The Thrill of the Chase (10 page)

"
Oh,
"
she said.

"
What do you do?
"
he fired back at her.

"
I
'
m a receptionist at a dental office.
"
Her answer was softly spoken.

"
Yeah? You
'
ve got beautiful teeth.
"
His eyes were on her, never looking away.

She let that slide off as the conversation became more twisted.

"
You bought the car six y-years ago? How
--
how old are you?
"
She was so curious about him.

"
Twenty-eight. Didn
'
t you do your homework?
"
he asked.

"
Homework?
"

"
Yeah, you know, the usual shit women do when they
'
re interested in a man? Google. Facebook stalking.
"
He smiled.
"
Dun and Bradstreet,
"
he said, tongue in cheek.

She bristled.
"
I
'
m not interested, Gibson. I
'
m not interested in you. I
'
m not interested in your money.
"

"
Okay. Whatever.
"
His words were neutral.

They silently studied each other until she spoke.
"
You received a signing bonus big enough to buy a Corvette at what, twenty-two years old?
"

"
Yeah.
"

"
How?
"
She truly wanted to know.

"
How, what?
"
he asked.

"
How
'
d you manage that?
"

"
They wanted me, babe. Graduated from Rice with a 3.98.
"
He smiled a killer smile.
"
I got charisma,
"
he drawled in his deep, sexy voice.
"
They wanted my shit. Still do.
"

Julie swallowed and looked away from him and toward his car. Her thoughts were in turmoil. He was way, way out of her league. All she had known about him was surface stuff. She figured he was probably in his late twenties, and knew he looked good enough to eat, but she
'
d never known he was rich and well-educated.
Rice
. Sheesh.

She had a high school education, twelve hundred in revolving credit card debt she couldn
'
t seem to shake, and lived in an apartment with two other women so they could all share the bills.

Well, so much for daydreaming about Gibson. She wasn
'
t going to embarrass herself any longer. As of this moment, she was going to take his advice and quit fantasizing about him. She hadn
'
t really ever chased him, no matter what he thought, but as of now, that dream was dead.

She turned back to face him.

"
I can
'
t drive your car. I thought you had a Ford Taurus or something.
"

"
I have insurance, babe.
"
As he said it, he walked over to her and slid the keys from her hand. He opened the driver
'
s side door, and waited.

Slowly, she walked toward him. She
'
d never even ridden in a Corvette before and wanted to at least see the interior.

He leaned inside, put the key in the ignition and started it.

He stood back to his full height and took her hand in his. He lifted her chin and placed a soft, single kiss on her lips.
"
I was a bastard last night. You didn
'
t deserve it. You
'
re nothing but soft and sweet and I owe you an apology. Just because I have issues with Ryan, that doesn
'
t mean I should take it out on you. It
'
s not your fault. Drive the car, babe. Be careful. I don
'
t give a shit about the car, but I want you to be safe. It
'
s got a lot of power.
Be careful
.
"

He was being so gentle and her eyes welled softly with tears.
"
Are you sure?
"

"
I
'
m sure.
"
He watched her carefully, concerned about the tears he could see in her eyes.

"
Thanks. I don
'
t know what to say, I
--"

"
Say you
'
ll be safe.
"
If he couldn
'
t have her, he at least wanted to know she was safe.

"
Yes. I
'
ll be safe.
"

"
I
'
ll call you next week when your car is ready, okay?
"

"
Okay,
"
she agreed.

He pushed her toward the door, and she slid inside. The leather seats and the wood grain interior wrapped around her. He told her a few things about the controls and showed her how to adjust the seat and mirror.

He pushed the door closed, and she looked at him for a few moments through the window before carefully backing out of his driveway.

Gibson watched her pull out and slowly drive down the street. A sharp feeling of pleasure ran through him as he watched her driving his car. The car his money had paid for. When he realized where his emotions were headed, he ruthlessly reined them in. Yeah, he wanted her bad. But he couldn
'
t have her. She was off limits. If he took what he wanted, he would chance losing his best friend. A black scowl crossed him features. This whole situation sucked, pure and simple.

****

If driving his car all weekend was supposed to help her get over him, it wasn
'
t working. Julie tried to focus on the difference in their circumstances every time she got in the car, but she couldn
'
t keep her mind on it. All she could remember was how gentle he
'
d been, how sweet and caring. All it did was make her crush on him even worse and she focused on never letting him know how deep her feelings for him ran.

Gibson sent her a text on Wednesday and told her the repairs were taking longer than he thought. The dealership had to order a part and he
'
d try to have her car back to her by Friday.

****

Friday night, Gibson knocked on the apartment door and stood back to wait. His stomach was tied in knots of anticipation and stress.

He needed to switch cars with her and get the hell out.

That
'
s what the brain inside his head was telling him to do.

The problem was, his body hadn
'
t been taking orders from
that head
since he
'
d turned fifteen or so.

He was arguing with himself the whole way up to her doorstep. Ryan would fucking kill him. He recited it in his brain over and over again.
Ryan would kill him
. The problem with that was she was the sweetest thing he
'
d met in a long, long time.
And
he itched to touch her.

He needed to switch the cars and get the hell out
.

The thought fled his brain when she opened the door.

"
Hi.
"
Her soft voice sent an arrow of need through his gut.

"
Hey.
"
Could she tell he wanted to reach out and grab her? Could she tell it was taking all his control to stand by the door and not push into her apartment?

She stood in front of him wearing a tiny pair of red cotton shorts and a short-sleeved, v- necked yellow t-shirt. Her skin was smooth and silky, all the way from her face to her tiny, bare feet, her toes small with pink polish.

His gut clenched with violent need. He had to get away from her. And fast. He held the key out to her without a word.

Julie reached out and took the key from his hand, determined to get him inside. Her roommates were out for the night, and she had cooked a meal for Gibson to thank him for his help.
That wasn
'
t chasing him, was it?
No, of course it wasn
'
t. She was just being nice.

"
Come in.
"
She attempted to sound casual.

"
Nah. I
'
m good.
"
He flatly refused.

"
You
'
re going to freeze. That front blew in from nowhere. I
'
m still in shorts.
"
She knew she was rambling. It had gotten cold about an hour ago. She hadn
'
t kept up with the weather and hadn
'
t known it was coming. But, after all, this was December on the Gulf Coast and the weather was likely to change from day to day.

His eyes fell to her legs. The wind was blowing in from outside. He didn
'
t want her to catch a chill and knew she wouldn
'
t shut the door on him. He reluctantly moved into the apartment.

She closed the door and they were inside.

"
I made supper for you. Are you hungry?
"

He thought about lying and telling her he
'
d eaten but the smells coming from the small kitchen were working a number on his stomach.

He
'
d never been one to turn down a home cooked meal.
"
You didn
'
t have to do that.
"
He could eat and then leave.

"
Sure I did. After all your help? I had to do something for you.
"
She smiled.
"
I mean, other than not wreck your car.
"

He gave her a half smile.
"
It smells good.
"

"
It
'
s just spaghetti.
"

"
Sounds great.
"

She led him to the small dining area off the kitchen and poured him a glass of iced tea.
"
Sit down.
"

Gibson sat and watched her move around the small kitchen. Her body was doing crazy things to his insides. As she piled a plate with food, her eyes kept cutting over to him. He managed to sit still and wait, and keep his hands to himself when she came within reaching distance and put the plate in front of him.

He waited while she sat with her own plate and then he picked up his fork.

It was then that he noticed the food on his plate. How in the world it could smell so good and look like this was beyond him. The noodles were stuck together in big clumps and resembled mush. The sauce was runny, gobs of excess moisture running over the plate and dripping over the edge. The meat in the sauce was congealed and verged on greasy. His stomach recoiled, but he tightened his grip on his fork and manfully dug in. No way was he going to hurt her feelings.

Julie was too nervous to eat. She watched him throwing the food back for a few moments before she picked up her own fork.

She took a bite and dropped the utensil with a loud clatter. She managed to swallow, take a drink of her tea, and then she reached across the table and put her hand on his wrist.
"
Stop.
"

When he looked across at her, Julie saw an expression of relief on his face. Her eyes welled with tears of mortification.

She attempted to apologize.
"
I
'
m sorry. I can
'
t believe you were eating it.
"

She felt even worse when he smiled at her.
"
It
'
s not that bad.
"

She shook her head.
"
It
'
s bad.
"