Chapter
EIGHT
He woke from a shallow sleep, his breathing hard. Panic rustled in his chest. A few seconds passed before he realized he hadn’t woken from a replay of exploding bombs and gunfire, the rancid stench of blood.
No. Instead his head was filled with the smell of vanilla and flowers, underscored by the musky odor of sex. He turned. Mia lay turned away from him, her hair spread out like a fan on the pillow, her soft body wrapped around a pillow, her bare shoulder smooth and golden. Sleeping beauty.
He looked at the clock. Five a.m. He got out of bed, tugging on a pair of shorts. He used the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and splashed cold water on his face. Mia was still asleep when he emerged.
He went into the kitchen and cleaned the pans and dishes from the previous night before starting a pot of coffee. He sat at the desk and leafed through yesterday’s mail. Instinctively, his guard went up at the sight of an envelope with his name and address written in scrawly black writing. He tore it open and pulled out a piece of paper.
Saw you on TV telling a fucking reporter about the “road closures” and “security” for the fucking wedding. One word for you and Stone. BOOM.
Gavin set the letter and envelope aside to give to the police. The threat was one he’d heard before. But he didn’t like that the stalker knew his home address. That was information he guarded fiercely.
“Morning.”
He turned from his desk. Mia stood in the kitchen doorway, wearing his button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The shirt fell almost to her knees. Her feet were bare, her hair a tangled mess around her shoulders. He wanted to eat her up.
“Morning. You didn’t leave.”
“You told me to stay.” She approached, her footsteps silent on the tile floor. “Besides, you drove me here, remember? I have no way of getting home.”
He grasped her hips, pulling her onto his lap. She curled against him like a warm kitten, drawing her legs up and resting her head against his shoulder.
“Now who’s trapping who?” She pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.
His blood thickened. A possessive part of him did want to trap her. Keep her here all to himself, a princess in a tower. Only one key. In his pocket.
“I’ll make you breakfast.” He patted her thigh. “Then I need to get ready for work.”
“Yeah.” She sighed, her breath brushing his neck. “I should go home and change.”
She eased herself off his lap. A rush of cold air filled the empty space she’d left.
“You don’t have to cook anything.” She poured a cup of coffee from the pot. “I’ll grab something on the way to work.”
“Fast food?” He shook his head and took a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. “No. This will take less than ten minutes.”
She sipped the coffee and made a face. “What is this?”
“Coffee.”
“This,” she pointed at the mug, “is not coffee.”
He indicated the can of ground coffee sitting beside the pot.
She took another experimental sip. “It tastes terrible.”
“Sorry.” Gavin cracked eggs into a bowl. Though his apology was flippant, he experienced an actual pang of regret that he couldn’t offer her one of her ridiculous caramel-chocolate concoctions loaded with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles.
“Do you have any milk and sugar?” Mia asked.
“No.” But the next time she stayed over, he would. And there would definitely be a next time.
“Do you even eat sugar?” she asked.
“Not if I can help it. Sit down.”
“You like ordering people around, don’t you?”
“I like ordering you around. I also like taking care of you.”
“Hmm.” The noise rumbled in her throat like a purr. “I definitely like being taken care of by you. Maybe I even like it a little when you order me around.”
“Then why aren’t you sitting down?”
She rolled her eyes, her mouth curving with amusement, but sat at the counter. He cooked up a spinach omelet, put bread in the toaster, and sliced strawberries. A few minutes later, he piled a plate with the food and set it in front of her.
“You’re really into eating healthy.” She took a bite of the omelet, eyeing his chest. “And working out.”
He shrugged. “I had to be strong to deal with my father. Figured out early on that working out and eating well helped me both mentally and physically.”
“Is that why you’re kind of on my case about it?”
“Your nutrition needs work.” He eyed her chest in return, his blood heating at the sight of her breasts rounding the fabric of the shirt. “But there’s not a damned thing wrong with your body.”
She flashed him a smile. He could get addicted to her smile. Hell, he already was. He leaned his elbows on the counter, his hand around his coffee mug.
“I’ll review all the new plans for the wedding today and implement the necessary security changes,” he said, in an attempt to remember his main goal. “I want to do two walkthroughs of the venue, one this week and one the day before the wedding.”
“I’m meeting the caterer at the villa tomorrow at ten,” Mia said. “She wants to see where she’ll set up and the layout of the room.”
“I’ll be there.”
He waited for her to finish eating before he headed back to shower, shave, and dress. Tempted though he was to bring her into the shower with him, he had work to do. Not that that made it any easier to drive her back to her car.
The morning sun burned through the gray layer of ocean fog as he drove back to Indigo Bay. He stopped at an upscale coffeehouse, telling Mia to wait in the SUV before he went inside. He returned with a lidded, cardboard cup and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” She took the cup.
“Something called a caramel macchiato with chocolate syrup and extra whipped cream.” Gavin started the car and headed toward downtown. “It’s not your specialty drink, but the girl at the counter said it’s good.”
“Barista,” Mia said, a smile in her voice.
“What?”
“The girl at the counter of a coffeehouse is called a barista.”
“Well, she said it’s good.”
Mia pried off the lid and took a sip, then made one of those happy little noises in the back of her throat. He was starting to lov… really like the sounds she made.
“It’s delicious,” she said. “Thank you.”
He shrugged off her thanks, though her smile and evident pleasure made him feel like he’d just won the lottery. He tried to smother the feeling, knowing it would lead him nowhere good, as he parked behind her car and they got out.
He put all the wedding binders back in the trunk and slammed it shut, resting his hands on the top.
“So… thanks.” Mia tossed her purse into the front seat and set her coffee in the cup holder. “I mean, that was fun.”
Fun. Not a word he’d have used, even if it was true. Fun implied a one-time thing or a date she’d have with a college boy. This wasn’t a one-time thing, or even two. No fucking way.
She put her hand on the open door, shifting her weight uncertainly to one foot. For all her sassy confidence, she had spells of hesitation and self-consciousness that showed in her fidgety movements.
He suspected it was a result of her hard shift from the sheltered ivory tower of academia back to mundane reality. She’d been lauded and admired in college, which was likely also why she’d turned up her flirtations to the tenth degree after graduation. If she could no longer be admired for her academic abilities, she’d draw attention with her looks and coyness.
He approached her, sliding his hand around the back of her neck. She parted her lips in expectation of a kiss.
“I’ll be finished with work around nine,” he said. “Wait for me at your place.”
She arched an eyebrow in challenge. “I might have plans tonight, you know.”
“Cancel them.”
She crossed her arms and gave him a mutinous look, as if she wanted to find out what he’d do if she resisted. And he wanted to show her, but this wasn’t the time.
He narrowed his eyes sternly. “I mean it.”
She grinned. “‘Anybody want a peanut?’”
“What?”
Mia’s expression shifted to one of disbelief. “You’re kidding. Vizzini and Fezzik?”
“What are you talking about?” And how had she gotten him off-topic?
She threw up her hands in exasperation. “The Princess Bride. Haven’t you ever seen it?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“If you had, you’d remember the rhyming,” Mia said. “You’d remember everything. To blave, you killed my father, is this a kissing book, inconceivable—”
Gavin grasped her shoulders, hauling her against him. He planted a swift, hard kiss on her lips.
“Enough,” he said. “I’ll be at your place tonight. And at noon, I want you to text me a list of five things you’re good at that aren’t a result of your academic success. And that have nothing to do with flipping your hair or your knowledge of The Princess Bride.”
“Five things I’m good at?” Mia blinked. “Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“What for?”
He fisted his hand in her hair and gently tugged. “So we’ll both know.”
She gave a short laugh. “Like I said… strangest man I’ve ever met.”
“Noon.” He stepped away from her.
She got into the car, pushing the key into the ignition.
“But you were right,” she admitted. “You can definitely make me come hard enough to see stars. Galaxies of them.”
She tossed him a smile, flipped her hair back, and drove off. He watched her until her car rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.