Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
NATALIE
His beard is a lot softer than I expected. And the lips hiding under it are delicious—sweet with a hint of coffee.
What kind of madness came over me, grabbing him like that? I’ve never grabbed a man and slapped my mouth on his in my entire life. Never wanted to. Never even considered it.
But, good God, Gabe Woods is kissing me back.
Was that not what I expected when I snatched a fistful of his jacket and yanked him toward me? Was that not what I wanted?
His mouth is warm and firm. And there’s a tiny tremor in it as it presses against mine, as though he’s not really sure he should be doing this.
But he steps in closer, his movement more certain, as he slides a hand around my waist and rests it on the small of my back. The other cups my face, like he was on the verge of doing a moment ago before he retreated and apologized .
I clasp his forearm and inhale the scent of his skin. It’s the same aroma he left on my phone that first night, a bit orangey, with maybe some cloves. He kind of smells like Christmas.
The touch of his hands as well as his lips sends my belly rolling over and over on itself. My legs feel like they might collapse under me, and my underwear is definitely damp. Like, immediately with the first brush of a whisker against my chin, damp.
How did he get me so riled up and push me so far that my brain exploded and I thought jumping on him was a completely fine thing to do?
It certainly feels more than fine.
Our lips part at the same time. And he angles his head as his tongue?—
The sound of the double doors crashing open at the top of the aisle sends us jumping off each other like someone just poked us with the overly pointy swords a parent lent us for Robin Hood four years ago—I had to replace them with cardboard ones.
“I’ve lost a glove,” Grayson shouts, trudging toward us. “Mom says I have to find it. Have you seen a blue glove, Miss Bourne?” Then he registers Gabe is here. “Oh, hi, Mr. Woods.”
Mr. Wood , more like. Gabe pulls his jacket over his crotch.
“Could it have fallen out of your pocket at the pond yesterday?” Gabe asks, drawing a hand down his beard like he’s straightening it out.
Is he trying to get rid of Grayson so we can get right back to it?
“Let’s look for it.” I clap my hands together with purpose, trying to pull myself back from whatever alternate reality I just sank into. “There’s a limit to the number of places you’ve been.”
Gabe and I head for opposite sides of the room as a Grand Canyon of awkwardness opens up down the center aisle.
“Where did you have it last?” I ask Grayson.
“Mom’s already said that a hundred times.” He sinks down in a chair on the front row. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
Grayson’s parents are not exactly well-off. His mom is the breakfast cook at the Springs B&B, and his dad was laid off from the tire shop a few months ago and has been doing odd jobs while he looks for full-time work.
After about five minutes of searching, which feels more like five hours when you’re doing it in silence with an unexpected kiss sitting like a giant elephant in the Canyon of Awkwardness between us, I run out of places to look.
“Well, Gray.” I flop into the seat next to him. “I can’t think of anywhere else to check. Can you?”
He shrugs and plays with his one remaining glove in his lap.
Gabe strides closer and towers over us like a large rectangular hunk of gorgeousness that tastes of rich coffee and smells of Christmas and who I would very much like to kiss again. Even though it is possibly the worst idea I’ve ever had in my life. It’s actually definitely the worst idea I’ve ever had in my life.
“Blue, did you say?” Gabe says.
Grayson bolts upright, his face shooting up to look at Gabe, suddenly full of hope. “Yes. Did you find it?”
“The bad news is, I did not,” Gabe says.
“Oh.” Grayson slumps back down.
“But the good news is, these are blue.” He pulls a glove from each of his jacket pockets. “And they’re a bit small for me.”
I’d imagine all gloves are too small for him. Unless there’s a special custom glovemaker somewhere who specializes in shovel-sized mitts.
I’m not sure which opens wider, Grayson’s eyes or his mouth. He makes a long, slow, gasping sound. “They’re Apollos gloves.”
And there go my ovaries again.
They are indeed Apollos gloves. Royal blue with the blasting rocket ship on the back, identical to the one on the T-shirt Gabe lent me to sleep in.
“They’ll still be a bit big for you,” Gabe says, offering them to the boy. “But they might get you by for a bit. Till you can find the one you lost.”
Grayson takes them and studies them like he’s never seen such precious objects before. “Really? I can keep them?”
“Absolutely.” Gabe nods. “They’re from the team shop. I can get another pair when I go back to New York.”
Reason number one—or one hundred and one, depending on how you look at it—that kissing Gabe Woods was a bad idea, in a couple of weeks he’ll likely be fit enough to go back to New York City and I’m definitely going to New Orleans.
Or maybe that’s what was at the back of my mind when I grabbed him. A kind of what-the-hell-I’ll-never-see-you-again type thing.
Either way, giving Grayson his gloves is a nice thing for him to do. How can someone be so exasperating but so damn nice all at the same time? So damn nice it makes me want to crawl inside his jacket .
“Will your mom be okay with you taking them?” Gabe asks.
Grayson gets to his feet, face beaming. “My dad definitely will. He loves hockey. Probably more of a Maple Leafs fan than the Apollos. He’s from Canada originally.” Grayson takes a couple of steps toward the aisle like he can’t wait to get out of here to go show his father. “But I know he’ll think it’s cool. Everyone will think it’s cool.” He moves farther away, still staring at the gloves in his hands. “And Kristopher definitely doesn’t have a pair. So that makes them even cooler.”
He picks up the pace heading up the aisle, so excited that he’s forgotten his manners.
“Grayson,” I call after him. “Do you think you should tha?—”
“Thank you, Mr. Woods.” He’s pretty much jogging away. “Thank you.”
And he’s gone. The doors swing shut behind him.
And that leaves just me, Gabe, the canyon and the elephant.