watch the sun set on this, the final night of their trip, he was acutely aware of the nearness of a bed. Actually, of two beds.
It would be so easy to fall into a physical relationship with her. However, he’d promised her he wouldn’t use her, and having sex tonight would be nothing more than that. Unless he could give her more, he couldn’t take more from her.
When she stepped out onto the balcony, however, he took one look at her and smothered a groan. She wore the filmy, flirty strapless sundress she’d purchased this morning at a shop in Carmel. It complemented her curves, showed off her legs, and made him want to grind his teeth in sexual frustration.
This was going to be a very, very long night.
“You look like you’re feeling better,” he said, referring to that afternoon’s bout of nausea.
“It’s amazing what a bath in a whirlpool tub will do for a girl.”
Oh, great. Just great. That’s exactly the picture I didn’t need in my mind. He attempted to counter it by saying, “I’m glad you made it to the bathroom before tossing your Cobb salad.”
She grinned. “The stomach-settling smoothie you ordered for me from room service almost made it worth losing my lunch. I don’t know what they put in it, but I swear I licked the glass clean.”
He almost leaned over and banged his head on the balcony at the visual image of that.
She stood at the balcony railing and stared out at the ocean. “Mother Nature is glorious. So much beauty in the world. So many different kinds, too. Here and at home it slaps you in the face.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off her.
As she glanced back at him, her hair spilled like a waterfall of gold over shoulders tanned by five days in the sun. “You’ve been a lot of places. What’s the prettiest ugly place you’ve ever been?”
So glad was he of the distraction that he spoke without filtering his words. “Far west Texas in July. You have to look for the beauty, but it’s there. The land is as flat as a pancake and dry. Brown. In July, all the vegetation is brown. Heat rises from the ground in visible waves. But the sky is so big. The sunset we’re watching is spectacular, true, but it doesn’t have anything on the desert plain of far west Texas. Because it has the sunrise, too. As pretty a sunrise as I’ve ever seen.”
“Is that where your home was?”
“No.” His lips twisted in a wistful smile. “Our home was at the northern edge of the Texas hill country. It was pretty. In its own way, just as pretty as here or even Eternity Springs.”
“Because it’s home?” Nic asked, displaying an insight that caused him to think.
He shrugged. He’d lived dozens of places since leaving Brazos Bend, Texas. He’d made a life for himself in a few of them. Was Brazos Bend still home after all these years?
While he considered that question, Nic said, “You seldom talk about your family, Gabe. How many brothers do you have?”
After a moment’s pause, he answered, “Three.”
“Are you a close family?”
“Not anymore.” He studied her over his coffee cup and realized that by asking about his family, she’d helped him step back from the edge of doing something stupid. “I need to tell you about my family, but it’s not a subject for today.”
Then, prodded to flee thoughts of the Callahans, he said, “Want to walk down to the beach?”
Her smile was as pretty as the western sky. “Sure.”
As they walked through the hotel lobby to reach the beach-access boardwalk, Gabe watched three different men give Nic the once-over. Whether it was the clichéd pregnancy glow or the easing of her fears of the future or simply the effect of a good vacation, his new wife glowed. She was as relaxed and carefree as he had ever seen her—beautiful, vivacious, and sparkling.
He could just imagine how she’d look after an orgasm.
Gabe grimaced and stepped gratefully out into the fading light of day. The sooner it got dark, the better.
A boardwalk led across the delicate grassy dunes to the beach where a gentle surf lapped against the sand. Gabe took Nic’s hand for balance as she stepped down from the boardwalk and then paused to remove her sandals, and he didn’t let it go.
They walked without speaking, hand in hand, the haunting notes of a bagpipe drifting on a salt-scented breeze as the inn’s piper saluted the