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She shrugged off his arm and glared at him. “Don’t touch me. Where is the form?”
“In my office, of course.” Bill reached out to touch her again, but she backed away quickly. From behind, two familiar hands folded protectively over her shoulders. “Everything okay, babe?” It was Gavin. He was here.
For a brief moment, she experienced relief—going with Bill to his office alone was not something she was looking forward to, but Gavin didn’t have to know that. She would’ve handled whatever happened on her own. Hadn’t she told him that?
She turned to face Gavin. “I’ve got this.”
Gavin smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course you have. I’m just here to help carry your paintings.”
She’d already thought about what she’d do with the paintings, but she still hadn’t come up with a workable solution. Gavin had just made it easy. The two paintings were big, but not that big; they should be able to carry them back. But she didn’t have to like his interference. With another glare in the direction of both men, she squared her shoulders and marched toward Bill’s office. “Let’s get this over with. This is not acceptable and I’ll make sure everyone knows about this little episode.”
“I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” Bill smiled as they entered his office. “I told Brooke...”
He put out a tentative hand to touch her again, but she shrank back against Gavin.
Gavin put his arm around her. “The lady told you not to touch her.”
“Who are you again?”
“Not someone you want to mess with. The paintings. Now.” Gavin didn’t even sound threatening; he simply towered over Bill.
“Of course.” Bill scuttled away.
––––––––
By the time they reachedGavin’s car in the parking lot, Brooke was still shaking and breathing deeply. What a distasteful incident. She was definitely going to send Lynda another email to complain about the very unpleasant Bill. Chances were, she wasn’t the only one Bill was trying to intimidate.
Gavin had still been glaring at Bill when she’d simply picked up one of her paintings and left the office. She hadn’t looked back again but had heard Gavin’s footsteps behind her as they’d left the gallery.
She put the painting down next to the car. It had been a while since she’d last had to carry one of her own paintings. Gulping in some air, she leaned against the door. She shouldn’t be so out of breath after walking a few blocks. Hopefully, once she was on the ranch, she’d be able to get more exercise.
But then maybe her heavy breathing had nothing to do with carrying the painting and everything to do with the silent man next to her. Gavin hadn’t said a word since they’d left the gallery.
“Gavin, I...”
That muscle in his cheek was working overtime. He didn’t answer—just opened the door for her.
She squared her shoulders. “I would’ve been able to get the paintings on my own; nobody asked you to barge in and take over. Bill is creepy, but I don’t believe he would’ve done anything...”
At this point, Gavin’s eyes were mere slits, and with a cussword, he turned away. “Get in the damn car.”
“I don’t have to do...”
He rounded on her, eyes blazing, but she stood her ground. “I am not sure whether to throttle you or kiss you...” The next minute, he hauled her close to him and buried his face in her neck, a shudder wracking his body. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? Anything could’ve happened to you!”
“Gavin...” she tried, but he only tightened his hold on her.
She slid her hands up and down his shoulders, trying to soothe him. They stood like that for a long while before he finally stopped shaking and her insides settled down.
He kissed her hard before he cupped her face. “That damn man put a hand on you...” Inhaling, he stepped away and rubbed his face. “I’m here. Why the hell didn’t you ask me to go with you?”
“Because it’s my mess. I was going to sort it out.”
“Damn it to hell, Brooke—you could’ve been hurt! That guy isn’t just creepy, he was hell-bent on getting you in his office alone. There wasn’t even a form to sign! Don’t you think you’re taking this I-can-do-it-on-my-own thing a tad too far?”
She swallowed. Gavin was right. Bill hadn’t even mentioned the so-called “form” again. Brooke crossed her arms. “I have to be able to sort out my own life, damn it. I don’t need you!”
Something flashed in his eyes. “Of course you don’t.” He turned and put the paintings away.
