He tilted in. His breath stroked her cheek. “I’ll tell you in a minute.”
Oh boy. She was in trouble.
He paused.
She pulsed.
His hands made it the rest of the way around her. “You have to initiate it, remember?”
Goldie’s pulse ratcheted. Was this really happening? He’d basically invited her to kiss him, and she wanted to. She wanted the connection, the sensation of getting lost here with him in the dark.
But she couldn’t do it yet. She had to tell him something she’d never told anyone else before. Something that seemed vital before opening herself to him like this.
“Goldie isn’t my real name, you know,” she said, placing a hand on his abs and shivering at their rock hard feel.
“Oh? What is it?”
“Gabrielle,” she said, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against his. “My mom loved the name, but it turned first to Gabby. Then, because of my hair, my dad started calling me Goldie, and it just stuck. Even I use the name all the time now.”
His fingers stroked her hair, lifting it from her neck. The touch shivered up her spine. “It’s really something. These highlights of yours. I know a lot of women pay for hair like this, and I’m guessing you didn’t.”
Goldie dipped her chin. “I know. I love my hair.”
“Me too,” he said. “That’s not all I like about you, Gabby. I’m glad you told me your real name.”
Her heart picked up speed. Pressed against him as she was in the confined space, Goldie slipped her hand behind his neck and tiptoed upward. Her body enflamed, palpitating at the prospect, at his touch, at his nearness and his breath, until her lids fluttered closed and she pressed her mouth to his.
It was sunshine, pure and vibrant and pulsing. It was the sky and seclusion. It was the first time she’d ever gotten lost and wanted to stay that way. His hands stroked her jaw as his lips coerced hers, enticing her closer. Goldie pivoted for better access, and his hands traveled along her side, cupping her jaw, keeping her fastened to him.
“That,” he said at last with a breath, “is definitely a favorite part of you.”
“What?”
“You need me to show you again?” He drew her back, kissing her soundly, willingly, without reserve, the way he did everything. Adrian was an open book. He was kind and generous, he was thoughtful and spoke his mind. And his kisses were just as tantalizing as he was.
Slowly, Goldie pulled away and nestled against his chest. “This is so surreal to me. It’s like a story from a fairy tale. Who would have thought I’d meet the most gorgeous guy, sleep in his cabin—”
“Eat his food,” he quipped.
She punched him on the shoulder. “And be living this daydream right now? It’s almost like it’s someone else. Not me.”
“Oh, it’s you all right.” He kissed her once. “And me.” Twice.
“I like the sound of that,” she said, kissing him back. Longer and longer, she lost herself in his affections.
His lips whispered against her skin. “Tell me everything about you. Everything I don’t know.”
“I’m not that interesting.”
“Trust me,” he said with another zingy kiss. “You are exactly that interesting.”
“I love to bake,” she said.
His nose teased her temple. “So you’ve told me.”
Her lashes fluttered. She did her best to keep her thoughts on track. “I’d like to make something for your mom.” The words before I go nearly slipped out, but she held them in. She didn’t want to ruin whatever this was with talk of endings, not when it felt like her life had just begun.
“Okay then. What did you have in mind?”
“What about monkey bread?”
Adrian sputtered a laugh.
“I’m serious.”
“Monkey bread isn’t a thing.”
“Yes, it is. And it’s delicious.”
His thumb caressed her jaw. “All right then. When are we making it?”
She took a step back, finding her way out of the cozy nook they’d found. The enclosed space, and his hands around her waist, had prevented her from moving much further, and she needed some ventilation to clear him from her senses.
It was brighter out here, and not just because of the sunlight. “I think you mean me,” she said. “When am I making it?”
“A gentleman doesn’t allow a lady to make monkey bread alone.”
She quirked a brow. “That’s not Shakespeare.”
“I never said it was.”
She laughed. “Fine. Tonight?” She really needed to correct those papers. She’d also considered dropping by her aunt’s house again. Time was running out, and she couldn’t have come all this way for nothing.
Glancing at Adrian, though, and pressing a finger to her swollen lips, she realized it wasn’t completely for nothing.
“My mom and Jordan are heading out to an FFA meeting tonight. Future Farmers of America. We’ll have the house to ourselves.”
Her breath hitched. “The house, as in—?”
“As in my house. Where I’ve been staying.”
Not the bed and breakfast. His house. Goldie forgot how to breathe altogether.
She paused before a collection of saddles hanging on pegs on the wall. “Are you sure you don’t have anything better to do than keep me company? I can go to a hotel, Adrian. I know you wanted to go back to Chicago once that fundraiser was over. You said your business needs you.”
“My business will be fine. I delayed my plans, and tonight, I have no other agenda than monkey bread.”
Goldie’s stomach burned. She wanted this to be sincere. She wanted to believe he was as interested in her as he seemed to be. A warning wedged itself into her chest. She knew better than to let herself get closer to him. It would only make things harder when her time here was up. When his time here was up.
She couldn’t let this pass her by, though.
“Fair enough. Eight o’clock?”
He wove his fingers through hers, lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed it. “Can’t wait.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ADRIAN WALKED GOLDIE—NO, GABBY—BACK TO the main house. He wanted to
