‘Yeah, you’ve got to get to work later, right?’ she answered breezily. ‘And I need to do some work in the garden.’
She wanted togardenover spending more time in bed with him? That was a kicker. To his bemusement she walked out of the room. A minute later he sat up, watching out of the window as she took the trail through the tomato plants to the rickety flight of stairs along the garage’s rear wall. He peeled his aching body from the bed. No way was he going to spend the afternoon watching her shaking it in the garden.
He drove to the beach, pushed through the physical exhaustion to run a mile along the shore. The entire time he thought of nothing but her—wanting nothing more than to be snuggled with her and sound asleep. And the doubts started,the worries. He found himself walking instead of running and chewing on his blasted thumbnail. Because now he wanted to know for sure that she really was okay. Maybe she was back at that house feeling all anxious. Maybe her casual goodbye this morning had been all facade—an attempt at sophistication like her hair and her lip gloss and her damn fake chicken fillets. Maybe she was up in that horrendous bedsit of hers bawling her eyes out and about to go scary emo on him.
Oh, hell. Hadn’t he better go make sure she was okay?
EIGHT
Roxie breathed deep and smiled—tokeep her good vibe even. She knew all about laughter therapy—that if you were down, even just putting on a smile lifted your mood up a few notches. Not that she was down, of course. No way could any kind of sadness sink her now—after all, she’d gotten what she’d wanted. The most incredible experience. Now it was finished and that was fine. She wasn’t going to fall for him. No, if anything, what she felt wasgratitude.He’d given everything she’d ever wanted—fun, courtesy, ecstasy. She knew it all now. And sure, she could see why some girls went crazy for the guy who gave that kind of absolute joy. Butshewasn’t going to lose it.
Having said that, it had to be a one-time-only. Once definitely had to be enough. And honestly it was—she was so exhausted she could hardly move. No way could she manage a replay anyway. She stepped out of her hot shower and pulled on a fresh tee shirt. She curled up on her camp bed, pulling her pillow under her cheek, and relaxed as tiredness overwhelmed her. Tiredness and satisfaction—that tiny hint of forlorn determinedly forgotten. She forced herself to focus on upcoming European destinations. But as she drifted to sleep it was him she dwelt on—his smile, his tease, the comfort of his arms.
‘Roxie.’
She moaned and rolled over. Dreaming of him, of the way he’d groaned her name as he’d surged inside her.
‘Roxie!’
Okay, he didn’t usually shout like that—not in her dreams.
‘Open the damn door!’
She pushed her hair back from her face, blinking rapidly to try to bring her brain back from the sensually charged sleep state it had been in the last couple of hours. She stumbled to the door.
‘Is everything okay?’ he asked as soon as she opened it. ‘I’ve been knocking for ages.’
He was wearing shorts and a fitted tee and had clearly been out running. She could hardly drag her eyes up to his face. Her dreams broke their boundaries, sending images—some real memories, some utter fantasies—scrolling through her mind. All involving himwithoutthose shorts.
‘Sure,’ she mumbled. ‘I was sleeping.’
She looked into his face; his eyes were focused on her and a heavy frown had obliterated his earlier satisfied expression.
‘Is there something you wanted?’ Her question trailed off. There was something going on with her body; she could feel it priming again. She breathed in, her senses filled with nothing but him—his height, his scent, the harsh sound from his throat as he’d hit his release. She squeezed her pelvic floor muscles to try to stop the melting sensation. It only made it worse.
‘You were really asleep?’ The dark centers of his eyes swelled.
‘Sure,’ she said, starting to laugh. ‘I was tired—it was a late night.’
‘You’ve really been asleep this whole time?’
‘Well, I had a shower...’ She stepped back as he pushed past her and hunched down by her bar fridge. He drew out the bottle with the V marked on it.
‘Why didn’t you come back here this morning and have a champagne brunch to celebrate your new non-virgin status?’ Now he had the smile on—that rakish one.
‘I was waiting to have it with dinner tonight.’ Truthfully she’d forgotten about it. ‘But maybe I’ll open it now.’
Her mouth was so dry, the drink would help. She held out her hand for it.
‘You know, you don’t deserve it yet.’ He stood and held the bottle out of reach.
‘I’m no longer a virgin, Gabe, as I do believe you know.’ She couldn’t resist the husky reminder.
‘I disagree.’
She gaped at him. ‘Tell me I didn’t dream it.’
‘No,’ he chuckled. ‘But there are so many ways in which you are still a virgin. So you’ve had a little vanilla sex. Missionary style. Shouldn’t you be trying out all the options?’
