Kissing Under the Mistletoe - By Marina Adair Page 0,88

her stomach and right over the center.

“Then where?” she whispered.

“Where am I going to touch you next, or where am I going to take you next?” His finger made the same mind-blowing pass; this time, though, he lingered, making slow, mind-blowing little circles.

“Both,” she gasped.

Gabe kissed his way across her jaw to her ear and proceeded to tell her in explicit detail where, why, and for how long he was going to take her.

Which was how she ended up in his bed four hours later, exhausted and ready for a nap. Gabe had given her the full and complete tour of his house, not excluding the laundry room or shower. But her favorite, by far, was his bed. It was big and soft and smelled like him. It was also because in his bed, he had pulled her close, holding her tightly as though he didn’t want any space between. And afterward he had hugged her with those strong arms of his and fell asleep with his face buried in her neck.

Regan had never been in love. Sure she had loved Richard, but that was a young love, one that was born out of loneliness and insecurity and the need to be loved back.

She tightened her arms around his middle and closed her eyes, just taking him in. This felt different. It didn’t make her feel anxious or hollow. With Gabe, all she felt was a sense of rightness.

Which was why her heart pinched painfully when he looked up, his face nowhere near right. In fact, he looked confused and angry—at her.

“Do you still see Richard?”

“What? No. Why?”

“Holly said she doesn’t see much of him.”

Holly? What the hell?

“You were talking to Holly about Richard?” Only moments ago his body pressed into her had felt safe, now it made her feel vulnerable. She tried to move, but he didn’t budge.

“No, she was talking to me. About him. And I just want to make sure if he decides to come and visit you two, that Abby is prepared.”

Of course. This was about Abby. Regan placed her hands on his chest and shoved. He didn’t budge, but he begrudgingly rolled off of her and leaned against the headboard.

Regan sat up and pulled the blanket up and around her chest. Just when she thought they had gotten past—well, their past—there it was again. Only this time it was like the past six years were in the bed with them. And the only shot they had to get rid of it once and for all was honesty.

“Holly saw him once. She was just a baby and doesn’t even remember.” Although Regan remembered every second of the visit. Richard had apologized, saying that even though he was working things out with his wife, he wanted to do right by his kid. Regan had wanted to kick his ass for being a liar and a cheat, but she’d thought of her daughter, of how it felt to grow up without a dad, and decided to try and be civil. Richard had agreed to pay child support, Regan snapped a picture of him holding Holly, and then he left.

“She has a picture of that day. Sometimes she pulls it out and looks at it or asks questions about him. Like if she has his nose or if he was a good speller. One time she brought it to school, and her teacher told me she was showing it to all of her friends because they didn’t believe she had a daddy.”

That had happened right before they had moved to St. Helena. Regan had no idea she was being teased, and Holly had never said a word.

“What do you tell her? When she asks about her dad?” Gabe said softly. He didn’t look mad anymore; he looked miserable.

“The truth. That her daddy loves her very much, but just because you love someone doesn’t always mean you’re ready to be a parent.”

“So you don’t see him?”

Now it was Regan’s turn to get mad. She was answering a lot of questions, but none of her answers seemed good enough. “I already said no. Why don’t you just ask what you really want to know, Gabe?”

“Did you love him?”

And all of the anger faded. Was he jealous? Of her and Richard? Or maybe trying to gauge where her heart was at?

She reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Gabe, I’m a third-generation single mom. I never knew anything about my dad except that he was a French businessman and