his best not to crush her.
He looked at her wet shirt again. “And I don’t care about my sister, or that this is going to blow up in our faces. Right now, all I care about is getting this off you before you change your mind.” With a quick tug, her shirt went flying. “Or the phone rings again.” Her bra was nice and sexy...and had to go. “Or you remember you have to make Holly’s lunch.” He flipped the catch and the lace fell loose, and she shrugged out of it, letting everything spill free. And hot damn—stacked didn’t even begin to describe her.
“God, Vixen.” He cupped her breasts, shaping and weighing them, taking his time. Breasts like these deserved to be treasured, and he intended to treasure the hell out of them.
“Yeah?”
Regan was resting back on her elbows, nipples jutting prettily, her silky hair spilling across the tabletop, looking like every guy’s wet dream. And yet there was a shy uncertainty in her expression that tore at him. How could she not know how beautiful she was?
“Hell, yeah,” he whispered, taking one peak in his mouth, giving it every ounce of attention it deserved. By the time he got to her other breast she was writhing beneath him.
This was exactly what they both needed. No more wondering. No more arguing. No more games. From now on, the only game they were going to play would have a strict no-clothes policy.
He cushioned one hand between her cold back and the even colder tabletop to give himself more leverage and considered asking her if she wanted to move to the couch. But he felt a little tug at his jeans, watched as Regan’s fingers slid home, and realized that interrupting would be rude. So he kept his mouth shut and thought about adding a new rule: soft surfaces optional.
The button on his pants opened, her hands dove inside, and all thinking shut down immediately. He could only feel. Her soft hands curled around the base of him and with one stroke his big plans for taking his sweet time snapped. Fast now, finesse later.
He went for the button on her jeans, got the zipper down, and was nearing the promised land—
“Mommy?” Holly’s voice came through the hallway, into the kitchen, and right between them.
Regan froze.
Gabe yanked his zipper up.
Holly called out again.
“What, honey?”
“I have to go potty and it’s still dark.” Gabe wanted to tell her that it was nighttime, it was always dark.
“I thought you said she sleeps through everything,” he whispered, handing Regan’s T-shirt to her and pulling his own over his head with hurried hands. Ms. Calm and Collected was nowhere to be seen.
“Be right there,” she called out, then looked at Gabe with apologetic eyes. “Everything but liquid before bed.”
He stopped, T-shirt midway over his head. “I gave her a glass of water.” He closed his eyes. “Actually two.”
“It’s okay.” Regan abandoned the bra and just slid on her shirt, covering up those perfect tens. “I shouldn’t have...I mean, this is why I don’t...Dating with a daughter in the house is—”
“Mommy? I really gotta go.”
Regan sighed, but Gabe didn’t fail to notice the embarrassment and regret already clouding those pretty eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, skirting past him. He grabbed the back of her jeans, stopping her. The kid had to go—and by the agitation in her fourth call, he imagined pretty bad—but he didn’t want it to end like this. Regan was more than embarrassed, she was mad at herself and Gabe didn’t want that.
“Regan, it’s okay. No harm.”
“No, it’s not okay.” Her eyes went bright, and he was pretty sure she was about to cry. “I don’t do this. I made myself one promise: Holly first. Always.”
“And what about you?” he asked softly, tugging her fingers.
She gave a small, sad shrug. “I think I’m always stuck in mommy mode and when she—”
“Mom-my?”
Regan looked at the doorway and then back to their linked hands, and he could see that she was being pulled in two and it was killing her. So he let go first. “Go on. Take Holly to the bathroom and then snuggle in bed with her and be a mom. We can figure this out later.”
She nodded and reluctantly headed for the hall. Midway she stopped and turned back to face him. “Gabe, what if being a mom is all I can be right now?”
“Then it will be enough.”
CHAPTER 11
“And by blending the traditions with the past and the tools and technology of