Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Gabby opened one gritty eyelid and tried to remember what had happened. First there was the fancy society party. Later a stop at Jason’s house. An argument at hers. And then sex. Oh, the sex.
A blush spread from her throat to her hairline, though there was no one to see. The woman who had made love to Jason in this bed with reckless abandon—for hours—was her hedonistic, unfamiliar twin. That other female looked like Gabby. She talked like Gabby. But her willingness to be free and open was unfamiliar at best.
One thing was clear. A big, warm, tempting-as-hell Jason Brightman was still asleep in her bed. And to be honest, he showed no signs of rousing.
She would die before admitting to him that she had never spent an entire night with a man. He already thought of her as innocent and naive when it came to physical intimacy. The fact that they had indulged in sex half a dozen times during the night might have advanced her experience considerably, but she didn’t want to let him know she had issues relating to this kind of situation.
For one thing, the morning after was new to her.
She needed to pee. And she craved a shower.
But what if she accidentally woke him up? Shouldn’t she at least brush her teeth before they got involved again?
Inch by inch, she slid her body away from his side of the bed, lifting his arm slowly and substituting a pillow beneath it. When she was ready to stand up, she took an entire ten seconds to listen to him breathe. Not quite a snore, but close. He was dead to the world, his body completely relaxed.
She smirked. No wonder he was comatose. The man had burned a whole lot of calories during the night.
When she stood, her head spun dizzily. Maybe she, too, was going to feel the aftereffects. Her thighs ached pleasantly, and her body was the tiniest bit stiff.
Opening a drawer to get jeans and a top seemed too risky. Instead, she grabbed a clean pair of undies from the laundry basket on the floor of her closet. Her knee-length pink chenille bathrobe would have to do. Her feet were freezing now that she was out of bed, so she grabbed the matching pink scuffs and carried her armor to the bathroom.
After carefully locking the door, she used the bathroom, turned on the shower faucet, and stared at herself in the mirror as she waited for the water to heat. She had a smudge of mascara under one eye, but other than that, not too bad.
It was the glow that alarmed her. She looked happy and satisfied. Her usual guarded expression was nowhere to be found. Shouldn’t that worry her?
She bit her lip but couldn’t erase the smile that lifted her mouth into a smug curve. Last night with Jason had been incredible. She couldn’t even whip up any desire to kick him out of her apartment. It was Sunday. There was no rush.
Astonishingly, the clock said it was almost noon. She couldn’t recall the last time she had stayed in bed so long. Maybe a year ago when she’d had the flu?
Quickly she showered and washed her hair. After wrapping her head in a towel, she brushed her teeth. Then she finished drying off and slipped into her robe, belting it tightly around her waist.
When she opened the door, the apartment was still and quiet. After taking a peek at her guest—who was still sound asleep—she made her way to the kitchen, prepped the coffeepot, and turned it on. She owned one of those single-pod machines, but she had company today. It was bound to be a more-than-one-cup morning for both of them.
As she cradled her first mug between her palms, she heard the bathroom door open and shut. Then the water running. Thank goodness. She hadn’t wanted to be responsible for waking him up. No telling what might have happened.
She trembled—all alone in the kitchen—and knew she was in trouble. Fun, delightful, satisfying trouble, but trouble nevertheless.
When Jason finally walked into the room, she was standing at the sink looking out the window at the squirrels who always managed to steal her neighbor’s birdseed from the feeder. Gabby looked over her shoulder at him. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
If life were fair, he should have looked slightly hungover. Or at least haggard. But the man with the crystal-blue eyes was as stunning as ever. He wore jeans and thick wool socks, but he was bare from the waist up.
He came up behind her and nuzzled the back of her neck, pressing his lips to her nape. “I deserve that. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
She turned in his arms and kissed him lazily. “I thought you needed the sleep. You want me to make you some toast? Or eggs?”
He smiled, his eyes heavy-lidded. “How does brunch sound? I know a fun place. And I need to do an errand at the mall while we’re out.”
She poured him a cup of coffee and watched as he doctored it with cream and two sugars. “An errand?” she said. “You want to go to a mall the weekend before Christmas? Are you mad?” She knew he was referring to Lenox Square. It was the large, upscale property in the heart of Buckhead. Even though the twenty-fifth was still six days away—next Saturday, to be exact—malls everywhere were sure to be crowded with shoppers.
“It won’t take long.” He drained half the cup.
“What are you going for?”
He smiled ruefully. “My mom’s parents retired to a condo on Marco Island in Florida a few years back. They usually come up for Christmas. But Granddad has been ill, so they’ve decided to stay put for now. I’ll probably fly down there one weekend in January and do some fishing with them.”
“And how does that connect to the mall?”
His smile was abashed. “My grandmother bought me a present from Neiman Marcus. She hates getting out to mail things, so I’m going to pick it up.”
“Wouldn’t Neiman’s have shipped it for her?”
“They would, yes, but she was afraid that she ordered too late, and she doesn’t trust any of the shipping companies. I could tell she was fretting about it, so I promised I would pick it up in person.”
Gabby patted his cheek. “What a good grandson. And yes, I’m starving. Brunch it is. I can be ready in fifteen minutes.”
While Jason lingered in the kitchen for another cup of coffee, Gabby dashed into her bedroom to get dressed and blow-dry her hair with a round brush. She threw on a pair of slim black pants with a red sweater and black flats. Because her hair cooperated, she soon had it curving at her chin in a familiar style.
She had friends who loved changing their color and cut often. No, thanks. Gabby’s hair philosophy was if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it .
When she was done, she dashed back to the kitchen. “I’m ready,” she said, breathless and still somewhat flummoxed that Jason now seemed at home in her apartment. “But I think you have to wear a shirt.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” After setting his coffee mug in the sink, he yawned and stretched. The muscles in his abdomen moved subtly, mesmerizing her. “Give me two minutes,” he said. On the way to the hallway, he paused to kiss her.
His lips were firm and warm and coaxing. He smelled like sleepy male and a trace of evergreen scent she had noticed last night. She leaned toward him and tried to pretend that kissing half-naked men on a Sunday morning was nothing new.
Their lazy wake-up routine suddenly became edged with danger.
Gabby was embarrassed to hear the needy sound she made when he pulled her close and took the kiss deeper.
Jason groaned. “I could do my errand tomorrow.”
She put both hands on his chest and shoved, her fingertips tingling from contact with his warm, smooth skin. “Oh, no. We can’t stay in bed all day.”
“Because?”
She felt her face go hot. “Well, honestly, I’m a little...um...”
He grinned. “Chafed? Sore?”
“Something like that,” she said wryly, wishing she could match his nonchalance. Her whole reality felt slightly off-kilter. As if all of this was a dream, and she was eventually going to wake up.
“Fine,” he said, pretending to grumble. “Be a spoilsport. Let me grab my shirt and we’ll be on our way.”
When he returned, it was hard to breathe. How did he do that? He was wearing the same pair of trendy dress jeans and the woolen socks. But he had added a thin black cashmere V-neck sweater over a black-and-white-checked shirt. Expensive ankle boots in dark brown leather completed his ensemble.
Though everything had been stuffed in his duffel bag willy-nilly, and he hadn’t even taken the time to shave, he looked like an ad for wealthy guy enjoys the weekend . It wasn’t fair at all.
She told herself clothes didn’t make the man. Jason was genuine and caring. Since he clearly had a thing for her—at least now—she needed to get over her squeamishness about his money. His natural masculine confidence was not an attempt to impress Gabby, or anyone, for that matter. He was who he was.
Over brunch they talked books and movies and podcasts. She asked questions about his photography and smiled inwardly to herself at his boundless enthusiasm for lighting and composition.
His offhand mentions of exotic locations drove home to her how limited her global experience was. She wanted to travel. And she had recently reached a point financially where a big trip wasn’t out of the question. But the thought of leaving her mother behind stalled Gabby every time. Dahlia would barely escape Blossom Branch for a day trip to Atlanta, much less exit the state or the country.
As they left the restaurant and climbed back into Jason’s car, she groaned. “You let me eat too much. The bacon and eggs were amazing. But those Belgian waffles with the chocolate sauce were over-the-top.”
He chuckled as he pulled out onto Peachtree Street. “Well worth it, though. We can go for a run later this afternoon. Offset all those calories.”
Gabby mulled that statement. Did he assume they were spending the day together? Based on last night’s activities, that wasn’t altogether out of the question. But was she okay with his moving into her life so easily?
She’d been honest with him. The way she felt about Jason was scary. He made the world brighter, more fun. If Gabby let herself rely on him, how broken would she be when they parted company?
Her dark thoughts occupied her all the way to the mall parking lot. Jason had to circle three entire levels before they found an empty space. The sheer volume of cars was staggering. Finally they made it inside.
Neiman Marcus was down a wide corridor off the center section. Overhead, holiday decorations added to the festive air, as did the hordes of happy and not-so-happy customers. Christmas brought out the best in most and the worst in some.
In Neiman’s they made their way through the array of fancy cosmetic counters at the front of the store. Gabby had brought her mother here one day so the two of them could collect samples. Dahlia had thought the whole thing was a great lark. She never used any of the products.
Now Jason and Gabby took the escalator down to the floor below, where an extensive men’s department was located. “I’ll ask that guy,” Jason said, heading for a discreetly placed sales register.
The poor store clerk was visibly harried. The line of people waiting to speak to him was four deep when Jason joined the queue. Jason gave Gabby a wave with a rueful expression that made her smile. Served him right for thinking he was immune to the difficulties of holiday shopping.
Gabby hovered at a distance, not wanting to seem curious. She crisscrossed the area, pausing to touch the sleeve of a charcoal wool-blend suit that cost more than a month of her rent. If she had an iota of artistic talent, it would be fun to work here and showcase the designer goods. There were shirts and belts stacked gracefully around white reindeer. Italian dress shoes filled with colorful Christmas ornaments.
Her favorite display was an eye-catching assortment of men’s silk boxers and neckties. The center of the table supported an artfully snowy mountain. The underwear and ties had been layered beautifully in a cascade down the sides of the faux hill. Some items were navy with a tiny green Christmas tree print. Others red with white snowflakes. And of course the more traditional paisleys and stripes.
When she looked, Jason was still one back in the line waiting for help. He had his phone in his hand, probably reading email. To entertain herself, she picked up one of the pairs of boxers at the bottom of the mountain and glanced at the price tag. A hundred seventy-five dollars? Good lord. For underpants?
She knew this wasn’t her kind of store. Even with her current job. But thriftiness ran deep in her psyche. Maybe she was being prissy and judgmental. People could spend their money however they wished. It wasn’t up to her to police the world.
Still, it was hard to swallow.
Finally Jason was done. He returned to her side carrying a silver box tied with a burgundy bow. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think it would take so long.”
“Are you going to open it?”
He chuckled, putting a hand at her back and steering both of them toward the escalator. “Not now. I already know what it is.”
When they were back in the car, she watched him toss the package in the back seat before starting the engine.
“Obviously not breakable,” she said, fastening her seat belt.
Jason backed out of the space and was nearly caught between two cars duking it out for the newly vacated spot. He eased around three more cars in the narrow aisle and headed for the exit. When they were finally out on the road and merged into traffic, he exhaled. “Remind me never to do that again.”
“So you’re not going to tell me?” she said, teasing him.
He shot her a laughing glance. “Tell you what?”
“About your present.”
“Oh, that.” He braked hard when the car in front of them skidded to a stop at a traffic light. “Let’s hope we get home in one piece,” he said. Then he grinned. “Since you risked life and limb with me to pick up the box, I guess I can tell you. When I was a teenager, my grandparents bought me all the usual electronic gifts. Tablets, phones, you know. But the first Christmas after I turned eighteen, my grandfather told me it was time to embrace an adult man’s luxuries.”
Gabby raised her eyebrows. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“Exactly. I had the same initial reaction. My grandmother pretended to be scandalized, but in reality, she thought it was fun. They gave me silk boxers for Christmas. It’s become a kind of tongue-in-cheek family joke, but every December 25 for a decade now, the gift is always the same.”
“I see,” Gabby said faintly. “I’ll have to admit, a pair of silk boxers is a bit odd coming from the older generation.”
“Oh, no,” he said, still grinning. “It’s half a dozen pairs—in a collection of colors—every Christmas.”
She felt her stomach twist unpleasantly. Jason’s gift cost over a thousand dollars? For boxers? Still, what was in the beautifully wrapped present might not be the same as ones in the display she had seen. Maybe the boxers in his beautifully wrapped present were only a hundred bucks a pair. It didn’t really matter. The fact was, this family could afford to gift their beloved grandson with a completely unnecessary luxury.
But wasn’t that the point? Luxuries weren’t necessary.
The whole incident left her unsettled. It seemed to reinforce the myriad of differences between them. Her friend and lover had never known financial hardship. That wasn’t his fault. Nor was it something to be pursued.
At the next traffic light, Jason reached across and squeezed her hand. “You okay? You got awfully quiet.”
She nodded. “I’m fine. Probably all those waffle carbs making me sleepy.”
Back at her apartment, she felt a knot grow in her chest. As much as she would have liked a repeat of the night before, another part of her needed Jason gone. Everything was going too fast.
In her kitchen, she gave him a cajoling smile. “The past twenty-four hours have been wonderful, Jason. I’ve loved every minute with you. But to be honest, I have a few Sunday evening routines to get ready for the workweek. Grocery shopping. Food prep. Laundry. I hope you understand.”
The lighthearted expression on his face disappeared. His gaze narrowed. “You’re kicking me out.” It wasn’t a question.
“Not kicking you out,” she protested. She made herself approach him and kiss his cheek. “Just needing some time at the end of a long weekend to prepare for tomorrow.”
Her smile was genuine. Even affectionate. She didn’t think she had revealed any of her unsettled emotions.
Jason was visibly disgruntled. “Is something wrong? Are you upset about having lunch with my mother?”
“I’m fine with your mother. She doesn’t scare me. Lunch will be short and sweet. Don’t you worry about it.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve bought you a Christmas present,” he said bluntly. “No need for you to reciprocate. Besides, I know you’ll say it’s too soon or not necessary . When can I give it to you?”
This was a curveball she hadn’t seen coming. Certainly not the bold, head-on question. “Um...can I text you in a couple of days? Work is crazy this week. I’m not sure when I’m heading to Blossom Branch.”
What she didn’t say was that the sex they had shared was so incredible, she was torn. Did she encourage a repeat performance, or should she step back before she ended up far too involved? If she eased away from Jason now, that would be the end of it. He was a gentleman. He wouldn’t pursue her if she made it clear she wasn’t interested.
But that was a huge problem. Jason knew what things were like between them. He knew Gabby was head over heels in lust with him.
She wouldn’t let herself think beyond that truth. It made perfect sense that she enjoyed him in bed. He was stunningly masculine, but sweet and tender, too.
This was a bad time to admit she might be in love with him. In fact, she had probably been in love with Jason Brightman for a decade in one way or another. No other man ever came close to being so perfect and yet so completely wrong for her.
Jason took her wrist and pulled her into his arms. “So you’re saying you don’t want to be naked with me one more time today?” He stroked her hair, his smile gentle as if he knew she was fragile in this moment.
“I want to have sex with you,” she said firmly. “I do. But we both know what will happen. It would be last night all over again.”
He ran his thumb across her cheekbone, his eyes lit with a tiny blue flame that betrayed his arousal. “And that’s a bad thing?”
She rested her cheek against his shoulder, inhaling his scent. Memorizing the feel of his big arms wrapped around her. “It’s a wonderful thing. But your current job caters to the schedule you want. Mine doesn’t. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He bent and kissed her lips, then stepped away quickly as if he was afraid to linger. “I understand, Gabby. You’ve given me so much this weekend. I won’t push for more. I respect your work ethic and your sense of responsibility.”
She winced. “I’ve been called a stick-in-the-mud. A party pooper. Debbie Downer. Not everyone appreciates a person who is incapable of throwing caution to the wind. I’d like to be that woman. I’ve tried at times. But it’s not who I am.”
“I like you exactly the way you are, Gabby.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his jaw outthrust. “Don’t assume I’m trying to change you. I’m not. I can’t help it if you’re so sexy and desirable that I want you 24/7.”
Her gaze widened. “You’re exaggerating,” she said, the words strangled with disbelief and embarrassment at his raw pronouncement.
“No.” He stared at her. “You’re everything I want in a woman. I could make a list if you like.”
She managed a rusty chuckle. “Thanks for the offer, but no. I believe you. You must know how much I want you, too.”
“But wanting isn’t enough, is it?” he asked, the words low and rumbly. As if he hadn’t meant to say them at all.
She thought about that. “Well... I suppose it depends on the end goal. If you and I choose to give and receive pleasure as lovers, then maybe all the ways we’re different won’t matter so much.”
He straightened, his posture stiff. “And if the goal is far more visceral—deeper, more significant?”
She shifted from one foot to the other, wishing she were sitting down. “I don’t know what you mean.” That was a lie. Of course she did. He was talking about the two of them as a couple. For real.
The thought of that sent a rush of emotion through her veins—a combination of delighted anticipation and flat-out terror.
Jason saw through her pathetic attempt to misunderstand him. His smile was grim. “Don’t worry, Gabby. You look like you’re going to faint. I’ll be as patient as I need to be, I swear.”
If his patience was all she needed, his promise would have solved everything.
But what if there was no answer? What if there would never be an answer? This whole thing might be temporary at best. What if Jason Brightman and Gabby Nolan had no long-term alignment? What if they were bound for disaster?
Gabby wasn’t the only one with vulnerabilities. She didn’t want to be Jason’s rebound fling. That wouldn’t be good for him because of his relationship with Cate...and Gabby’s with Cate, as well. If things blew up, life would be very complicated.
“We have time,” she said weakly.
His face darkened, though he nodded slowly. “Sure,” he said curtly. “Let me know when we can see each other before Christmas.”
Before she could say another word to him, he opened the door and walked out.