“Is this your first time riding dirties, city boy?” she teased. “You grow up here, that’s all there is to do sometimes. Not to be confused with ‘riding dirty’, of course.”
“It would seem that stopping to make out anywhere around here is only inviting an ax murderer to chop your head off.”
“Well…just wait.” She lapsed into silence and watched the landscape creep by. It was intermittently flat and moonlit, then choked with foliage. “I’ve always wanted to go into a place like that,” she said as they passed yet another abandoned, decrepit old house, lonely in the moonlight. “Not sure why.”
“It would be pretty cool. Until fuckin’ Jason shows up with a machete.”
“It’s all fun and games until someone gets decapitated.”
“Right?”
Another bumpy, dusty mile later, the road widened and the trees thinned out until a spectacular lake came into view, calm and glassy in the still wind. “Wow,” he said, trying not to look so he didn’t drive off the road.
“Pretty, isn’t it? Keep going… See that turn-off up there? Take that. There’s a great view up on that hill.”
It was deserted, so apparently it wasn’t the prime make-out spot anymore. He brought the car to a stop, and Gabby popped open her door and bounded out. Ian followed, taking in the scenery, the pale roadway the light of the moon made across the surface of the water. Out here, far removed from the lights and noise of civilization, there was no sound but the symphony of frogs and crickets and the gentle lapping of the water on the shore.
“I haven’t been here in so long,” she said, walking around to slide up on the hood of her car. He took his place beside her. “And don’t worry,” she went on, nudging his arm with her elbow, “it was never to make out. I had this one friend who was eternally convinced her boyfriend was cheating on her, and we had to drive by here every other night to check if he was here.”
Okay, so maybe he had felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of her here with some other dude. He could admit it. Laughing at being called on it, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her closer to his side. “Yeah? Well, maybe we should change that.”
“Ooh, I could go for that.”
Her breath caressed his mouth a half second before her lips did, warm and softer than the light breeze. So sweet. She sighed and melted into his kiss, and he could hardly take it—but then she gasped and jerked away.
Moonlight sparked in her deep green eyes. “I’ve always wanted to make out here to Mazzy Star’s ‘Fade Into You’. I’ve got it on my phone!” She leaped excitedly off the hood and ran for the door while he laughed and shook his head.
“Whatever you want, baby.” He admired the scenery while she synced the phone to her car, and then the dreamy strains filled the air, adding to the music of the night.
Grinning, she rejoined him, whispered, “Perfect,” and put her lips back to his. All at once, he was swept away…by her, by the song, by the beauty around them, and every ounce of restraint he possessed stretched to the breaking point with the need to tear through her walls, take her, make her his…wipe out every bad memory of what her ex had done to her. Replace them all with good. But he didn’t know if he could give her the kind of good she deserved. The absolute best of everything. How could he do that when he had nothing?
She broke away from him and stared up into his eyes, her fingers stroking the back of his neck. “You haven’t shared much.”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Nothing much to share.”
“What’s one thing you would want to pass on to our baby?”
From himself? God, he couldn’t think of anything. A lump lodged in his throat, and he could hardly breathe around it. Or maybe it was the sight of her, damn near ethereal in the moonlight, looking at him as if she wanted all the secrets of his soul laid out before her.
He hoped their baby was an exact replica of her. Not so much of him.
“I don’t know about passing anything on,” he said. “I’d rather build something brand-new. New traditions. New things that maybe he or she would want to pass on someday.”
“I like that,” she said softly; then her mouth curved in a smile. “You have your love of baseball, if nothing else, though.”
“Oh yeah. Definitely that. This kid will be a Rangers fan for sure.”
“Then we’ll be all right.” Her lips sought his again, and it was pure magic. Her long hair slid through his fingers like silk as he pulled her closer, ever closer. Here, surrounded by nothing but nature and moonlight and an almost miraculously apt song, he really could pretend they were the only two people in the world. And he liked it.
Hours later, at Ian’s apartment, Gabby snuggled closer to him on the bed. Already, she’d draped one arm and one leg over him, and it didn’t feel close enough. It wasn’t like her to fall so hard so fast, but it also wasn’t like her to be in denial for so long. It was happening. His steady heartbeat beneath her ear could become the rhythm of her life, and the variables and unknowns didn’t seem to matter as much when she was right here.
Light from the TV flickered in the dark room, and he chuckled at whatever was happening onscreen. Despite her extended nap, she was nearly dozing. When he pulled her closer to slide a kiss across her forehead, though, she couldn’t resist tilting her face up to get the full impact of that mouth.
Warmth spread through her as his lips met hers. Her heart jerked out of its lazy pace and settled into a throbbing pulse that awakened the dormant parts of her. He tilted his head, angling deeper, his tongue seeking entrance. She gave it, but he teased, taking a taste of her and pulling back until she was forced to chase after him.
“Baby,” he murmured against her lips as she reclaimed them, “I’m trying to keep my hands off you as much as I can.”
She whimpered her distress, stroking her hand over his hair. “Please don’t.”
“You know the doctor said take it easy for a few days.”
“I know.” Gabby pouted, nibbling his bottom lip and tugging it gently. “That doesn’t mean you have to keep your hands off me.”
“If I start touching you, I won’t want to stop.”
“You don’t have to stop. You can touch me all night. Just touch me.”
“Ahh,” he groaned, catching on. “But that’ll be torture.”
“Oh, I know. Such sweet torture.” She let her hand play across his bare chest, her fingers sliding against his nipple rings. He gave a shudder as she brushed them, and she giggled. “I never thought I liked these much until I saw them on you.”
“Glad I could sway your thinking.” He kissed her deep, rolling her under him, careful not to put his weight on her. Always so careful. She cupped his face with both hands and melted beneath his kiss, let him plunder, met his exploring tongue with a thorough exploration of her own. And he was so sweet, so, so sweet. His hand slipped under the hem of the T-shirt she wore now—one of his, actually—pulling it up as his fingers journeyed to the underside of her breast. She arched into him, seeking the contact. Drowning in the luscious intimacy of his kiss.
A few quick adjustments and he had stripped the shirt off her. “Oh yes,” she whispered, needing the closeness, needing his skin against hers. She ached, throbbed for him, and the more she tried to keep arousal at bay and just enjoy the simple beauty of his big hands on her, the more it warmed and bloomed in her core. He stroked her nipple with his thumb, then rolled the tight, ultrasensitive bud between his fingers.
“God,” she breathed, squeezing her eyes closed. “I can hardly stand it.”
At her words, he released and circled with his thumb again. When he suddenly chuckled, she opened her eyes in surprise. “I think they’re even bigger,” he said, and she joined in his amusement.