Breathless (17 page)

Missed the crazy woman who’d named a calf Ralph.

Gabe looked up to see over a dozen people he’d known all his life staring at him. Waiting.

His mother lifted one eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. “You miss her so much, what are you waiting for? An invitation?”

He opened his mouth to deny her words, but thought better of it. Why bother? He
did
miss her and he didn’t care who knew it. Her friendship meant a lot to him, more than he could’ve imagined.

Besides, he wanted to return her shoes. He’d picked them up after she’d kicked them off in the park, bolting out of sight like the devil himself was on her heels. They now sat on the passenger seat of his pickup, waiting for the woman they belonged to. He wanted to find out what the hell Millie had said to make her look at him like he’d run over her dog.

He spun in the doorway of his mother’s bakery and jumped the two small steps to the sidewalk. His truck was parked right out front. He’d seen Emma’s pickup while on his way to her home and had decided to stop and see her here instead. He hadn’t expected there to be so many people in the shop at this time of the afternoon, all watching with curious eyes.

From his toes up, relief washed through Gabe when he saw Emma’s truck parked near her porch steps.

Pulling up next to her pickup, he cut his engine and climbed out. Leaning over, he hooked the high-heeled slingbacks over his finger and took a deep breath, striding toward the front door.

Looking at the jamb beside the door when he knocked, he noticed the paint was no longer peeling. The peeling bits had been scraped off and sanded and was all ready to paint. Perhaps she’d let him help as a way to say he was sorry. She obviously didn’t need his help, but it would let him spend time with her.

The door opened, and Emma’s startled face appeared. Her eyes had a suspicious redness to them, and he called himself every name he could think of. He’d somehow managed to upset her, again.

“Hi.”

Good one, Gabe. Next you’ll ask something stupid, like how are you?

Emma tried to smile, but gave up. “What do you want?”

Well. That’s a good start.

He played the only card he had and held up her shoes. “I have your shoes. From the other night,” he expanded unnecessarily.

“Oh.” Her face shadowed and shut all expression down.

Didn’t she want them back?

At a loss for what to do, Gabe held the heels higher. “Where would you like them?”

She pointed to the other end of the porch, at the old swing barely hanging on by rusted chains. “Over there is fine. See you later.” She went to shut the door.

Gabe’s foot shot out. The door slammed his work boot between it and the jamb, the resounding
thud
tearing a gasp from Emma’s mouth.

Emma threw the door open, alarmed eyes wide. “Your foot! I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

Gabe couldn’t help the grin that surfaced. She was worried about his foot. Maybe she did care enough to restart their friendship.

He held up the foot in question and twisted his ankle to show her he was fine. “Steel capped. Comes in handy.”

Residual fear turned to anger in the space of a heartbeat. Her lips pressed hard together, and she crossed her arms over her chest. He noticed with a start that she must have been in the middle of changing clothes when he’d knocked. Her shirt was different, a tee-shirt now instead of the loose blouse she’d had on in the shop.

That wasn’t what caught his attention though.

Beneath the tight material of her tee-shirt, her breasts rested above her crossed arms.

Oh hell. She’s not wearing a bra.

Sucking a desperate breath into suddenly empty lungs, he tore his gaze from the sight, the temptation to take hold of her almost too strong to control.

“Was there something specific you wanted, or are you just here to gloat?”

That caught his attention, dragging it back from dangerous waters. “Gloat? About what?”

Emma let out a disgusted sigh and turned on her heel. She stalked down the hall and into the living room on the right. Gabe shut the door and followed her, determined to find out what she meant by that last comment.

“What exactly am I gloating about?” he asked as he came around the doorway. Emma turned, surprise washing over her distressed face at his presence in her home.

“I thought you’d leave.” She dashed a hand beneath her eyes and glared at him. “As if you don’t know, Mr. I’m-So-Bloody-Wonderful! I thought we were friends, and then…” Emma cut off her words and glared at him, daring him to contradict her.

“So did I. And you
hit
me. Okay, I may have been out of line kissing you like that, but I sure didn’t expect a slap across my face. A simple ‘don’t do that again’ would’ve sufficed.”

Gabe took a moment to think, knowing his next words could make or break any future friendship. “What did Millie say to you that hurt you so badly? She swears she didn’t say anything, but she must have for you to get so upset.”

“She’s right, she didn’t say anything
to
me. I was in the bathroom when she and her friends came in. They didn’t know I was there. Millie started on about how I was such a joke, what everyone really thinks of me. She said you refused to be put on the list—you admitted to that—and that you think I’m…that I’m…
leftovers
.”

Emma’s eyes threatened to overflow, but she continued, her voice quiet in the silent room. “She said you didn’t want to help with the house—and that’s fine—but don’t pretend like you do when it’s not your idea. She said you think I’m nothing but trash who no one would want to date after the initial thrill wore off. That Pete felt sorry for me, and that’s the only reason he asked me to dinner.”

Gabe stared at her, shock turning his blood to ice. “How could you believe that? Yes, I refused that stupid damn list. You know that. It wasn’t because I thought you were…or are leftovers. Dammit, Emma! I refused initially because I thought it was a stupid idea to begin with—one of Ryan’s harebrained schemes. He thought he’d win and have a huge kitty to take you out with in Pueblo. Show you a good night out.”

He didn’t add that Ryan was hoping like crazy she’d want to have sex with him afterward. He ignored the cramping of his gut when he thought of his friend with her like that. It was none of his business.

“If you were the kind of girl that Millie said, you would’ve gotten into the whole wager thing and been dating within days of arriving here. Of course I know you’re not like that. And Pete never felt sorry for you. He likes you. You made him feel special, like someone worth talking to. All from one night of sitting down to have a drink with him that first time you went out with Darb. And do you think that’s a lie as well? That Darby doesn’t really like you?”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Gabe waited until Emma answered.

“No, of course not. She’s not like that.” Emma raised her sad gaze to his. “If it’s all lies, why would Millie say that in there? She didn’t know I was there.”

Gabe let out a bark of laughter. “Oh yes, she did. She watched you go in there and followed you. She wants to get rid of you—and she nearly succeeded.”

Emma’s confusion was obvious. A wash of sympathy followed by fear at the thought of her leaving delved deep into Gabe’s insides and burrowed where he couldn’t dig it out.

“Then why did you kiss me? I thought you were just…” Emma waved her hand in the air, struggling for words.

“I don’t know why I kissed you.”
Liar. You kissed her because you wanted her—
still
want her.
Gabe ignored the annoying voice in his head and spat out the first thing he thought of. “You were upset. I thought it would help.”

Oh heck
. He was getting into more trouble every time he opened his mouth.

Time to lay it on the table and see if he could salvage anything from this mess.

“I want our friendship back. I miss talking to you, seeing you. I did something stupid and I’m sorry.”

Emma blinked and stepped back. “So, the stupid thing you did—that was kiss me, right? And now you’re sorry?”

Gabe didn’t like the tone of her voice when she said it like that. He nodded slowly, knowing he’d just said something wrong. Wasn’t he supposed to say he was sorry? “Yes.”

A flush spread up her face, anger swallowing the remaining tears in her eyes. “You’re an ass, you know that?” She stalked past him and fled into the kitchen, spinning to face him when he followed her into the room. “What do you want from me? What, Gabe? I don’t understand,” she demanded, anger suffusing her face.

“Nothing! I don’t want a thing from you. Just your friendship.” He held up his hands, at a loss to explain himself any better. “I like you, okay? I want to spend time with you, but as friends, nothing more. I’m not interested in you.”

What could he say to make her forgive him? To make her want to spend time with him again? To make this gnawing emptiness in his gut go away?

Emma’s face closed over. “Good. That’s fine by me. This all sounds very familiar. Didn’t we agree on this weeks ago? Why bring it up again?”

Gabe crossed his arms over his chest and stepped closer to where she was standing near the counter. “Because every idiot I come in contact with seems to think the opposite, that’s why. I’m sick of telling them we’re only friends and I don’t want you getting hurt from any misconceptions. I shouldn’t have to explain myself every five minutes.” Frustration tinged every word.

Emma shook her head at him, her own annoyance obvious. “What has this got to do with me?
I’m
not the one saying that nonsense. I’m not attracted to you either, so go tell someone who is!”

Gabe was so angry he felt like screaming. She was lying again. He’d felt the heat when they kissed. It had been real. “Great! At least we agree on that.” He strode over to stand directly in front of her. “I am not attracted to you,” he repeated. He grasped the back of her head, her soft hair winding around the back of his hand, entrapping him, entrancing him. “I’m
not
,” he ground out between clenched teeth before his mouth crashed into hers.

Shock waves fired through Emma’s entire body at the taste of Gabe’s mouth on hers. Silver fire shot along every vein, screaming down into every nerve as his tongue opened her lips and plunged into her mouth.

Her hands slid up his shirt, around his neck and into his hair, her fingers twisting and grabbing handfuls, holding him to her. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but feel him against her, around her—enveloping her.

Oh God, she didn’t want it to stop.

She’d been fighting her attraction to Gabe since the first day she’d seen him, keeping it hidden and controlled so as to let their friendship grow instead. She’d thought it better to have him as a friend. But she couldn’t fight it anymore. Not with him kissing her, tasting her, owning her with just his mouth.

He had reasons why he didn’t want to be involved with anyone, but so did she. Emma didn’t want to be responsible for anyone again. Never to be put in that position of trust. Not when it could so easily be taken away.

No one seemed to have told her body that. She could not stop herself from reacting to him—any more than she could stop the spin of the earth—and his pull was far stronger than that.

His hands slid down her back to her bottom, pulling her against him. His moan at the feel of her body against his set her skin on fire. Gabe’s hand slipped around, sliding up beneath her tee-shirt to lay claim to her breast. Emma sucked in a desperate breath at feeling his hand on her bare skin, her nipples reacting so thoroughly it was impossible to miss.

She wanted his touch, didn’t want him to stop.

Her body’s reaction to his hand didn’t go unnoticed. Gabe tore his mouth from hers as he yanked up her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the floor. His mouth replaced his hand on her breast, his lips and tongue devouring her. First laving one nipple, then the other.

Emma’s cry echoed through the room. It was getting too hard to breathe.

Leaving her aching breasts, Gabe’s mouth returned to hers. He raided the depths of her mouth, stealing all strength from her legs. Lifting her up to sit on the edge of the kitchen counter, his strong hands urged Emma’s knees apart to place himself between them.

He slipped his hands beneath her skirt, bunching it up around her thighs, and grazed his hands along her legs to slip under her bottom, pulling her against him.

The hardness of his erection was obvious—even beneath the thick material of his jeans—as was its insistence, straining to be released as he pressed himself against her. Emma pressed herself against him, needing the touch—the pressure—needing him.

“I want you.”

Her whispered words had Gabe’s fingers digging into the soft skin of her ass as they moved and tugged on the sides of her panties. Apparently finding no easy way of removal, Emma heard the soft material tear, the remains of the once expensive underwear flung heedlessly to the floor.

The sound of a zipper sliding down sifted through her consciousness, but failed to make an impact. Gabe’s mouth was too distracting, nipping and tasting and sucking at hers. The significance of the sound permeated her brain only when Gabe’s hands returned to beneath her rear end and lifted.