Gabe was watching Nic.

Again.

He was doing that a lot lately. So much so, he was beginning to wonder if he had a problem. It was Thursday night and it was getting late. She should be on her way home soon since it wasn’t like she lived around the corner.

Maybe he’d start bringing her here after work and then dropping her off on the way home. It would be safer that way. Smarter. He should definitely offer that to her.

He thought about what her father would think of that, and instead of cringing, he grinned at the thought.

Something . . . something had changed in Gabe after talking to Nic about Emma. As fucking cliché as it sounded, he felt lighter.

Lucian was right when he said that maybe Gabe needed to talk about Emma. The last couple of nights he actually slept the whole way through. Freaking miracle right there.

Nic was looking around, the corners of her lips turned down. Then her gaze swept up to the shelving against the back wall. Setting the bead and chisel aside, she rose, dusting her hands off.

“Is that the saw up there?” She pointed at the top shelf.

“Yeah. You need it?”

She crossed the room. “I can get it.”

Swallowing a laugh, he rose from where he sat. There was no way she was going to reach that shelf. Not when she was compact size basically.

But there she was, stretching up on the tips of her toes, straining for the handle of the saw as she gripped one of the lower shelves.

“You’re going to end up pulling that whole shelf down on you.” He walked over to her. “Here.” He reached around her at the same time she settled back on her feet.

Gabe didn’t know what happened.

One second he was reaching for the saw and then the next, his front was against her back as she stumbled into him.

“Whoa,” he said, his hand landing on her hip.

In an instant, the air around them seemed to spit fire. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them moved, and then Nic shifted, pressing her rear against him.

Sweet Jesus.

His jaw clenched as pure primal lust pounded through his veins. Did she do that on purpose? Hell if it mattered. He looked down at her, seeing her chest rise and fall heavily, straining against the front of her shirt. His head dipped and he inhaled deeply, catching the strawberry scent of hers.

Christ.

His body practically surrounded hers, but her mere closeness overpowered him. He should back off. He should definitely get his hand off her damn hip.

He didn’t do either of those things.

His thoughts clouded as the smallest shudder coursed through her. Gabe’s brain clicked off. His hand tightened on her hip as his arm flexed, tugged her back with just the slightest amount of pressure. Fuck. His blood caught fire. She fit perfectly against him. Better yet, she felt perfect against him.

Took no effort to picture himself spinning her around and bending her over the bench. Except nothing would be between them as he slipped his hand between her thighs and pounded into—

Holy fuck, that line of thought was not helping. At all. But could she feel him? How fucking hard he was against the cleft of her ass?

Then he felt her shiver. Full-bodied shiver. Her head turned to the side, and he waited for her to pull away or push him away. To do something. She didn’t. Nic stood there while her ass practically cradled his dick, letting him . . .

Letting him do what exactly?

Dry-hump her ass? Gabe swallowed a groan, because right about now that sounded amazing. And when was the last time he dry-humped a woman? Shit. When he was a teen? Hell, he knew there was a good chance he could come doing just that.

He felt her take her next breath. “Have you . . . got the saw yet?”

His eyes drifted shut. So, they were going to pretend like his dick wasn’t pressing against her ass? All right. He could do that. He could pretend. “Not yet.”

She placed her hands on the lower shelf, and yeah, he realized right then, he wouldn’t need to turn her around. He could make this work just as well. “Do you need help?”

Yeah, he needed help.

Primal instinct told him that she would let him do just about anything right then, and that instinct had nothing to do with their past. Not a damn thing.

Nic’s hips moved again, this time in the smallest damn circle, and he had to wonder if she was even aware she was doing it or what it was doing to him.

He needed to stop this before he fucking came in his jeans.

His hand tightened on her hip as he reached up, grabbing the saw off the top shelf. He let himself have one more moment, one more breath of the air she breathed, and then he started to act like he had at least an ounce of common decency left in him.

“Sorry,” he bit out, voice gruff as he backed off. “Lost my balance there.”

“It’s okay.” Her face was ten different shades of pink as she faced him. She lifted her hand. It trembled. “Thank you.”

He nodded as he turned and made his way back to the workbench. Sitting wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be doing, but that’s what he did.

Fuck.

He couldn’t even pretend anymore—couldn’t lie to himself.

It wasn’t his dry spell that had him rocking a hard-on every time he was near Nic. It was her.

His gaze found its way to her.

Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, she glanced over and sent him a small, tentative smile as her fingers around the saw remained steady.

The little smile went straight to his cock.

He didn’t smile back. He was beyond that. His entire body was taut and strained. He wanted her. Under him. On him. In front of him. On her knees. And with his head between her thighs. He wanted her every which way he could think and damn, he had an active imagination.

Lust, pure and simple, was a powerful drug.

He watched her go back to carving the tiny piece of wood. Would he go down that road with her?

Gabe didn’t need to really ask himself that.

He already knew the answer.

Later that night, Nikki lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Her body and mind were traitorous bitches, replaying the evening over and over again in her head.

My God, what had happened between them?

Something had. There was no denying what she felt pressed against her rear.

Her stomach twisted and lower, much lower, she clenched as she drew her legs up, bending at the knees.

Hours later and Nikki could still feel his hand on her hip. It was like he’d branded her with his touch. And the way his hand tightened and pulled her back?

“God,” she whispered, pressing her thighs together. That did nothing to alleviate the ache building between her thighs. It actually made it worse. So much worse.

Gabe had to have known what he was doing. There was no way. Just like she’d known what she had been allowing by standing there, letting him press into her.

They both pretended like nothing was happening, but he’d wanted her. She could feel that. And oh Lordy Lord, as reckless and dumb as it made her, she wanted him still.

Badly.

Except now she at least had a working knowledge of what wanting him entailed. She might’ve only had sex with him and Calvin, but she knew what it could feel like.

The tips of her breasts hardened as she closed her eyes. Her thoughts got away from her, and she was back in that workshop with Gabe, all big and strong, standing behind her, pressing into her.

What if he’d pushed on her back, bending her over? Nikki sucked in a shallow breath. Would she have stopped him? She knew the answer as her hand slipped between the covers tangled at her waist. She wouldn’t have stopped him. She would’ve spread her legs, just as she was doing now, giving him more access to do . . . to do whatever he wanted.

Her fingers inched under the band of her bottoms. She was wet. She already knew that as she touched herself. She’d been so wet just standing in front of him tonight, letting him . . .

Nikki’s jaw clenched as she slipped a finger inside and pressed her palm against her most sensitive part.

Just a fantasy.

What she was doing meant nothing and she knew that there wasn’t anything real between them, not when he was in love with a woman who was no longer here.

Just a fantasy.

In her mind, it was Gabe’s hand replacing hers. It was his hand she was thrusting against, his fingers she was clenching around as he stood behind her, pressing his hardness into her as he worked her with his hand.

It didn’t take long.

Muscles tightened and tension coiled deep in her core. Her legs locked as her fingers pumped faster and faster. She twisted, pressing her face into her pillow as she came.

Panting, she fell back against the mattress and opened her eyes. Moments passed as she pulled her hand away. Her legs were limp, but she still felt . . . empty.

She exhaled slowly. A part of her couldn’t believe she just did that. Not like it was her first time, but she never let herself picture Gabe. Not after that night.

But it was just a fantasy and fantasies were okay. They were safe. Healthy even. Fantasies weren’t real.