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Stunned, she looked down at her phone. Seriously? Taking a deep breath, she scrolled through her contacts. An attorney. That’s what she needed now. She’d phone Guy Richard. He’d been helping her mother with legal stuff for as long as she could remember. He’d also been a big help after Adam had passed away. Hopefully, Guy had an unthreatening way to persuade freaking Bill Norton to ship her paintings to the gallery in Livingston.
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Gavin lifted his handto knock on the door. He dropped it again. What the hell was he doing here, on Brooke’s porch in the middle of a Thursday? He had work to do, and as had become clear to him on Tuesday, she didn’t need him. She was a famous artist with a brother who could give her everything she needed, including building her a dream studio.
There was nothing he could offer her she didn’t already have. But here he was, his heart pounding in his chest because she was on the other side of this door.
He knocked. And waited. He wasn’t going to touch her; he just needed to know she was okay. He knocked again. Nothing. Her car was in front of the house, the windows were open, she...
The door flew open and there she was—on the phone, frowning, her hair all over the place. Motioning him inside, she turned away, still talking.
“Thanks, Guy, I can kiss you right now. I so appreciate your help. Thanks again, goodbye.”
“Who the hell is Guy and why do you want to kiss him?” The words were out before he could stop himself.
Putting her phone in the pocket of her jeans, she lifted her chin. “Nothing to do with you.”
“I haven’t slept since Tuesday night, I haven’t eaten, I can’t work—all because of you. So I’d say you promising kisses to all and sundry is very much my business.”
“Well, welcome to the club. I haven’t slept very much either, I haven’t eaten, and I haven’t been able to change the damn painting from a kiss to something else!”
He couldn’t stop the grin. Stepping closer, he caught a whiff of her shampoo. His body immediately reacted. “Is that so?” he asked in a much softer voice.
Warily, she looked up at him. “We can’t do this, Gavin. My life’s a mess, and constantly thinking about you makes it worse!” She gestured wildly toward the several boxes in the room. “Look around you! And on top of everything, freaking Bill Norton refuses to send my paintings to the gallery in Livingston.”
It was the slight quiver of her lower lip that made him forget all his previous resolve not to touch her again. He pulled her close, his hands stroking her back. For a long time, they stood like that, until she stopped shaking.
“You’re constantly thinking about me?” He couldn’t help smiling.
“It’s not funny,” she murmured against his chest.
“What about a nice cup of tea?”
When she looked up, her eyes were wet with tears, and groaning, he pulled her close again. “What happened? And who is Bill what’s-his-name, and who the hell is the idiot you want to kiss?”
Sniffing, she pulled out of his arms. “Tea sounds like a very good idea.” He followed her as she walked toward the kitchen.
“Please sit down.” She put on the kettle and took down cups from the cupboard.
He enjoyed watching her. She moved gracefully, purposefully. Underneath her eyes were dark circles, a clear indication she she’d been telling the truth about not sleeping, either.
When the water boiled, she made the tea. “Don’t look at me—I’m a mess,” she said, her eyes on the task at hand.
“You’re beautiful. Always beautiful.”
She looked up, the hot tea missed the cup and spilled on to the table “Oh, damn, look what you made me do!” In her effort to put the pot down, her hand landed in the hot beverage. “Ouch!”
He was next to her before she’d finished crying out. “Oh, babe,” he crooned. Pulling her toward the sink, he opened the cold water and put her red fingers under the running water.
A tear escaped and ran down her cheek. He bent down and caught it with his lips as he closed the tap behind him.
Her breath hitched in her throat. “Gavin...”
But he didn’t want to talk or think, his mouth closing over hers. Finally. Her scent surrounded him, seeped through every pore of his body until she was all he was aware of. This was why he was here. To be with her. Like this.
Soft arms slipped around his neck, and his tongue found its way to her welcoming, warm depths where it happily tangled with hers. He’d missed this. Missed her. Missed touching her, kissing her.
Angling his head, he deepened the kiss, but she suddenly pulled away, panting. “I’m already not thinking straight; you kissing me is not helping.” And pulling out a chair, she quickly sat down.
