Touch of Amber: Hot Rods, Book 7 (11 page)

“Wait. Gavyn.” Amber drew away, hardly able to catch her breath. The lust flooding her system short-circuited every bit of logic she possessed. “This is too much. Too fast. I haven’t even really processed the fact that this is really you, here, in Middletown.”

“In that case…” He braced his forearms on the wall on either side of her head, as if their kiss has sapped his strength. Willpower, though, he seemed better able to muster because he was calm and collected when he asked, “Will you let me take you out to dinner somewhere fancy so we can talk and get caught up without risking getting
distracted
?”

The way he said it made it clear exactly how they would end up amusing each other if they were left unchaperoned. She didn’t doubt it either.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Gavyn.”

“You just said—”

“I know. But going with impulsive desires didn’t work out so well the last time I tried it. Maybe I should be more reasonable now.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes closed. “It doesn’t have to be a date, Amber. Some time to talk away from everyone else, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“I shouldn’t.” She knew better. Right when she thought she would excuse herself from their chat and end this madness, Quinn’s accusations came roaring into her mind once more.

Just because you don’t like someone’s actions doesn’t mean you don’t still love them.

The image of her mom and Tom followed right after—kept apart by the ghosts in their pasts. Would she regret this moment for the rest of her life if she didn’t take the chance to see what might be possible?

It wasn’t wise. It wasn’t cautious or planned.

She did it anyway.

“Fine. Yes. Let’s go. Quick, before I change my mind again.” Amber held out her hand and Gavyn clasped it tight.

“Thank you.” He gave her a peck on the lips then practically ran for the front of the shop where his bike was waiting, pausing only to snag his polo from the hook he’d hung it on before lending the Hot Rods some elbow grease earlier.

Chapter Thirteen

Gavyn was grateful that he’d already scoped out restaurants that would, hopefully, impress investors when he got ready to launch Hot Rides. It was easy to mentally select the one that had looked the best and speed off in that direction without having to search online or ask Amber and give her time to back out of their non-date date.

He’d picked up on some of her habits after working alongside her, it seemed.

When she slung her leg over his bike and settled into place against his backside, he knew he was the luckiest bastard in the world. Dressed in slacks, a ruffled maroon blouse and black high heels, she looked entirely too professional to hang around him. The peacock-feather earrings dangling nearly to her collarbones were the sole hint of her adventurous side. They reminded him of the one he’d stolen from her dress to torture her with. Between that and the way she molded to him perfectly, clinging as though they hadn’t been split up for months—if they had ever really been together at all—she revved him to the max.

It seemed like only the night before that he’d spent several hours locked inside her.

Or maybe it was her arms, cinched around his waist, that were jogging his memory. Her fingers roamed over his abs and chest for some gratuitous handholds he didn’t mind providing in the least. In fact, he detoured, taking the scenic route to the place he’d selected for his attempt to win her over.

Secluded and romantic, the restaurant used to be a church about a hundred years earlier. It had the original beam ceiling and a wall of stained glass that would be perfectly illuminated this time of day. When Gavyn led Amber past the outer door into the foyer, she gasped at the glittering colors cast onto the wide plank flooring. The small vestibule had a bench for waiting when the restaurant was overwhelmed before a second door led into the main area.

“I’ve heard a lot about this place,” she said. “I haven’t done an event with a budget big enough per head and small enough to fit to consider it a venue contender yet.”

“So you’ve never checked it out in person before?” he asked, pleased to share the experience with her. Their first times together.

She shook her head, making those seductive feathers dance around her shoulders. “I’ve always wanted to, though. Are you sure you’re up for this?”

The nibbles she subjected her lip to nearly drove him mad. Concentrating twice as hard on her question, he thought he knew what she was getting at. “Go ahead. You can say it. Never hold back. You’re probably right to worry.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath then explained, “They have an extensive wine cellar here. I’d rather go to McDonald’s and eat in the PlayPlace ball pit than put you in a dangerous situation. You don’t need to impress me to have a chance with me. There are a lot more important things than a fancy meal.”

“Like me being able to control my impulses?” It sucked, but he knew she had every reason to be concerned. He hadn’t proven to her yet that he was capable of resisting, of overcoming his illness.

These days he had better strategies for coping and he wanted to demonstrate them to her.

She didn’t answer. Didn’t have to.

Gavyn cupped her face in his hands, glad to see her cheek seemed completely healed. As gently and carefully as he could manage, he delivered an achingly tender kiss to her lush lips, which parted on a soft sigh. Instead of deepening the contact, no matter how badly he wanted to, he released her.

“If I can stop after a single taste of you, then I can handle not drinking here.” He took her hand and led her to the inner door, which opened into the main restaurant. “I have a plan. Will you trust me?”

“Ummm…”

It stung that she couldn’t yet. That had been asking too much, too soon, he knew. “Fair enough. Maybe tomorrow I’ll have earned a little more faith. I’ll spend every day doing that until you’re comfortable with me again. If you’ll let me.”

Before she could object, he led her inside.

The moment they walked through the door, Gavyn approached the host. He would have been a hell of a lot more suave about what he was about to do if he didn’t
want
Amber to overhear his speech, one he’d prepared, rehearsed and used several times lately to avoid putting himself in a tough situation.

“Good evening. I’m Gavyn. I’ll be dining here with my lovely friend Amber tonight. I’m a recovering alcoholic. It would help me out if you could make sure that no wine menus, drink specials, dishes with alcohol or desserts with liquor are offered or served to me, even if I change my mind later.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll let the staff know about your food allergy.” The man smiled broadly and gave him a subtle wink.

“You…” Amber blinked up at Gavyn a few times. “That was…wow.”

“I learned from a woman I know that it helps to manage a situation if you’re prepared.” He smiled at Amber, hoping she wasn’t embarrassed he’d revealed his addiction issues to a stranger. It would always be part of him, following them, and maybe that was more than she could handle.

“Thank you for being responsible,” she said, beaming up at him. “That’s really shrewd of you to head things off.”

“I’ve been paying attention this time around. Actually listening to other people, like Roman, who have made it through the toughest times. Picking up things here and there that I feel like I can use for myself. I go to a local meeting once a week and I’m a member of several online support groups too. I got that tip from one of the other attendees.”

“Smart.” She squeezed his hand, and he figured she wasn’t referring so much to the idea as she was to his involvement in relapse prevention.

At least he hoped that was what she meant.

He paused as they were led through dazzling lights to an intimate table in a glass nook.

“This reminds me of the rainbows at the Hot Rods’ weddings.” She sighed as she stared at him and the colorful illumination painting his skin. Hers too. It made her even more painfully beautiful than usual.

“I think about that moment a lot, Amber.”

“Me too,” she agreed with a sad smile. “It helps me sometimes to remember that just when you think things are ruined, they can always turn around.”

Afraid to read too much into her statement, he still had to try to show her that he wanted to make things right for her. For
them
, if he could.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard this from your sister, or the Powertools, or Tom and your mom, or whoever. Even if you have, I want you to hear it directly from me too. I haven’t touched anything. Alcohol, drugs—nothing…since the night I fucked up.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table, screw manners, so that she could see the truth in his eyes. “I never will again. I’m fighting, Amber, every day, and it’s becoming easier because I finally get what the stakes are. For the first time since I’ve admitted I’m sick, there’s something I want more than a fix.”

He stared at her without daring to say more and scare her off. If she wanted to pretend he was talking about the bike shop, let her. That
was
part of what he meant.

Saved by the waiter, he didn’t have to field questions from her about his bold statement. They perused the menu, beverages excluded, and made their selections. When things had quieted down and they were waiting for their meals, Amber cleared her throat.

“If you have something to say, please don’t hold back.” He hated that he’d stifled some of her newfound recklessness.

“It’s just that I’ve been wondering…” She broke off and stared at the window, which had dulled to a glow as the sun set.

“You can ask me anything,” he encouraged.

“Did I do something the night of the wedding to make you unhappy?” she blurted out.

“Amber, no.” He nearly knocked the goblet of ice water off the table when he lunged for her hands and wrapped them in his. “You were perfect.
Are
perfect.”

“I’m not.” She flung the denial at him. “I’m scared. And I’m a shitty friend.”

“Hang on. What?” The bombs she was dropping on him had him darting from point to point to avoid impact. There were things being left on the table that he needed to revisit. He compiled a mental list while refusing to interrupt her now that she’d started opening up to him.

“The day we were at the pergola, hanging the curtains…”

“Yeah, I remember it well.” A grin crossed his lips despite the tension rolling off Amber.

“Oh jeez. Not that part.” She laughed softly and pinched his hand, making him jerk.

He prodded her to continue. “No, seriously, what about it?”

“You told me to let go and promised to catch me if I crashed and burned. I said I’d do the same for you. But when it came down to it, I didn’t. I left. I’ve hated myself every day since then because I didn’t fight harder to pick you up, bring you back to a place full of rainbows instead of storms. I’m sorry for that, truly. I was so scared and so hurt. I was weak and I let you down.”

A single tear fell down her cheek, breaking his heart all over again.

“If I recall, and I don’t really…not totally…I think I didn’t give you an option.” He winced.

“Sure, you screamed at me. But you were drunk. Or…well, I wish there was a word for how intoxicated you were.
Drunk
doesn’t really cover it. I could have ignored you and stuck by you. Ridden in the ambulance with you. Should have. But I was reeling and terrified, which isn’t an excuse, really.”

“Amber, please. Don’t do that to yourself.” He lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles over and over. “Don’t take any of my shit and put it on you.”

“All I can do is work on that, like you’re doing with your issues.” She shook her head. “Because the reality is, I’m still totally freaked out. And confused. I feel like I’m doing the wrong thing if I ignore the progress you’ve made. At the same time, I have to look out for myself. I don’t know how to strike that balance between self-preservation and supporting you.”

“Don’t worry about it tonight. Enjoy your food and we’ll talk and that’s all you have to be concerned with, the right now. You know that’s another thing they teach us, right? To take things minute by minute.”

“I suck at that, remember?” She laughed. “I’ll try, though. Seriously, Gavyn, I have to know one thing before I can let it go. Why didn’t you fall asleep with me that night? Did you get up to piss or to get rid of the condom and see the champagne Nola had left for me, or was there some other reason you couldn’t sleep? Were you already having cravings? Didn’t you trust me to help you? Why not wake me up?”

Holy fuck. She’d obviously spent sleepless nights obsessing about something that had been completely out of her control to generate enough options that she could rattle nearly a half dozen of them off the top of her head. And he was to blame.

In order to salve her conscience, he had to come clean.

“I’m a pussy. I was flipping out.”

“Over what?” She tilted her head and squinted at him as if he were joking.

“I wanted more than a fling, but I didn’t know how to ask. I thought you would turn me down because…well, I’m a fucking disaster.” A shrug and a wry grin fell from him.

“A self-fulfilling prophecy.” She covered her mouth with one hand, half-laughing yet on the verge of tears. “You know, I fell asleep psyching myself up so that in the morning, I’d admit I hoped we could see each other after the week was out. If I’d only said something right then…”

“It’s
not
your fault.”

“Everyone keeps saying that to me. That doesn’t stop it from feeling like it was sometimes.” She sniffled then dabbed her eyes with her napkin.

The food arrived, interrupting them. Rather than ruin their meal with things they couldn’t change, they both took a break from the heavy conversation and switched their attention to the decadent indulgences that graced their table in course after course.

Between bites, they talked about easy things like what was going on with the Powertools and Hot Rods. The baby. Quinn, and how he’d be a hell of a man one day. Buster McHightops, Sir Clawdius Fuzzington and their dog-love-cat-hate relationship. Events she had in the works and the new developments on Hot Rides.

He’d forgotten how great it was to share those simple pleasures with her. In no time, they had picked up almost where they’d left off and were proving all over again that they clicked. Big time.

So when they polished off a chocolate raspberry tart for dessert then fell back in their chairs, clasping their full guts, he couldn’t help wishing she was on the menu. Making the same mistake as last time wasn’t an option. With everything to gain and nothing to lose, he confessed point-blank, “Amber, I still want you. Not only for tonight, but also…for something more.”

“Gavyn, I’m sorry. I can’t agree to a long-term or committed relationship right now. I still can’t believe you’re even here. But…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still want you too. You know I do, right?” She put her face in her hand and peeked through her fingers at him as she confessed.

“Yeah, love.” He chuckled without malice at her discomfort. “It was pretty obvious when you jammed your tongue down my throat earlier and when your hard nipples were poking holes in my back on the way here.”

“Maybe I was cold!” she objected.

“Right. In the middle of summer?” He shook his head. “No. If there’s anything I’m sure about, it’s that you and I have crazy once-in-a-lifetime chemistry.”

“So…what if I don’t want to waste that while I’m thinking about the rest?”

If he still had been chewing, he’d have choked and ended their date—because it was
definitely
a date—with Amber giving him the Heimlich maneuver.

“Did you just say you want to sleep with me?” he asked, his pupils dilating as a grin spread across his face, slow and sexy.

“Kind of.” She shrugged one slender shoulder. “Fine. Yes. Will you come back to my house tonight, Gavyn?”

“Check, please!”