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Sloane laughed in a last-ditch effort to smooth over Bree’s crabby mood. “On a Saturday night?”
Bree responded with a blush and scowl combo that was probably visible from the moon before giving an exasperated sigh. “It’s due on Tuesday. Plus, I’m supposed to FaceTime Lucas so I can get the rest of his notes and stuff for our project.”
Ahhh. Well, at least her mood made sense now. And so did her bid for privacy. Sloane bit her lip and tried to decide how to proceed. Gavin would probably have a kitten at the whole boys-on-FaceTime thing, but really, Bree seemed edgy enough about it without Sloane giving her a hard time.
Still, something about the hard flash in Bree’s eyes made Sloane pause. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Fine,” Bree said, with enough frost to make it sound like the other F-word. “Can I go now? Please?”
Even though Sloane’s radar was on full alert, she knew that pushing Bree was only going to get her pushed back. “Sure,” she said slowly. “We can do the Shakespeare thing tomorrow. Just let me know if you need anything.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
The shock of Bree’s words knocked Sloane for a loop, and by the time the retort registered, Bree had beat a hasty retreat to her room.
She popped up from the couch with every intention of calling Bree back to take her to task, but the spurt of irritation flickered hard in her chest, and she froze to the floorboards. They’d spent an awful lot of time together over the last couple of days, and Bree’s adolescent emotions had more hairpin turns than the freaking Grand Prix. While Sloane wasn’t nuts about the eye-rolling attitude, itwaspretty common fare for the broody moody set. Bree probably just needed a break to hang out with someone else. The last thing she wanted to do was breathe down the kid’s neck. Hell, even the most even-keeled thirteen-year-old would get testy at that.
And anyway, it would probably be long forgotten by morning.
26
Gavin shook the late-February chill from his coat as he slipped his key in the lock and crossed the threshold into the warmth of the cottage. The sight of Sloane, curled up in a blanket by the fireplace with her fingers going a mile a minute on her laptop, sent a shot of heat through him that had nothing to do with escaping the elements. Man, she was sweet to come home to.
He wanted to come home to her every night, exactly like this, just so they could fall asleep together and wake up to do it all over again.
For the rest of their lives.
“Oh, hey. You’re home early.” A grin broke over Sloane’s face as she unfolded into a stretch against the couch cushions, and no way was he passing up that hot glimpse of skin peeking out from the hem of her shirt.
“I’m home early,” he agreed, but his mouth was already on her, testing the column of her neck as he pulled her close. Christ, nothing had ever tasted so pure and right and downright good as this woman.
She let out a melted-butter laugh and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her body fitting against his in a way that had them halfway to the bedroom in his brain. “That’s not like you, Mr. Responsibility. Are you sure the restaurant didn’t burn down or something?”
He slid his tongue over the delicate vein in her neck, just to feel her pulse jump. “No.”
“Mmm. And Carly didn’t fire you?” Her teasing lost its edge as he worked his way to the curve of her ear, the bold push of satisfaction and want combining low in his belly as she ended her question on a sigh.
“No.” Gavin lifted his head, placing his mouth just inches from hers. “I just left early.”
“That’s awfully impulsive for someone so serious,” Sloane said, making it sound every inch a compliment.
He kissed her with just enough pressure to make it a promise of things to come. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”
“Are you trying to woo me with flattery?” Leave it to Sloane to make a decent vocabulary sound sexy as hell. He unwound an arm from her waist and pulled back to pin her with a serious stare.
“Absolutely. Is it working?”
She arched a brow, but her smile gave her away. “Absolutely. Too bad for you, I can’t stay.”
“You can’t?” Gavin froze. Maybe he shouldn’t have come on so strong right out of the gate like that, especially after how intense things had been last night. Then again, this was a woman who wanted to go to the South Pacific without pants, for God’s sake. As much as she liked her independence, it wasn’t like a little reckless emotion should really scare her.
Which was good, considering he was pretty much overflowing with it.
Sloane shook her head, dark hair tumbling as she took a step back toward the couch. “Despite how much I want to stick around and let you flatter me ’til the sun comes up, I think I might’ve worn out my welcome with your sister. It might be best if I leave you guys alone for a night.”
“Wait, you mean with Bree? Are you serious?” No way could he have heard her right. Bree was nuts about Sloane, right down to her crazy purple boots.
But Sloane’s expression was strangely devoid of her trademark laughter as she closed her laptop and slipped it into her bag. “’Fraid so. She was in a hell of a mood before she went to bed. I went to check on her a little while ago, but her door was locked and her light was out.” She paused, her blue eyes flicking over him carefully before adding, “She might just need someone to talk to. After all, she’s had kind of an emotional weekend with that nightmare and everything.”
