They returned to Gabe’s place and unpacked the groceries. Romantic candlelight softly lit the tiny kitchen and mellow show tunes soothed them as they ate the delicious dinner. Jenny, hands buried deep in warm, sudsy water washed a spatula, when a stinging snap bit her butt.
“Youch!” she jumped and spun around. “What the—?”
Gabe stood near the table giving the platter he was drying undue attention. He looked up and frowned. “You okay?”
She scowled at his innocent expression. “Cute, Harrison.”
Jenny turned back to the dishes. In the window reflection, she caught sight of Gabe winding his towel seconds before a crack sounded and her other buttock smarted.
“Ow!” She whirled around. “Knock it off.” She rubbed her stinging butt. “That hurts.”
Gabe widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows. “Did a bee sting you?”
“I’ll show you bee sting,” she muttered, glaring.
“Me?” He managed to keep a straight face, but his eyes were smiling—the brat. Jenny had never mastered the wrist-flick necessary to whip a towel, but she’d get even.
Head down, she diligently scrubbed a pot while watching his reflection in the window. He wound the towel once, twice, three times. As he pulled back, she spun around and turned freezing cold water on her tormenter.
“Wha—?” Gabe held his hands up to block the spray. “Are you crazy?”
His blue dress shirt turned navy as water bounced off the saturated shirt. He backed away, then dodged right, then left. Jenny relentlessly kept the spray trained on him, refusing to show any mercy. Gabe charged her, trying to wrestle the hose from her grasp.
“I.” She twisted in his arms and held the nozzle as far away from him as she could. “Warned. You,” Jenny huffed.
Instead of going for the hose, Gabe attacked her ribs, tickling.
Squirming, Jenny dropped the nozzle and slid out of his hold.
Gabe grabbed the hose, tossed it in the sink, and slapped the water off.
“Not fair,” she wheezed.
“You call this fair?” He gestured to the water dripping off the cabinets, streaking the stainless steel refrigerator, puddling on the stove. He shook his head, like a shaggy dog, sending water spraying everywhere.
Oh my God. Jenny grimaced at the dripping kitchen and water pooling all over his hardwood floors. What’d gotten into her? Gaze never leaving Gabe’s face, Jenny tried to gauge how angry he was as she backed away. What kind of retaliation would he exact? Her mouth gapped open and closed. “I’m... I’m... I’m so sor—”
Gabe lunged forward, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her forward, plastering her against his cold, soaked body.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I—” She twisted and squirmed, but his grip didn’t loosen a bit. Pursing her lips, she reared back to break his hold, then froze when she saw the humor in his eyes. He wasn’t angry; he was amused—and aroused. Now still, Jenny felt his erection throb against her belly. Like a light switch flicked, her shortness of breath and adrenaline rush took on an entirely different feeling. That type of retribution she was willing to take.
Jenny relaxed into his embrace and pulled Gabe’s head down for a long, deep kiss. Through wet, clinging clothes, the heat of his body and pound of his heart called to her. She fumbled with his buttons, impatient to peel the shirt from his body. Gabe brushed her hands aside, ripped the remaining buttons, and yanked his shirt free from the waistband.
“Think you can distract me with a few pretty kisses?” he growled.
Jenny shivered as his warm breath tickled her ear. She ran her hand over his goose bumpy chest to his puckered nipples. Leaning forward, she licked one nub. Cold and rough. Hmm. She took it in her mouth and suckled, then a little harder as she felt the rumbling of Gabe’s groan against her lips. He liked it. She released his nipple with a kiss.
“Is it working?”
Gabe groaned again and burrowed into her neck. “Maybe.”
Good to know. Jenny tugged on his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. He stood still, allowing her to divest him of the soggy clothes.
“In that case,” she purred and pressed close, pushing his bare back against the refrigerator. Ignoring his quick hiss, she rose up on tiptoes, slipped her arms around his neck. “I intend to distract you a whole lot more.”
Gabe picked her up and carried her down the hall into the bathroom.
Reaching around her, he twisted the shower, set her on the counter, then quickly stripped. Jenny followed his every move with hungry eyes, enjoying his striptease. Naked, Gabe braced hands on either side of her hips and kissed her again. Only lips touching skin-to-skin, Jenny grabbed his shoulders, dug in her nails to bring Gabe closer to give her better access to damp body.
So much bare skin to explore, Jenny wasn’t sure where she wanted to start. When Gabe held her waist and lifted her, Jenny’s legs instinctively circled him as she pulled closer and feathered kisses along his jaw.
Gabe carried her into the shower, and Jenny hid her face against his neck as the hot, steamy water sluiced over her head, arm, and soaked half her body. Beneath the hot, steamy water, Gabe returned the favor of stripping Jenny, paying special attention to the long forgotten stings on her bottom, which had started the whole war.
Who said fighting and making up wasn’t fun?
Jenny woke alone in Gabe’s bed and watched dust motes dance in soft morning light. A note lay on his pillow next to a perfect, pale rose bud, telling her he’d been called away to the hospital.
Wandering into his kitchen, Jenny found three more roses, wrapped in cellophane, sitting in a drinking glass on the kitchen table next to a mushy Hallmark card. What a sweetie; Gabe had remembered their four-month anniversary.
The bleeping of her telephone interrupted her musings. Startled, Jenny dropped her rose and sifted through the papers, looking for her phone. There it was, under the mail.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Jen. What are you doing?” Gabe asked.
“Working. What about you? I thought you were operating all day?”
“My last case got cancelled. I’m meeting a realtor to look at a house. Want to come?”
She did. She hadn’t seen Gabe in a couple of days and she missed him. It didn’t really matter what they did—being with him made her happy. But on deadline, she needed to finish her article before she went for a job interview at La Trattoria at four. She needed that waitress job to pay off the balance on her VISA. Rent was due soon, and she still owed her dad from last month.
“Tempting, but I have to work.”
“You’re not working now.”
She dropped the rose, feeling guilty. “I was before you called.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying,” she claimed in an indignant voice.
“You’re sitting there, probably with one bare foot propped up on your desk, daydreaming. About me, I hope.”
Jenny froze. “How—?”
“I’m glad you like the roses, Jen, but come out with me.”
Jenny bolted out of her chair. She looked at the closed apartment door, then the kitchen and the hallway. He must be here, somehow watching her. “Where are you?”
A shadow outside the window caught her attention. He was on the deck. Gabe held up his cell phone and waved.
“Rat,” she chuckled.
“Please? It’ll only take an hour and a half, max, then I’ll bring you right back to work.”
Please. She sighed. She’d always been a sucker for a man with manners. Jenny hung up the phone, slipped into her shoes, grabbed her purse, and walked to the door. Tossing her long hair over one shoulder, she arched a brow. “An hour and a half? I’m going to hold you to that, Harrison.”
He smiled and closed the door behind her. “Hello to you, too.”