“Considering what?” he cut her off, his tone harsh. “You walked out of my life, and now you show up at my door out of nowhere, laying all of this on me. If you’re looking for a shoulder to cry on, I’m not your guy.” He rose from his chair and padded into the kitchen, flinging open one of the cabinets. Yanking a bottle of bourbon from the shelf, he poured himself a shot and tossed it back. “I’m sorry to hear about your father—I honestly am—but I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Gavin, I came here because you’re the only person in the whole world who really knows and understands me,” she gasped, her tear-stained eyes wounded. “You know my mother left us. I have no one. How can you be so heartless?”
“Yeah, I’m the heartless one. I learned from the best; let’s not forget that. If you need money, just fucking say it already. Goddammit!” he snapped, slamming the shot glass down on the counter so hard that Gina jumped, startled by his anger.
Somewhere in between the spiked level of adrenaline coursing its way through his veins and her sobbing, Gavin faintly registered the sound of his cell phone ringing in the office. For a moment, he felt as though his feet were frozen to the ground. He couldn’t believe that the woman who’d hurt him so badly and put him through so much heartbreak was sitting on his sofa—asking him to alleviate her pain. Shaking his head, Gavin finally turned away from her without another word and shuffled out of the living room to answer the call.
By the time he made it into his office, it had stopped ringing. Picking it up, his heart dropped when he realized it was Emily that’d called. He reclined himself into his leather chair, stabbed his passcode into the damn thing, and retrieved the message she had left for him.
“Well, hello there, wiseass. I know it’s pretty late, and I was about to go to bed myself, but I just wanted to call and thank you for one of the best nights and days of my life. I know you and I have a tough ride ahead of us…” She paused and lowered her voice. “But as afraid of all of this as I was, I’m not scared anymore, Gavin. I’m really not. You depleted me of any doubts that I had about us. I don’t know. I’m just rambling on now, but I wanted you to know that I do love you, and I’m excited to see just how amazing we’re going to be together. I’ll see you tomorrow night. Sweet dreams.”
Gavin lost count of the amount of times he listened to Emily’s message, her voice like an angel amid the nightmare that was in sitting in his living room. Sighing, he scrubbed his palms over his face and debated on sending her a text. He decided against it, considering she said she was going to bed.
Rising from his chair, he made his way back into the living room—only to find his nightmare ex laying on his couch sound asleep, wearing only her sweater and panties. On the floor, next to her jeans, the bottle of bourbon was tipped on its side nearly empty.
“How can a day so fucking good end so badly?” he mumbled to himself as he moved across the room toward the couch. “Gina,” he said, leaning over her as he nudged her shoulder. “You need to leave.”
She swatted her hand at him but severely missed her mark. “I’m too drunk to go anywhere, Gav,” she slurred. “Don’t worry; I won’t steal your millions while you’re asleep.”
“No, Gina, you’re not sleeping here,” he replied, his voice insistent. “Get up.”
“Pick me up if you want me out then,” she said, giggling as she reached for the blanket.
Gavin cringed because the blanket she was now draping across her drunken body was the blanket that he’d spent the day tucked underneath with Emily.
He pretty much decided that he would torch it after this.
“I’m not picking you up. You’re not even dressed,” he said, his voice showing his patience was wearing thin by the second. He nudged her shoulder again. “Get up, Gina. I’m not kidding.”
She didn’t verbally answer. However, her light snoring did all the talking, showing signs that she wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
Picking up the bottle from the floor, Gavin walked into the kitchen and emptied the rest of its contents into the sink. Letting out a heavy sigh, he chucked it into the garbage, leaned himself against the counter, and grudgingly peered at Gina from across the room. Short of removing her, couch and all, Gavin resigned himself to the fact that she was indeed staying the night. With that, he flipped the lights off and headed into his bedroom, his muscles tensing with aggravation and anger with every step he took. It was well after midnight by the time Gavin climbed into bed. It was also well after midnight when he decided that his conversation with Emily tomorrow night would be about more than just Dillon. It would also consist of his unexpected house guest sleeping over.
He only prayed that Emily would understand.
Chapter Seventeen
Master of Trickery
Gavin felt her hands sliding down his neck as her warm fingertips traced his pectorals and ultimately inched their way down his abdomen. He couldn’t help but smile at the sensations she brought to him; it was utterly impossible not to. As her hand dipped below the sweatpants she was now pulling off his body, he felt her silken hair drape over the flare of his naked hips. Gavin sucked in a deep lungful of air when her tongue licked over his hardened arousal, swirling languorous circles along its tip. With his eyes still closed, he fisted the top of her hair as her head steadily bobbed up and down—her mouth taking in every hard inch of him, her tongue greedily flicking for his juices. He could hear the sound of her cheeks hollowing and unhollowing with each naughty pull she took, and—goddamn—it was driving him nuts. Needing to take in the beautiful sight of the woman he so desperately loved sucking him off into absolute oblivion, he leaned himself up on his elbows and found his worst nightmare staring back—her eyes wicked as she continued her exploration of him.
Gina.
Gavin flew back against his headboard only to find it was just a nightmare and nothing more.
Plowing his hands through his dampened hair, he let out a sigh of relief, his body breaking out into a cold sweat as his eyes flew across his empty bedroom. With his heart slamming through his chest, he sat up on the edge of his bed, and without hesitation, he made his way into the living room.
“Gina, you have to get up,” he called out, padding into the kitchen where he started brewing some much-needed coffee.
The thought of adding alcohol to his mug became very appealing, considering the mess lying on his couch, but he decided to forgo it. Before dozing off to sleep last night, Gavin decided to call Gina’s brother and found out that her whole story was a lie—one huge bullshit-filled lie that Gavin figured was some sick ploy to either get him back or get money from him. Her brother confirmed that their father was indeed in another gambling mess, but he was alive and well, hiding out in Mexico. Gavin decided he would play a little game with her since he was never one to let anybody off that easily.
She mumbled something inaudible and pulled the blanket over her body as she turned her back to him, waving him off as if he was the nuisance on this fine Monday morning.
“I’m serious. You have to get the hell up. Let’s not forget you have a funeral to plan. And, at this point, it may not be for Daddy with the mood you have me in.” He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and looked to his watch, noting the time to be a quarter past seven. Gina didn’t move, so he figured he would up the ante. “I’ve never physically assaulted a woman in my entire life, but you have me second-guessing my morals. Get up. Now.”
That caught her attention.
Sluggishly, she sat up and rubbed her hands over her eyes. “Why are you in such a rush to get me out of here?” she asked, yawning.