Can't Help Falling in Love
Page 22

 Bella Andre

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He stared at her for a beat too long before nodding and closing the door behind him.
* * *
Gabe was known in the firehouse for his determination. He’d always had a knack for quickly sifting through data and then making good decisions on a course of action. But now, for the first time in his life, he felt as if he’d stepped onto a runaway train. One where he saw Megan through the window and he was leaping on board without thinking.
Megan was his ultimate temptation, plain and simple, and he wasn’t fool enough to think he’d be able to hold out against her allure much longer. Fortunately, he’d promised her he wouldn’t kiss her at the restaurant. And making a pass at her in front of her daughter on the slopes was out of the question.
Both of those things meant the pressure should be off. At least for the time being.
Eventually, however, Gabe had a feeling that if they didn’t get a handle on the situation, just like the flashover point of a fire, the force of their attraction was bound to blow apart their good intentions to stay away from each other.
Facts were facts: he had no business asking her to dinner tonight. Snowboarding lessons for her and Summer weren’t much smarter.
The situation was cut and dried. They’d laid it out to each other the night before. They were both off limits to each other.
And yet...every time he had a chance to walk away, he found himself needing to move closer to her instead.
Chapter Ten
Megan hated the nervous butterflies in her stomach.
It wasn’t a date. It was just dinner...with a really hot guy. They’d talk about Summer, the state of the slopes, favorite runs to ski, and then she’d pick up her daughter from the sleigh ride. Nothing more than two people who had been thrown together enough times to accept that they should be friends.
She smoothed down the long-sleeved dark green wool dress she’d thrown into her bag at the last minute. It wasn’t high fashion by any means, but at least she felt pretty. And sometimes a girl needed a little armor to make it through the night in one piece, which was why she’d redone her makeup after her quick shower.
Gabe was waiting for her by the fireplace and her stupid heart actually skipped a beat when he smiled. Hoping her expression didn’t betray her, she smiled back.
“You look great, Megan.”
“Thanks.” She took in his jeans and dark blue, long-sleeved shirt. “So do you.”
The growing heat in his eyes was response enough for her to realize she’d already gone off course on the whole “nothing but friends” thing.
She put her hand over her stomach. “I’m starved. Let’s eat!” Okay, so maybe that was overly cheerful, and maybe she wasn’t actually hungry at all after she and Summer had pigged out on Cracker Jacks and beef jerky all afternoon in the car, but keeping everything completely nonsexual was the key to making it through dinner in one piece.
Yes, she could do that. Heck, by the end of the evening she vowed to win an award for being the least sensual woman on the planet.
Gabe followed her into the restaurant, where he told the host, “Two for Sullivan.”
His low, slightly husky voice made thrill bumps rise across her skin.
They were, unfortunately, shown to a table in a dimly lit corner. One quite obviously set up for romance with a flower and a candle. She wasn’t usually all that picky about where she sat, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking for another option. Wouldn’t you know it, all the other tables were full.
She realized, belatedly, that Gabe had pulled out the chair for her and was waiting with a small smile for her to take it. She got the sense he knew exactly what she was thinking, especially when he said, “Don’t worry, I’m going to keep my promise,” in a low voice as she finally sat.
Her face flamed as the young waitress waited for Gabe to take his seat. She handed them menus and told them the specials.
The girl was just turning away when Megan grabbed her arm. “Wait. I need a drink. Please.” Wracking her brain for something that had a ton of alcohol in it, she said, “A Long Island iced tea.”
“Um, okay,” the girl said, and Megan realized in horror that she was still holding her arm.
“Sorry!”
The girl shrugged. “I’ll tell your server you’re thirsty.”
Megan felt hot all over—not the good kind of hot, but at what an idiot she was making of herself around Gabe.
“So you’re a big drinker, huh?”
She looked up at him in surprise, before realizing he was teasing her.
“No.” She licked her lips, made herself hold his gorgeous gaze. She was only getting herself into trouble by trying to act like this dinner was no big deal.
By trying to feign not wanting him.
“I only drink when I’m nervous.”
“Do I make you nervous?”
She refused to look away. “You know you do.”
He didn’t look away, either. “If it makes you feel any better, you make me nervous, too.”
Bad. This was bad. They were both heading down the wrong path.
So even though she had trouble taking her next breath, she made herself say, “Tell me about the snow. How was it out there today?”
He continued to stare at her for several long moments. Please, she silently prayed, please follow me away from temptation. They both knew platonic was the only thing that made sense.
Finally, he said, “The snow is good. Perfect powder after the recent storm. Should be great conditions to learn to board tomorrow.”
“About that. It’s really sweet of you to agree to teach Summer—”
“—and you—”
“—and me to snowboard. But I know you came here to—”
“—have fun with friends on the mountain. That’s what we’re going to do tomorrow. Be friends, having fun.”
But, thought Megan a little wildly, what about when she had a little too much fun? What about when she lost all control and couldn’t bear to be just friends for another second?
The waitress came with her drink and took their order. As soon as the woman left, Megan knew it was time to say, “I’m beyond mortified about what Summer did. I haven’t actually figured out how she got wind of your trip here. If you’re upset with us, I completely understand.”
He shrugged, not looking too concerned about the machinations of a seven-year-old with a case of hero worship. “I’m sure she overheard me talking to someone at the party. And I’m not upset about seeing you.”