Ivy nodded.
Faith stood and came to the kitchen. Gil backed up, and then he kept backing up until she cornered him against his pantry door. “What did you do?” The words were low and hissed and might have been scary if he hadn’t known her well enough to see the humor in her eyes.
“None of your business.” He mouthed the words.
Her eyes flared and she leaned closer. “Whatever it was, don’t let her push you away. She’s scared, and the timing is terrible.” She pointed toward the living room. “But she has it bad for you, and if you don’t make sure she knows—tonight—that you have it worse for her, you might lose your chance.”
“I’m trying, and I was doing a pretty good job of it until you showed up and interrupted me.”
Faith waggled her eyebrows at him. “Then I suggest you make sure you finish the job before she goes to bed. She’s brilliant, butshe’s also a woman on the brink, and she’s hitting her breaking point. You need to be the one to catch her, not shove her over the edge.”
With that, Faith stomped out of the kitchen. He followed her. Tessa gave him a fierce look, and Ivy didn’t look at him at all.
Gil had no idea how it was that he’d done exactly what Faith had wanted him to do, and apparently what Ivy had wanted him to do, and probably what Tessa had wanted him to do, but he was in trouble with all of them now. How did that make any sense?
30
IVY HUGGED FAITH AND TESSA, then stood back from the door as Gil watched them climb into Faith’s car. He closed the door, reset the security system, and turned to her.
When she’d run from him earlier this evening, she’d closed the door of the bedroom and leaned against it until her heart rate settled. What she’d wanted to do was jump up and down and squeal. Alternately, she was considering jumping out a window and accepting her fate, because there was no way she could face him again.
She’d kissed Gil. And unless her brain was playing tricks on her, he’d been about to kiss her when Tessa and Faith showed up. It had taken her a few minutes to pull herself together and return to the living room. She’d sensed him watching her, and she knew he wasn’t happy about the way she’d escaped his arms and fled.
Why had she bolted? What must he be thinking?
Gil walked past her and into the kitchen and pulled the pie plate out of the refrigerator. “I’m going to have another slice of pie. Care for one?”
His voice was casual and easy. That’s how this was going togo? He was going to pretend it hadn’t happened and everything was back to normal?
“No. Thank you. It was delicious, but one slice is plenty for me.”
He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t push her to have pie, to go to bed, to come over and kiss him. Nothing.
“It’s been a long day. I think I’ll get ready for bed.”
He settled his piece on a small plate and turned his back to her as he returned the pie to the fridge. “Let me know if you need anything.”
His head was still in the fridge. Now he was rearranging some dishes. “Thanks, Gil.”
“Anything.” The word was a whisper, but she’d heard it.
She didn’t respond. Fifteen minutes later, she’d changed into the comfy pajamas Faith and Tessa had brought, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and given up on falling asleep. Gil had insisted she take his bedroom again since it had its own bathroom. He was sleeping in what he referred to as Emily’s room and using the hall bathroom.
She paced the room. She should go out and talk to him. Tell him she was interested in him, romantically. That she’d always been interested romantically, but she was also terrified. What they had, their friendship, was precious to her. What if they messed it up? She didn’t know if she could bear to lose him again.
But could she bear to be around him with this—whatever this was—between them?
No.
She couldn’t.
She was going to talk to him. They were intelligent adults with years of history and a future that included each other in some form or fashion. They had to clear the air. She took a deep breath,marched to the door, and before she could talk herself out of it, yanked it open.
Gil stood two feet away, his expression one she’d never seen but knew she would never forget. She couldn’t stop her forward momentum, or maybe she could have, but Gil reached for her and pulled her close. Either way, she’d barely processed that her body had slammed into his when his lips found hers.
She didn’t lose track of where she was. Her brain didn’t disconnect. Instead, she was hyperaware of every sensation. The softness of his lips, the way his arms had wrapped around her and how he was being careful not to bump her right shoulder, the sense that this was where she was meant to be—and she never wanted it to end.
What she did lose track of was time. It could have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes when Gil broke the kiss. He didn’t release her but slid his face until his lips brushed her ear. “You had two more minutes, and then I was knocking. Or maybe breaking the door down. I’m not sure.”
