Salvation (25 page)

His frown turned into a scowl. “Don’t get your hopes up. Besides, I was hardly poetic.”

“Yes, you were.” It was so sweet and Gideon-like that he was embarrassed by my teasing. “You called me the light that shines on the dark places of your soul. You don’t think I’m going to forget that, do you?”

“Probably best that you do,” he muttered. “I was pushed into it by a crisis situation. No need to dwell on it.”

I laughed out loud and leaned down to kiss him. “I’m definitely going to dwell on it. It’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.”

He grumbled under his breath.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” It was true, and I could see that he knew it was true, despite my teasing tone.

He combed his fingers through my hair and cupped the back of my skull. “I’m always good in a crisis.”

I laughed again and suddenly realized that the anxious heaviness I’d been carrying around with me for the last several weeks had completely disappeared. Everything wasn’t better, but at least that much was gone.

I felt almost free, and I gave him a hug of pure joy. “You
are
good in a crisis.”

He returned my hug, and I knew he felt just as relieved, as free as I did. But he grumbled, “You’re not going to let me forget that line, are you?”

“Nope. Never. I’ll be reminding you of it when we’re old and gray, along with those lectures about getting knee surgery when you need it.”

He laughed and kissed my hair. “As long as we’re still together when we’re old and gray, then I can live with it.”

A
few weeks after that, I was lying in bed on a Monday morning, trying to find the energy to get up.

Gideon had already gotten up, since he needed to be at work a half-hour before I did, but I hadn’t managed to make myself move. I really needed to get going, since we’d spent the night at my cottage, so it would take almost an hour to get into the city.

He was in the shower now, but as soon as he was out, I needed get up. Or, if I skipped washing my hair today, I could lie in bed ten minutes longer.

Maybe I would do that. I could pull it back into a braid or something.

I heard my hair dryer going from the bathroom. Gideon only ever used it a minute and then left his hair to air dry the rest of the way. It was so thick there wasn’t much he could do with it anyway except keep it short.

He walked into the room sooner than I was hoping, wearing nothing but a towel. He glanced over, saw that I was awake, and gave me a half-smile. “You’re going to have to hurry.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, sticking my tongue out at him. “I can wait ten more minutes.”

“Planning to get a lot of sleeping done in those ten minutes?” He was chuckling softly as he went over and opened the blinds, letting the morning sunlight into the room.

I liked the sunlight in the morning, so this was no cause for complaint. “I’m tired and I don’t want to move.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Didn’t you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I slept fine.” I still occasionally had nightmares, but they had gotten significantly less frequent. Dr. Jones said it was because I was able to face the memory head-on now instead of pushing it away where it had no choice but to come out fighting. Whatever the reason, I slept through the night a lot more often than I used to. “But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump out of bed. If you were a really good boyfriend, you’d go get me a cup of coffee.”

He rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was hiding a smile when he left the room again, muttering under-the-breath complaints about always catering to the whims of his girlfriend.

He came back with two cups of coffee.

“Thank you. You’re an excellent boyfriend.” I sat up to take mine.

“Glad to hear it.” He smiled at me, and something about the nature of his smile made me raise my hands to check my hair.

It was a frizzy mess, so I tried to smooth it down.

He’d been taking a long sip of coffee, but he shook his head at my attempts. “Didn’t do any good at all.”

“You shouldn’t laugh at me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He was grinning when he dropped his towel and turned around to open the drawer where he kept spare clothes, since he stayed over here a lot.

I had a very nice time drinking my coffee and enjoying the view of his tight, bare butt and his strong legs. He was pulling on his underwear when he said, “My folks want us to come visit on the twentieth instead of the thirteenth.”

“Why is that? I thought it was all set.”

“It was. But I guess they’re having a strawberry festival in town on the weekend of the twentieth, so they thought it would be fun if we were there for that.”

I raised my eyebrows. “A strawberry festival?”

He shrugged and pulled on the pair of trousers that went with the suit draped over the dresser. “It’s a small town. It’s a momentous occasion.”

“The strawberry festival or meeting me?”

He flashed a quick smile. “Both. They’re actually really excited about meeting you. We should be prepared for them to say some things that might be embarrassing, like asking how many babies we’re thinking about having. I think they were afraid I’d never settle down, and now it’s all they ask about.”

“I guess that’s understandable.” I’d almost finished my coffee, so I set it down on the nightstand. “So you were pretty wild before you met me, huh?”

“Why would you say that?” He’d picked up his socks, but he stopped with a frown.

“Well, you said your parents thought you’d never settle down, so I figure you must have been some sort of player.”

He narrowed his eyes and didn’t answer.

I giggled at his expression. “All right. I’ll try to believe you weren’t a player.”

“So the twentieth would work?”

“Yeah, I think s—” I broke off as I remembered. “Shit, no. We can’t do that weekend. The twenty-first is my dad’s birthday.”

His expression changed, the way it always did when I mentioned my dad. Nothing obvious. Just an automatic attempt to suppress lingering resentment.

“I have to have dinner with him on his birthday, Gideon. I was actually hoping you might come with us.”

“I’ll come with you. But can’t we tell him we’re out of town that weekend and celebrate his birthday a couple of days early or late? He’s always busy when you need him, so I don’t know why—”

“It’s his birthday. I’m not going to blow him off. I’m sorry your parents will be disappointed, but I can’t.” I felt my previous good mood lowering and studied Gideon’s face, not liking the building tension in his shoulders and expression.

“Okay.” He sat down to pull on his socks.

“It’s not a case of my dad versus your parents, Gideon. I’ll cancel anything else to go visit them on any weekend except that one.”

“I said okay.”

“But you don’t mean it. I know my dad is kind of a flop in the parent department, particular when compared to your mom and dad. But he’s all I have.” When I saw him open his mouth to object, I spoke over him. “He’s the only parent I have.”

“I know he is. I’ll tell my folks we can’t do that weekend.”

He was obviously making an effort to clear his expression, but I could see the tension remaining in his shoulders.

“You’ve got to forgive him eventually,” I said softly.

He jerked his head toward me, but his tone was almost gentle when he replied, “No, I really don’t.”

“It wasn’t his fault, and it’s not fair to act like it was. He had no idea I would suffer consequences for his business deal.”

“When you get involved with Albanian gangsters—”

“He didn’t know they were involved! It was an ethically dubious deal, but he had no idea about the connections. I’m never going to give him a t-shirt that says ‘Number 1 Dad,’ but he never would have done that.”

Gideon sighed hoarsely and then finished the last of his coffee. “I realize that. I do. But I’m always going to have trouble forgiving anyone who does something to get you hurt.”

The sentiment was actually kind of sweet. “I know. But he’s always going to be my dad, so you’ve got to learn to deal with him.”

“Have I ever been less than polite to him?”

“Well,” I began, thinking about some of the cool glares he’d aimed at my dad on the few occasions they’d been in the same room.

“I’ll be polite to him,” Gideon said, standing up. “I’ll do my best to be nice to him. But I’m not sure I’ll ever get to the point of not being angry with him.”

I let out a breath. “Okay. Just do the best you can. So you’ll come to his birthday dinner?”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll buy him a present?”

“I’ll let you buy him a present from me.”

“And your parents won’t be too upset about us missing the strawberry festival?”

“They’ll get over it.”

This was the best I could hope for, so I nodded. Then I glanced at the clock and saw how late it was.

I groaned and collapsed back onto the bed.

“You better get moving,” Gideon said, glancing over at me as he picked up his t-shirt. “I’m telling you right now—your hair is going to need a lot of work.”

I huffed indignantly, but his eyes were teasing again. So I just lay on the bed and watched him.

His body was so gorgeous—like a Greek god, like a work of art—with smooth lines, rippling contours, and strength in even the slightest of movements. The dark tattoos broke the fair, classic beauty of his skin, bleak reminders of how far into the shadows he’d ventured. The contrast was startling, no matter how often I saw it. And looking at him now it felt like a tangible symbol of the man he really was.

The whole man—brave and stubborn and scarred and tender.

All of a sudden, I was filled with so much affection, possessiveness, and bone-deep knowledge that it was impossible for me to hold it in.

“I love you,” I burst out, sprawled out on the bed with my messy hair spread out around my face—no doubt unattractively.

He had his arms in the t-shirt and had been about to pull it on over his head, but he whirled around at my words. He stood there staring with his t-shirt half on.

“I love you,” I repeated, sitting up in the bed. “I...I just wanted you to know. In case you don’t already, I mean.”

He dropped his t-shirt on the floor and strode over to sit on the edge of the bed beside me. “Really?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah.”

“And you decided to tell me this now, when we’re running late for work after having an argument.”

I choked on a laugh. “Sorry. It just had to be said.” I dropped my eyes, a little shyly. “I mean, you knew already, didn’t you?”

“I thought maybe...I hoped so. But I didn’t know if you were ready for it yet.” I could see a matching swell of feeling in his own eyes, in his own face, and I was suddenly so happy I was afraid I might just explode.

“I
am
ready for it. Now. I love you so much, Gideon Walker.” I threw my arms around him. “What do you have to say about that?”

He swung me around so I was lying on the bed and he was on top of me. He propped himself up with one arm and cupped my cheek with the other hand. “I have to say that I love you too.”

I grinned up at him stupidly. “I’m glad.”

He leaned down to kiss me sweetly, but his voice was dry when he drawled, “You could at least pretend to be more surprised by my declaration of love.”

Of course, I wasn’t surprised. He’d shown me over and over again that he loved me. It had been as clear as day from everything he said and did. He’d never said the words because he’d always been waiting for me.

But I gasped loudly and exclaimed, “What? Really? I can’t believe you really love me!”

He chuckled and kissed me again. “That’s better.”

The kiss deepened quickly, and soon he was making soft sounds of pleasure and excitement in his throat as his hands got more and more entitled.

Finally, when I was getting aroused myself and could feel him hard against my hip, I pulled away gasping. “Gideon, we’re going to be late for work.”

“Who the hell cares about that?” he growled, capturing my mouth again.

I was shaking with both laughter and excitement as his tongue stroked into my mouth deeply. I managed to get my legs around him so I could align myself better with his groin.

We started to rock together as we kissed, and my skin flushed hot all over my body as arousal built up more deeply. Soon I was clawing at his bare back, and he was trying to push up the oversized t-shirt I wore.

He broke the kiss so he could pull the shirt off over my head, and then he lowered his mouth to one of my breasts, teasing it until I arched and whimpered.

“Please,” I gasped at last, when the pleasure became torturous. “Please, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

He released a muffled groan and let my nipple slip from his lips. Then, together, we undid his trousers and freed his erection. He aligned himself at my entrance by the simple expedient of pushing aside my panties. Then he was inside me, and both of us were groaning with pleasure.

He was kissing me again as he started to thrust, and I pumped my hips up to match his motion. Our rhythm intensified as the kiss deepened, and my whole body throbbed with pleasure, with feeling, with love so pure it united my body and heart.

When our motion became more urgent, our kiss fell apart. But he was still right there, so close to me, gazing down at me with blue eyes that had never looked at me with anything but love.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I love you.” He panted out the words in time to his motion.

I arched up. “Yeah. Me too.” I clawed at his ass in my effort to feel him even more.

“I love you,” he rasped again. And then, “I love you” again on his next thrust. He kept grunting the words out as his rocking became harder and faster.

My whole body was tightening helplessly. I tried to tell him I loved him too, but I could only make little sobbing noises as our bodies moved like one.

Then my fingernails dug into his flesh as all the feeling and sensation tightened into a coil just before it released. I cried out with my climax, feeling it deep, feeling it with everything. Then, as I came down breathlessly, I wrapped my legs around him to draw him even deeper inside me.