CHAPTER THIRTY
“If you want to mess with my sister, I’m all for it,” I reply without hesitation. “What do you have in mind?”
“Tess set us up for a terrible date,” Gideon says. “What if we turn the tables on her and pretend, just for tonight, the date was so incredible we couldn’t help falling for one another?”
His proposal stirs a fluttering of...something in my stomach. Hundreds of tiny butterflies all going crazy in there. It feels a lot like excitement, but I must be reading it wrong. Nerves is the more likely explanation.
“Just for tonight?” I clarify.
“Just for tonight.” His eyes are shadowed with some unfathomable emotion.
I’m silent, turning Gideon’s idea over in my head, curiosity and intrigue weaving through me.
“How will we pretend?” Simply asking the question causes my heart to start pounding.
“The most obvious way is to act as if we can’t keep our hands off each other.”
I gulp in a breath. “I see. That is the most obvious way.” I clear my throat and feel compelled to clarify, “Of course, we’re only acting.”
“Of course.”
“This will really mess with Tess.” That alone holds immense appeal to me.
“I agree.”
I bite my bottom lip. Some small, insignificant piece of me wonders why I’m not more resistant to the idea of the two of us acting like we can’t keep our hands off one another. That piece of me, however, is buried under all the other parts tingling with anticipation.
“I don’t know if she’ll buy it,” I argue. “My sister can be eerily perceptive at times.”
“Why don’t we play the scenario out?” Gideon suggests casually. “Let’s see if we can make it plausible enough so Tess will fall for it.”
This seems logical. I’m a staunch fan of logic. The thrill lighting up my nerve endings doesn’t feel logical, but that’s neither here nor there. “All right,” I agree, “let’s play it out.”
“Will Tess be waiting up for you?”
“Oh, yes. Without a doubt.”
His lips twitch. “Okay, so we pull up to your house,” he begins, unrolling the possible sequence of events.
“Tess will be watching from the window, pressed up against the glass,” I continue. “She wouldn’t want to take the chance she’ll miss out on anything.”
“We’ll have to exit the car so she can see us clearly.”
“Agreed.”
“There will have to be lots of smiling and laughing,” he warns me.
“I’m capable of both,” I maintain, a little defensively.
“There will have to be affection,” he adds.
“Elaborate, please.”
“You’ll have to touch me. And I’ll have to touch you.”
My breath quickens. I swallow. “I’ll need more details.”
“I’ll have to hold your hand.”
“Okay.”
“I might have to get really close to you.”
“How close?” Why does my voice sound so breathless?
He shrugs. I’m not fooled by the overly casual gesture. “Very.”
My heart begins a jubilant yes, yes, yes beat.
I’m abruptly aware of how close we’re standing to one another, as if our bodies had moved without our permission.
We watch each other for a long moment, the air around us thick and hot. One question remains. The proverbial elephant in the room. But he’s not asking it. And the uncertainty and anticipation are killing me. I can’t wait any longer.
“What about kissing?” I ask, my eyes moving involuntarily to his lips.
He takes his time answering, the conflict playing out on his face. “No,” he says finally. “No kissing.”
“Really? No kissing?” My voice is unnaturally high as I wonder at the swell of disappointment inside me.
I feel him watching me carefully. “That’ll probably be taking it too far.”
“You’re right.” I attempt to inject more certainty into my tone. “No kissing.”
His face is unreadable, showing none of the frustration swirling inside me. I feel the reckless urge to shake him up a bit.
“If we’re really going to sell it,” I tell him, my voice growing huskier with every word, “I’ll have to slip my hands under your shirt, maybe feel you up a bit.”
His breath catches and his eyes ignite. I feel a stab of triumph. Yes, Gideon Walker, you’re not completely in charge here.
And then he says, doubt flickering across his face, “I don’t know. I don’t think you can sell it.”
My competitive instinct is immediately triggered. Don’t ever tell me I can’t do something. Gideon obviously doesn’t know me very well.
“I can so sell it!”
“You know what, forget I said anything.” He’s already walking away from me, heading in the direction of his car. “We’ll never pull it off.”
“Why not?” I demand, hurrying after him.
“Tess won’t buy it. You won’t be able to convince her.”
“Me? Why can’t it be you who won’t convince her? Maybe you’re the one who’s a terrible actor.”
That stops him in his tracks. Slowly, he turns to look at me, his eyes pinning me in place. My disruptive imagination is abruptly picturing his broad, firm body pinning me beneath him.
His eyes take their time traveling from my lips down to the pulse beating frantically in my neck. Everywhere his eyes touch, my skin heats.
Then he steals the air from my lungs when he murmurs, “I’ll have no problem convincing your sister I’m attracted to you.”
Gideon pulls into my driveway and walks around the front of his car to open my door. The moment I step out, he takes my hand and laces his fingers through mine. The warm, slightly rough feel of his palm prickles my skin with goosebumps. Our lamp-lit street is quiet, residents tucked away inside their homes.
“Is Tess watching?” I ask softly, even though I spotted the guilty twitch of a curtain as soon as he stopped the car.
“Yes,” he confirms, just as softly. “You’re right. It looks as though her face is pretty much glued to the window.”
I stifle a giggle. This is so much fun. Actually, the whole evening has been loads of fun. I can’t remember the last time I laughed and enjoyed myself so much. Strangely, I think our shared horror over the exhibits in the museum really helped us to bond and smoothed over any awkwardness. From the time Gideon picked me up, I haven’t been in my head second- guessing my actions or worrying about his. I haven’t once felt nervous or uncomfortable. The one thing I have felt, though, is the pulsing pull of attraction for the man currently holding my hand and brushing his thumb slowly and tortuously over my skin.
“You ready?” he asks, his voice husky, the light from the streetlight highlighting the angles of his face.
My pulse thuds in my ears. “I’m ready.”
He turns to face me, letting go of my hand to slowly tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. His eyes don’t leave mine as his fingers slide through my hair to cup the back of my head.
The way he’s looking at me... I forget how to breathe.
I am so not ready for the full impact of Gideon’s focused intensity.
The only parts of him touching me are his fingers tangled in my hair, but that indecent look in his eyes has his hands all over me, his lips coaxing open mine, his strong, hard body caging me against the car. I feel a heavy ache spread through my limbs at the thought of what his imagination is doing to me right now.
The moment is so charged I fear if we make one tiny move we will combust.
Desire spirals to every part of my body, a deep, drugging pleasure that’s making it difficult for my legs to keep me upright.
As if sensing how affected I am, Gideon’s arm loops around my back, pulling me against him, anchoring me in place. He lowers his head so his lips are inches from mine. Suddenly, I’m desperate for him to kiss me. I know what we agreed, but I’m losing all sense of reason with him leaning in so close.
He doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he trails his lips along my neck and presses a featherlight kiss to the hollow of my throat. I lose myself in the sharp hit of pure want. A moan slips out of me and Gideon’s arms tighten around my body.
“Kate.” His voice is a low rasp, as if he’s hanging on by a thread.
I’m thrilled at the power I have over him right now.
I also realize my sister won’t buy our performance if Gideon does all the work. It’s all pretend, anyway, so I let myself go.
I press even closer to him, running my fingers through his hair, marveling at how thick and soft it feels. One hand moves to his chest and I fan my fingers out, tracing the contours of his muscles there.
His eyes darken and his breath comes faster.
“Should I stop?” I ask. A test.
“No.” That one word is a plea.
I trail my fingers from his hair to his jaw, getting used to the feel of his beard under my palm. I feel his jaw clench slightly.
“That feels so good,” he murmurs.
When I finally trust myself to speak, I whisper, “Do you think she’s falling for it?”
Even as I form the question, I realize I’m the one who seems to be falling here. Somewhere in all this, I’ve forgotten it’s just for show, that we’re only doing this to mess with Tess.
Gideon blinks. “I’m not sure.”
Almost by mutual agreement, we pull apart. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at one another.
“You’re a pretty good actor,” I say at last, dismayed to hear a faint shake in my voice.
His gaze holds mine. “I wasn’t acting.”
There’s a strange, lurching sensation in my chest. “What?”
“I’ve got a thing for you, Kate Miller. For your haunted eyes and your fierce love for your daughter. For the beautiful, gentle heart you hide beneath your abruptness. For your vulnerability underneath the veneer of having it all together.”
My throat is suddenly too tight for me to speak. For some inexplicable reason, I feel like I’m about to cry.
“Yeah, I’ve got a thing for you,” Gideon says again, his voice quiet and his eyes dark. “Deal with it.”
The moment Gideon leaves, my front door opens and Tess stands in the entryway, making no effort to hide the fact she was spying on us.
“Looks like your date went really well,” she remarks, eyes twinkling.
“No thanks to you,” I retort, brushing past her and heading to the kitchen.
“What do you mean?” she asks, following me.
I stand in the middle of the kitchen and glare at her. “The Unique Food Museum. Really? I don’t understand. How could you do that to me? What a way to ruin a date.”
Tess raises an eyebrow at me. “Maybe my eyes were deceiving me, but it didn’t look like your date was ruined.”
“We had a great time in spite of you recommending the museum to Gideon.”
“No, Kate, you had a great date because of my recommendation.”
“What are you talking about?”
She tilts her head, studying me. “Did you and Gideon have fun tonight?”
“Yes, but—”
“Did you get freaked out by the stuff in the museum and end up laughing about it?”
“Yes,” I answer slowly.
She nods. “And did you, my dear sister, get out of your head for most of the date?”
I stare at her. “You didn’t recommend the museum to sabotage us?”
“No. The opposite, in fact.”
“Because I would have found a way to ruin this evening all on my own,” I say, voicing out loud my earlier thoughts.
“Exactly,” Tess replies. “Don’t you think I know you? I needed you not to overthink everything, but simply to experience the evening as it unfolded.”
“And this was the best you came up with?” I sputter.
“Yes,” she answers calmly. “And it worked.”
I’m about to deny her words, but I realize she’s right. I didn’t self-sabotage. Gideon wants a second date. To my shock, so do I.
“Now,” Tess says, settling herself onto a kitchen stool, “I want to hear all about that HOT make-out session.”