The Gideon Affair (9 page)

Fuck. Even though the breeze off the ocean was brisk, he’d picked up her scent the moment she got close. Fresh, clean, sexy as shit. Oh yeah, and with just a hint of wintergreen.

He almost missed her passing a water bottle off to him when the desire to claim her mouth to see if she tasted like the speckled mints she obsessed over brutally tightened his sex.

Grasping the frigid water bottle, Edward hastily poured a stream of ice water down his throat hoping to douse the inferno of desire that was burning him up on the inside.

She just stood there. Having those lithe, sexy bare legs inches from his face was fucking with his head. Big time. It did not help at all that in his mind’s eye, he effortlessly visualized putting his mouth on the soft flesh of her inner thigh for a nibble. And a lick. Maybe a bite.

Goddammit. And just like that, he was pissed off and grumpy as fuck.

“Took you long enough.”

What the hell was wrong with him? He shouldn’t bitch at her—not when seconds earlier he’d been thanking the angels for her presence in his life.

Grabbing hold of her wrist, he gave a sturdy yank that sent her tumbling onto the sand at his side. Her startled cry and the way she chided him for the playful attack was the perfect reminder of how lucky he was to have such a remarkable friendship with her.

When she teased him and asked how long he knew she’d been lurking and if he wanted to talk, a thousand details of his shitty day came into focus.

Yeah. He wanted to talk, but he would have to see her eyes. She couldn’t hide her feelings from him. He wasn’t sure if she understood how easily he read her, but he needed to look at her, really look at her, if they were going to have a serious conversation.

“Lose the sunglasses,” he drawled after a long pause.

The changing vibes coming off Edward made Paige proceed with caution.

That and her own wildly careening impulses prompted the yellow flags of warning in her mind. It was all she could do to remain still when he was so close and she could feel his tension. This compelling need to protect and comfort the man at her side made her want things she shouldn’t entertain.

Things like touching him and not a slap on the shoulder or a wink-wink nudge either. No, she wanted a full-on tactile exploration. The sort that would leave them breathing heavy and hanging by the slimmest thread of self-control.

His gruff voice interrupted her thoughts just in time.

Stroking her wrist with the briefest of touches, he commented, “What happened to the fitness tech?”

She huffed out a, “Hmph,” and shook her head. Displaying the wrist that was now naked, she bluntly snapped, “Too much information.”

Edward’s good-natured laugh was a reminder of how he’d teased her endlessly about obsessing over stuff like fitness, insisting she was the most active person he’d ever known—something Paige seriously doubted.

Crossing her legs, she leaned forward and played with the shifting sands, grumpily admitting what a mistake the device had been.

“Yeah, well … being in shape is all well and good, but I seriously did not need that thing monitoring my sleep pattern or registering every nighttime heart rate increase.” Oh, my god. What had made her say that?

Please, please, please let that comment pass.
PLEASE
.

Without warning, Edward flung his arm around her neck and dragged her half onto his lap for a merciless noogie administered to the top of her head.

Laughing gleefully, he teased, “Y’know, it’s the same for guys. Sleepless night? Simple solution. A quick moonlit tug and off to dreamland.”

Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. Leave it to Edward to identify the real meaning of her off-hand remark.

Struggling upright in the vain hope of retaining her dignity, she firmly stated, “I have no idea what you mean,” in a bitchy voice that her inner librarian would find amusing.

Nudging her so hard she nearly tipped over, Edward kept up the playful kidding around.

“Hmph, so maybe tug isn’t the right word.”

She peeked from the corner of her eyes and found him biting his lip with amusement.

“Edward,” she warned. “Drop it.”

The salacious look he turned on her was almost Paige’s undoing.

“Too late,” he growled. “Got a full visual going on inside my dirty mind, babe.”

His gaze went to her feet then quickly journeyed to her hands. “Pink toes. Mmm, I like very much by the way.”

Pooh. Did she have spare undies in her backpack ‘cause with one growl and a look, she was embarrassingly wet. How did he manage to do that so damn easily?

“But the matching manicure? Shit, Paige. Thinking about those beautiful fingers sliding along your …”

“Shut up!” Her frantic screech drowned out the sound of the seagulls overhead and made Edward boom with laughter.

B
reaking out into the happy dance almost happened right there on the beach because Paige’s accidental admission to a bit of self-pleasuring was exactly what his dick wanted to hear.

Dick … you’re being a dick. Down, Dick, down.

Almost worked too until the naughty Jane to his single-minded Dick tried to act as if she were above such things.

Ha!

Her unplanned confession told him two crucial things. One—that the lady slept alone, and two—that she wasn’t adverse to …

STOP!
his mind shouted.
Stop that thought right fucking now.

All of a sudden, she turned and shoved him with both hands. Hard. Man, she had some power behind the motion.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

Aww, her embarrassed pout was all sorts of cute.

“Sorry. My bad.”

He was going to let her have this one. Taking it any further was only going to expose things he should leave alone.

She fished a small shell from the sand and tossed it toward the surf before drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms loosely around them.

“I’m putting the sunglasses back on if you don’t start talking.”

Snorting amusement, he saluted with a mocking grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Edward Gideon Banning,” she croaked, “unless you immediately cut to the chase, I’m getting your mother on the phone to tell her you’re disgracing the Shaw name.”

Aargh. A harmless taunt, one she frequently used at the insistence of his mom, but today it hit a bit too close to home.

When he, Paige, and Mickey had brainstormed for a professional name for Edward, his middle name won out with no problem, but finding a memorable last name had stumped them.

Gideon, in all its three-syllable glory, needed something simple after. Something distinguished for a theater marquee. Banning was out—he wouldn’t even consider it; he’d been adamant that his personal life and family stay separate from the acting.

Paige had asked what his mom’s maiden name was. When he’d said it was Shaw, the girl he’d just met and the agent who’d swooped in and shook up his life jumped up and high-fived with a chorus of enthusiastic approval.

So, Gideon Shaw, it was.

As his and Paige’s relationship grew and deepened, he’d let her into his private life, and well … she and his parents hit it off like vodka and ginger ale. Before he knew it, when she wanted to act all tough and business-like, it wasn’t unusual for her to break out the full name zinger, just as his mom would. The one that made every kid cringe and stop dead in their tracks. All that was missing was the ‘wait till your father gets home’ threat.

“All right, all right,” he grumbled. Words left him in the lurch. All of a sudden, he didn’t know what to say. Where was the beginning, and what was the end? What a fucking mess.

When he stayed silent way too long, she touched him on the back, rubbing little circles between his shoulder blades with her hand.

“It’s okay, Edward. I’m always here for you.”

“I hope you mean that,” he answered hastily. Eesh. He sounded more than a bit desperate.

When her hand moved up to his shoulder, she gave him a side hug that felt incredibly good. He was thrilled when she didn’t withdraw after that—keeping her arm around him and that soft hand of hers resting on the side of his neck.

“Sweetie,” she murmured. “It can’t be that bad.”

Oh, my god. He was scaring her with this bewildered, sullen silence and hesitation. This wasn’t like him at all. Whatever was going on wasn’t superficial noise—not judging by the way that he was acting. Something was eating away at him, and she’d be damned if that was okay.

When he finally looked at her, she had to fight the urge to fall headfirst into his captivating eyes. The shocking blue and those thick black lashes called to her in ways that made her squirm.

She wasn’t prepared when he asked, “Why do you put up with me, Paige? With all this?”

Without pause, her heart answered. “I …”

No. No! NO!

NO!

Ho-ly shitballz. Hearing the real concern in his voice, she had almost said ‘I love you’ to explain just why she, in fact, put up with all this crap.

The words came far too easily. She excelled at having presence of mind. That ability to think on her feet was a big part of why people found her so capable. Thank god, it served her right now.

“Well, sweetie,” she mockingly sneered. “I put up with your moldy ass because I love smog, pretention, PinkBerry, and a brutal drought. Next question?”

Relief swept through her when Edward leaned in and put his forehead against hers.

“Damn,” he muttered thickly. “And here I thought it was ‘cause you’re hopelessly in love with me.”

He was joking.
Right?

With unerring accuracy, she dropped her arm from his shoulder and went straight for the water bottle planted in the sand at his side. One flick of a finger on the cap and it sprang open just as she upended the bottle and cold water drained down the back of his head, sliding down his neck and into this shirt.

Jolted by complete surprise, he barked, “What the fuck!”

Pushing her away, she winked in his shocked face and wrinkled her nose.

“Just cooling you down, loverboy. Reminding you that I’m not one of your awestruck fans. Or a horny co-star.”

His face fell at her jest, as if she struck a nerve.

Well, that was not good.

A troop of wildly stomping roughriders marched through her belly sending waves of anxiety into every corner of her being.

“Okay,” Paige drawled. “My bad and that makes us even.”

Nodding as he finished wiping the water off his neck, he growled, “Look,” but he was looking everywhere but at her. “I fucked up today.”

She snorted and elbowed him playfully trying to break his dour change of mood. “So, what else is new?”

“This is serious, babe.”

“Yeah, Edward. I get that. Cut me a damn break, okay? Remember—I’ve been watching you for a while, and I’m not stupid. You don’t hang by the shoreline in a pair of incredibly expensive tailored slacks, which, by the way, you’ve completely ruined, for no good reason.”

More head nods. Well, at least he was aware of what he was doing and that it seemed more than a bit odd.

“Has Mickey called you?”

The alarm bells started clanging in her mind. If he was asking about Mickey, then that meant some serious bullshit must have gone down.