The Gideon Affair (14 page)

“Babe, snap out of it. Creamer. Come on.”

“Oh, right,” she mumbled, hurrying to the fridge. He’d moved the carton of creamer to the bottom shelf to make room for last night’s takeout leftovers. When she bent over to grab it, he was treated to quite a view of her ass cheeks. His fantasy from earlier—the one where his mouth did a thorough tasting of those long legs—fired him up.

Like he needed any more temptation, sheesh.

Joining him at the coffee zone, he studied her in amused silence as she went about her java ritual.

First, a spoon went into her mouth with the stem hanging out making her look like a crazy one fang walrus. Apparently, to put a cold spoon into a hot beverage was nothing short of sacrilege. So was using a cold container of any kind. Didn’t matter if it was a fancy china teacup or a gargantuan mug—cold was a no-no, so he’d learned to fill her cup with hot water while the coffee brewed. Putting said mug into the microwave for a quick heat-up also fell somewhere between a minor faux pas and a major crime.

With the spoon warming in her mouth, she counted out six yellow packets of sweetener from a canister on the counter. For the mug she was using, it had to be six. Not five and not seven. Six.

Stacking them in a neat pile, she held the bundle by one end and smacked them against the counter five times. This action made all the powder gather in the bottom of the packets, making it easier to tear all six packets open in one rip.

He knew all these small details because he’d asked her about them once then thoughtfully listened when she’d gone into painstaking detail about her quirky ritual. She said knowing these things mattered in business. More specifically, any business with customers, she’d amended, because playing to the preferences of the folks interacting with your brand—whatever it was—gave you an advantage over the competition. People liked to think they mattered. That you noticed them. So he’d made it a point from then on to study all of Paige’s habits and quirks. As she studied his.

He watched as the sweetener went for a swim before the spoon finally joined in. With a quick flick of her wrist, she whirlpooled the black brew then dribbled in a slow stream of fresh cream. The secret to adding the refrigerated dairy product was watching the color—adding only enough to quickly cool the boil and to bring the proper shade.

Sometimes, she’d told him, if she didn’t stir the coffee first, she’d dump in a big glug of the white stuff then watch while clouds billowed in the blackness. Only Paige could turn making a cup of coffee into a poetic ballet.

When all the proper steps were completed, she gathered the torn paper and tossed the yellow paper scraps into the recycling bin. Paige was also a head case when it came to natural resource issues. Don’t be stupid enough to let the water run while you brushed your teeth unless you wanted to endure the mother of all environmental lectures. When she and his dad got together, it was like having Al Gore at the table.

Ritual completed—all that she had left now was the quick puff of air she blew across the surface of the coffee as she lifted the steaming mug for that first sip.

She probably colored inside the lines too
, he thought.

“Mmmmmmmmmm.” And then she was walking for the doors to the deck. “Come on,” she drawled, gesturing for him to follow. “Dibs on the party chair!”

The party chair. Another Paige original she’d discovered online. Some insanely cool chair and lounger combo that rivaled the Iron Throne for wow value and had more bells and whistles than his fucking Tesla. With cup holders, blue tooth connectivity, adjustable lumbar support, swiveling arms, and a pull out cooler beneath the seat, the damn thing was so substantial it needed its own zip code.

Idle chatter was not necessary for this end-of-day routine, so they sat in companionable silence, enjoying their drinks with the sound of the crashing surf in the background.

It was so simple and basic. Him. Paige. A sense of peace. It didn’t matter what else had happened—the two of them hanging out together made everything else evaporate into insignificance.

Was this what being with the person you loved felt like?

His eyes went wide, and he swung his head to look at her.
I am in love with Paige.
The truth hit him like a thunderbolt.

Moving around the house with reluctant feet, Paige gathered her things and shuffled to a table by the door. She wasn’t kidding about enjoying the times Edward and she had spent together. When it was just them and everything else fell by the wayside, it was like an oasis of normal inside a great big whirling tornado of bizarre.

But, oh boy, they didn’t seem to have much trouble dishing up their own unique brand of off-the-wall behavior. So much had gone down during the last couple of hours that she could barely wrap her mind around any of it much less what it all meant.

That was probably why she was reluctant to leave. Once the door opened and she stepped back into the world, the weight of their Gideon predicament would dominate her time and the bubble they were presently inside would pop.

Her insides tightened. She liked this bubble. Liked the teasing and the flirting very much. And the kissing? Hmm. Maybe needed a bit more of that before expressing an opinion.

An amused snort, which was a total reflex, echoed off the hallway walls. Who was she kidding?

The man kissed like a … something. Jeez. There wasn’t a good way to describe it. All she was sure of was that she wanted more of where that came from.

Paige could hear Edward puttering in the kitchen—cleaning up. She’d found it amusing from the get-go that he was so neat and organized. Clutter made him twitchy. Over time, she had figured out that while his mom would never put up with her boys being slobs, it was his Army training that had formed many of his habits.

They were compatible in that way ‘cause she also had a hard time with mayhem in her daily life. Even as a kid, having a personal retreat that reflected her need for tranquility had always been part of who she was. Discovering they shared the same trait had been a bonus, like the icing on an already spectacular cake.

“Hey, you forgot something,” he hollered from the kitchen.

Purse. Keys. Backpack. iPad. Shoes. Nope. She had everything.

Pulling a hair tie off her wrist, Paige gathered big handfuls of her long mane into a thick tail and deftly secured it. Glancing at her pile of stuff, she pulled a thoughtful frown and shook her head.

“I don’t think there’s anything,” she yelled while turning around. She jumped back and squeaked with fright. He was right on top of her.

“Good lord! You scared me shitless,” she exclaimed. Paige shivered slightly from the sensation rushing along her skin. Whoa. What was happening?

His eyes. She didn’t know they could look like that. All smoky and somehow hard and glittery at the same time. And big. When he stood this close, he pretty much covered her completely with his size, surrounding her with his essence—something powerful, intoxicating. Real.

The real got to her.

“The after,” he murmured as he took her face in his big hands. “You forgot about the after.”

“Oh,” was all she had time to blurt out before he closed the slight distance between their mouths and slowly began brushing their lips together. The delicate friction made her lips pulse with need.

They were breathing each other in, her hands clinging to his forearms as he held tight to her face, her heart thumping hard enough for Paige to hear.

After a few barely-there flutter-by kisses, he groaned against her lips. “Open for me, babe.”

By that point, she was already so completely undone that he could have asked her to meow and she would have. Paige felt something different in this kiss from what they’d shared earlier. The feeling was unnerving, but that didn’t stop her from giving him what he asked for.

The second she opened, he deepened the kiss, wrapping her in a passionate embrace that she gladly returned. Putting her arms around his neck, she had to rise on her toes to reach his mouth. This was no hesitant exploration. Edward went deep, commanding everything from her response.

His pace never changed, never became frantic. He just kissed her; really, really slow and really, really deep.

Paige moaned with desire. She couldn’t help it. And the more she moaned, the slower and deeper the kiss became. He kept it up for a while—how long she couldn’t even guess. Her mind had gone to mush when his tongue had claimed hers.

Her mind dimly registered that one of Edward’s hands was squeezing her ass and that his other hand was gripping the back of her head and neck. The twin grips felt possessive and very, very sexy.

So did his hair. Felt sexy. He was growing it out for his next role, so mostly it was turning into a shaggy mess that she surprisingly found quite appealing. Made it easy to run her fingers through and rub his scalp.

Mmm. His tongue exploring every inch of her mouth with that slow rhythm that scattered her mental marbles turned Paige to jelly.

When he ended the kiss, she leaned her head back and held on to his broad shoulders for balance. The way he was looking at her took the wind left in her sails and blew it all to hell. So too did the firm grip he maintained on her neck.

With his free hand, Edward gently caressed her cheek before swiping his thumb back and forth over her bottom lip.

“You taste like wonder,” he growled.

She’d never heard that sound before. It was raw and kind of menacing.

“And garlic and tomatoes and blue cheese and red wine.”

Paige smiled. At least, she hoped it was a smile and not a grotesque facial spasm.

“Oh, and French Roast.” He was smiling into her upturned face.

Finding her sense with a good deal of effort, she bantered right back. “Too much garlic, you think? I don’t know,” she teased with a slight shake of her head. “It’s hard to tell.”

His bark of laughter sealed the deal for her. She would never know another man his equal.

“Are you crazy? There’s no such thing as too much garlic!”

And then he simply pinned her to the wall and kissed her senseless. It wasn’t until she felt his hand on a thigh left bare by her skimpy shorts that she pulled it together.

Pushing him with a gentle shove, she smacked him lightly on the chest. “Okay, okay. Enough with the Mr. Handsy thing,” she teased.

“No good?” He chuckled back.

He was still crowding her personal space, not that she minded in the least, so she surveyed the mess she’d made of his hair—reaching up to push it off his forehead.

“Well,” she shrugged, smiling with a half-grin, “coming out of left field and all, you have to give me a chance to catch up.”

She didn’t expect the rough grunt he made when he pushed off her and backed up. “No left field for me, Paige. This has been a long time coming.”

Her mouth dropped, and she was pretty sure her eyes had the deer in the headlights look to them. Finally, she frowned, her eyebrows almost meeting from the tension on her face. “Edward, what are you saying?”

He tapped her playfully on the nose. “You’re a smart girl. Can’t you figure it out?”

“Uhh …” Paige mentally rolled her eyes. Smooth. And to think, she aced a public speaking course at the university.
Pfft
. “Should we be doing this?” The question appeared out of nowhere, but she trusted her judgment enough to know it came from honesty. Should they be doing this?

“There is no this, babe. There’s only us. So what you’re asking is if we should be doing us.”

He sounded so serious.

“Us,” she murmured.

“Come on, Paige. You can’t be that surprised.”

Surprised? She was flabbergasted. Wanting Edward Banning was practically on her résumé but that didn’t mean she’d ever let those feelings out of the box where she kept them. Until now. And now seemed like a good time to take a big breath and a deep gulp.

Those mesmerizing blue eyes bored into hers. “Don’t you think we should talk about this?”

Hmm. Fight or flight? Talk or run? Run sounded good. For now. She needed time to think about everything. That did not mean, however, that she didn’t secretly want him to make the decision for her, just tear off their clothes, and make love to her right there in the damn hallway.

Giving him a cheeky grin, she fished her keys from the pocket of her shorts and jangled them.

“Nope.”

Ducking her head under the strap of a purse that she had placed across her body, Paige stuck her arm through a loop on the backpack she took everywhere and turned for the door.

“Wait!” He chuckled. “Are you fucking serious? Nope? That’s what you have to say? Just nope?”

Toeing her sandals with one foot, she arranged them on the floor to make them easier to slide into.

With a final smirk and a wink, she laughed in his smiling but shocked face.

“That’s right, sweetie. Nope.”

Yanking on the door, she made to leave turning one last time to wiggle some fingers at him in good-bye.

“Toodles,” she chirped then quickly bolted through the door when Edward burst out laughing and lunged for her as if he meant to unleash the tickle monster.

As she scurried along the path to the driveway, she heard him still laughing in the doorway. “Did you just use the word toodles?”