Rumor Has It
Page 25
Slurp . . . She couldn’t speak, not when she’d just realized that she was standing between the only two men she’d ever slept with. Ryan had been a good lover, fun and easy to be with.
But Griffin . . . Griffin was magic.
And she was sandwiched between them. A virtual hot guy sandwich. Her hands trembled a little bit, but before she could put down her bottle of water, it was taken out of her fingers by a big, callused hand and set on the counter for her.
She met Griffin’s gaze and straightened, lust immediately taking a backseat to concern.
He had a headache.
She saw it in the tight lines of his mouth, in the shadows of his eyes, and in every movement that he didn’t make.
“Well,” Ryan said. “This is a whole heck of a lot of fun, standing here awkwardly staring at each other and all, but I really should . . . something.” And then he left.
“You have another migraine,” Kate said, pushing Grif to a chair.
“Little bit.”
She moved to the freezer and found a bag of peas. She dimmed the lights. Griffin had sprawled himself out in the chair, long legs in front of him, head back, eyes closed. Stepping between his legs, she gently pressed the cold bag to his temple.
His hands went to her hips, and he leaned forward and pressed his face to her stomach.
She closed her eyes and ran her hands over his shoulders. She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Your tummy’s rumbling.”
“It’s working at producing a new layer of mucus,” she said. “It has to do that every two weeks to avoid digesting itself.” She paused. “Everyone’s stomach has to. Not just mine.” Shut up, Kate . . .
He laughed softly as his hands slid beneath her sweater now. His rough palms brought goose bumps to her body as he headed north, stopping just short of her breasts.
“Really?” she asked, her calm voice belying her suddenly racing heart. “You can think about sex right now?”
A low laugh gusted out of him, his breath warming her skin through her sweater as his thumbs brushed over the heavy undersides of her br**sts through her bra. “I can always think about sex.”
“That’s . . . inconvenient,” she managed. It certainly was for her.
He let out another low laugh. “You mean because I’m torn between throwing up and taking you right here?”
He was talking the big talk, but there was no way he was up to anything but a very long nap. “Do you have meds?” she asked.
“Not with me. The headaches are fading. Mostly.”
His thumbs were rubbing back and forth over her upper ribs, not quite touching her breasts. Her ni**les were reacting like they were going to get luckier than was possible standing here in the animal center. “What’s your pain level from one to ten?”
“Eleven,” he said calmly. “But that’s only because there’s a hot poker behind my eyeball and I can’t see out of it.”
She wanted to get him back to the ranch, but she was afraid that he wouldn’t get any TLC there from his father. She would have liked to take him home, because she happened to have plenty of TLC for him, but she also had twenty kids to think about. “You need to lie down.”
“Yeah. And you probably need to get back to the kids.”
She hesitated, and he met her gaze. “I’ll be fine.” But he didn’t remove his hands.
“Griffin—”
“You always say my full name,” he said softly, pressing his face between her br**sts just as he shifted his hand northward and let his thumbs scrape over her aching nipples. “Like you’re going to put me in the corner.”
She had to lock her knees. It took her two tries to speak. “That’s not where I’m thinking of putting you right now.”
He smiled, but it faded fast. So did the color from his face.
“Oh, Griffin,” she whispered.
“You’re the only one who ever calls me that. The only one . . .” Turning his head, he kissed her breast, and then the nipple poking at the material of her sweater. When he nipped it lightly with his teeth, she gasped. He kissed it again, and then with a sigh he removed his hands from under her clothes and gave her a little push. “Go. I’ll be fine. I’ll be so fine, I’m coming over tonight to show you how fine.”
“Another date?”
His pain-filled gaze met hers. “Yeah. Another date.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t know if she could. Or should.
Another date . . . It was either going to kill her or . . .
She decided she didn’t need to worry about the or. He was sick with a migraine. He could be a big talker all he wanted, but he wasn’t immortal.
When she got outside, Ryan and Jade had the kids in the yard. Kate went straight to Adam. “Griffin’s—”
“Sick. I know.” His dark eyes met hers. “I’ve got him, Kate.”
Good. That was good. Because now she could walk away. Walking away from Griffin Reid was the smart thing to do.
And Kate always did the smart thing.
* * *
Griffin woke up at midnight in his own bed. This time there was no musical laughter from outside his window. It was pitch-black out there, and the only sound was an incredibly obnoxious chorus of crickets and a lone wolf howling his frustration at the moon.
Grif rolled over to go back to sleep and caught sight of a covered plate on his nightstand with a note attached to it. And Adam in a chair by his bed, feet up on the mattress, head back, fast asleep.
Though Grif didn’t move, Adam woke suddenly and fully from one breath to the other, calmly opening his eyes and landing them right on Grif. “You back?” he asked.
“Yeah.” His headache was gone. This one had been less intense and hadn’t lasted as long as usual. Grateful for small favors, he sat up. “How did you get stuck with babysitting duty again?”
“Maybe I just like to watch you sleep.” Adam pointed to the covered plate. “Your other guardian angel left that for you. The pretty one.”
“Kate?”
“You have a third guardian angel? No!” He sighed when Grif didn’t smile. “Yeah, Kate. She stayed until she fell out of the chair when she dozed off and I made her go home.”
Grif peeked under the foil. A homemade turkey club sandwich.
Adam clapped him on the shoulder and headed to the door. “Glad the headaches are getting better. Cuz you’re really putting a crimp in my sex life.”
Since Adam’s sex life was with Grif’s sister, this made him wince. He inhaled the sandwich, then rolled out of bed and strode to the window.
He’d slept a solid ten hours.
Also better than usual . . . He figured that could be attributed to just about anything; the passing of time, being here in Sunshine without the stress of daily military life, having friends and family, and . . . and hell, maybe it was also the yoga. In spite of himself, he smiled. It wasn’t yoga.
But he was pretty sure it was Kate.
Twenty
Kate was lying in her bed when she heard it. Something small hitting her window with a little ping.
And then again.
Sliding out of bed, she ducked low and grabbed her handy-dandy baseball bat from beneath her bed. The last time something had woken her up in the middle of the night, it had turned out to be a black bear digging through the trash Dumpster at the end of the row of townhouses.
He’d been deceptively cute and incredibly messy, spreading out the trash across the four small front yards of their building and leaving a bunch of piles of steamy bear poo while he was at it.
The bat had been useless against the bear, and she wasn’t sure what use it would be now either, other than to boost her courage.
She peeked out the window. Not a bear, but something just as dangerous.
Griffin.
He stood in the small yard, hands on hips, staring up at her. Shocked, she shoved up her window. “What are you doing?”
“Chemistry problems.”
She stared at him, straightening up in worry. “Are you sleepwalking? Did you take pain meds? Are you hallucinating? Ohmigod, did you drive yourself here in your condition?”
He flashed a smile that stopped her heart. It was rare to see him smile like that, which was probably a good thing since she could feel her brain cells sizzling and popping one by one at the sight, and she wasn’t sure how many she had to spare.
“I like your pj’s,” he said, and she looked down at the little cami and boxer shorts she wore. Not much coverage, but then again, he’d seen it all before. In fact, he’d kissed it, nibbled and licked it, teased it . . . every single inch.
“You going to come down?” he asked, the small smile still playing over his lips, though his eyes were serious, so very serious. He’d asked calmly, even easily, as if he was asking if the sky was midnight black or if it was a Tuesday.
But there was nothing calm inside of her. The man stirred her up, turned her upside down, and in general wreaked havoc on all her senses.
And he knew it.
Just as she knew that if she took this leap, there was no more telling herself this was just fun or chemistry. If she did this, the game changed.
* * *
Grif watched Kate war with herself. As far as he was concerned, she could take her sweet-ass time about it since he happened to be enjoying her snug white camisole with the tiny delicate straps very much. The material was a little thin and she was a lot cold.
“It’s midnight,” she said.
“Yes. You turning into a pumpkin?”
“Griffin,” she said on a laugh. “What’s this about?”
“Told you. Chemistry.”
“I’m not dressed.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s my favorite part.”
She shut the window and vanished from sight. There was a pause, and he knew it could go either way for him. But then he heard her flying down the interior stairs.
Her front door opened.
She’d pulled on jeans and a sweater, which wasn’t a surprise. It was a little much to have hoped she’d come out in her sexy pj’s.
She walked straight to him, close enough to share air, and stared up into his eyes.
There was something about how she did this, how she looked at him as if he was important, as if he meant something to her. Not because he’d been a soldier or because he’d done anything for her. It was simply that she liked him. Him. Which reached inside and squeezed something deep.
Until recently, his world had been made up of people who reported to him or he reported to. Either way, few ever dared to go toe-to-toe with him.
And yet Kate did. She wasn’t intimidated or afraid. She was cautious—she was smart to be—but it didn’t hold her back.
Nothing did.
She had this sweet, warm, open personality that drew people in like bees to honey, but there was more to her than that. So much more. She might be quiet and sometimes reserved, but she wasn’t shy. And she wasn’t vulnerable or weak either.
In fact, it was possible that she was the strongest person he’d ever met.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi,” he whispered back.
Smiling, she reached up to brush the scar over his temple. “Better,” she said with relief. “You’re really okay.”
He was better, yes. As for being okay, that remained to be seen. Because typically, when he was with her, he never felt okay. When he was with her, he was on a roller coaster, an out-of-control roller coaster, and while he loved a good thrill, sometimes she terrified the shit out of him.
Like now. Standing there, all soft and warm from her bed, a little mussed and a whole lot sweet with the TLC she was doling out. He felt like he needed to get control of this ride and quick. She gave to everyone around her but never did anything for herself. Tonight was for her. Catching her hand in his, he slid his thumb over the pulse at the base of her wrist. “Ready?” he asked.
“For what?”
He smiled and watched her gaze drop to his mouth.
“Oh boy,” she whispered.
He stroked a finger along her jaw. “Still with me, Kate?”
“You say my name a lot,” she said.
“I like your name.”
“Studies show that saying a person’s name creates an instant link between you,” she said.
He smiled. “I’m making you nervous.”
“Yes.”
“I like you a little nervous. Kate.”
She let out a low laugh and turned to take him inside, but he stopped her.
“No?” she asked.
Hell, yes. But no. This time was for her. “Dinner,” he said.
“It’s late. I can cook.”
Oh yes, she could. She was cooking his brain pretty good just standing there. “I don’t want you to have to do anything,” he said.
She gave him a melting smile, and he decided she was giving him too much credit. “Kate, if we go inside, you’ll be dinner.”
“Oh,” she breathed softly, and stared at his mouth. “Well, if you’re hungry . . .”
With a laughing groan, he opened the truck door and all but shoved her in. He drove them through town and up into the hills, turning off the paved road onto a dirt one. They headed up and then up some more, the truck rocking from side to side, making Kate grab the oh-holy-shit bar on the door, but when he glanced at her, she was grinning from ear to ear.
“Faster,” she said.
With a laugh he did as the lady directed.
* * *
When Kate was as good and lost as she’d ever been, Grif put the truck in park and turned off the engine.
The night was dark. She couldn’t see, but she could hear the tall trees swaying lightly in the wind. The only other sound was her accelerated breathing.
But Griffin . . . Griffin was magic.
And she was sandwiched between them. A virtual hot guy sandwich. Her hands trembled a little bit, but before she could put down her bottle of water, it was taken out of her fingers by a big, callused hand and set on the counter for her.
She met Griffin’s gaze and straightened, lust immediately taking a backseat to concern.
He had a headache.
She saw it in the tight lines of his mouth, in the shadows of his eyes, and in every movement that he didn’t make.
“Well,” Ryan said. “This is a whole heck of a lot of fun, standing here awkwardly staring at each other and all, but I really should . . . something.” And then he left.
“You have another migraine,” Kate said, pushing Grif to a chair.
“Little bit.”
She moved to the freezer and found a bag of peas. She dimmed the lights. Griffin had sprawled himself out in the chair, long legs in front of him, head back, eyes closed. Stepping between his legs, she gently pressed the cold bag to his temple.
His hands went to her hips, and he leaned forward and pressed his face to her stomach.
She closed her eyes and ran her hands over his shoulders. She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Your tummy’s rumbling.”
“It’s working at producing a new layer of mucus,” she said. “It has to do that every two weeks to avoid digesting itself.” She paused. “Everyone’s stomach has to. Not just mine.” Shut up, Kate . . .
He laughed softly as his hands slid beneath her sweater now. His rough palms brought goose bumps to her body as he headed north, stopping just short of her breasts.
“Really?” she asked, her calm voice belying her suddenly racing heart. “You can think about sex right now?”
A low laugh gusted out of him, his breath warming her skin through her sweater as his thumbs brushed over the heavy undersides of her br**sts through her bra. “I can always think about sex.”
“That’s . . . inconvenient,” she managed. It certainly was for her.
He let out another low laugh. “You mean because I’m torn between throwing up and taking you right here?”
He was talking the big talk, but there was no way he was up to anything but a very long nap. “Do you have meds?” she asked.
“Not with me. The headaches are fading. Mostly.”
His thumbs were rubbing back and forth over her upper ribs, not quite touching her breasts. Her ni**les were reacting like they were going to get luckier than was possible standing here in the animal center. “What’s your pain level from one to ten?”
“Eleven,” he said calmly. “But that’s only because there’s a hot poker behind my eyeball and I can’t see out of it.”
She wanted to get him back to the ranch, but she was afraid that he wouldn’t get any TLC there from his father. She would have liked to take him home, because she happened to have plenty of TLC for him, but she also had twenty kids to think about. “You need to lie down.”
“Yeah. And you probably need to get back to the kids.”
She hesitated, and he met her gaze. “I’ll be fine.” But he didn’t remove his hands.
“Griffin—”
“You always say my full name,” he said softly, pressing his face between her br**sts just as he shifted his hand northward and let his thumbs scrape over her aching nipples. “Like you’re going to put me in the corner.”
She had to lock her knees. It took her two tries to speak. “That’s not where I’m thinking of putting you right now.”
He smiled, but it faded fast. So did the color from his face.
“Oh, Griffin,” she whispered.
“You’re the only one who ever calls me that. The only one . . .” Turning his head, he kissed her breast, and then the nipple poking at the material of her sweater. When he nipped it lightly with his teeth, she gasped. He kissed it again, and then with a sigh he removed his hands from under her clothes and gave her a little push. “Go. I’ll be fine. I’ll be so fine, I’m coming over tonight to show you how fine.”
“Another date?”
His pain-filled gaze met hers. “Yeah. Another date.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t know if she could. Or should.
Another date . . . It was either going to kill her or . . .
She decided she didn’t need to worry about the or. He was sick with a migraine. He could be a big talker all he wanted, but he wasn’t immortal.
When she got outside, Ryan and Jade had the kids in the yard. Kate went straight to Adam. “Griffin’s—”
“Sick. I know.” His dark eyes met hers. “I’ve got him, Kate.”
Good. That was good. Because now she could walk away. Walking away from Griffin Reid was the smart thing to do.
And Kate always did the smart thing.
* * *
Griffin woke up at midnight in his own bed. This time there was no musical laughter from outside his window. It was pitch-black out there, and the only sound was an incredibly obnoxious chorus of crickets and a lone wolf howling his frustration at the moon.
Grif rolled over to go back to sleep and caught sight of a covered plate on his nightstand with a note attached to it. And Adam in a chair by his bed, feet up on the mattress, head back, fast asleep.
Though Grif didn’t move, Adam woke suddenly and fully from one breath to the other, calmly opening his eyes and landing them right on Grif. “You back?” he asked.
“Yeah.” His headache was gone. This one had been less intense and hadn’t lasted as long as usual. Grateful for small favors, he sat up. “How did you get stuck with babysitting duty again?”
“Maybe I just like to watch you sleep.” Adam pointed to the covered plate. “Your other guardian angel left that for you. The pretty one.”
“Kate?”
“You have a third guardian angel? No!” He sighed when Grif didn’t smile. “Yeah, Kate. She stayed until she fell out of the chair when she dozed off and I made her go home.”
Grif peeked under the foil. A homemade turkey club sandwich.
Adam clapped him on the shoulder and headed to the door. “Glad the headaches are getting better. Cuz you’re really putting a crimp in my sex life.”
Since Adam’s sex life was with Grif’s sister, this made him wince. He inhaled the sandwich, then rolled out of bed and strode to the window.
He’d slept a solid ten hours.
Also better than usual . . . He figured that could be attributed to just about anything; the passing of time, being here in Sunshine without the stress of daily military life, having friends and family, and . . . and hell, maybe it was also the yoga. In spite of himself, he smiled. It wasn’t yoga.
But he was pretty sure it was Kate.
Twenty
Kate was lying in her bed when she heard it. Something small hitting her window with a little ping.
And then again.
Sliding out of bed, she ducked low and grabbed her handy-dandy baseball bat from beneath her bed. The last time something had woken her up in the middle of the night, it had turned out to be a black bear digging through the trash Dumpster at the end of the row of townhouses.
He’d been deceptively cute and incredibly messy, spreading out the trash across the four small front yards of their building and leaving a bunch of piles of steamy bear poo while he was at it.
The bat had been useless against the bear, and she wasn’t sure what use it would be now either, other than to boost her courage.
She peeked out the window. Not a bear, but something just as dangerous.
Griffin.
He stood in the small yard, hands on hips, staring up at her. Shocked, she shoved up her window. “What are you doing?”
“Chemistry problems.”
She stared at him, straightening up in worry. “Are you sleepwalking? Did you take pain meds? Are you hallucinating? Ohmigod, did you drive yourself here in your condition?”
He flashed a smile that stopped her heart. It was rare to see him smile like that, which was probably a good thing since she could feel her brain cells sizzling and popping one by one at the sight, and she wasn’t sure how many she had to spare.
“I like your pj’s,” he said, and she looked down at the little cami and boxer shorts she wore. Not much coverage, but then again, he’d seen it all before. In fact, he’d kissed it, nibbled and licked it, teased it . . . every single inch.
“You going to come down?” he asked, the small smile still playing over his lips, though his eyes were serious, so very serious. He’d asked calmly, even easily, as if he was asking if the sky was midnight black or if it was a Tuesday.
But there was nothing calm inside of her. The man stirred her up, turned her upside down, and in general wreaked havoc on all her senses.
And he knew it.
Just as she knew that if she took this leap, there was no more telling herself this was just fun or chemistry. If she did this, the game changed.
* * *
Grif watched Kate war with herself. As far as he was concerned, she could take her sweet-ass time about it since he happened to be enjoying her snug white camisole with the tiny delicate straps very much. The material was a little thin and she was a lot cold.
“It’s midnight,” she said.
“Yes. You turning into a pumpkin?”
“Griffin,” she said on a laugh. “What’s this about?”
“Told you. Chemistry.”
“I’m not dressed.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s my favorite part.”
She shut the window and vanished from sight. There was a pause, and he knew it could go either way for him. But then he heard her flying down the interior stairs.
Her front door opened.
She’d pulled on jeans and a sweater, which wasn’t a surprise. It was a little much to have hoped she’d come out in her sexy pj’s.
She walked straight to him, close enough to share air, and stared up into his eyes.
There was something about how she did this, how she looked at him as if he was important, as if he meant something to her. Not because he’d been a soldier or because he’d done anything for her. It was simply that she liked him. Him. Which reached inside and squeezed something deep.
Until recently, his world had been made up of people who reported to him or he reported to. Either way, few ever dared to go toe-to-toe with him.
And yet Kate did. She wasn’t intimidated or afraid. She was cautious—she was smart to be—but it didn’t hold her back.
Nothing did.
She had this sweet, warm, open personality that drew people in like bees to honey, but there was more to her than that. So much more. She might be quiet and sometimes reserved, but she wasn’t shy. And she wasn’t vulnerable or weak either.
In fact, it was possible that she was the strongest person he’d ever met.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi,” he whispered back.
Smiling, she reached up to brush the scar over his temple. “Better,” she said with relief. “You’re really okay.”
He was better, yes. As for being okay, that remained to be seen. Because typically, when he was with her, he never felt okay. When he was with her, he was on a roller coaster, an out-of-control roller coaster, and while he loved a good thrill, sometimes she terrified the shit out of him.
Like now. Standing there, all soft and warm from her bed, a little mussed and a whole lot sweet with the TLC she was doling out. He felt like he needed to get control of this ride and quick. She gave to everyone around her but never did anything for herself. Tonight was for her. Catching her hand in his, he slid his thumb over the pulse at the base of her wrist. “Ready?” he asked.
“For what?”
He smiled and watched her gaze drop to his mouth.
“Oh boy,” she whispered.
He stroked a finger along her jaw. “Still with me, Kate?”
“You say my name a lot,” she said.
“I like your name.”
“Studies show that saying a person’s name creates an instant link between you,” she said.
He smiled. “I’m making you nervous.”
“Yes.”
“I like you a little nervous. Kate.”
She let out a low laugh and turned to take him inside, but he stopped her.
“No?” she asked.
Hell, yes. But no. This time was for her. “Dinner,” he said.
“It’s late. I can cook.”
Oh yes, she could. She was cooking his brain pretty good just standing there. “I don’t want you to have to do anything,” he said.
She gave him a melting smile, and he decided she was giving him too much credit. “Kate, if we go inside, you’ll be dinner.”
“Oh,” she breathed softly, and stared at his mouth. “Well, if you’re hungry . . .”
With a laughing groan, he opened the truck door and all but shoved her in. He drove them through town and up into the hills, turning off the paved road onto a dirt one. They headed up and then up some more, the truck rocking from side to side, making Kate grab the oh-holy-shit bar on the door, but when he glanced at her, she was grinning from ear to ear.
“Faster,” she said.
With a laugh he did as the lady directed.
* * *
When Kate was as good and lost as she’d ever been, Grif put the truck in park and turned off the engine.
The night was dark. She couldn’t see, but she could hear the tall trees swaying lightly in the wind. The only other sound was her accelerated breathing.
