Chapter Thirty-Five
GAbrIEL
The sound of the alarm I’d set on my phone broke through the quiet, dragging me from the kind of deep sleep I rarely enjoyed. Beside me, Charlotte stirred at the noise, her body shifting against mine. I silenced the intrusion quickly. I didn’t want to spoil the moment.
For a long breath, I simply held her there with her back tucked against my chest, the soft rhythm of her breathing syncing with mine. The early light slipped through the curtains and caught on the strands of her hair which had fallen loose against the pillow.
I’d never been much on snuggling. It always felt too intimate, too exposing. But now? With her, the contact grounded me. Her warmth seeped into my skin, and instead of feeling trapped, I felt anchored.
I pressed my face into her shoulder, breathing her in. She made a soft sound, one landing somewhere between a sigh and a hum, hitting me low and deep.
Her fingers brushed over my forearm, light and unthinking, but warmth climbed into my chest. I wanted to tell her all the things left unsaid last night, but the words would come out as too much, too soon. And she’d pull away.
So instead, I shifted, my hand tracing the curve of her hip, slow and deliberate. She drew in a breath but didn’t move. My lips found the back of her neck, tasting her skin, soft and still warm from sleep.
Her head tilted slightly. It was a silent invitation that erased whatever restraint I had left. My hand slid up her stomach, over the steady rise and fall of her breath, until I could feel the flutter of her pulse beneath my thumb.
She shifted in my arms, turning toward me, her eyes still heavy with sleep but searching. “What time is it?” she murmured, voice low and rough around the edges.
“Early,” I answered, my hand still resting on her waist.
“We have a plane to catch home.”
“Yeah.” But neither of us moved.
Her gaze flicked down to my mouth, and that small, involuntary glance undid me. I leaned in, brushing my lips over hers, barely a touch, testing, asking.
“I have morning breath,” she whispered between closed lips.
“Good. Me, too.”
She answered by closing the distance, fingers sliding up to my neck, pulling me closer.
The kiss deepened, slow at first, languid, until it wasn’t. Until it fully dissolved into heat. My hand moved lower, over the curve of her hip, down her thigh, drawing her closer until there was no space left to breathe, let alone think.
She broke the kiss long enough to murmur, “We have to make this quick if we want to catch our flight.”
“This has become a terrible habit,” I grumbled. Not wanting to rush this, I let my lips trace the edge of her jaw.
“I know, but I have meetings in the office when I return.”
Same. But right about now I didn’t want to be reminded of them. “Fine, but we make time this weekend when we can have hours together because this isn’t cutting it.”
She shivered in response.
I rolled her gently onto her back, bracing a hand beside her head. For a heartbeat, I simply stared at her with hair tousled against the pillow, her eyes dark with something feeling a hell of a lot like trust. At least the beginning of it.
The words I wanted to confess were too big for the space between us, so I endeavored to show her instead.
Traveling south, I started by lavishing attention on both of her breasts, mentally promising I’d revisit each of them another time when I didn’t have to rush.
“Gabe….” she gasped when my fingers found her wet and ready. “I wish we had more time.”
“I promise to make this quick.”
We boarded our flight to San Diego with only minutes to spare, both of us slipping back into work mode as if I hadn’t spent the night in her bed and made her come this morning.
The woman with the assigned seat next to Charlotte in first class fussed with her carry-on, and I happily assisted her in lifting it up into the overhead space. Before I could second-guess it, I offered a smile and a quiet, “Mind switching seats?”
She agreed easily, and I slid into place beside Charlotte.
Her brows lifted. “What are you doing?”
I buckled in, perfectly at ease. “Sitting next to my boss on the plane so we can discuss work before we get into the office.”
Her lips quirked enough to hint at amusement.
That was the thing about Charlotte. Every reaction had to be earned. And for reasons I didn’t want to dissect too closely, I liked earning them.
After takeoff, I turned in my seat, letting my shoulder angle toward her, so I could catch the delicate line of her profile as she worked on her iPad.
“What time is Austin’s game tomorrow?”
“Ten o’clock. I’ll send you the address of the field.”
“Thanks. I’m looking forward to seeing him play. You want to come over for dinner tonight?” The words slipped out before I could dress them up as something safer.
Her head turned, her eyes narrowing. “Like a date?”
“Yes. I’ll even cook. Don’t get too excited, though.
My culinary repertoire consists of exactly one dish.
Hardly Michelin-star-worthy, but my mom swears learning at least one pasta dish is my crowning achievement, so at least she can be proud I learned something in the kitchen. Spoiler alert, it’s baked ziti.”
Her lips twitched but then flattened again. “It’s not a good idea.”
“It’s a great idea.” I wanted a night where things could be proactive instead of reactive. Where we could drink wine, eat dinner, and just enjoy each other’s company.
“It might be a better idea to wait.”
I told myself I understood her hesitation. Hell, after how her ex had weaponized her ambition, she had every right to be on her guard. But knowing her reasons didn’t make it sting any less. “Or we could continue to keep work and personal separate.”
“Right, because we’re doing such a great job of it.”
“There have been some gray areas, sure. But know that nothing changes,” I reminded her, my voice low, steady. “Not for me. No matter how the decision falls.” I let the words hang, watching her throat work as she swallowed.
She sighed, clearly uncomfortable in having this whispered conversation. “I’ve heard the owners are flying into town next week for the final round of interviews.”
“Yes. I’ve heard the same. My guess is we’ll know the decision in the next two weeks.”
I’d never been so anxious to have time go by quickly.
I leaned closer, close enough that the warmth of her skin brushed against the edge of my breath. God, I wanted to taste her again. “Two weeks is too damn long to wait. Come over tonight after work. I’ll make dinner. And…maybe you should pack a bag. Stay the night.”
So much for exerting patience. I was pushing and couldn’t help myself.
Her lips pursed. “Do women ever tell you no?”
A chuckle rumbled in my chest. “My boss says it quite often, actually.”
Her lips twitched. “She sounds like a smart woman.”
“The smartest. Which is why she says yes when she knows it matters.”
For a heartbeat it appeared she might object, and remind me again of rules and boundaries. Instead, she whispered, “Okay. Fine. I’ll come over tonight.”