When It's Right (21 page)

She rubbed her feet up his calves, her hands down his back to cover his ass. They came back up to smooth over his arms and settle on his biceps. She squeezed, he flexed, and she sighed. He smiled. “You have a real thing for my arms.”

“So much strength, yet you know how to be gentle.”

He raised up on his forearms and stared down at her. “I'll be anything you want.”

“I know that, Blake. I love that you try so hard to take care of me. But you have to stop tiptoeing around me, worrying about everything you say or do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The way you hold yourself back, giving me space when you want to be close. You used to have a beer or two after work. Since I got here, you don't.”

“I don't need to have a beer after work.”

“Exactly. So if you want one, have one. It doesn't bother me, because you don't need it to get through your day.”

“And I'm with you all the time.”

“Yes, but you're always so careful and polite about the way you approach and touch me. Look how long it's taken us to get here.”

“I thought you needed time.”

“I need you. The real you. The man who wants me desperately and shows me with every ounce of love and passion he can't contain when he touches me.”

“I want to make you happy.”

“How can I be happy if you're not?”

“I am. I'm with you.”

She cupped his face and looked him in the eyes. “Please, Blake, I'm trying so hard to work on living a carefree life. Every accomplishment I make seems like I haven't actually taken a step forward if you keep treating me with kid gloves.”

“Taking special care of you is not a bad thing.”

“Being sweet to me is never a bad thing. Holding pieces of yourself back, changing who you are is not okay with me. If you want me to share the bad things with you, but you won't share all of yourself with me, how can this ever work? Eventually you'll get tired of it.”

“Gillian.”

“No, Blake. You want me to trust you, and I do, but how can that bond hold if we can't share everything with each other?”

He rolled to his side and kept her next to him. She put her hand over his heart, snuggled into the crook of his arm, and laid her head on his shoulder.

He kissed her on the head. “I want to give you everything.”

She leaned up and kissed him softly. “I've never been happier than I am when I'm with you. You give me magic. You're amazing.”

Something in her tone told him they were talking about the
amazing
way they made love together. “Amazing, huh?”

“Incredible. Stupendous. Fantastic.” She nipped at his chin. “How do you like those adjectives?”

“I'll work on it. I'll do better next time,” he teased, making her laugh.

He pulled the blankets over them, wrapped his arms around her, held her close to his side, and kissed her goodnight. He pressed his lips to hers, kissed her once, twice, and held the third for a long, lingering moment. “I love you.” Now that he'd told her, he couldn't help saying it again. Until he met her, his life had seemed cold and lonely. She'd lit a fire in him that would burn the rest of his life.

 

Chapter 23

G
illian stared at her reflection in the mirror and ran a nervous hand down the skirt of her dress. Grandma Dee helped her pick out the pretty dress, and Gillian paid for it with the money she earned working for her grandfather. She turned to the side and studied the still pink scar lines over her shoulder and up her neck. She had a new one to add to her collection, thanks to Ken. She pushed thoughts of that nuisance out of her mind.

She hadn't told Blake what happened. Ken kept his distance. She'd made her point. To him and herself. She wouldn't be anyone's victim anymore.

The dress didn't cover everything. She liked the snug fit over her breasts and to her waist before its skirt gently flared and draped to her knees. The raspberry-­colored roses with their deep green leaves made a lovely pattern against the white background. The color made the gold in her hair stand out.

“Gillian, get a move on, sweetheart,” Blake called up the stairs.

The butterflies in her belly took flight again. Nervous, she bit her bottom lip, tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, and turned from the reflection of the woman in the mirror she didn't quite feel attached to at the moment.

She walked down the stairs and stopped on the second to last tread. Gorgeous in dark gray slacks and a white dress shirt, Blake stared at her from the living room. Oh, but the look on Blake's face made her heart melt. Pure male appreciation. It made the extra half hour of makeup and hair worth it. She liked the side ponytail, her hair cascading down one side of her chest. His eyes blazed a trail from her head down to her pink-­painted toenails encased in a pair of silver sandal high heels. Nothing like anything she'd ever worn, the pretty shoes made her feel sexy. And she knew how much Blake liked her legs. Bonus that her calves looked great, if she did say so herself. The look in his eyes when he stared at her legs told her he agreed.

“Uh, Gillian, you're beautiful.”

“Thank you. Do you like the dress?”

“I love it. You look so . . .”

“Different?”

“Pretty.”

She wondered if what he really meant was grown-­up. The hair and makeup made her look a few years older. In jeans and a T-­shirt, she could pass for a teenager. She often wondered if their age difference mattered to him. He'd said once that it didn't, but still, in a small town, little things like that mattered to some ­people.

“You two have a good night. We'll take care of Justin.” Grandma Dee pressed her clasped hands to her breasts, not even trying to hide the huge, all-­knowing smile on her face.

Her grandfather stood beside her, smiling. “You look lovely.” The words came out gruff.

“Thank you.”

“Why can't I come?” Justin asked.

“Next time,” Blake said. “Tonight, I'm taking your sister out on a proper date.”

“Why? You see her every day.”

“Not like this.” Blake never took his eyes off her.

She came down the last step and kissed Justin on the head, then ruffled his hair. “You be good for your grandparents. If you are, I heard something about roasting marshmallows in the fireplace.”

“No way!”

“Yes way. Brush your teeth before bed. I'll see you in the morning.”

Blake took her hand and led her out the door and down the porch steps. He stopped her next to his truck. “I have to do this before we go.”

She didn't understand what he meant until he leaned down and kissed her softly, holding his lips pressed to hers, his fingers caressing her bare neck lightly. “God, you're beautiful.”

“You said that already.”

“I'll probably say it a dozen more times by the end of the night.”

She touched her fingers to her cheek. “It's not too much? No one wears makeup on the wharf to work with the fishmongers. I'm not very good with the whole makeup thing.”

“You're lovely. Ella knows her stuff. She picked out the perfect colors for you.”

Her gaze fell away from his. Shy, she said, “I like all the stuff she sent me.”

Blake helped her into the truck. “Tell her at the wedding. She'll probably send you more.”

“No. That's not necessary.”

Blake shrugged. “She likes doing stuff like that. She sent my mom a bunch of stuff.”

He closed her door and walked around the truck to climb behind the wheel. They drove out of the ranch and headed down the main road to town. Blake took her hand and held it. So sweet.

“I'm nervous about the wedding.”

“Why? You've met Gabe and my parents. They love you. Ella can't wait to meet you. Did you pick a dress?”

“She sent me three. Remind me to bring the other two to her so she can return them. I have no idea how much I owe her for the one I'll wear.”

“Nothing. The dresses are yours to keep.”

“What? No.”

“Yes. One thing you need to know about Ella. She's obsessive about organization. She's driving Gabe crazy with the wedding plans. All the guys will be in black tuxes with dark blue ties and vests. Gabe's is a different shade of blue. All the ladies will be in different shades of blue dresses.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep. It's her favorite color, and that's what she wanted for the wedding. She and my mother went shopping in New York together to get Mom's dress. They picked out yours at the same time. Ella wanted you to come, but I told her you probably wouldn't want to leave Justin for four days.”

“No. I mean, he loves being with all of you at the ranch, but . . .”

“He still looks for you to be with him all the time. Don't worry, he'll get there. He spends more and more time at my place during the day when I'm there.”

“How come he's invited over, but I'm not?”

Blake turned his gaze from the road and stared at her. “Are you serious? You don't need an invitation to come see me. Besides, I spend most of my time up at the house with you.”

She touched her fingers to his cheek to make him look back at the road.

“You're right. Sneaking in and out of my bedroom.”

“I feel like a thief in the night,” he admitted.

“Stealing kisses.”

“That and little pieces of heaven.”

“Aw, look at you, Mr. Romance.”

“Just be thankful I walked you to the truck for dinner and not back upstairs to ravage you when I saw you in that dress.”

“You're too used to sneaking in through the back door anyway.”

“You know that's to keep Justin from knowing I'm sneaking into your bed. Your grandparents know we're sleeping together.”

“No way.” The blush washed up her breasts and flushed her cheeks.

“Bud gave me a very stern lecture about treating you right and protecting you.”

“Are you telling me he gave you
the talk
?”

Blake chuckled. “It was like the same awkward conversation I had with my dad.”

Gillian covered her face with both hands. “Oh God. This is not good. How can I ever look at them again?”

That made Blake laugh even more. “Don't worry about it. I told him exactly what I told you. It's fine. Though he made it clear—­again—­that my job and
life
depend on your happiness.”

“Wait, what did you tell him?”

“I love you.”

“That's kind of sweet.”

He tugged her ponytail. “You know I love you.”

“It's sweet that he cared enough to talk with you.”

“Yes, the grandfather threatening to kill the boyfriend if he hurts his little girl is very sweet.” Blake's words dripped with sarcasm.

“I don't think I've ever had a boyfriend.”

“I can confirm you've had at least one,” he grumbled.

She laughed. “That
one
had more to do with teenage hormones, movie night at a friend's place, and tequila. Pretty much one of the few times I acted out all my teenage angst and rebellion.”

“Are you serious?”

“I thought we were doing this whole tell-­the-­truth-­about-­everything deal. If you want me to lie, I'm happy to tell you about Tom, Rick, Ja—­”

“Shut up. I got it. Besides, I like being your first and
last
boyfriend.”

“Is that right?”

Blake pulled into the parking lot outside the steak house and parked the truck. He leaned over, kissed her socks off, and leaned back with a stern look. “Yes.” He kissed her again. “My life is on the line here, you know?”

He might be teasing, but the truth behind those words always stuck with her. “Blake, I'm sorry there's so much pressure on you for this to work out.”

“Gillian, what does or doesn't happen between us is our business, and no one else's. If it doesn't work out, it's a big ranch. I'm sure we can stay out of each other's way. But, sweetheart, that's never going to happen unless we let it. I plan to make you happy every day of your life so you'll have no reason to want to leave me. To that end, let's go have dinner. I have a surprise for you.”

“Really?” She couldn't help the giddy smile. No one ever did nice things for her the way Blake did for no reason.

“I love it when you smile.”

She leaned in and kissed him softly. “You make me happy, Blake. I'm worrying over nothing.”

“Yes. You are. You never had very many good things in your life. When you did, your father ruined them. That part of your life is over now. Nothing but happy and good things for you from now on.”

One day, she'd stop waiting for something bad to ruin all the good. That's not the life she lived anymore. Right? She hoped. Still, she had yet to shake that sense of doom following her around everywhere. She couldn't outrun it or hide from it. It loomed.

She turned to get out of the truck, but he stopped her with a hand on her thigh that sent a shaft of heat right to her center. That always happened when he touched her. She hoped that good thing never stopped.

“Wait. Let me get the door for you.”

She appreciated his manners and waited for him to come around, open her door, take her hand, and help her down from the truck. She turned to him and found him staring.

“You're so beautiful.”

“I'm going to have to wear a dress more often if this is how you react.”

“It's not the dress.” He led her into the restaurant, her hand tucked through his and resting on his forearm.

“Blake, welcome,” the hostess greeted them. “We have your table and order ready. Right this way.”

Blake took her hand and escorted her through the crowded restaurant to a private table in the corner. ­People stared. A few called out hellos to Blake. He gave them a nod and a smile, but his focus remained on her beside him. He pulled out her chair and waited for her to take her seat. He kissed her shoulder and took the seat beside her, smiling.

“Amy will be your server. She'll have your drinks in just a moment.” The hostess left them alone.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I love it. It's cozy.” She liked the white linen tablecloth, fresh flowers in the pretty blue vase, and taper candles, their flames dancing in the center of the table. Dim lights cast the room in shadows, lending a more private and intimate dinner setting. “She didn't give us menus.”

“We don't need them. I ordered ahead.”

“My surprise,” she guessed.

That cocky smile might be the death of her. When he smiled like that, she wanted to sit in his lap and kiss him forever.

“You'll see. I planned the whole evening.”

“To sweep me off my feet?”

“We both know all I have to do is kiss that spot on the side of your neck, and you're mine.”

“Actually, all you have to do is look at me that way.”

“Which way?” He swept his heated gaze over her face and down to her breasts. They went heavy, and her nipples tightened. She caught herself before she licked her lips, anticipating his touch.

“That way,” she said, notching her voice down into a deep, seductive octave.

Blake swallowed, leaned forward, and clasped his hand to her thigh under the table. “Stop, or we'll never make it through this dinner.”

She giggled and batted her eyelashes. “What? I didn't do anything,” she said, all innocence in her voice.

His fingers squeezed her leg and swept up toward her hip. She sucked in a breath and let it out on a sigh when his thumb caressed the inside of her thigh inches from where she really wanted to be touched.

“Okay stop,” she pleaded, though the words held little conviction. She laid her arm on the table, palm up. He pulled his hand from her thigh and gently ran his fingertips down her arm to her palm and settled his warm hand on hers.

“For now.” The husky tone in his voice promised so much more. Later.

She loved the anticipation building in her stomach, like a colony of bats swirling at the entrance of a cave before they took flight into the night.

To distract herself, she reached for her purse to take out her phone. “Oh no. I left my purse in the car. I promised Justin he could call my new cell to say goodnight.”

Blake pulled his keys from his pocket and rose. “I'll go get it.”

She stood and grabbed his hand. “No. I'll get it. Sit. Relax. You've planned such a wonderful evening. I'll be right back.”

He leaned in and kissed her. “Hurry up. I don't want to miss a minute of tonight with you.”

Unable to resist his simple, yet lovely, request, she kissed him again and took off for the door to retrieve her clutch. Other guests stared at her abrupt departure, but she didn't care. As Blake had ordered, she hurried to get back to him. Right where she wanted to be.

She weaved her way through the cars in the parking lot, unlocked Blake's truck, and snagged her purse off the seat. She locked up, turned back to the restaurant, and took a few steps before a movement to her left caught her attention. A man stepped out between two cars, wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans. His face was in shadow, but his golden hair gleamed bright from the overhead light.