what I was doing. I honestly just wanted to help. It’s
obvious he doesn’t like me, or at least, isn’t happy with me being
here. I thought it might help if he got to know me better.”

“Why?”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Why
what?”

“What difference does it make if he likes
you? Your business is finished. I assumed you’d be leaving.”

Jesus, she swung a verbal switchblade with
alarming accuracy. He didn’t think it was intentional; she simply
spoke the truth as she saw it. But intentional or not, her stabs
hurt like a bitch.

He sat on the seat under the kitchen window,
rested his forearms on his knees, and looked up at her through his
lashes. “I’m not sure what I’m doing. I enjoy being with you, and I
guess I’m not in a hurry to leave. This is a complicated situation,
and I’m only making it more complex, but… there you go. The honest
truth.”

Slumped against the counter, arms crossed
over her chest, she opened her mouth, then closed it. Anger,
frustration, and what appeared to be sadness crossed her face
before her expression settled on wary. “Is this like the saying,
‘keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?’”

“What?” He waited, hoping she was kidding.
But neither her expression nor demeanor changed, and he realized
she was serious. “We’re not enemies, Sunny.”

“Yeah, we kind of are. You still want my
land. I’m not selling. We’re definitely not teammates.”

He stood and went to her. Sweeping a lock of
hair away from her face, he said, “We have…” He averted his gaze
and took a deep breath. “
Had
different goals. I’m not sure
what I’m doing at this point. But that doesn’t mean we’re enemies.”
He couldn’t think of anyone he considered an enemy, but if he did
have any, he knew with absolute certainty he’d never rolled around
naked with them.

He turned away from her and paced the kitchen
floor. “There has to be a way to work this out. I just have to
figure out what it is.”

The first step would be calling Max to report
in, but he didn’t know what to say. Gavin couldn’t grab hold of a
thought long enough to figure out what needed done, let alone
devise a plan. He was flailing without direction, but that needed
to change ASAP. Max would be expecting a report, and Gavin needed
to give him one.

Christ, that conversation was going to be as
much fun as running his nuts through a grinder.

***

Hours and hours of shopping left Callie
famished.

And with a nervous twitch in her right
eye.

For the most part, she stuck with her plan to
plunge necklines and raise hemlines. She even bought what she
considered to be a few obscenely short skirts—although the idea of
wearing any of them in public caused cold sweats and severe
dizziness.

The low-cut, ruby red Valentino she got for
tomorrow night’s retirement party was a whole lot racier than
anything she normally wore, but she was excited about it and
couldn’t wait to see Gavin’s reaction. If his jaw didn’t come
unhinged and a small amount of drool didn’t escape the corner of
his mouth, she’d be terribly disappointed.

Her big failure of the day was at
Benedetti’s.

She’d been on board with getting one of those
ridiculous nipple necklaces… until she went into the dressing room
with Jen and saw how the clips attached by twisting around her
nipples.
Owww.
She’d grown feathers and had the urge to peck
at the ground and lost all desire to buy something resembling a
medieval torture device.

Jen, of course, did not chicken out.

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Jen said, with
glassy eyes and a dreamy smile. “In fact, it feels really good.”
She left the dressing room, went back to the display case, and
picked out three different styles.

Despite Callie’s begging and attempts at
bribery—and she spared nothing on either count—Jen insisted on
wearing one to lunch. If they’d gone back to Callie’s, it wouldn’t
have been a big deal. But they weren’t at Callie’s.

The three of them were at the Seaside Pines
Country Club, where their parents were long-time members. Callie
would expire on the spot if they saw someone they knew. Just
thinking of seeing a familiar face made her stomach turn, and she
wasn’t even wearing the damned thing.

“Why are you so nervous?” Jen asked as they
waited for the host to return to his station.

Callie, who’d been holding her breath while
checking out the dining room to make sure the coast was clear,
jumped. “I’m not.” Okay, that was ridiculous; obviously she was.
“It’s that necklace,” she hissed. “What if we run into someone we
know?”

“What if we do? Look…” Jen pulled the edges
of her jacket aside to reveal her sweater and, in Jen’s opinion,
the lack of evidence. “Even if I wasn’t wearing a jacket, you
wouldn’t be able to tell it’s there.”

Callie slapped Jen’s hands away, then
smoothed the lapels back into place.

“That’s why I say you’re a prude,” Jen
whispered harshly. “You’re not even wearing it, and you’re freaked
out.”

“Good afternoon, ladies. I’m sorry you had to
wait.” At the sound of the deep-voiced greeting, Callie jumped
again.

Her heart tripped, just a little, when she
saw
him—
the dining room host with the dark chocolate eyes
and legendary, high-wattage smile. And he was smiling directly at
her.

She’d only met Jason once, a few weeks
earlier while dining with her parents, but she overheard women in
restrooms, on tennis courts, and at social gatherings talking about
that smile. Women of all ages and marital status swooned when he
flashed it. Held spellbound by it now, she understood the fuss.

Never one to miss a chance at flirting with a
hot guy, Jen smiled coquettishly and said, “We need a table for
three.” She widened her blue eyes and batted her eyelashes. “Unless
you can join us. In that case, we need a table for four.”

Jason’s laugh was easy and natural and…
unbelievable
… his smile grew even brighter. “I wish I
could.” His gaze shifted between the three of them before settling
back on Callie. “Unfortunately, I’ve just started working and won’t
get off for another eight hours. That would be a long wait.”

“I’d wait six months,” Tiffany muttered under
her breath.

Callie was too caught up in his mouth to say
anything intelligible, but Jen’s extensive experience kept her from
missing a beat. “Maybe we’ll come back for drinks this
evening.”

He laughed politely but didn’t comment.
Grabbing three of the daily menus, he said, “Follow me.”

Anywhere.

The thought came from nowhere and sent a wave
of guilt through Callie. How could she be breathless over Jason
when she was head-over-heels for Gavin? Shouldn’t she be blind to
all other men?

Jason stopped at a table overlooking the
fifth green of the world-class golf course. “Is this table
suitable?” The question was directed toward all three of them, but
his dark chocolate eyes were on Callie.

That
was what she wanted from Gavin.
She wanted his full attention directed at her like she was the only
one standing in front of him. For him to ask her a question—even if
it was something as simple as a table choice—and for her answer to
matter.

The way he interacted with the
bartender.

The mental jabbering made her head spin, so
she slapped a lid on it by wondering if Jason would be working
tomorrow night. How would he react to the little red dress? How
might Gavin respond to some competition? Maybe a good dose of
jealousy would get Gavin moving in the right direction… Toward
her.