Rushing In (Bailey Brothers #4) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,52

had it happen? A job interview? A funeral?”

She groaned. “I think the worst was at ThrillerFest. It’s a big writer’s conference and my publisher put me on a panel with a few other authors. We were supposed to answer questions about the publishing process. I was so nervous I thought I might puke, and then suddenly I felt…”

“Aroused?”

“Yes, but not just aroused. I felt desperate. I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I didn’t even tell Ginny this story. But I was up there on this little stage and I remember my face getting hot and my heart beating too fast. And other places felt… you know. There was a lot of pressure.”

“So what did you do?”

“Nothing, really. I just lived with it until it went away. My ex was…” She trailed off and I waited again to see if she’d finish. This time she did. “My ex was at the conference too, but he wasn’t interested in a quick trip back to our room when the panel was over. Said he was too busy.”

“He turned down a quick fuck in a hotel room? Seriously, Sky, what kind of dumbass were you dating?”

She shrugged. “The boring kind, I guess.”

“No shit.”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “So if you’d been there with me, you’d have taken me upstairs for a quickie?”

My danger instinct went absolutely crazy. Buzzers, alarms, and warning bells all went off in my brain at once. That was a loaded fucking question if I’d ever heard one.

Don’t do it, Gav. Don’t take the bait.

But I couldn’t resist.

“Oh yeah. I would have taken you back to our hotel room and made sure you were satisfied.” Whoa, too close to the fire, Gav. Back up a little or you’ll get burned. “Assuming having sex was something we normally did anyway,” I added quickly.

“Right, of course.”

This conversation was about to come full circle. She’d brought it up because she was uncomfortably aroused right now. Was she hinting she could use my help in alleviating it?

As if my conscience needed the reminder, Chief came out onto the porch and sat next to Gram.

Well played, universe.

“Gram’s pie isn’t quite as good as sex, but it’s close. Should we go get some?”

“I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“So? It’s fun to eat dessert first.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that. Pie sounds great.”

I took her inside and we helped ourselves to Gram’s apple pie. After that, we mingled a little longer. Had some food, and I nursed a second beer. Skylar kept close to my side—so close her arm kept rubbing against mine. Even through our clothes, the contact was electrifying. More than once, I had to resist the urge to brush her hair back over her shoulder or tuck it behind her ear.

After a while, I had the distinct feeling that she was ready to go. She was just a little bit quieter, standing with her shoulder and arm subtly behind mine, so close she could have rested her cheek on my arm if she’d wanted to.

I leaned down and spoke softly. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

“It’s not because I’m having a bad time. But yes.”

“Did you drive yourself?”

“No, I came with Ginny.”

Ginny had left the bonfire—and Logan—and taken up a spot next to Gram and Fiona. Gram was in storytelling mode, tipping back and forth in her rocking chair, speaking softly. Fiona and Ginny were watching her with rapt attention.

“I think my dad left already,” she said. “But I can wait for Ginny. It’s not a big deal.”

“I can take you home.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take you away from your brother’s party.”

I could have told her the truth. That the only reason I’d stayed this long was because she was here. That I’d been restless and edgy until she’d arrived, and now I didn’t want to be anywhere but wherever she was, even if it meant missing birthday cake.

But that was a little much, and treading way too close to that friendship line I was determined to maintain.

“I don’t mind at all.”

She looked up at me and a reflection of the firelight danced in her pretty brown eyes. “Thanks, Gavin.”

Uh-oh. I was in so much trouble.

18

Skylar

A little thrill of excitement pulsed through my veins as I got into Gavin’s truck. I didn’t know why. He was only driving me home. Maybe it was the lingering effects of my weird anxiety-induced arousal. That, and the habit I’d developed of daydreaming about him. Spending the evening next to