Читать книгу A Bravo For Christmas - Christine Rimmer - Страница 12

Chapter Three

There was a moment that stretched into forever. Darius stared into her eyes. She knew he would look away any second.

But he never did.

She broke first with a low cry. “Oh, God.” She face-palmed, because what else could a girl do at a moment like this? “Is that tacky and awful?”

“Not awful in the least,” he said gently. Evenly. “Look at me, Ava.” He waited until she lifted her head and faced him again. “You’re on.”

As she gaped at him in equal parts wonder and disbelief, there was a tap on the door. “Dinner in five,” called a woman’s voice. Ava wasn’t sure who. And what did it matter who called them to dinner?

Nothing seemed real. She’d just made a deal with Darius Bravo to have a Christmas affair.

Darius called, “Be right out.” And footsteps sounded, moving away from the door. He asked, “You okay?”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She made herself stand, though her knees felt like rubber bands.

Before she could turn and race to the door, he caught her hand. “We’re not finished here.”

She gave a slight tug, but he didn’t release her. Her skin felt on fire where he touched her. “I...have to check on Sylvie. Make sure her hands are washed before dinner.”

“I’ll help.”

A weak laugh escaped her. “Really. I can manage. Just...let me go.”

That did it. He released her, and she felt a sharp stab of regret as the connection broke.

Oh, she was a mess. She never should have told him her fantasy, never should have asked him to participate in it with her. Never should have even let him lead her into this room.

There were so many nevers running through her mind right now—starting with how she never should have said she’d be waiting for him naked.

Really, she didn’t like herself much at the moment. She was acting like the kind of woman she despised, one of those girls who crooked her finger at a man with one hand and showed him the flat of her palm with the other. A c’mere, c’mere—get away, get away kind of girl.

“Ava.”

“Mmm?”

“It’s going to be fine,” he promised. “Better than fine.” How could he possibly know that? “We’ll talk more later.”

She should tell him never mind, should speak up right now and say, Forget it. I lost my mind for a second there, but I’m all better now...

But then he instructed gently, “Go on. See about Sylvie.”

And she thought how he was a much better guy than she used to give him credit for, that he was not only killer-hot, but also tender, sweet and funny—and maybe she should have given him a chance all those years and years ago. Truly, if she wanted a man for the holidays and he wanted to be that man for her, well, why shouldn’t they both get what they wanted for Christmas this year?

“Go now,” he warned, teasing and low. “Or I’m coming with you.”

That did it. She turned and left him sitting there.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon and early evening went by without another word shared between her and Darius. They sat across and down from each other at the long dining room table, which was so packed with Bravos everyone had to be careful to tuck their elbows in close to their sides. The food was amazing. Clara put apples and chestnuts in the stuffing and a combination of spices that had everyone coming around for seconds and thirds.

Twice, Ava caught Dare watching her. But as soon as she met his eyes, he just smiled and looked away. She tried to forget about those moments in the upstairs bedroom, to put all that from her mind and enjoy Thanksgiving with the Bravos, but she kept zoning out during conversations.

Nell asked her twice if something was bothering her. Both times, she denied it.

The second time, Nell tossed her thick head of ginger hair and laughed. “Liar.” She leaned close. “I’m always a phone call away if you want to talk about it—whatever it is.”

Really, Ava was grateful to have a friend like Nell, who might be nosy and bossy, but who also really cared. “Thanks, Nell. You’re the best.”

During dessert, as they chowed down on absolutely perfect pumpkin pie with heavy dollops of freshly whipped cream, Elise Bravo announced her engagement to Jed Walsh, the world-famous thriller writer, who’d returned to Justice Creek the year before after almost twenty years away. Clara and Dalton brought out champagne, and Jed got up and made a really beautiful toast to his bride-to-be, one that had them all laughing through happy tears.

And finally, after the dessert was cleared away, most everyone lingered to visit a little longer. Dalton took Kiera off for her bath, and Sylvie and Annabelle played “Super Mario Kart” with Darius and Annabelle’s dad, Quinn. Then the two girls went back upstairs for more fun in their fort.

At eight, when Ava went up to tell Sylvie it was time to go home, she found them both sound asleep in the cave of blankets. Gently, she folded back the covers and gathered her daughter into her arms. Chloe appeared then, looking for Annabelle. They carried the girls back down.

Sylvie fussed as Ava coaxed her into her coat and hat and then went right back to sleep as soon as Ava picked her up again. Clara appeared, and Ava gave her a one-armed hug of thanks as she went out the door.

Outside, a light snow was falling. Ava tipped her head up to the dark sky and caught a snowflake on her tongue. She thought of Darius, and the strangest sort of calm settled over her.

Sylvie sighed in her arms. Ava gathered her closer and moved on to the car.

* * *

Half an hour later, just as she finished putting Sylvie to bed, her cell phone rang.

It was Darius. “Just checking to see that you got home all right.”

“We’re here. We’re fine.”

“You certainly are.”

She laughed. “I’m not even going to ask who gave you my number.”

“Like it’s a state secret. I think there’s a stack of your business cards at every restaurant and shop in town.” It was true. She left a trail of business cards wherever she went, and she’d acquired more than one customer because they’d grabbed her card at a checkout counter. “Okay.” All of a sudden, he sounded grim. “You’re too quiet. Don’t you dare back out on me, Ava.”

“I’m not.” She realized she meant it. The calm that had settled over her when she carried her daughter out Clara’s front door had followed her home. “No stalling, I promise. We’re making this happen.”

“Come out to my place.” He owned a beautiful piece of property a few miles from town—or at least, his sisters claimed it was beautiful. She’d never been there.

And she wasn’t ready to go there quite yet. “Tomorrow,” she said, without stopping to think it through. “I’m spending the morning finishing up the staging of a house for Chloe. It’s out at that new Starview development, a Bravo Construction house. You take Mountainview west and—”

“I know where it is. What time?”

She would be there good and early and hoped to have everything done by lunchtime. “Noon?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great—I mean, good. I mean...”

“Ava.” His voice was like raw honey dripping fresh from the comb.

“Uh, yeah?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes. Good. Perfect.” She heard a click on the line, and he was gone.

* * *

The next day, Sylvie’s sitter arrived at 8:30 a.m., so Ava got to the Starview house before nine.

Chloe had all the room plans uploaded to a private-access area of her website. She’d also come in early yesterday, unwrapped all the late-arriving stuff and had even gotten most of the furniture, art and accessories moved to the various rooms where each would be used. The beds, bureaus, larger tables and cabinets were all in place in each of the rooms.

And the three Christmas trees—one in the living room, one on the dining room sideboard and another in the family room—were up and fully decorated. Ava loved that Chloe had put such time and care into the Christmas stuff. Seasonal touches made potential buyers feel at home—and that was the whole point. Whoever finally bought this house had to experience it as the home they’d been looking for. Toward that end, Chloe had also provided acres of lighted garlands and some serious holiday table decor, which Ava would deal with today.

She turned up the heat a little, made a pot of coffee, plugged her old iPod into the dock Chloe had left on a side table and cranked up the Christmas tunes. Via her tablet, she accessed the room plans and got right to work.

By eleven thirty she had everything done. She stood in the beautiful living room with its giant Christmas tree that reached all the way to the vaulted ceiling and longed for a shower. Hanging pictures, draping garlands and moving chairs around was sweaty work. Her stomach growled with hunger.

And in half an hour, Darius would arrive to have sex with her.

Seriously, what had she been smoking to decide they should meet here and now?

She swiped a sweaty curl of hair off her forehead and pictured herself trying to seduce Darius all sticky from a hard morning’s work as her stomach rumbled, demanding lunch. What was up with her? Usually, she thought of everything. But today, she couldn’t even remember to bring a sandwich.

Her inexperience with casual sex was definitely showing. She had no time to go grab a burger or to run home for a quick shower.

Then again, she had hung gorgeous, thick designer towels in each of the bathrooms. And if, say, she was to pop into the shower for a quick rinse and then to use one of those pretty towels to dry off, she could easily take that towel home, run it through the washer and bring it back tomorrow with no one the wiser.

Ava headed for the master bath fast, before she had a chance to rethink the appropriateness of any of this. By ten of twelve, she’d cleaned up a little, wiped down the shower, primped her hair and makeup and carried the soggy towel out to her Suburban so she wouldn’t forget to take it home with her.

At a minute before noon, the doorbell rang.

Utterly breathless with her heart in her throat, she opened the door to him. He had a big white Dairy Queen bag and a box with two large soft drinks propped up in it. His face was freshly shaved, and he wore a shearling jean jacket over a gray sweater and a plaid shirt, blue jeans and lace-up work boots.

She couldn’t decide which looked better—him or that white Dairy Queen bag, which gave off the incomparable aroma of burgers and fries. “You brought lunch,” she whispered in wonder.

One wide shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “You said I wasn’t allowed to take you out, and I thought you might be hungry.” His breath plumed in the cold air.

“I’m starving.”

“Well, good then. Cheeseburgers, fries and two Cokes.”

“I worship you.”

He grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

She peered past his shoulder. “Where’s your F-150?” She stepped back to let him in.

He followed her to the open-plan kitchen. “You said no one could know. I thought, what if some random family member showed up and saw my truck? So I left it around the corner.”

“You’re clearly quite the expert at sneaking around.”

“That, I don’t like the sound of much.” At the breakfast nook table, he set down the bag and the box of drinks, hung his jacket on the back of a chair and sat down.

She took the chair across from him. “About the sneaking around, I meant it in the best possible way.”

“Right.” He tore open the bag and distributed the burgers and fries. She grabbed one of the sodas and had a long, lovely sip. “So good. Thank you.”

“Eat.”

So she did. For several delicious minutes, neither of them spoke as they demolished the food.

Eventually he remarked on the Christmas music and all the decorations. “Nice house. And definitely holiday ready.”

“Nell and Garrett build them right.”

“Yeah, they do.”

As her stomach had filled up, her jitters returned. She hardly knew what to say next. “So... You finished? Let me have all that.” She gathered up the remains of the meal and carried it to the black plastic bag of trash she’d put at the end of the island to take out with her when she left.

Her hands smelled of grilled meat and grease, so she washed them at the sink and dried them with a paper towel from the roll she’d brought with her. He got up and came to wash his hands, too.

She passed him a paper towel. As he dried, she laughed nervously and said, “Now all we need is a breath mint.”

He dipped a hand in his pocket and came out with a matched pair of candy-cane mints. “They were giving them out at the DQ.”

She took one, twisted the wrapper off and popped it in her mouth. He did the same. For a moment, they sucked in unison.

And then he reached out and touched the tip of her chin, a feather-light caress that she felt to the bottom of her soul. “You’re not getting freaked on me, are you, Ava?”

She tucked the mint into the side of her mouth and confessed, “Yeah. I am, a little. I guess I didn’t really think it all through. I mean, maybe this isn’t the best setting for the start of this thing we’re doing.”

“Now it’s a thing?” His mouth quirked at one corner. She wanted to rise up on tiptoe and kiss that faint smile, to trace that tempting bottom lip with her tongue.

Instead, she eased the mint back to the center of her mouth for a moment and sucked it some more. She had to tuck it into her cheek again before she said, “There aren’t even sheets on the beds. And it just feels wrong. Kind of shoddy, you know?”

“Shoddy. Interesting word choice.” He touched her hair. Her heartbeat ceased—and then started up again, heavy and deep. He ran his hand down the length of a curl and then rubbed the strands between his fingers. “Silky. I knew it would be. I always loved the color. Like summer wheat. And sunshine.”

It was a beautiful thing to say, and she wanted to surge up, wrap her arms around him and kiss him hard and deep. But a second ticked by and then another, and she lost her nerve. She ended up blurting out, “I’m, um, on contraception. The shots.”

“Ah.”

“And I can’t believe I forgot to bring a sandwich, but I did remember to bring condoms.”

“Did you, now?” His eyes were a swirling combination of blues, like a whirlpool out in the middle of the ocean that could suck a girl down so very deep she might never find her way up to the surface again. He let go of her hair and then touched her left temple with his fingertips. Her skin heated. Burned. He pushed his fingers close to her scalp and then combed them downward, gently parting the long strands as he went.

A tiny gasp escaped her. “They’re in my purse. A whole box.” He cradled her chin, tipping it higher. Inside, everything was shivering and burning at once. She felt a definite heaviness down low, a longing so sharp, so immeasurably sweet. “Which is silly, right?”

He scanned her face as though memorizing her. “A whole box, you mean?”

“Mmm-hmm. Because there is no way we’re going to use a whole...” Words deserted her as his mouth covered hers.

Holy cannoli. His mouth was so soft, just as she’d always known it would be. Soft and pliant, that bottom lip like a pillow. She gave it a little bite, because she’d always wanted to bite him there and at last she could. He made a lovely, low groaning sound in response.

And seriously, now. Who knew a kiss could feel this good?

For the longest, loveliest time, they just stood there at the sink with their lips locked together.

Now, this was more like it. This was just what she needed. Dare Bravo for Christmas, delivering endless, candy-cane-flavored kisses, his big hands cradling her head, stroking her hair as “White Christmas” played from the dock in the living room. He sucked her mint into his mouth. She let it go without regret.

And then, still kissing her, he started moving. Dazed and delighted, she went where he guided her, backward, step by step, until she met the wall. He didn’t stop there. Oh, no. Not Darius.

He kept on kissing her, moving in even closer, so their bodies touched, front to front, his so wonderfully big and hot and hard as he pressed her to the wall. She could feel his erection against her belly.

Wow. Just...wow.

It was happening. Finally happening, after way too many years. And with Darius, of all people. He kissed her so long and intensely and well that she didn’t even care anymore that they were doing this in the perfectly staged home she would try to sell tomorrow.

And then those warm, knowing fingers of his strayed downward. He had the hem of her shirt in his hands, and he was sliding it upward. For the first time, the kiss broke.

But only long enough for him to take that shirt over her head and away. She felt the air of the room against her bare skin, and she almost got nervous.

“Shh,” he said, moving in good and tight again. “Kiss me.”

And she did, meeting his lips once more, drinking him in. She took his tongue into her mouth and wrapped hers around it as he went to work on her bra. Those knowing fingers skated lightly around between her back and the wall.

The clasp gave way.

She gasped in excitement and delight.

He went on kissing her as he slid the straps down her arms, so easily, smoothly, one and then the other, his fingers trailing along her skin, causing lovely little shivers to bloom wherever he touched her. He guided her hands down to her sides.

And then he eased a naughty finger between their bodies and unhooked the center gore of her bra, pulling it downward. The bra slid away, leaving her bare from the waist up.

He cupped her left breast. She moaned into his mouth as her nipple pressed into the hot center of his big palm. Had she ever been this turned on in all of her thirty-two years?

As her dazed, acutely aroused brain tried to ponder that question, a car door slammed outside.

The kiss broke. Her eyes popped open to meet his. They stared at each other. She wondered distantly if her mouth was as red and swollen as his.

Another door shut. Faintly, she heard voices. Feminine voices. She recognized Nell’s throaty laugh and put it together: his sisters must have come home early from Denver. Any second now, they would burst in the front door—and find her here in the model-home kitchen, half-naked with Darius.

Get moving. Put your shirt on. The voice in her head knew what to do. But she was immobilized by...

She had no idea what.

Disbelief, maybe. Embarrassment, definitely. And shock that she’d chosen such an unsuitable location for lovemaking in the first place and then managed to get caught in the act.

Or maybe it was simply the bizarre, dream-like quality of the moment. To be about to have sex with Darius Bravo after all these years—and have his sisters walk in on them.

Whatever the sudden irrational affliction that had her frozen in place unable to cover herself, it wasn’t contagious. Because Darius had no such problem.

He was a blur of purposeful movement.

First, he scooped her bra and shirt up off the floor. Tossing the shirt across his shoulder, he dealt with the bra, sliding the straps up her arms, reaching around behind her and hooking it up on the first try.

“Come on, now...” He spoke to her so gently, without a hint of annoyance or impatience.

She blinked again. He held her shirt ready. Numbly, she stuck her hands in the armholes, and he eased it over her head and smoothed it down into place.

What do you know? She was fully dressed again.

She heard the front door open. “Ava!” Chloe called from the foyer.

Darius bent close. His lips touched hers, so soft, tasting of peppermint. “You’ve got my number in your phone. Call me.” He breathed the words against her mouth, and then off he went.

Still leaning weakly against the kitchen wall, Ava watched him vanish down the short hall that led to the utility room and the four-car garage.