Chapter Seventeen
Cate
My mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Say something. Say literally anything. Yes. No. Maybe. I need to think about it. What exactly do you mean by “stay”? Can you define your terms? Do you have a PowerPoint presentation I could review?
But before a single coherent syllable could escape, Gabriel moved.
He leaned in. Not hesitant, not tentative, not asking for permission, and kissed me.
Oh. Oh my God.
Oh my God, oh my God! His mouth was warm and firm against mine, confident in a way that made my knees forget how to function. His hand was still cupping my face, thumb stroking my cheek, and his other hand—oh God, his other hand—slid to the small of my back, pulling me closer.
Not asking. No... he took and my brain exploded.
Not the metaphorical explosion from thirty seconds ago. An actual, literal detonation of every synapse, every thought, every rational cell in my entire nervous system.
Gabriel Lyon is kissing me.
Gabriel Lyon. My boss, Megan’s father, the most controlled man on the planet is kissing me in the hallway outside his daughter’s bedroom.
This is insane. This is—Oh my God, this is—I froze.
Completely, utterly froze, like someone had hit pause on my entire existence as his mouth moved against mine, coaxing, and I felt the slight pressure of his hand on my back, drawing me even closer, and something in my brain finally snapped back online.
Kiss him back, you idiot.
KISS HIM BACK.
I kissed him back.
My hands, which had been hanging uselessly at my sides like dead fish, came up to his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. The fabric was soft under my palms, and beneath it I could feel the solid warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart that was definitely faster than normal.
He’s affected. Oh my God, he’s actually affected.
His mouth opened slightly, deepening the kiss, and I made a sound—some embarrassing, desperate little noise that I would definitely be mortified about later—and pressed closer.
He tasted like the lemonade we’d had at the carnival. Sweet and tart and somehow better than any dessert I’d ever made, better than the chocolate soufflé that won me second place at the culinary competition, better than the crème br?lée I’d perfected after three years of practice.
This is better than food.
Oh my God, something is better than food.
I’m having a crisis.
His hand slid from the small of my back to my waist, fingers splaying possessively, and I felt the pressure of his touch through my shirt like a brand.
I’m going to combust. Spontaneous human combustion is real, people, and it’s happening right now in Gabriel Lyon’s hallway.
I tilted my head, trying to get closer, trying to—What am I doing? What am I DOING? This is my boss. My BOSS. The man who signs my paychecks. The man who could fire me with a single word. The man whose daughter is sleeping ten feet away.
I’m kissing my boss.
I’m kissing my boss and I don’t want to stop.
Oh God, I’m definitely getting fired.
This is it. This is how my nanny career ends.
Not with a butter knife incident or a broken arm or accidentally setting something on fire—with me making out with my employer in a dimly lit hallway like some kind of—Gabriel pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss, and I made another sound, this one definitely a whimper of protest.
Smooth, Cate. Very professional.
His forehead rested against mine, and I could feel his breath against my lips, warm and unsteady.
He’s breathing hard.
Gabriel Lyon is breathing hard.
Because of me.
Holy shit.
“Cate,” he murmured, and his voice was rough, strained, like he’d been running. Or like he’d been kissing someone and didn’t want to stop.
Oh my God.
I opened my eyes and found him watching me with an intensity that made my stomach flip.
His pupils were dilated. His normally controlled expression was completely undone.
His hair was slightly messed up where my fingers had apparently migrated at some point during the kiss, and his mouth—Don’t look at his mouth.
Don’t think about his mouth.
Too late. Thinking about his mouth. Thinking about what his mouth was just doing. Thinking about what else his mouth could—“I—” I started, but my voice came out as a croak.
Sexy. Very sexy. Definitely not the sound of a dying frog.
I cleared my throat and tried again. “I—um—”
Words, Cate. Use your words. You’re a grown-ass woman. You can form sentences. “That was—” I attempted.
That was what? Amazing? Terrifying? The best and worst decision of my entire life? All of the above?
Gabriel’s thumb stroked my cheek again, and I forgot how to breathe. “I’ve wanted to do that,” he said quietly, “since that first day when you stood up to me after I got home.”
What?
WHAT? Since the FIRST DAY? He’s wanted to kiss me since the first day?
My brain tried to process this information and immediately gave up. “You—” I squeaked. “But you were so—you were so.”
“Angry?” he supplied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Frustrated?”
“Terrifying,” I finished. “You were absolutely terrifying.”
His mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile but was close. “You terrified me first.”
“I—what? How? You were the one who looked like you were going to murder me!”
“You walked into my house,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “and within five minutes, you’d broken every rule, questioned every boundary, and made my daughter laugh harder than she had in months.”
Oh.
“And then,” he continued, his hand sliding from my face to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair, “you stood in my house and read me the riot act. You defended my daughter and put me in my place.”
Oh, my God.
He remembers everything.
“I knew right then,” he murmured, his eyes holding mine, “that you were going to be a problem.”
“A problem?” I repeated, my voice embarrassingly breathless.
“The best kind of problem.”
And then he kissed me again.
This time I didn’t freeze. This time I kissed him back immediately, my hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders, then to his neck, fingers threading through his hair.
His hair is so soft. Why is his hair so soft? This is unfair. Everything about him is unfair.
He made a sound, low and rough, and backed me up against the wall.
Oh. Oh my God!
The solid surface hit my back, and Gabriel pressed against me, one hand still tangled in my hair, the other gripping my waist like he was afraid I’d disappear.
Not going anywhere. Definitely not going anywhere. Could stay here forever. Would stay here forever.
His mouth moved from my lips to my jaw, trailing kisses that made my knees actually buckle.
Knees buckling. That’s a real thing. That actually happens.
Who knew?
“Gabriel,” I gasped, and his name came out like a prayer.
Or a plea.
Or both.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and intense and completely undone.
“Stay,” he said again, and this time there was no question about what he meant.
Oh my God.
Oh my God, he wants me to stay. With him. Tonight. In his bed.
Gabriel Lyon wants me in his bed.
This is—this is—I can’t. I should—we’re in the hallway. Outside Megan’s room. I’m the nanny. He’s my boss. This is—this is the worst idea ever.
Scratch that... this is the best idea ever!
“I—” I started, but he kissed me again, softer this time, almost gentle. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine again.
“I know this is complicated,” he murmured. “I know this crosses every professional boundary. I know I’m your employer and you’re Megan’s nanny and this is—”
“Insane?” I supplied.
“Yes.”
“Completely inappropriate?”
“Yes.”
“Probably going to end in disaster?”
His mouth curved. “Possibly.”
“Then why?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, his voice rough and honest, and completely devastating. “Because you’ve been driving me insane for weeks. Because every time you walk into a room, I lose the ability to focus on anything else.”
Oh my God.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
“Because,” he continued, his hand cupping my face again, “I’ve spent my entire adult life being controlled and professional and doing the right thing. And for once, just once, I want to do what I actually want.”
His eyes held mine.
“I want you, Cate.”
I’m going to pass out. Actual fainting. Right here in the hallway. Gabriel Lyon is going to have to perform CPR on his nanny because she can’t handle him saying he wants her.
What a way to go.
“I—” I tried, but my voice was shaking. “Gabriel, I—”
“If you don’t want this,” he said quietly, “if you want to leave and pretend this never happened, I’ll understand. I’ll never mention it again. We’ll go back to being professional.”
Liar. We both know that’s a lie. There’s no going back from this.
“But if you stay,” he continued, his thumb stroking my cheek, “if you come with me right now, I need you to understand something.”
“What?” I whispered.
“This isn’t just tonight.”
What?
“This isn’t just physical. This isn’t just—” He paused, searching for words. “I don’t do casual, Cate. I don’t do temporary. If you stay, if we do this, I’m all in.”
Oh my God.
Oh my God, he’s serious. Gabriel Lyon—controlled, professional, emotionally distant Gabriel Lyon—is telling me he wants something real. With me. The disaster nanny who broke his daughter’s arm and can’t go five minutes without saying something embarrassing.
I looked up at him. At his dark eyes and his messed-up hair and his mouth that had just been kissing me like I was oxygen, and I realized something terrifying: I wanted this too.
Not just the kissing, though the kissing was definitely a factor.
Not just the physical attraction, though that was also very much a factor.
I wanted him. I wanted Gabriel Lyon—complicated, intense, secretly-soft-with-his-daughter Gabriel Lyon.
I wanted to stay. I wanted to see what happened next.
I wanted to stop running from things that scared me and actually take a chance on something that felt right.
Even if it were insane. Even if it were inappropriate.
Even if it was definitely going to be complicated.
Fuck it.
“Okay,” I whispered.
His eyes widened slightly. “Okay?”
“I’ll stay.”
For a moment, he just stared at me, like he couldn’t quite believe what I’d said.
Then his mouth curved into a smile. A real smile, not the almost-smile or the hint-of-amusement smile, but an actual, genuine, devastating smile that made my heart do a full gymnastics routine.
“Come with me,” he murmured, taking my hand. And before I could second-guess myself. Before I could spiral into anxiety about all the ways this could go wrong, he led me down the hallway.
Away from Megan’s room.
Toward his... Oh my God.
This is happening. This is actually happening.
I’m going to Gabriel Lyon’s bedroom. I’m going to—Oh God, I’m definitely going to say something embarrassing.
Or do something embarrassing. Or both. Probably both.
Maybe I should warn him? “Hey, just so you know, I’m a disaster and I’m probably going to ruin this somehow. ”
No. No, don’t say that. That’s not sexy. That’s the opposite of sexy.
Just—just try to be normal. Try to be a normal person who does normal things like going to her boss’s bedroom after he kisses her in the hallway.
Totally normal.
Completely normal.
This is fine.
We reached his door, and he paused, his hand on the handle.
He turned to look at me, his expression serious.
“Last chance,” he said quietly. “If you want to change your mind.”
“I don’t,” I interrupted, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounded.
Okay, that’s a lie. My voice was definitely not steady. But at least I got the words out.
His eyes searched mine for a moment, and then he opened the door.
And led me inside.
The door closed behind us with a soft click, and suddenly we were alone.
In Gabriel Lyon’s bedroom.
Oh my God.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
This is real. This is actually real.
I’m in Gabriel Lyon’s bedroom, and he’s looking at me like—like—He crossed the distance between us in two steps, his hands coming up to frame my face, and kissed me again.
Slower this time. Deeper. Like he had all the time in the world, and he was going to use every second of it to completely undo me.
Mission accomplished.
I am officially undone.
Completely, utterly, devastatingly undone.
My hands found his chest again, fingers curling into his shirt, and I kissed him back with everything I had.
All the want I’d been trying to suppress.
All the desire I’d been pretending didn’t exist.
All the feelings I’d been desperately trying to ignore.
I’m staying.
I’m staying with Gabriel Lyon.
And I have no idea what happens next.
But for once. Just once, I’m not going to overthink it.
I’m just going to—His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me closer, and I stopped thinking entirely.