Pulse (Collide) (30 page)

“Oh my God. You’re such a geek,” Emily laughed, hugging him. “James Bond says it the other way around.” Emily deepened her voice, adding a British accent. “‘It’s Bond, James Bond.’”

Gavin frowned. His sexy bookworm was right. “Okay. You win. But it was still double O seven-ish.”

Still maintaining the British accent, Emily said, “Yes, it was. Kind of. Go ahead, Blake, Gavin Blake. It’s your turn.”

Yeah. Emily was definitely making him feel like a geek. Smiling, he shook his head. “Granite or marble?”

“Umm… granite.”

“Why did your answer sound like a question?”

“I don’t know.” Emily shrugged. Lately, he had a freakishly odd fascination with those types of questions. She figured he was just excited to get his architect magazines. “I don’t usually sit around thinking about stuff like that.”

Gavin kissed her, and although Emily shivered, he could tell it wasn’t his doing. She was getting cold. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Come on. We’ll go in now.”

She nodded.

Confident he’d taken Emily’s mind off his mother, Gavin turned the handle to find it was locked, so he rang the bell.

With a genuine, warm smile, Gavin’s father opened the door. He shook Gavin’s hand and pulled Emily in for a hug. Flicking his light blue eyes down to his watch, Chad closed the door. “You’re quite early. Your mother’s still at the grocery store picking up a few items for dinner.”

Gavin looked at Emily, the confused expression in her eyes alerting him she was onto him. She stared, scrutinizing his face as she searched for answers he wasn’t ready to give. He brought his attention back to his father, feeling like a fool caught in a web of lies. Clearing his throat, he helped Emily slip off her coat. “When I spoke to her earlier, I could’ve sworn she said five.”

“Nope. Seven fifteen.” Chad reached for Emily and Gavin’s coats and hung them in the foyer closet. “Bad hearing at your age is a sign of working long hours. You and your brother need a break.”

Grinning, Gavin crossed his arms. “Pop, I just got back from a break. I’m cool. Really.”

Chad shrugged, his tone holding nonchalance. “Eh, another can’t hurt. You’re young. Live it up.” Slapping Gavin’s back as he led them into the den, he let out a full, hearty chuckle. “Don’t tell your mother I said that, though.”

Gavin smirked, depositing himself and Emily onto the chenille sofa. “She’d put you on restriction from watching CSI if she knew you were trying to get me to play hooky.”

“She’d do worse than that, but I’d rather not go into details.” Smiling, he clapped once and looked at Emily. “I know you can’t have any liquor, but can I offer you something else? We have raspberry iced tea, water, and a few juices.”

“I’ll take a water, Mr. Blake. Thank you.”

With a loving gleam in his eyes, he smiled. “You’re part of our family now, so I insist on you
not
calling me Mr. Blake. Pop seems to be the cool name for me among my kids, including my daughter-in-law. You’re no different. Good?”

His acceptance of her and the situation spread warmth through Emily’s chest. In that moment, she understood where Gavin had acquired the charm and charisma he was born with. “Good. I’ll take a water, Pop.” The word felt foreign leaving her lips.

He shot her a wink and started for the kitchen. “Very good. I’m going to get the appetizers started. Son, a cold bottle of Sam Adams?”

“Yeah. That’ll work,” Gavin answered as his father disappeared around the corner. Sliding Emily’s hand over his lap, Gavin pushed her hair away from her neck and leaned into her ear. “You look beautiful.”

Turning to face him, she lifted a slow, suspicious brow. “Oh do I? I wouldn’t have thought so considering you didn’t want to fool around earlier.” She watched him gnaw at his bottom lip, his vibrant blue eyes revealing more than they should. For a second, her heart took a nosedive, her words falling from her mouth faster than she could comprehend. “I scheduled an appointment at a local gym with an instructor who helps pregnant women keep in shape. I won’t gain that much weight.”

Gavin reared back. “You think it has to do with your weight?”

“I’ve gained a few pounds. What else am I supposed to think? You’ve never turned down sex with me, Gavin. My hormones are raging right now, and yours… well, yours are usually no better than a teenage boy. You said you were sick last night, and then before, you just… didn’t want to. Admit you’re turned off.” Emily looked down, her voice trailing. “Oh, and nice try with the whole having to be here early excuse.”

Gavin took her face in his hands, gazing into her worried eyes. “My God, I could never be turned off by you, Emily. It’s taking everything in me to
not
hike up that skirt, bend your pretty body right over this couch, and plant myself so deep inside you, neither of us would know where the other begins or ends. Sex with you is a drug, and I’m a fucking addict. But hell if you aren’t the sweetest addiction there is to have.”

“Then what is it?” she breathed, trying to shoo away the vision of being bent over the couch. She was about to hike up her skirt and let him. She squeezed her eyes closed. Gavin holding her face so close to his wasn’t helping the hormone situation at all. Not. One. Bit.

Gavin hesitated, his voice low. “I’m… afraid of hurting you and the baby.”

Emily’s eyes flew open. “What? We’ve been having sex for the last couple of weeks. You weren’t worried then.”

“I know. But seeing the baby yesterday on the monitor somehow made it… real.” Sighing, he leaned back. “I’ll wind up hurting you. It’s impossible with the way you and I are during sex. We’re animals.”

Emily hooked her finger under his chin, bringing his gaze back to hers. “First of all, I like when you hurt me,” she whispered, her brow arched. “Second: Do you expect me to believe a man with your education can be so naïve regarding a woman’s body, pregnant or not? Third: You can’t hurt me or the baby. Couples have been having sex for billions of years while women were pregnant.”

Gavin smirked, dragging a hand through his hair. “First: When given permission, of course I like…
pleasurably
hurting you. Second: Yes, yes you can expect me to be so naïve regarding a woman’s pregnant body. The key word’s
pregnant
. Third”—he grinned and leaned into her ear—”never in a billion years have couples fucked the way we do. We break records. So with that, yes, I’m afraid of hurting you.”

Body heated, Emily sighed deeply, then moistened her lips. Her tongue was tingling to glide along Gavin’s lower abdomen. “Gavin—”

Before she could say another word, the front door swung open. Juggling three stuffed paper bags, Lillian Blake used her heel to close the door. She shook her head in an attempt to remove big, fat powdery snowflakes from her chestnut hair.

Gavin jumped to his feet, almost tripping over the coffee table as he dashed toward his mother who was about to drop every bag onto the tiled foyer floor. Snatching the bags from her arms, he popped a kiss on her cheek. “Hey, mom. It started snowing?”

Beaming, she swooshed her hand through his hair. “Yes. Pretty heavily, too.” On a sigh, she looked at Gavin, her eyes filled with love only a mother could hold. “My baby boy, I’ve missed ya. Next time you decide to take off on a two week vacation, could you think about calling the woman who brought you into this world?”

Chuckling, Gavin shook his head. “Mom, I’m twenty-eight, I own a thriving business, and my girlfriend’s sitting on the couch. You’re dropping my swoon-worthy factor by the second.”

Emily stood and made her way over to them. Also swishing her hand through his hair, she lifted a playful brow. “Ah, that swoon-worthy statement couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“No?” Gavin questioned incredulously, the gleam in his eyes predatory. “And how so?”

“Because any girl with a head on her shoulders knows a man
earns
swoon-worthy points by loving his mother,” Lillian answered with a sparkling smile. “Right, Emily?”

“My point exactly,” Emily agreed.

Gavin cocked his head to the side, a smirk twisting his face. “Well if that’s the case, just so you know, Emily, I did ask my dear mother to marry me once.”

“Yes, when he was three,” Lillian trilled, pulling her purse from her shoulder. Placing it on a glass entryway table, she gave Gavin an endearing smile and cupped his cheek. “I remember it like it was yesterday. He won a plastic engagement ring from one of those bubblegum machines, and right there in the grocery store, he dropped to one knee and proposed.”

Emily giggled, watching him turn the loveliest shade of crimson.

“Yep. The swoon-worthy factor just dropped a few hundred notches,” he confirmed, flashing an impish, schoolboy grin as he slipped into the kitchen. “I’m out of here, ladies.”

Lillian hooted out a laugh, gathering Emily into her arms for a warm embrace. “So how’ve you been?” She unpeeled a creamy white scarf swathing her neck and dropped it onto the table. After shimmying out of a heavy fur coat and hanging it in the closet, she turned to Emily. “It’s been a while and a lot has happened. I hope you’re doing well.”

Unsure how much she knew about what’d happened with her, Gavin, and Dillon, Emily simply nodded. “I’m doing much better, thank you. How’ve you been?”

“Good. I’ve been busy building up the organization. We’re trying to spread into New Jersey. It looks like it may happen, too,” she said happily, linking her arm through Emily’s. They started for the kitchen. “Let’s go see if our men are attempting to burn down the house.”

Once again feeling a warm, welcome flush through her limbs, Emily noticed just how opposite her and Gavin’s upbringings were. Where she lacked a father figure, Gavin was raised by a strong man who trusted good would prevail over any bad situation. Though Emily’s mother was there as much as possible, Lillian had stayed home with both boys until they entered high school. Sure, Lillian’s situation was different since she’d married an honest, caring man, but even in her darkest hours suffering through her battle with breast cancer, she never stopped trying to achieve a sense of normalcy in their home. Two very different colored lights at opposite sides of life’s spectrum. Now all Emily needed to believe was she and Gavin had been brought together for a reason. Hopefully that reason was what would be the main focus of conversation during dinner.

Once they entered the kitchen, both women were happy to see neither man was in the process of setting the house ablaze. Father and son had put the groceries away and started mixing, sizzling, and baking what smelled to be something delicious.

“Don’t ever let them think you can’t train them,” Lillian whispered, her smile as contagious as Gavin’s. “It’s actually quite easy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Emily responded, completely unable to stifle a small giggle.

Turning with a frying pan in his hand, Gavin caught Emily’s gaze. He grinned and did some fancy flick with his wrist, popping what appeared to be pasta up from the pan the way a trained chef would. “Quite talented, right?” he asked, reaching for his bottle of cold brew on the counter. After downing a sip, he attempted to show off again only to flop half of the noodles onto the floor. Marinara sauce coated the kitchen from one end to the other.

Gavin looked up from the mess half-laughing and half-groaning while rolling his eyes. Needless to say, he was the only one groaning, because right along with Emily belting out a laugh, so did his parents. Several damp paper towels, some cleaning product, and a quick mop of the floor later, Mr. Show Off’s failed attempt was a thing of the past. Within a half hour, Lillian had everything under control.

The four sat down in the dining room for a hearty, home-cooked meal of house salad, breaded eggplant parmesan, Italian bread, and courtesy of Gavin, a tiny helping of pasta. Emily relaxed a bit, enjoying the conversation while she could. She knew their news would soon end it.

She learned Chad and Lillian met while attending Harvard Law School. Not quite your typical “love at first sight” story, but Emily found out where Gavin gained his tendency to relentlessly pursue what he wanted. Chad had chased Lillian for two semesters, insisting he was the man for her, until she eventually agreed to go out on one date with him. Emily inwardly laughed at how that apple didn’t fall far from the tree. To their surprise, Lillian found out she was pregnant with Colton the following year. They agreed she would leave school for the time being to stay home and raise Colton. A shotgun wedding, another baby, a mortgage, a dog, and Little League baseball practices later, Lillian never made her way back to law school. However, as Emily took in the story of their life together, there didn’t seem to be an ounce of regret in either of their eyes when they looked at one another. Instead, a lifetime of love and memories bled through every word, smile, and hoot of laughter.

After clearing the remnants of dinner from the table and waiting for his parents to bring dessert into the dining room, Gavin couldn’t help but hear Emily’s heel pat the hardwood floor in relentless, jerky taps. The sound echoed, pouncing off the walls like raindrops against a glass window. God, he hated that she was so nervous. It scorched his heart.

Before he could tell her everything was going to be fine, his parents breezed into the room, his father gripping a freshly brewed pot of coffee and his mother holding a homemade apple pie. With their seats reclaimed, Lillian sliced into the just out-of-the-oven dessert and served them each a slice. Staring at his father from across the table, Gavin could see he was nervous as well. His ashen, troubled expression told all. Gavin couldn’t even feign a smile as he slugged back the rest of his beer in one long gulp. Hell. His nerves were lighting up, but he knew he needed to strike up the damn conversation. However, his voice got tangled up in his racing thoughts, his words sticking to his tongue like molasses.

His father looked at him once more, nodding as he cleared his throat. “Lillian, Gavin and Emily have some… news they want to share.” His eyes locked on Gavin’s with such solemn seriousness, Gavin wanted to leave and take Emily as far away as possible to somewhere no one would ever find them. “Go ahead, son. Let your mother know what’s going on.”