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“You heard my story, so you know I can’t make judgments.” Not that he would have anyway. Rosie was the world’s best mom to Jorge and the world’s best friend to Ari. Nothing in her past could change that. “I’m glad you’re staying, Rosie.”
It was the most he’d ever allowed himself to say about his feelings for her. Considering everything they’d shared tonight, shutting down again no longer seemed the only—or the best—option. Actually, it was kind of impossible now. They’d come too far.
“I am too,” she said. “Thank you for everything.”
She stunned the hell out of him by going up on her toes and kissing him, her mouth pressing against his.
Then her lips were gone, she was on her own two feet again…
And his heart was full to bursting.
He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. But it hadn’t been that kind of kiss. It had been something better, something more important. Sweet and rich with gratitude and friendship.
And trust.
He backed out of the room, waving his hand stupidly. “Good night.” He closed the door. Ten seconds later, he had to knock again. “Sorry. I need to get some sweats to sleep in.” He also grabbed his toothbrush, his shaving kit, and a T-shirt.
She was smiling when he closed the door behind him again.
“She must think I’m an idiot,” he muttered as he grabbed his laptop, unable to stop reliving the moment her lips had touched his.
No one would ever be as enticing to him as Rosie. He’d known it almost from the first time he set eyes on her. And now that he knew how it felt to kiss her, even if the kiss was barely more than a breath of air over his lips, he couldn’t imagine ever feeling for anyone else what he felt for her.
He wanted to slay her dragons, but to do that he needed to find out more about Archibald Findley. He’d make sure Findley didn’t dare to even try taking Jorge from Rosie.
He was typing Archibald Findley Impressions Gallery Las Vegas when it hit him why Rosie painted only for herself: She was afraid Jorge’s father would find her if she put her artwork out there.
All the more determined to help her, Gideon silently vowed to do whatever it took to make sure Jorge and Rosie were safe.
* * *
Gideon had been floored when she’d kissed him, his eyes dazed for long moments afterward.
Truthfully, Rosie had surprised herself. She hadn’t planned the kiss—but she hadn’t been able to ignore her instincts either. Not anymore. Not after everything they’d shared today, from his humorous memories about life in the army, to his heartrending story about the death of his comrades, to her complicated confession about her mistakes with Archie.
What would he have done if she’d asked him to share the bed with her? She had been so tempted, when her lips were on his and his muscles were hard and enticing beneath her fingertips. She’d ached for it.
But she hadn’t acted on it. Gideon wasn’t ready for that. And in all honesty, neither was she.
For Gideon’s part, he’d only just begun to trust her. It meant so much to her that he did, but she couldn’t make the mistake of moving too fast with their bodies while their hearts still needed to catch up. Especially when he wasn’t the only one wrestling with his choices from the past.
Since learning she was pregnant with Jorge seven years ago, Rosie had steered clear of dating. After all, she’d made a truly crap decision in letting herself fall for Jorge’s father, and with a son to raise, she couldn’t afford to trust another man unless she truly knew him and his intentions. Gideon was different. Despite his silences and stony expressions, he’d interested her fro
m the start. With all the glowing things Ari said about her brother, with every moment Rosie had watched him with her kid, with Noah, she’d learned to see past Gideon’s walls to the man he really was.
A good man. An honorable man. A caring, loyal man.
Even if he no longer seemed to believe those things himself.
Post-kiss, with her lips and her body still tingling, she wasn’t tired. With her iPad in her lap, she knew exactly what she had to do for Gideon: find more info on the painting. Over the years, she’d learned a lot about Miguel Fernando Correa, since she and Jorge both loved the painting in the Legion of Honor museum. Tonight she would research Gideon’s painting specifically, since it was so different from Correa’s other work.
Fortunately, one of her electives in college had been art research—what resources to mine, what clues to search for, how to dive into the rabbit hole of a piece’s origins.
At last, she could put all that knowledge to use. For Gideon.
* * *
The boys had yet to come out of Noah’s room the following morning when Gideon heard his bedroom door open. His heart stopped at the sweet sight of Rosie, her gorgeous curly hair wild around her beautiful face, her tempting mouth beckoning him over for another kiss.
