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In an instant, his eyes turned a smoky blue. It was a new look for him, one she’d never seen before. Maybe the smoke was her special look. She hoped it was about her, that he was thinking about how good she felt, how lovely she smelled, how sexy it was to have his arms around her, their bodies pressed tightly together. Because those were all the things she was feeling.
She wound her arms around his neck, holding him closer, letting him feel everything she thought, everything she wanted, everything she needed to give him.
Naturally, that was when the song ended.
Gideon stopped so fast, she almost tripped. Then he flew from the dance floor like a jet plane taking off into the wild blue yonder, leaving her standing alone in the middle of all the dancers, her arms raised as if they were still around him.
A beat later, the boys rushed her, squealing and laughing, but she could still feel the imprint of Gideon’s body against hers, could still smell his aftershave, could still feel his muscles under her fingertips.
And she knew she would wake up in the night longing to feel every moment with him all over again.
Chapter Seven
Gideon was still recovering from the world-rocking shock of having Rosie in his arms—and the shock of her saying how much she enjoyed dancing with him—when it dawned on him that she would be seated next to him at dinner.
Matt, Ari, Noah, Bob, and Susan were seated at the head table, which was decked out with three Lego robots and a trimming of flowers. Jorge, of course, begged to sit with Noah, so they pulled up an extra chair for him. And somehow, whether by design or coincidence or divine intervention, Rosie was now mere inches away from Gideon. Again.
After their dance, he simply couldn’t breathe. Not without smelling her sweet, luscious scent. It was enough to bring him to his knees…or worse, to tempt him to kiss her the way he’d wanted to for so damned long.
Thankfully, Rosie seemed oblivious to his careening thoughts as she pointed to the abundance of forks in front of them. “If I hadn’t waitressed when I was in school, I’d have no idea which one of these to use for what.” It didn’t matter what she said—her voice was like music, like stardust falling on him. “It always seemed like a crazy waste of dishwashing when people were perfectly happy to use one fork for everything.”
He was saved from a response by Bob Spencer, who stood to give the welcome speech. In his mid-fifties, Bob had lost most of his hair, but he was fit. During his working years, he’d been a baggage handler at O’Hare International Airport, and despite injuring his back, he still had the muscles he’d earned lifting heavy luggage day in and day out.
The Mavericks had seen to it that Susan and Bob had a good life now, trying to pay the Spencers back for all they’d done, even though it was obvious that Susan and Bob had no need for payback. They were good people. The kind of people Gideon wished he and his mother could have been for Ari all those years ago.
“Friends, robots, countrymen,” Bob began, and everyone laughed at his play on Shakespeare. “Thank you for coming to celebrate the marriage of our son Matt to Ariana, whom we already consider to be our daughter.”
Gideon not only appreciated that Susan and Bob had welcomed Ari with open hearts and arms, but also that Bob referred to Matt as his son, rather than as his foster kid or his adopted son. It had been the same in that hot desert terrain—bonds were made in the sandbox, made by the tears no one ever shed, made by the blood spilled to save your buddies, not simply by the blood running through a man’s veins.
“I had a whole bunch of really bad jokes I was going to tell, but my lovely wife—” Bob winked at Susan. “—told me to keep it short and sweet. I promised I’d do my best.” He grinned at the crowd. “Though my sons and daughter would be happy to tell you that short and sweet has never been in their dad’s wheelhouse.”
“Isn’t he wonderful?” Rosie leaned in close to whisper…and Gideon barely managed to keep from pulling her straight into his arms.
How the heck was he going to make it through this meal without giving in to his baser urges?
“We couldn’t have been more fortunate than the day Ari agreed to be Noah’s nanny,” Bob continued. “Not only did she give Noah all the love in the world, she also loved our Matt with her whole heart. Just as we love her with all of ours.”
Ari was wiping the tears from her eyes as Bob held out his arms and said, “Come here, my precious girl, give me a hug.” Ari stood to throw herself into his arms, exchanging words the microphone didn’t pick up.
With his arm still around Ari, Bob picked up his glass. “I would like to toast this fabulous new family. Susan and I couldn’t be happier. To love everlasting.”
Everyone raised their glasses, echoing, “To love everlasting!”
Gideon turned to Paige on his right, who clinked with her water glass. Then Rosie held her glass up to his, and as the crystal chimed, she smiled. “That was the perfect toast, wasn’t it?”
“Perfect,” he agreed. But he wasn’t merely talking about the toast, he was talking about her. Rosie was perfectly beautiful, perfectly sweet, perfectly kind and compassionate.
Only the waitress, who leaned between them to whisk away the salad plates and replace them with their entrees, stopped him from pulling Rosie close to taste the champagne on her lips.
He got the steak, Rosie got the salmon. She gave a soft moan of pleasure at her first bite. “You’ve got to taste this.” She held out a forkful of salmon.
She couldn’t possibly know how much restraint it took not to gobble her up when she was so near, when she smelled so good, when he was sure she would taste so much better. If she knew how she affected him, if she knew how little willpower he had, she’d be running a mile a minute to get away. And she surely wouldn’t be so generous with her affection, the same affection she gave to her closest friends.
Steeling himself, he leaned close, shut his eyes, breathed her in, and let her feed him the bite of salmon. He savored it as he would savor her, if he could.
“Good?” she asked.
“Good.” He was afraid his voice would crack if he said more than one word.
