He patted where his pockets would be if he was wearing jeans, but he’d thrown on a pair of gray sweatpants and a T-shirt after his shower. “Damn. Left it in my other pants.”
In his peripheral vision, he noticed Boomer was wandering off to sniff around the floor, but most of his attention was on Gwen. Somehow the gap had closed between them—as if they simply gravitated toward each other—and she was close enough to touch now.
And he did. Rather than reach out and grab her and pull her close, despite feeling a strong urge to do just that, he trailed his fingertips down her arm. It gave her plenty of opportunity to back away, but she didn’t. When his fingers reached her wrist, he circled it and gave a gentle tug.
She let him pull her close enough to kiss, her head tipping back as her gaze locked onto his mouth. He released her wrist in anticipation of having both hands free to roam her body as he kissed her senseless. “I told myself I wasn’t going to kiss you again.”
“I’m glad you don’t write nonfiction, then,” he said, and she rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a smile. “But I’m not sure I want to kiss you after you implied my stripping talents were subpar.”
“In my defense, I could only see you from the waist up. There may have been some hip action I missed.”
He laughed despite his cheeks suddenly feeling hot. “There was no hip action.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Well, if you don’t want to kiss me, I’ll just go inside and—”
She turned as though to walk away, and he panicked. His hand shot out and circled her wrist again, tugging her back to him. But in his desire to keep her there, he tugged a little harder than he intended to, pulling her up so hard against his body that he had to take a step back to brace himself against the impact.
Gwen laughed that laugh he loved so much, and her eyes were crinkled in amusement as she tipped her head back.
His breath caught in his throat. This was the picture of Gwen he wanted branded into his memory forever—the Gwen he liked to think nobody else got to see. With her hair tousled and her eyes sparkling with humor. The rosy flush over her cheeks at whatever she saw in his eyes when their gazes locked. Her lips parting slightly as she anticipated his mouth lowering to hers.
This washisGwen.
A sudden fear that she would see in his eyes what he was feeling spurred him to close the distance—his eyes closing as his lips met hers.
Her body melted against his, and he ran his hands up her hips and her back before he wrapped his arms around her. One of her hands gripped his shoulder and the other slid up his chest to cup his jaw, and he had to bite back a moan as he deepened the kiss.
Gwen returned his kiss with a passion that made his blood heat, and he slid one hand under the hem of her shirt so he could feel the hot, smooth flesh of her back. He stroked her skin, slowly working his way up until his fingertips hit the strap of her bra.
The thought of undoing that clasp and sliding his hand under the fabric to cup her breast made his entire body quiver with anticipation, and he caught her lower lip between his teeth for a moment before sliding his tongue over the same spot.
Before he could attempt to undo the clasp one-handed, though, Gwen braced her hands against his shoulders and gently pushed against them.
He obliged, taking a step back, as they both tried to catch their breath. Her eyes reflected the same heat that was currently burning him up, but common sense returned along with his ability to breathe, and he admitted to himself that the dirty cement floor of a half-done tavern was not the place to make his nocturnal dreams of Gwen come true.
“This is not...” She paused, then waved her hand in a way that encompassed the carriage house. And she was back to looking anywhere but at him. “This isn’t a good idea.”
He wasn’t sure exactly what she meant was a bad idea—kissing him where anybody could walk in on them, kissing him in a carriage house deep in the throes of renovation, or just kissing him at all. He really hoped it wasn’t the latter. “I know I want to keep kissing you, Gwen, and I’m pretty sure you want to keep being kissed.”
“No!” she exclaimed, and his stomach dropped. That was a pretty emphaticno. “What’s in Boomer’s mouth?”
Case would have been more relieved that her shoutednohad been for the dog and not him, but concern for Boomer trumped everything and he gave the command on instinct. “Drop it.”
Boomer tilted his head, staring at him.Drop what?
“Please tell me he didn’t eat Jack’s earbud,” Gwen said with a sigh.
“I don’t know. Maybe we could have Jack play his music and see if Boomer’s stomach sings to us.” He was walking toward his dog as he said it, and she didn’t respond, so he didn’t know if she’d found the suggestion amusing ornot funnyat all.
Boomer reluctantly let Case unlock his jaws, but there was nothing in his mouth. When he looked around the floor, though, he noticed that the dog was refusing to move and was avoiding eye contact as if the most interesting thing Boomer had ever seen was on the wall to their right.
After nudging the dog’s butt until he had to shift his weight or fall over, Case pulled out the small plastic bag containing a few kernels of popcorn that Boomer had been trying to hide from him by sitting on it. “Popcorn.”
The relief was evident on Gwen’s face. “I guess Eli’s been out here, too, since that kid never goes anywhere without a bag of popcorn. I’m so glad it wasn’t Jack’s earbud. I wouldn’t put it past Mallory to make one of us watch Boomer at all times until he...gave the earbud back, so to speak.”
“You could have volunteered,” he said, and then he winced. “I mean, not so much for monitoring the return of the earbud, but for being with Boomer 24/7.”
“As delightful as he is, why would I volunteer to spend 24/7 with your dog?”
