Marquita Valentine - Not Over You

She fisted her hands by her side. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll marry you.”

Her jaw and her body nearly dropped to the floor in shock. Then she remembered her threat. “So nice of you to be concerned about all those couples—”

“Stop it.” He shook his head. “I’ve known you for too long not to know when you’re bluffing. And that, sweetheart, was one of your biggest bluffs.”

“I-I…uh…well, I’m glad you’ve agreed to marry me. Hopefully, Elise won’t be too broken up about it.” She wanted to bang her head against the counter after she said that. Way to rub a little salt into the wound.

His eyes narrowed. “Elise won’t be broken up about it at all.”

“That’s good,” she whispered, growing more uneasy by the minute.

“But I have some conditions of my own, since I’m being so agreeable and giving up Elise.”

“That seems fair.”

“You’re darn right it does.”

Summer waited. This time, her fingers uncurled and fisted the material of her dress instead. Gabriel’s gaze dropped, and she could have sworn his expression softened.

“There won’t be a marriage in name only, and there won’t be a divorce. It’s either all or nothing.” He started ticking off a list, marking each item with a finger. “I want to date you, then get engaged, then having a wedding, a honeymoon—you did call dibs on that, after all—and then we’ll come right back to Holland Springs. You’ll move in with me, work here, or wherever else you’d like, or stay at home. Doesn’t matter—I can provide for you either way.”

“But…”

He gave her a look. “But what?”

“There’s always a ‘but’. You have to want…something else from me,” she said, her heart sinking and her legs shaking.

“Oh I do, but that has to be given—willingly.” He gently grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him. Cupping the side of her face with his free hand, he dipped his head. “I plan to be the man you’ve always wanted, your every fantasy, and every desire. I plan on meeting every need a wild child like you could have. And by God, I hope it’s a lot, because I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”

Before Summer could melt into a puddle on the floor, his mouth came over hers. Hard. Demanding. She kissed him back just as hard, just as demanding. Years of pent-up need, and want, and desire for him twined, growing stronger with each passing second.

Her butt hit the counter, and his hard chest bumped into hers. She gasped, and his tongue plunged inside her mouth.

Good God, he could kiss, was her last thought, and then all she could do was feel, and touch, and taste. Take and give. Whimper, and moan, and dig her nails into his skin.

All too soon, he pulled away, his breath coming in pants.

“Do you plan on kissing me like that very often?” she asked.

He grinned, slow, cocky, and just this side of wicked. Her eyes couldn’t help but widen. Her pulse couldn’t help mimic the speed of hummingbird wings. Her angel had never looked at her like that. Ever.

“I plan on kissing you like that, every day, for the rest of my life,” he said.

Normally, this would be the time she’d say something sarcastic, but normally, he didn’t kiss her. Normally, she didn’t feel so alive.

“Oh,” was all she could manage. Her voice was breathless. When had she ever been breathless around a man? Oh yeah, not even two minutes ago when he was kissing the daylights out of her. She placed her hand on his chest to steady herself, but all it did was throw her off balance once more.

“Summer,” Gabriel murmured, and she had to look up at him. “I’d like to take you out tonight.”

Gabriel had heard the line about drowning in someone’s eyes before. He had even thought it was pure junk science, but as Summer gazed up at him, all wide-eyed with desire and confusion, he could picture himself falling into those chocolate depths.

Under his hand, her fingers curled. “What time should I be ready?”

“How about six?” How did his voice remain so calm when, inside he was utterly devastated by her—in a completely excellent way. He had kissed her and she’d kissed him back. She hadn’t pushed him away or critiqued his technique. In fact, she looked as turned on as he felt. His entire body vibrated, pulled tight, and ready for release. For relief.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He could stay strong. He could also rethink the timeframe he’d given himself to date Summer before “officially” asking her to marry him. Honestly, he didn’t know if he could wait a day, much less a month.

But what was thirty days compared to twenty-nine years?

She nodded, licking her bottom lip. She was the difference. Summer’s lips, her hand on his chest…her body against his…that’s what made thirty more days seem like thirty million years.

“Pick me up here.”

He’d rather pick her up at her place, but he’d go along with her wishes. “We’ll grab a bite to eat, and then catch a movie, or go to Poor Boy’s so you can dance.”

Desire faded from her eyes. “Sure you want to take me there?”

He’d forgotten about the last time they been in Poor Boy’s. She’d flirted, he’d snapped, and neither had spoken to the other for two months. Not until he’d driven past her on Highway 13.

“Need a ride?” he asked, his truck keeping pace with her strides.

She tilted her nose in the air, hiked up her purse on her shoulder, and walked faster. “Does it look like it?” Then she stopped suddenly, bent over, and retched.

He put the truck in park, hopped out, and was by her side in an instant. Gathering her hair back, he held it while she finished. “I have some water in the truck—haven’t even twisted the cap off.”

“Isn’t that convenient?” She grimaced, and then breathed through her mouth. “Always showing up at just the right time, like my own true knight in shining armor.” Once again, she was pushing him away.

He let her hair fall, looking around at the fields that had been turned over for an early spring planting. “I’m no one’s knight,” he said and moved back to his truck. He reached inside the open window, grabbing the bottle of water and a couple of loose napkins. “I’m giving you a ride into town as an apology.”

“Fine.” Her spine straightened as if steel had been poured, and then cooled inside of it. “I need to go see Dr. Reed.”

He placed his palm over her forehead, a gesture his mother made whenever he or his brother and sisters were sick. Her skin was clammy, not feverish. A fine sheen of sweat glistened along her cheeks. “What’s wrong, Summer?”

There was the barest hint of tears surrounded by anguish before she blinked, clearing everything away. “I’m pregnant.”

The bottle of water fell to the asphalt, but it was his body that felt the impact.

Gabriel gave himself a mental shake, and then smiled at Summer. “It’s all in the past, and I’m ready for the future.”

“A date,” Summer said to her reflection.

“Yes, a date,” Jemma Leigh said, walking up behind her and placing her hands on Summer’s shoulders. “All you need is some lipstick, and you’ll be ready to go.”

Summer smiled faintly, accepting the tube from the woman who seemed to be bound and determined to be her friend, whether she liked it or not.

“Gabriel’s gonna die when he sees you.”

Summer made a little noise. “Gabriel will probably order me to change.”

“If by change, you mean put on some sexy lingerie, then I have some you can borrow, too,” Jemma Leigh said with a conspiratorial smile. “That man won’t know what hit him.”

“You know Gabriel Edwards as good as I do, and we both know that will never happen.”

Jemma Leigh pursed her lips. “You have to stop thinking that way about yourself.”

Easy enough for someone like Jemma Leigh to say. “I’m stating the truth.”

“Then why did you bother inviting me over?”

Summer leveled her with a look. “The devil made me do it.”

“I’ve never been called that before,” Jemma Leigh said wryly.

Earlier in the afternoon, Jemma Leigh had caught Summer in another weak moment, and invited her to coffee again. Over caramel lattes, Summer had blurted the news. Okay, so if she was honest, she hadn’t blurted it. She had wanted Jemma Leigh to know, and not just because she would spread the news around town, but because Summer was nervous. With a capital OH DEAR GOD, WHAT HAD SHE AGREED TO?

And that’s how she ended up with Jemma Leigh helping her get ready at Carolina Dreams. Rose’s office had served as a dressing room, while Jemma Leigh had served as makeup artist and stylist by rushing home and back again with clothes, makeup, and anything else she could find. The room looked like a department store had exploded inside of it.

Summer plucked at a bead on her shirt. It was hot pink (naturally), with tiny, silver-colored beads along the sides. The sleeves were short and capped, and the white miniskirt with more pink and silver beads made her feel like she was bedazzled to the max. Matching silver and pink earrings dangled from her ears.

Overall, she looked nothing like herself and everything like the woman standing behind her, but Summer didn’t have the heart to tell her so. Mostly because she didn’t have a heart in the first place.

However, the makeup Jemma Leigh had applied was another story. Summer had never been able to pull off really dark or bright colors, at least not in her opinion, so she felt like a clown, even if she didn’t remotely resemble one.