Burning Up (20 page)

“I hit L.A. with nothing more than a high school education and the ability to role-play.” She gave him a little smile. “I decided that qualified me to be an actor and decided to give Hollywood the benefit of my brilliance. Mostly that meant waiting tables and catching a bit part here or there. When I auditioned for a character that was barely more than a walk-on in the Aussie Kiss video and Jack picked me for a larger role, I had no idea it was going to be the beginning of a new career. I don’t think anyone knew how big that video would become.”

Feeling faintly exposed to be discussing a subject with him that no one except her family had ever bothered to ask her about—at least in this town—she decided it was time to change the conversational
direction. She gave him a sultry smile and trailed a fingernail from his shoulder to his collarbone, then over a hard pectoral muscle to the flat disk of his nipple. She pouted and heaved a sigh. “
Now
will you get another condom?”

“Wait. This is good stuff. Tell me more.”

She flashed him a knowing smile. “You just wanna talk so you don’t have to disclose you’re not up to another performance, don’tcha? It’s okay. You can admit it.”

“Funny girl. Me big man.” Leaning on one elbow, Gabe thumped his chest and felt like laughing. He’d never met a woman who made him feel so…playful. That wasn’t generally something he carried in his social bag of tricks. Instead, he gave her an arrogant look down the bridge of his nose. “I’ll have you know I can perform anywhere, any way.”

“Uh-huh. Just how old
are
you, anyhow?”

“Thirty-four.”

“Ah, well, then. Take all the time you need. I didn’t realize you were a senior citizen. Holy crap, you’re halfway to seventy—I’m amazed you made it through
one
session.”

“Why, you little—” Pushing up onto his palms, he looked down at her and almost laughed at the self-satisfied smirk she gave him. Instead, he gave her a faux scowl and, climbing to his feet, snatched his jeans from the floor where he’d kicked them off. He extracted his wallet, which was closer than the chest, fished out a condom and tossed it to her.

She snatched it out of the air. “We’d best get this on you, hadn’t we? Before—you know.” Holding up an erect finger, she caught his eye as she allowed the digit to droop.

“Okay, that tears it, sister.” Falling forward onto his hands and knees on the end of the mattress, he prowled up the bed to her. “You are
so
gonna eat your words. But first—” He dropped onto his stomach between her legs, which he grasped by the ankles to arrange over his shoulders, then splayed his fingers against her stomach to hold her in place. “We need to get you back up to speed.”

“That’s okay,” she protested unexpectedly. “I’m good.”

Touched by her sudden look of uncertainty—so much for Macy the sex kitten—he pressed a kiss into her firm inner thigh. Used the tip of his tongue to trace the crease where it joined her groin. Breathed a heated exhalation across the plump lips of her sex as he raised his head to bestow identical attention on her other thigh. Not until he felt her hips commence a gentle bump and grind, lifting toward his mouth, then contracting into the mattress when she failed to make contact, did he glide the thumb and index fingers of his free hand along the slippery cleft on either side of her clitoris. “There you are,” he whispered as the tiny organ peeked out of its hood. Giving it a soft pinch, he glanced up to see Macy’s head drop back. He lowered his own head. And licked.

She wilted onto her back, reaching out to grip his hair. But not to push him away.

He got so into the flavors, the textures of her that he nearly let it get away from him. When he realized she was getting close—much closer than he’d intended—he pushed back.

“Where’s that rubber?” he demanded, looking around the rumpled sheets. Spotting it on his own, he snatched it up. But when he looked up from ripping its wrapper open a moment later, it was to see her hand slipping between her legs.

“Uh-uh-uh.” Grabbing her wrist, he pulled it away. “None of that—when you come, I plan to be right there with you. Here.” He handed her the opened packet. “Put this on me, okay?”

She did, and then he was sliding inside of her and feeling his eyes all but roll back in his head at the slick, muscular heat pulling, stroking, damn near milking him. He had to grit his teeth and recite the multiplication tables to keep from ejaculating before he had the chance to get her off.

Luckily, he didn’t have long to wait. For while Macy wasn’t a screamer, she had her own escalating little moan that he loved to hear, as it was a sure precursor to her satisfaction. She started in now, low and sweet, growing gradually less quiet and infinitely grittier in tone the closer he brought her to the edge. Until finally, digging her nails into his back, she shot right over it, that hot sheath clamping down on his dick like a silk-encased, hot-cream-filled iron fist.
And he followed only seconds behind, free-falling into an infinity of knee-howling pleasure.

This time when the last shudder of satisfaction faded and gravity kicked in to poleax him, he was careful not to flatten her. Yet even as he held himself above her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down. His weight pressed the air from her lungs in an audible whoosh, but she merely smiled against his neck.

“There,” she said with sleepy satisfaction. “That’s better.”

And he knew then that he was in big trouble. Because this was starting to feel less and less casual by the minute. He couldn’t say exactly what it was he felt for Macy. But he knew this much.

It wasn’t the least bit casual.

E
VERYTHING WILL BE DANDY
,
if I just keep this…whatever it is with Gabriel…casual.
But as Macy headed for the boardinghouse kitchen, she was less than thrilled with her plan. The main problem was that she and Gabe had gotten together an additional four times since last week’s encounter—and making love with him hadn’t felt casual. Intense, amazing, connective, yes. Casual, not so much.

Still, there was no rule saying she couldn’t be more guylike and just take it one red-hot session at a time, was there? That was undoubtedly what Gabe was doing. It remained to be seen whether she could pull it off, but hey, if
he
could, she should be able to, as well.

Spotting her aunt at the worktable as she entered the kitchen, she shoved everything else aside and joined the older woman. “I got Ty off with the Brand X grandparents,” she said, pulling out a chair across the table and taking a seat. “And George delivered the mail so I brought it in.” She slid the stack over to Lenore. “Need some help snapping those beans?”

“You bet—I never turn down help.” Lenore moved
the large pottery bowl of string beans to the middle of the table and picked up the mail to quickly sort through it. She stopped at a letter midway through the pile. “Oh, dear.” With a sympathetic grimace, she handed it back to Macy.

She looked at the letter she’d written her mother before leaving Redondo Beach. Given the thickness of the long, skinny labels along the envelope’s bottom edge, it had been forwarded two or three times before some postal employee had finally stamped it with a telltale purple hand pointing its Return to Sender finger. “Well, this is par for the course. My personal best getting a letter through before Mom moves again is one in three—and since the last one, or maybe it was the one before, reached her…”

“I’m sorry, baby girl.”

“Nah, don’t be.” She hitched a shoulder. “You’ll notice I put your return address on it instead of my own—and I mailed the thing before I left to come up here. I sometimes feel like I’m wasting my time writing, but having my mail miss or chase Mom sure beats those years I spent living with her when we pulled up stakes once or twice a month. And she calls every few months.”

Lenore looked less than convinced, so Macy flashed her an extra-sunny smile. “It really is okay, Auntie.” Reaching into the pottery bowl, she pulled out a fistful of green beans and began systematically snapping off the ends. If there was maybe the tiniest niggling in her stomach, well, she knew from
experience it would pass—and probably sooner rather than later, as that seemed to be truer the farther away from childhood she moved.

She and the woman who in her heart of hearts she considered her real mother drank iced tea and exchanged comfortable conversation as they snapped their way through the big bowl of beans. Drawing a deep breath, she said, “I think maybe I’ll go to our ten-year reunion after all, if Janna feels up to attending.”

“Good for you,” Lenore approved. “I’m tickled to hear it.”

Macy swallowed her immediate desire to take it back and dedicated herself to the beans for a minute or two to avoid telegraphing her doubts. When she looked up again, it was to catch her aunt studying her braided hair and makeup-free face. Oh, she had on lip balm and mascara, but as far as she was concerned that was the same thing.

Lenore gave her a fond smile. “You look about sixteen years old.”

“I
feel
kind of naked. But I told Gabriel I’d help him paint his basement.” She snorted. “That’s prettying it up—painting was the price he demanded, the bastard, for letting me select a nice neutral color instead of the boring white he was leaning toward.” She waved the digression away with impatient fingers. “Anyway, it seemed sorta pointless to get all gussied up when I’ll probably just end up splattered with paint.”

She glanced at the old schoolhouse clock on the wall. “He had some work to do this morning but said he’d be back to pick me up around noon.”

“So.” Lenore smiled. “You and Gabe, huh?”

“Oh, no, it’s not like—we’re not a
couple
or anything!”

Her aunt merely looked at her and Macy squirmed. “That is—” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Oh, hell. I don’t know what we are.” She took an inordinate amount of time getting the next bean snapped just right. “When I’m with him,” she admitted in a low voice. “It feels kinda—right. No. More than kind of.
Right
right, y’know? But the minute I’m on my own again, I start picking it to pieces.”

She looked up. “I’ve never had a relationship with a guy that’s lasted more than a couple of months. And in truth, Auntie? I don’t think I have what it takes to stick with anyone for the long haul. I’m not even sure I know how to love.”

“What hogwash,” Lenore said. “You have the biggest heart of anyone I know.” She reached across to wrap her work-worn fingers around Macy’s and squeeze. “You think someone lacking the ability to love would just drop everything to come running the minute we asked for help?”

Macy waved the bean in her free hand. “That’s family love. It’s the romantic kind I’m afraid I don’t have the chops to sustain.”

“Trust me, you’ve got love to spare for that, as well. Honey, Bud isn’t your blood relative, but have
you ever considered him anything other than your family?”

“Of course not! But he’s
been
part of my life for as long as I can remember.”

“All right, then take Jack. I’ve watched the two of you, and you couldn’t treat him more like a brother if he was one. The point is, baby girl, most people create their families as they go along. Love in any guise boils down to trust. And communication. So you take some time today to get to know Gabe in ways other than just the sexual.
Talk
to the boy.” Releasing Macy’s hand, she sat back and gave her a lopsided smile. “You might be surprised what you discover.”

L
ENORE’S WORDS PLAYED
through Macy’s head as she and Gabriel rolled out of his air bed an hour or so later and got serious about arranging their painting gear. Because her aunt was right: they’d been using great sex to avoid actually talking to each other for the past week.

Okay,
she
had been more so than Gabriel. He’d tried several times to start a conversation that had more depth than their usual banter, but except for that once when she’d told him a little of how she got into music videos, she’d changed the subject or used sex to divert his attention. Much as she hated to admit it, she’d let insecurity over her ability to sustain a relationship and fear of failure should she turn out
to be every bit as lousy at it as she suspected she’d be keep her from even trying.

She opened her mouth now to initiate a conversation but allowed the busywork of laying tarps and getting out rollers, paint trays and brushes to sidetrack her. Finally she said, “It must have taken forever to tape all this woodwork.”

That wasn’t so stinkin’ hard. And while it was a long poke from deep, it was a start.

“No shit, it took up all my free time last night.” He squatted in front of the hearth where he’d spread out newspapers and opened a can of paint. “Hey,” he said. “This is
nice.
”

She gave him a droll look. “Should I be insulted that you sound so surprised?”

“No, it’s just…” Glancing up at her, he shrugged. “You kept saying the place needed a nice earth tone, but I didn’t have a clue what that meant, since it could be anything from grass green to sunset orange. I like this. It’s a color, but not a set-the-wall-to-screaming one.” His brows furrowed as he read the lid. “Huh. This says Bennington Gray, but it looks more like one of those fancy steamed-milk and whipped-cream drinks at Starbucks.”

They discussed color names and who came up with them as Gabe used a brush to cut in paint from the ceiling molding. The topic ran its course about the time he finished across the top and squatted to begin the same process in from the floorboards. Macy picked up her roller, climbed the ladder he’d
set up for her and started filling the gap between the two. But after they’d been silent for a while, she took a deep breath, quietly blew it out—and finally brought up the subject she’d been avoiding all week. Closely watching her color blend into the paint he’d cut in, she said casually, “So, have you heard the news about Jack and Grace?”

She felt rather than saw him look up at her. “What about them?”

“They’re having a fling. Well, it might actually be more than a fling—at least on Jack’s part. He seems to think he could be in love with her.”

“Yeah? Are you okay with that?”

“Me?”
Roller halting midapplication, she stared down at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?
I’m
not the one who’s been acting—”
Uh, probably not a good idea to go there, Mace.

“How have I been acting? That is your implication, I take it. That I’ve been acting out in some way?”

She declined to answer and he rose to his feet. Came up to where she perched on the stepladder, his hands on his lean hips as he gave her a slow once-over. “
How
have I been acting, Macy?” It was a low-voiced demand, but a demand all the same.

“Jealous,” she snapped. “Okay? Every time you’ve seen Jack and Grace together, you’ve acted crazy jealous.”

He stared at her with his mouth ajar for a moment…then burst out laughing.

Her eyebrows snapped together. “What’s so damn funny?”

“I wasn’t jealous of
Grace
with Jack, you twit. I wanted to rip his head from his shoulders over you.”

“What?”

“You heard me. If I’ve been acting jealous around him—and I object to the
crazy
portion of that claim—it’s because I thought he and you had a thing going.”

“Are you crazy? Jack’s like the brother I never had.”

“I’m happy to hear it—not to mention totally get the concept. Because no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise when we were dating, Grace always felt too much like a sister to me. So as long as Jack’s not using her simply to amuse himself while he’s in town, I’m good with whatever Grace chooses to do.”

“He’s not like that, Gabe. But that’s fair enough.” She leaned down, pressed a kiss on his lips, then straightened to give him a quirky smile. “So you were jealous over me, huh?”

“Maybe a little.” He smacked her on the butt and went back to his painting. “But I wouldn’t plan on thinking that means you’re gonna get your way from here on out if I were you.”

Macy turned her attention back to the job, but she was aware of a happy sort of warmth infusing her.

A while later she said, “I never hear you talk about your family.”

He stilled for a moment, then rolled his wide shoulders. “That’s because there’s not much to say. I’m an only child of an only child, so I don’t have much in the way of relatives.”

“Are your parents gone, then?”

“Damned if I know. I never met my old man, so I have no idea if he’s dead or alive. As for my mother, well, given her lifestyle she may well be six feet under. She was still kicking when I turned eighteen and left foster care, but I haven’t actually seen or heard from her in the twenty years since she decided I was cramping her style and dumped me in the system.”

If he was thirty-five, that would have made him—“Your mother abandoned you when you were
fourteen?
” Macy didn’t know why she received the news like a body blow, but she wanted to hug him, to cover him in kisses. And she wanted to track down his mother if the woman was still alive and bitch-slap her into next Tuesday. Instinctively knowing he wouldn’t welcome anything he’d construe as pity, however, she forced herself to say in a matter-of-fact tone, “Well, that sucks big-time.”

His big shoulders rolled. “It did at the time. I don’t really care anymore. But what’s your story?”

“Mine?”

“I know you’re close to Bud and Lenore, but what about your parents?”

This was supposed to be her getting to know him—she didn’t want to talk about
her.

But even as the thought struck, she could see how one-sided it was. She blew out a soft breath. “I didn’t know my dad, either. My folks were married, but he died when I was too young to remember. My mother, though? Well, Mom isn’t Mother of the Year material, either. She dragged me from town to town until my biggest dream was a stable place to call home.”

“Why’d she move so often?”

“You got me.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but felt a twinge of her old unhappy frustration over the fact that her mom would never discuss it. She’d simply packed them up with an aggravating cheerfulness and hit the road again despite knowing how much Macy hated it. “I guess she was looking for something. She never found it, apparently, because she still is.” Her shoulder hitched. “I don’t know, I hardly ever hear from her.” She shook off the touch of unease this topic gave her and told Gabriel the definitive thing that made it all okay. “But I had Auntie Lenore and Uncle Bud.”

“You were lucky there.”

“No foolin’. Having them for role models is like holding the winning ticket in the Mega Millions lottery. They made all the difference in how I turned out. Well, the good parts of me, anyhow. I take full blame for the rest.”

Once again she turned her attention to her paint job, but now that the lines of communication had
been breached, she found herself wild to learn more. “So,” she demanded as she climbed down to move her ladder along the wall a couple of feet, “what first got you interested in firefighting?”

G
REAT DAY
. Gabe knotted a towel around his hips, whistling off-key as he leaned into the big mirror of the boardinghouse’s upstairs bathroom and used his inner forearm to wipe a clear space in the steamy surface before reaching for the shave gel. Squirting a blob into his palm, he used his fingers to spank it into foam, then spread it on his face. Picking up his razor, he cut a smooth swath through the shaving cream and turned on the faucet to rinse the blade clean.

Even though Macy had spent a decent amount of time with him this past week, he’d had the feeling she was, if not actively avoiding him any longer, still holding back. But today—well, today she’d really opened up for the first time. She’d
talked.
Asked questions and answered his. And he’d liked it. He’d liked it big-time.