Gwynneth Ever After (20 page)

“Oh, Gwynneth,” he gasped, hands resting on knees, “you have no idea!”

In spite of her absolute mortification, the corners of her mouth twitched in response. She clamped her lips together, refusing to give in to the impulse. “That was dirty pool.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. Really.”

The apology lost something in the shaking of his shoulders.

As she waited for Gareth to pull himself together, Nicholas padded out to join them again.

“Did I miss it?” he asked.

“Miss what, sweetie?” Gwyn asked. She rolled her eyes at Gareth’s exaggerated attempt at seriousness, and then gave in to her reluctant grin. Well, at least as a tension breaker, Katie’s words had certainly been effective.

“The kiss.”

Her smile dropped into oblivion.

Gareth stepped neatly into her stunned silence to rescue her. “I thought you said kissing was gross.”

“That’s what Katie says,” Nicholas informed him. “I wanted to see for myself.”

“I see.” Gareth quirked an amused eyebrow at Gwyn, waiting for her response.

“I don’t think you need to see anything except your movie right now, Nicholas,” Gwyn managed in spite of the strangulation going on in her throat. “Off you go.”

Nicholas’ feet dragged with reluctance, but he did as instructed. In the silence of the little boy’s departure, Gareth cleared his throat.

“So,” he said. “You growl, do you?”

Gwyn’s toes blushed again.

Chapter 27

 
Gwyn kissed the top of Katie’s head, tucked the covers around her, and tiptoed from the room. She pausing to listen at Maggie and Nicholas’ door for a moment, she satisfied herself that the breathing within was deep and even, and then sat down on the top stair to debate her next move.

Next
move? Who was she trying to kid? She still hadn’t near recovered from her last one. Gareth’s blunt announcement that he wanted more than friendship, while not completely unexpected, had been shocking enough, but her agreement – her instant, unguarded, unequivocal agreement...

She dropped her face into her hands and stifled a moan. Damn Sandy and her romantic ideas! What had she been thinking? Nothing had changed since Thursday night – if anything, the way her kids had matter-of-factly absorbed him into the family dynamics this evening had underscored, a hundred times over, the danger posed to their hearts if this continued. They were already head-over-heels about the man she’d allowed into their lives, and who could blame them? He was so good with them. Patient, fun. He was a natural.

She had to face it: even if she could carry off a casual affair with Gareth, the kids wouldn’t escape entirely unscathed. Not anymore. Which meant she needed to shift into damage control mode and try to keep things from getting any –
 

“Are you planning to sit there all night?”

At Gareth’s gentle, amused tone, Gwyn’s heart missed several beats, completed a series of impossible acrobatic flips, and then began hammering so loudly that he was sure to hear.

Lord, she wouldn’t have been surprised if the neighbors heard.

She left her face in her hands. “Maybe,” she mumbled.

He chuckled, and the warm sound tingled through her. She peered between her fingers. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, thick, dark hair skimming past his shoulders, sweater and well-worn jeans molding to contours that tugged her imagination in tantalizing directions...

And his jacket in his hand.

Surprise made her hands drop to her lap. “You’re leaving?”

Gareth folded his arms and leaned against the stair rail. “I have a plane to catch,” he reminded her.

Of course. She grappled with a tiny wash of relief – and a tidal wave of disappointment.
 

“But that’s not the only reason.”

It wasn’t?

His lips quirked. “Well?”

“What?”

“Don’t you want to know what the other reason is?”

She shook her head.

“Chicken.”

Cluck.

“Will you at least come and say goodnight?”

Not at all sure whether the note underlying the invitation was one of threat or promise, Gwyn grasped the banister and pulled herself to her feet. She descended toward him and, when he didn’t move to let her pass, paused one stair up, eye-level with dark, smoldering fire and inches from a potent male aura. Her world tipped sideways.

“I think you should,” he said.

She gripped the handrail until the ache in her knuckles remained her only link to reality. She thought she should, too, but it might be prudent to ensure they were talking about the same thing.

“Should what?”

“Ask why else I’m leaving.”

She gulped for air. She absolutely didn’t want to know because it was for the best and reasons didn’t matter. They couldn’t matter. But when she tried to deny him, she managed only a thread of a whisper, a single word. “Why?”
 

Strong, heated fingers closed over hers, slid against them, twined with them.

“Because if I don’t leave now, I won’t leave at all.” His thumb stroked her wrist, playing havoc with her pulse. “Because, besides missing my plane and breaking my contract, I’d still be here in the morning when your kids woke up, and you’d hate both of us if that happened. And because I respect you – and them - too much to do that to you.”

Gwyn squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on his words rather than his touch.
Respect...kids.
She felt certain the words held importance, but she couldn’t seem to get past the warm, pulsing ache spreading through her body.

“Damn it, Gwynn,” Gareth swore in her ear.

He’d moved closer. Close enough that his scent filled her senses to overflowing, and his hair brushed her cheek when she moved her head, and...

“You’re not helping,” he muttered.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Wh-what?”

“I said,
you’re not helping
,” he grated.

With a shock, Gwyn realized he hadn’t been the one to move after all. Somehow her own feet had shuffled forward, and now she teetered on the edge of the step, her free hand resting against his shoulder for balance. Her face flamed. She dropped her hand and stepped back.

“I’m sorry – ”

He shook his head, his smile made tight by the tension in his jaw. “Don’t be. I’m just a bit rusty at this honorable thing. Which brings us to the next discussion.”

Gwyn would have liked to retreat a few more steps before she tried to discuss anything with him, but he still held her hand captive. With his thumb continuing to travel its hypnotic path over her wrist, she couldn’t muster the will to pull away. She cleared her throat. “What discussion would that be?”

“The one where we decide what we do now. You see, much as I’m enjoying Goldfish soup and doing chicken pox dot-to-dots, I’m afraid those pursuits still fall under the heading of friendship.” He lifted her hand in his, turned it over in his grasp, and traced a finger across her palm. “I meant what I said about wanting more than that from you, Gwyn, and I don’t know how long honor will hold out.”

Nothing on earth could have persuaded her to meet his gaze at that moment.

Gareth lifted his other hand to push a strand of hair away from her face. “Come away with me.”

Except maybe that.

Her startled gaze flew to his.
Yes
, she wanted to say.
Oh, yes.

“Away?” she actually managed.

“Just for the weekend. We’ll go somewhere quiet, just the two of us. Somewhere we won’t be interr – ”

“
Now
are you going to kiss?” Nicholas asked from above them, his voice a study in exaggerated patience.

Gareth’s fingers tangled in her hair. Leaning his forehead against hers, he heaved a pained sigh, but his grin belied his amusement.

“I rest my case,” he said.

Then, before she could do more than brace herself to move away and confront her son about being out of bed, he raised his head again. Mischief danced in his eyes.

“Do you suppose that if we give him what he wants, he’ll be satisfied?”
 

The suggestion startled her. “I – I – ”

“I thought so, too.” His gaze holding hers, he raised his voice. “Yes, Nicholas,” he said, “now we’re going to kiss.”

Gwyn tried her demurral again. “I – I don’t think...”

He ignored her. His hand slipped beneath her hair and cupped her neck, and she sucked in a quick breath. He stroked his thumb along the curve of her jaw, his focus shifting to her mouth. Protest died on her lips.

And then he kissed her. A gentle, unhurried kiss. A kiss that reached inside to touch her in astonishing ways. A kiss that deepened, hungered, and warmed every corner of her –
 

“It’s not
that
gross!” Nicholas yelled, presumably at his sister in her bedroom. Then, in a cheerful, only somewhat quieter voice, he called over the upstairs railing, “Thanks, Gareth. You can stop now.”
 

Bare feet slapped against the wood floor as he headed back to bed.

Gareth’s mouth stilled against Gwyn’s. It compressed. His shoulders began to shake under her hands and she choked back a slightly hysterical, answering giggle. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers once more.

“On that note,” he said, his voice vibrating with laughter, “I think I’d better leave.”

It took a concentrated effort for Gwyn to release her grip on the thick knit of his sweater. She nodded, stepping away and folding her arms across herself. Gareth caught her hands and drew her down from her step to stand in front of him on the landing.

“Will you think about it?” he asked, his voice gruff.

Gwyn didn’t need to ask him what he meant. And she figured it was a pretty safe bet that she would think of little else. She nodded again.

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Gareth’s mouth. “Lost your voice, have you?”

And her sanity, too, apparently.

A chuckle rumbled through him. “I’ll take that as a yes – and as a compliment.” He released her hands and picked up his coat from the rail. “I’ll call you from L.A.”

Chapter 28

He called on Wednesday.

It was two-thirty in the morning, and Gwyn had been tossing and turning for the last three hours without achieving anything that neared a sleep-like state. Not that she really expected to, given her recent track record. She scowled at the clock beside her bed, flounced onto her back, and debated the idea of doing the laundry – or maybe scrubbing the kitchen floor. Both activities would be infinitely more productive than continuing to pretend she might rest.

The phone’s sudden shrill nearly had her clinging to the ceiling. She rolled over and grabbed for the instrument.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. Did I wake you?” Rich, dark tones washed over her, velvet-smooth.

Gwyn clutched at the duvet and dragged it up to her chin. Her heart thudded against its confines. She swallowed. Cleared her throat. Managed a barely coherent, “No. I was awake.”

“Me too.”

Silence.

She wiped sweaty palms against the duvet, one at a time.

“I miss you,” he said.

She squeezed her eyes shut and coached herself through the forgotten art of breathing.
Inhale...exhale...
 
                                               

Gareth’s voice deepened, roughened. “Tell me you’re suffering as much as I am.”

“I - uh - ”

“The truth.”

The ache that had started in her belly spread relentlessly outward. He wanted the truth. But how could she tell him something she still hadn’t decided to acknowledge?

“Gwyn?” the deep voice prompted. The edge to it startled her, its rawness echoing her own state.

“I’m here.”

“And?”

She exhaled shakily and tightened her fingers around the receiver. “And I’m suffering, too,” she whispered.
 

He muttered something she didn’t catch.
 

“Pardon?”

“I said
good.
No one should have to go through this kind of misery alone.”

She heard him take a deep breath, and imagined him running an impatient hand through his dark hair. The ache inside her softened and warmed. Lord, she’d never get to sleep now.

“I’ve wanted to call you both nights I’ve been here,” Gareth said, “but I’ve been getting back to the hotel after midnight, and I didn’t want to wake you by calling so late.”

“And tonight?”

“I couldn’t wait anymore. Should I apologize?”

“No.”

“Good. I’m pushing Damon to finish things up as fast as possible so I can catch the early flight out on Friday morning.” He paused. “Have you thought about the weekend?”

Every waking minute
.

“Yes.”

“Yes, you’ve thought about it, or – ?”