Best Man Under the Mistletoe

She’d barely gotten the door closed when Gabe’s arms banded around her. Chelsea melted against him, more than ready to spend the night here.

“You’re three minutes late.”

Chelsea pushed away from him and crossed the apartment. She wasn’t quite done driving him out of his mind.

“I had to talk to my brother,” she explained. “And say goodbye to Brandee and Shane. Then I thanked the caterers.”

“Take off your dress.”

Chelsea turned back to face him. The large loft seemed to close in on her as Gabe took one slow step after another toward her. His eyes never left hers, giving her all the thrills. How could a look make her feel like he was touching her all over? How did he have so much control over not just her body but her mind?

“Come take it off me,” she countered.

A low growl emanated from him as he closed the distance between them. In a flash move, he gripped the hem of her dress and jerked it up and over her head. The second he tossed it aside, his swift intake of breath had her confidence soaring. She propped her hands on her hips, thrusting her chest out and cocking her head to the side.

“Was it worth the wait, cowboy?”

“Damn,” he whispered. “Had I known you were wearing that, we never would’ve made it to the dinner.”

Chelsea couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m pretty sure there’s a rule against that.”

“Maybe, but nobody would blame me.”

She reached out, jerking on his silver buckle. “Why don’t you just take me here? This is technically the last night in our agreement, right?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. But seeing the flicker of annoyance in his eyes told her he wasn’t ready to see this end.

Maybe she should tell him now. Maybe she should just throw it all out there and take the risk now.

But, no. Because if she’d read him wrong, she would never forgive herself for the resulting awkwardness at Brandee and Shane’s wedding.

Gabe lifted her into his arms. With one arm behind her back, one arm behind her knees, he nipped at her lips as he walked through the loft. Romance had entered their relationship. This had all started with frenzied, passionate sex. Somewhere along the way love had settled in deep.

Chelsea wrapped her arms around his neck and nestled her head against his shoulder. “I expected you to take me against the window again,” she murmured into his ear.

“Maybe tonight is different.”

Maybe it was. As Gabe kicked the door shut to his bedroom, Chelsea finally felt like things were going her way. She’d found her happily-ever-after.

* * *

Early the following morning, Chelsea slid from bed. The sun still hadn’t come up, but she couldn’t sleep. Between the wedding, the fantastic night in Gabe’s arms, and the talk she wanted to have with him later today about their future, there was just too much going on and her mind simply wouldn’t shut down.

Chelsea glanced back to the bed where Gabe lay sprawled on his stomach, his light hair in disarray after she’d run her fingers through it. Her body still hummed as she snagged his T-shirt and put it on. She eased the door closed behind her as she made her way to the kitchen. Gabe was every bit the bachelor, but hopefully he had something she could make for their breakfast. She didn’t have to be at the church for a few hours, so maybe breakfast in bed was a great way to start the day.

Humming as she started searching through his cabinets, Chelsea figured if all else failed, she could do coffee, eggs and toast. He at least had those on hand.

She pulled out a pan and the eggs. Once she had them cracked into a bowl, she tugged on a drawer for a whisk. Of course his utensils weren’t in a drawer she would put them in. She tried another, only to find a junk drawer. She started to shut it when something caught her eye.

It was a black-and-white photograph. Chelsea focused on it, her heart hammering in her throat. No. That couldn’t be. Gabe wasn’t the accomplice. Was he? The sheriff had said they were searching for a female.

With a shaky hand she pulled the picture from the drawer, only to find more underneath it. She pulled them all out, then she saw a letter with Gabe’s name on it.

Nausea settled in the pit of her stomach as she shuffled through each picture. These weren’t the same ones that had circulated months back. These were actually newer, maybe a couple of months old. She knew that because she remembered the exact day at the gym. She recognized the outfit; she’d tried racquetball for the first time. Pretty soon after that, the first nude photos had been leaked and she hadn’t been back to that gym since.

Pulling in a deep breath, she set the pictures on the counter, facing down. Her attention went to the letter; she quickly saw it was from Dusty. Did she really want to read this? Did she want to know what he and Gabe had discussed?

Her eyes scanned the scratchy penmanship first before she went back to the top and absorbed every single word.