Pulse - McHugh Gail (электронные книги без регистрации .TXT) 📗

Lounging into the chair next to her, Gavin smirked, slipped his hand under the table, and rested it on Emily’s thigh. Drawing tiny circles along her silk skirt, he smiled when he felt her shift. “I was able to talk her down. It was easier than I expected, though.”

“Good,” Michael said, dumping a pile of green beans onto his plate.

“I’m sure being on a private jet helped some,” Lisa said, reaching for a bowl of mashed potatoes. After scooping some out, she handed them to Emily. “Those seven-forty-sevens scare the shit out of me.”

“Private jet?” Phil stared in shock across the table. “Did you hit the lotto?”

Gavin turned to Emily, a lazy smile on his face.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “In more ways than one,” she whispered. Gavin squeezed her thigh, his smile widening. Emily shoveled some mashed potatoes onto her plate. Looking at Gavin, her eyes questioned if he wanted some. Gavin nodded, and she served him up a pile. “No, Phil, the jet’s Gavin’s. And, Lisa, you’re correct. It’s better than flying on seven-forty-sevens. But either way, you’re still in the air where humans don’t belong. I hate it.”

Gavin and Michael chuckled.

“Shit,” Lisa chimed, standing to her feet. “What are you two drinking?” she asked, looking at Emily and Gavin.

“Red wine,” Emily answered.

“Thank you,” Gavin said. “I’ll take a beer if you have one.”

Lisa nodded and whisked off to the kitchen.

Leaning back, Phil crossed his arms. “A man who owns a jet drinks a simple beer? I would’ve thought someone who could afford such a luxury would prefer something more refined. Looks can be deceiving.”

Emily’s eyes flew from Gavin—clenching his jaw—to Michael, his hand halted with his fork inches from his mouth. She swallowed nervously, placing her hand over Gavin’s on her thigh.

Amusement at the asshole’s statement glimmered in Gavin’s eyes as he leaned back, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t aware there were rules to what one should drink whether they’re rich, poor, or somewhere in the middle, Phil. It’d be interesting to hear how you formed this opinion, though.”

Lisa emerged from the kitchen and handed Emily and Gavin their drinks.

Gavin popped the top off the bottle, leaned over, and placed a luscious kiss on Emily’s lips as he slid the cap into her palm. Leaving Emily breathless, he returned his attention to Phil. A simpering smile broke out across Gavin’s face as he continued. “What’s your source of information? Reader’s Digest? Newsday? Perhaps a woman’s magazine?” Before he let Phil answer his barrage of questions, Gavin leaned back over to Emily and whispered, “I owed you a bottle cap since the last few times I drank, I forgot to give you one. I’m sorry.”

Cupping his cheek, she stared into his eyes. “I love you. And I love your bottle caps more than you’ll ever know.”

Gavin quirked a brow. “Yeah? Even though I have a fuckload of money, you love my bottle caps? Should my caps be more… refined?”

“No,” she said breathlessly. “They’re perfect.”

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his eyes searching her face. “Phil and his semi-bald head might disagree.”

“Phil’s an asshole, and you’re perfect,” she whispered back, lacing her hands around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. Uncaring that everyone seated at the table was most definitely watching them, Emily indulged in his lips for a few more seconds before pulling away.

Staring into her eyes, Gavin mouthed the word “Inhaling” before once again shooting his glare back to Phil. “Sorry about that. I find it hard to control myself where Emily’s concerned. I’m sure you understand. Oh wait. You couldn’t. She’s the one who got away.” Gavin threw him a wink and picked up his fork. “Back to what I was saying. Your source of information on such an outlandish assumption would be… what?”

Phil shifted and cleared his throat. “No source of information. I guess it was just an assumption.”

Lisa’s eyes went wide, clearly confused by the conversation that’d taken place while getting their drinks.

Smiling at her sister, Emily shook her head, trying to stifle a bout of laughter threatening to erupt from her belly.

“That’s what I figured,” Gavin said, bringing his unrefined bottle of Budweiser to his lips. “So, what do you do for a living, Phil?”

Phil adjusted his tie, the uncomfortable set in his body palpable. “I own a real estate development company.”

Seated to Emily’s right at the head of the table, Michael swung his head in Emily’s direction, his voice low. “Phil’s a moron. Always has been and always will be. But I deal with him because I love your sister.” Emily nodded, admiring the way Michael always put Lisa’s feelings before his. “Gavin’s one badass motherfucker. I like him.”

With a light smile, Emily glanced at Gavin, who appeared to be paying attention to Phil detail how he started his company, but she knew the conversation was boring him. She swept her gaze back to Michael. “Yeah, he is. Thank you. I’m happy you approve.”

“How can I not?” Michael gave her arm a little nudge. “Besides the fact Lisa told me he dug into Dillon for what he did to you, you’re glowing, and I respect him for making you happy. I wish you two the best of luck.”

“Thank you, Michael.” Emily leaned over and popped a kiss on his cheek. “I appreciate that.”

“No problem.”

As everyone ate, whether it was because Gavin had set him straight or because he simply didn’t try again, Emily enjoyed not having to listen to Phil act like an ass. The tension that’d started the evening disappeared, bleeding away into laughter. With Christmas music spurring through the air and good home-cooked food in their bellies, they all conversed easily. After clearing the table and bidding Phil an eager goodbye, Emily helped Lisa put the kitchen back in order as Gavin and Michael chatted it out about who would win tomorrow’s basketball game. Staying faithful to his New York roots and showing Michael his wiseass side, Gavin egged him on, saying that the New York Knicks were going to wipe the floor with the Lakers.

Needless to say, the two men agreed to disagree.

Feeling a yawn lurking, Emily decided to grab a hot shower before turning in for the night. She popped a kiss on top of Gavin’s head, left the two men to themselves, and laughed to herself when she heard Gavin mention something about his beloved Yankees beating her Birds. She dragged her luggage into the guest room, closed the door, and shook her head, sure he would never let her live that one down. As she hauled her suitcase onto the bed, she wondered how many times he would harass her over the course of the upcoming baseball season. She was positive it would be too many times to count. She just hoped her Birds would make a sweet comeback, making her harassment even sweeter.

After indulging in a long, hot shower, she towel dried her hair and slipped into soft cotton shorts and a tank top. When she emerged from the bathroom, not only did she find Gavin’s clothing strewed out across the bed, she also found the door to the balcony wide open. A breeze curled through the room, causing a shiver to prickle up Emily’s spine. Though it was Southern California, the evenings usually brought cooler temperatures. Pulling a chenille blanket from the queen-sized bed, she wrapped it around her body and made her way onto the balcony.

Sitting in an Adirondack chair, his bare feet perched on the iron railing, wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, Gavin sipped on a beer as he watched the waves tumbling in the distance. Another shiver, one that didn’t have to do with the colder air, moved through Emily when Gavin turned. He caught her gaze, his blue eyes beckoning her in an instant. Longing lit up in the hard angles of his face.

Odd. She was no longer chilly.

After placing his beer on the ground, the glass clinking on the concrete, Gavin dropped his legs from the railing. Widening his knees, his smile was slow and deliciously sexy. Emily stepped between his thighs and crawled into his lap. She rested her back against his hard chest, curled the blanket over their bodies, her senses immediately drowning in the raw heat emanating from him.