Can't Help Falling in Love
Page 17

 Bella Andre

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She looked momentarily surprised by his agreement. No doubt because he hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to be friendly with her. Not like Zach or Ryan had at the party.
“It will just take me a second, if you want to have a seat.”
Gabe was pulling up a stool at the kitchen counter when she grabbed a bag of beans from a small pantry along the way and shook out a couple of beans. She gave him a cute little look of consternation and he had to wonder if it was caused solely by the lack of coffee beans or if having him there in her space was the real reason.
“I have more beans,” she said. “Somewhere.” She turned and scanned the rest of her cupboards before admitting, “I still haven’t quite gotten used to our new apartment. Sometimes I think I definitely have something and then I’ll realize it was destroyed in the fire and I never got around to replacing it.”
Gabe had to practically sit on his hands to keep from moving to her and pulling her into his arms to console her. Instead, he said, “It can take a while to process what happened, Megan.”
She sighed. “I just didn’t think I’d feel so lost and rootless without my things. Because they’re just things, you know?” She shook her head and smiled at him. “Summer and I are fine and that’s what matters.”
He was struck, yet again, by how strong she always expected herself to be, and wanted to say something more to let her know that it was okay to grieve her loss, even of little things, when she snapped her fingers and said, “Wait, I know where the beans are.” She pointed at a cupboard that went up to the ceiling. “Up there.”
She was reaching for a stool that was stored between the fridge and the counter when he said, “I’ll get them for you.”
He could easily reach the bag of beans on the top shelf, but he hadn’t realized just how small the kitchen would be when two people were in it. And somehow, by the time he turned around with the coffee, Megan was pressed back against the pantry shelves.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
But she didn’t take the coffee from him and he didn’t give it to her. Instead, both of them just stared at each other.
When he saw his own desperate need reflected in her eyes, he dropped the bag of coffee behind him onto the counter and took her face in his hands. He bent his head down just as she went onto her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and lifted her face to his.
Their mouths met a moment later, hot and hungry, long past gentle or sweet. It was a kiss that had been on the verge of happening more than once and was now completely out of control. She tasted like sugar and champagne and something else that was entirely Megan. Her hair was so soft against his fingers and the little moans of pleasure she made into his mouth as they kissed drove him crazy.
He ran his tongue over the plump curve of her lower lip and she melted deeper into him, her curves pliable and so damn sweet as he tasted the corner where her upper and lower lip came together before plunging back into her mouth to tangle with her tongue.
Just as their kiss had gone from zero to one hundred in a millisecond, that’s how Gabe wanted to take her. Fast and hard, up against the wall, the pantry doors banging as he slammed into her to take the intense pleasure their very first kiss was already promising.
And yet, despite how much he wanted her, Gabe knew he had to put the brakes on—and fast. But just as he started to pull away, Megan’s hands abruptly moved from around his neck to splay flat across his chest so that she could push out of his arms.
The words “I shouldn’t be kissing you,” flew from her lips at the same moment he said, “I can’t do this.”
Chapter Eight
He should have pulled away from her; she should have stepped out of his arms. But neither of them moved.
Not sure who he was trying to convince more, Gabe explained, “I don’t date people I’ve pulled from burning buildings.”
Almost before he finished speaking, she gave her own explanation. “I can’t be with someone who could die at any minute.”
It was a moment of pure honesty, their first one.
No, Gabe quickly admitted. That kiss had been their first truly honest moment together. Honest passion...full-throttle desire.
As she finally slipped out of his arms and he moved to let her go, she added, “After the way Summer’s father died, I just can’t.”
He should have been leaving, should have left five minutes ago so that none of this could have happened. But, Lord, he wouldn’t regret that smoking-hot kiss. And he wanted to understand Megan’s reasons as well as he did his own.
“How did he die?”
“He was a fighter pilot.”
“Navy?”
She nodded, looking heartbroken, and he had a moment of serious jealousy over a dead man. What was happening to him?
“I don’t date men like you with jobs like yours. Not anymore. Summer was only a toddler when David died, but it still hurt her. If I were to let her get close to another man with a job like that and one day he didn’t come home...”
She seemed to realize she’d said too much about herself and quickly turned the question back on him. “And I’m assuming you don’t date woman you save because—”
“It never works out.” He’d heard what she’d said about not letting herself date a guy in his dangerous line of work, but he could still taste that kiss, could still hear her sexy little moans as their tongues had slipped and slid against each other. Yet again, he didn’t know whether it was for her or for himself when he said, “It’s just not a normal way for two people to meet. It sets up expectations. Ones that can never be lived up to in everyday, real life.”
Knowing he was the one saying too much now, he was glad when she took another step back from him and said, “Okay.”
She gave him a smile that trembled slightly around the edges. “I’m glad we’ve got that out in the open.” She licked her lips. “Settled between us.”
He shouldn’t have been standing there thinking how cute she was when she was nervous, but damn it, that was exactly what he was doing. And he sure as hell shouldn’t have been on the verge of reaching for her and kissing her sweet mouth again.
Gabe shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from straying back to her gorgeous curves. He needed to leave, the sooner the better. She’d make the coffee. He’d drink it. And then he’d say goodbye and go back to his place and not let himself think about her, damn it.