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Out of breath, Brooketurned back with Gavin’s phone still clutched tightly in her hands. “I’m sorry about my mother. She is incorrigible, and I have no excuses to offer for her. For some or other reason, she’s decided she’s a matchmaker. You’ll remember how she conned Logan to go and see Charlie. I’ve tried to explain to both your sisters, time and time again, that you and I are just friends, but now that they are happily married, they seem to be helping my mother with her matchmaking plans—as if she needs any encouragement. When you see them again, please make sure they understand we’re friends, and that’s it?”
Gavin opened his mouth, but Connor came rushing in, cutting off his words.
“I’m hungry, Mom. Really, really hungry.”
“I’m going to make some fries, as well. Do you think you can wait a little while longer?” Gavin asked Connor while peeling the potatoes he’d brought with him.
“Can I watch what you’re doing?” Connor asked, eyes wide.
“Of course. Pull up a chair—you can help me.”
Within seconds, Connor was standing on a chair and with his hand on Gavin’s shoulder.
Brooke swallowed against the lump in her throat. Connor obviously had the need of a male figure in his life. He loved hanging out with her brother, Logan, and since the first night they’d met Gavin, her little boy had somehow made a connection with the tall, seriously gorgeous guy.
Yeah, she’d noticed exactly how gorgeous he was. She was a widow, not dead. And one would have to be dead not to notice Gavin Wilson’s cobalt blue eyes or the movement of his arm muscles beneath a shirt or the way his jeans fitted over...
Taking a big sip from her wine, she turned away. Oh, my goodness, look at the direction her thoughts were going.Focus, focus.There had to be something else that she should be doing besides drooling over Gavin. Oh, yes, the table. She could set the table—that at least she could do. Quickly, she walked toward the cupboard where she kept the silverware and plates.
Her body was buzzing, though, making it difficult to focus. What was it that she’d thought of doing? She stared at the cupboard in front of her for a few minutes before she remembered. Set the table. Take out knives, forks, plates, napkins.
Help.
Inhaling deeply, she tried to concentrate on the task at hand, but it was difficult. Before Connor had reappeared in the kitchen, she and Gavin had been alone in a room for the first time ever. A room still vibrating with electricity.
––––––––
By the time they’dfinished dinner, the unfamiliar undercurrents in the kitchen had Gavin seriously hot and bothered. What the hell was going on? For some strange reason, his whole being had tuned into Brooke, and all his senses were on high alert—without looking at her, he was conscious of her every move, her smell, the light on her hair, her full mouth.
This had never happened before. He liked the opposite sex—he’d dated often—but what was going on in this kitchen tonight was a first.
Fortunately, Connor had kept the conversation flowing since neither he nor Brooke seemed to have much to say. He’d made the food, and he knew it was a foolproof recipe, but he might as well been eating dust. He’d hardly tasted anything.
Brooke finally got up. “Time for bed, Connor. Go take a bath. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Reluctantly, Connor got up. “Uncle Gavin, you’ll read me a story when I’m in bed?”
Brooke didn’t look at Gavin but shook her head. “Sweetheart, Uncle Gavin wants to go home...”
“Of course, I will,” Gavin heard himself say. “While you have your bath, I’ll clean up here, and then I can read you a story.”
Brooke shook her head. “That’s not necessary, Gavin, really. You’ve cooked; I’ll wash. I just want to...”
They simultaneously reached to pick up the same plate, and again their fingers brushed briefly. Brooke snatched her hand away quickly, but not before he noticed the soft blush on her cheeks.
“Come on, Connor, let me help you.” Without looking back, Brooke took Connor by the hand, and they left the kitchen.
Gavin exhaled slowly. He wasn’t sure what was going on here tonight, but he had to get out of her house before he did something really stupid. Like touching Brooke’s face to find out if her skin was actually as soft as it looked. Or, heaven forbid, kissing her. He kept looking at her soft lips, and okay, yeah, it wasn’t the first time he’d noticed just how inviting her lips were, but tonight she had him twisted up in knots. The fact that she was totally unaware of the effect she had on him made it worse.
Cussing softly, he cleared the table. He had no business lusting after Brooke. Relationships were complicated, he’d learned after the brief time he’d spent with Sarah, his last attempt at dating, and when he’d found out she’d been sleeping with someone else the whole time they were together, he’d been more relieved than anything else.You are not relationship material,she’d told him. Why she hadn’t conveyed that fact and broken it off with him, before she’d jumped into bed with someone else, would remain a mystery.
He was all too aware of the fact he was nobody’s hero. He’d even failed to notice that one of his own sisters was having problems with the guy she’d been dating. Only when his sisters informed him they were moving to Alisson, in Montana, halfway around the globe, had he learned about the harrowing time Lindsay had dealing with Mark Taylor, her boyfriend at the time. And then he also hadn’t been here when Lindsay needed his help when the same Taylor followed her and put both her and Charlie’s lives in danger.
If it hadn’t been for Blake Davidson, the ex-FBI agent who was now his brother-in-law, Lindsay would probably have been hurt again, or worse.
He could cook for Brooke and her son, but even thinking of getting closer to the two of them would be a huge mistake.
“Gavin?”
