A Reunion And A Ring (Proposals & Promises 1)

She swallowed a gasp that would have only rewarded his deliberate dig. When she was certain her voice would be steady, she said icily, “That doesn’t deserve a response.”

His nod might have been meant as an apology, but didn’t come across as very penitent. “When’s the wedding?”

Still stinging from his barbed comment, she glared at him. “There’s no date yet. As I said, I’m taking my time to make certain of my answer.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“About seven months.”

After a moment, he asked brusquely, “Are you in love with him?”

She moistened her lips. “Thad is a great guy. He and I have a lot in common, and we enjoy each other’s company. I wouldn’t even consider marrying him if I didn’t have feelings for him.”

It was a pathetically lame response and she was all too aware of it. Gavin’s expression made it clear that he thought so, too. “That’s not what I asked you.”

Her chest tightened. Rather than continuing that line of questioning, she shut it down. “You wanted to know what was going on in my life. Now I’ve told you. I’m in a relationship with Thad. I don’t think you need all the details.”

“So were you thinking of him when we kissed at the cabin? Or when we danced tonight?”

The wave of sensations those reminders invoked stole the breath from her lungs and made her fingers clench despite her efforts. She cleared her throat before saying tightly, “For old times’ sake, you said. That’s all it was.”

With a shrug, he pushed himself off the chair. “Yeah. Okay. Fine. That’s all it was.”

She stood, too, relieved that her shaky knees supported her. She didn’t know why this conversation was quite so upsetting. It wasn’t as if anything had really changed in her life because she’d run into Gavin a couple of times.

He moved toward the door, his steps long, purposeful. She hurried after him, though she wasn’t certain what she wanted to say. “Gavin...”

Pausing at the unopened door, he turned to look down at her. “Goodbye, Jenny. I hope you have the life you and your grandmother have always wanted for you. That’s exactly what you deserve.”

She could tell he didn’t mean the words as a compliment. She was sorry they were parting again with bitterness, but maybe that was just the way it was supposed to be between them. “Stay safe, Gavin,” she whispered, reaching for the door to let him out.

He’d reached out at the same time. Their hands fell on the knob together, his atop hers. His warmth engulfed her. Both of them went very still. She wasn’t sure which of them recovered first, but they both let go at once. Her hand tingled as if she’d just touched a live current. Did his?

“I’ll get it,” Gavin said, and opened the door for himself. “Bye, Jen.”

She didn’t have time to respond before he was outside, the door closing hard behind him.

Out of habit, she turned the dead bolt. And then she rested her head against the cool wood. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, traced slowly down her cheeks. She thought she’d shed the last of her tears for Gavin a long time ago. She should have known there would always be a few left when it came to him. She didn’t even know why she was crying now.

Her feet felt heavy when she turned to take a couple steps away from the door. For some reason, she found herself looking toward the sunset painting, seeking...something from the warmth and colors. She wasn’t sure what exactly. Not finding it there, she turned her head and her gaze fell onto a small, hammered silver box Thad had given her for Valentine’s Day. It sat on her clear glass-topped coffee table, seeming to float above the white rug that lay beneath the table on the wood floor. In stark contrast to the riotous painting, the box was pretty, delicate, a little on the formal side.

She pushed a hand wearily through her hair, her mind spinning with doubts again.

Someone rapped sharply on the door, making her start and whirl toward it. Was there something more Gavin wanted to say? Hadn’t he hurt her enough?

She opened the door slowly, her fingers trembling. She looked up at him with still-damp eyes she couldn’t hide. “Did you forget something?”

Surging through the opening, he reached out to snag the back of her neck with one strong hand. “Yeah,” he muttered. “This.”

She heard the door close even as his mouth claimed hers in a hard, hungry kiss.

Every nerve ending in Jenny’s body responded to the passion in Gavin’s kiss. Momentarily paralyzed, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move to either push him away or draw him closer. Her hands lay on his chest, her fingers curled into his shirt. She didn’t remember resting them there. His were at her hips, holding her in place while his lips and tongue made sure she could think of nothing but him.

He broke the kiss very slowly, tugging lightly at her lower lip as he reluctantly released it. He lifted his head, his gaze burning into hers. She knew what he saw when he looked at her. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks still tear-streaked, her mouth damp and reddened. Her heavy-lidded eyes probably told him exactly how much turmoil he’d stirred in her.

“Gavin.” His name came out on a whisper, and she wasn’t sure if it was meant as reproach or plea.

His voice was a growl, rough but still somehow gentle. “You know all you have to do is push me away and I’m gone.”