“Good.” He grins and rubs his nose against mine again. His breath smells sweet from a scone he must have eaten before he came in here to find me. And just when I think he’s going to kiss me, and I mean really kiss me, he kisses my forehead and then backs away.
“Where are you going?”
“To tell Sam more stories about last season. He told me about his trip tomorrow.” He tosses me a mischievous smile. “I’m going to have you all to myself for a week.”
“Eight days,” I reply automatically, making his smile widen.
“Eight days. So, I’ll give Sam some attention tonight, and then you’re all mine for eight days.”
I frown and prop my hands on my hips, but inside I’m squealing like a teenager.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re going to exercise that flirty side, sugar.”
And with that, he winks and leaves the kitchen, and I’m left standing in a puddle of lust.
Jesus, what did I just start?
Chapter Four
~Rhys~
She’s a mess of gorgeous chaos.
And the kicker is, you’d never fucking know it. But the struggle is there, behind her smile, in her eyes. I’ve learned her face, and I’ve known her just over a week. She’s beautiful, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to that, but it’s the whole package that has me tied in knots for the first time in… Jesus, I don’t remember. She’s funny, strong, kind. She’s stern with Sam, but loving and affectionate, too, and it’s obvious that the boy simply adores her.
But right now, she’s sad. And it makes my stomach clench.
“Mom, it’s going to be okay.” Sam smiles up at his mom as he slips his baseball cap on his head. “All of the guests are gone, so you won’t need me the rest of the day.”
“Silly boy,” she replies and crouches down next to him, her smile firmly in place. “I need you every day. Not just around here, but because I’ve grown attached to you.” She smacks a kiss on his cheek, making him cringe and look my way, worried that his manliness might be in trouble.
I’d give just about anything to have her lips on me.
I smile at Sam and shrug, as if to say, “Women. What can you do?” Sam rolls his eyes and hugs his mom.
“Nannan will be here soon,” Gabby says, but doesn’t let him go quite yet. “And you’re going to have so much fun.”
“I know,” he replies just as Gabby’s mom pulls into the driveway. Sam and Gabby walk out to the car, and I follow more slowly, staying on the porch as they say goodbye.
“Hello, dawlin’,” Mrs. Boudreaux says with a wide smile. “Are you ready for our adventure, Sam?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam says with a grin then turns and waves at me. “Bye, Mr. Rhys!”
“Have fun,” I reply with a wave and a smile. Goodbyes are said, hugs exchanged, and finally, Sam and his grandmother are pulling out of the driveway. Gabby doesn’t move, watching them drive away, waving with a smile. When the car disappears around the corner, her hand falls at her side and her shoulders droop. She props her hands on her hips and looks to the ground.
Part of me is torn between letting her have her private moment and going to her, wrapping her in my arms, and holding on tight.
Then she kicks a rock, and she looks so damn sad I can’t stand it. I walk down the steps and up behind her, wrap my arms around her shoulders and kiss her head, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair. She’s such a small thing, fitting against me perfectly, tucked under my chin. She doesn’t say anything, simply holds onto my arms and sighs, then tips her head way back so she can look into my eyes, upside down.
I automatically kiss her forehead. “Only be gone a week.”
“Eight days,” she replies with a rough whisper.
“But who’s counting?” I murmur and kiss her smooth skin once more before she turns in my arms and hugs me tightly around the middle, the way she did in her kitchen when she felt sorry for me last night. But rather than wanting to comfort, she needs to be comforted.
I’ll gladly sign up for that job any day of the week.
“I feel guilty,” she whispers after a long minute of us standing in the hot Louisiana sun.
“Guilty?” I frown and take her hand, leading her to the shade of the porch, and her favorite swing. But rather than letting her sit beside me, I pull her into my lap and hold her tight.
“I’m not sick, you know,” she says with a smirk. But her eyes say thank you, and she leans against me, tucking herself under my chin.
“I know. Tell me why you feel guilty.”
She sighs. “I struggle with it every summer. I’ll miss him, of course. Every minute of every day. But at the same time, it’s so nice to have a few days of alone time. To have a week—” She swallows. “Without him. And that makes me feel like a shitty mom.”
“Everyone deserves a break, Gabby.” And if the piece of shit that fathered Sam had bothered to do his job, she wouldn’t be so overwhelmed with the task of parenting alone.
“I know.”
“It doesn’t make you a bad mom to enjoy that break.”
She simply shrugs, not convinced. I tip her chin up so I can see her eyes and it kills me to see tears welled in them.
“You’re an amazing mama,” I say softly before laying my lips gently against hers, enjoying the way a shiver runs through her. “He knows you love him.”
“I know that too.”
“Good. So, what are you going to do with your reprieve?” I push my fingers through her hair, unable to resist. God, her hair is soft and smells amazing. The way she leans into my touch is sweet.
She’s not touched often. She’s like a love-starved kitten, and I can’t wait to make her purr.
Because I’m going to have her in my bed, or hers, very soon.
“I have the inn,” she replies and frowns up at me.
“So, the only difference between last week and this week is, you won’t have Sam here?”
“Pretty much.”
Oh, sweetheart, we can do so much better than that.
“You don’t ever take a vacation?” I push her hair behind her ear and drag my fingertips down her cheek, loving the way her skin feels against mine.
She simply shakes her head, then sits up straight on my lap, bracing her hands on my shoulders so she can look at me.
“I have the inn, and I love it. I don’t need a vacation from it.”
Bullshit.
But I don’t say anything; I simply watch her.
“You don’t agree with me?”
“It doesn’t matter if I agree or not.” No, I don’t fucking agree.
“But you don’t.”
“Gabby,” I begin, then stop and frown. “Is your name short for Gabrielle?”
She blinks rapidly at the change of subject. “Yes, why?”
“Just curious. It doesn’t matter if I agree. If I disagree, will you take the week off?”
“I can’t.”
“Exactly.”
Finally, she scoots off my lap and runs her hands down her pretty white blouse and denim shorts, as though she’s smoothing wrinkles. “Thanks for the chat.”
I stand next to her and cage her against the railing of the porch. “Look at me.”
She raises her face to mine. Her eyes look almost gold today. They’re still a little sad, and I’m going to do my damnedest to change that, as soon as possible.
She catches her lower lip between her teeth and braces her hands on my forearms, and there’s that awareness, shooting between us again.
The chemistry is off the fucking charts.
I pluck her lip out of her teeth, and want with all of my soul to lean in and kiss her. My thumb brushes over the damp skin of her lip as I lean in and sweep my lips over her soft forehead.
“I have work,” she whispers, but doesn’t let go of me. “Sinceriously.”
“Sinceriously?” I chuckle and comb my fingers through the hair at the back of her neck.
“It’s a Sam word. He says it means he’s sincerely serious.”
“Ah.” I kiss her forehead once more, acutely aware, with every seven-odd-billion nerves in my body, of her pressed against me. “Then I guess you should get to it.”