“He might not have. You’d better ask him before you get excited about living in such a cool place.”
Only she wouldn’t be living there, but Sabrina kept that to herself. Luckily, they’d arrived at the bistro and getting inside ended the conversation.
The other women had already arrived. Bride-to-be Erica glowed with happiness. Sabrina delivered her gift, kissed Erica’s cheek and then scanned the others gathered in the private dining room. She recognized Melissa, Gavin’s sister, and Samantha, who had married Gavin’s oldest brother Blake just days before Gavin and Sabrina had met. The rest of the dozen or so women were new faces. She pasted on a smile and tried to work up the appropriate amount of enthusiasm.
A waitress passed with an order of buffalo wings. The sour smell reached Sabrina. Her stomach roiled. Surprised, she mashed her lips together. Normally, she loved the tangy hot wings, but apparently not now. Her mouth filled with saliva and a cold sweat beaded her brow and upper lip.
Avery touched her arm. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”
Sabrina held up a finger. “Excuse me.”
She spotted a sign marked restroom and darted toward it. She slammed through the door and into the cool tiled room. Before she reached the stall the nausea faded. Bracing her arm against the wall, she took several deep breaths. Wow. She’d never been sick like that with her first pregnancy. She turned on the sink, dampened a paper towel and blotted her face, noting that the amethyst cashmere sweater dress she’d chosen for today accentuated her pallor and the circles beneath her eyes. Lovely. Not.
The door opened behind her and Avery entered. “I hate to keep asking, but are you sure you’re okay, because you don’t look like you feel well.”
“I—” Sabrina didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t told Gavin her news, and it didn’t seem right to share it with anyone else until she had. “Don’t worry. I’m not contagious.”
“Ohmigod. You’re pregnant,” Avery exclaimed wide-eyed.
Sabrina didn’t want to lie, and yet how else could she explain her odd behavior. “I’m pretty sure I am. But please don’t tell anyone. Gavin doesn’t know yet. I did the test right before you arrived.”
“That would explain the shell-shocked look on your face when you opened the door. It’s none of my business, but are you happy about this?”
Warmth seeped though Sabrina chasing away her chill. She laid a hand over her tummy. “Yes. I’d love to have Gavin’s baby. But I’m not sure how he’s going to take the news. It’s so soon and we didn’t plan this. We haven’t even discussed having children.”
Yet another conversation they should have had before rushing into marriage. Luckily, Avery didn’t point that out. Sabrina brushed a stray curl from her face. “I’m thinking about waiting a bit before I tell him…you know, feeling him out about the situation and figuring out how best to approach him.”
“Sabrina, if you’re already pregnant it’s too late to test the waters on his thoughts about children. Besides, if what happened out there happens again you won’t be able to hide your news anyway.”
“No. I guess not. But…”
“Let me tell you something I’ve figured out. Gavin—like all the Jarrod men—is tough on the outside because he had to be with his father, but all the guys also have warm hearts. It shows in the way they care about each other and kept in touch even when they were scattered about the globe and in the way they dropped everything and rushed here for each other when Donald’s will required it. Trust me on this. I should know since I’m engaged to Gavin’s big brother.” Avery gave a sympathetic smile.
“I guess you’re right. I’ll tell Gavin tonight.”
And she prayed he’d be as happy as she was.
“Hey.” Blake’s shout jerked Gavin back to the present.“What?” Gavin scanned the area and spotted a backhoe heading toward him. He moved out of the way without a second to spare.
Blake approached. “Didn’t you see the tractor coming?”
Gavin shook his head. “My mind was elsewhere.”
“On the Auckland job?”
“No. I—” He cut off the words rather than admit he’d been thinking about Sabrina, how flushed and satisfied she’d looked this morning when he’d climbed from their bed.
Blake grinned. “Thinking about your pretty new wife? Welcome to the club, man. Go home and get you some. I have it covered here.”
“I don’t need to leave. I’m fine.”
“Cut yourself some slack. You didn’t even take a honeymoon. Spend a little time with your woman.”
Tempted more than he should be, Gavin checked his watch. It was almost quitting time anyway. He’d go because if he stayed his distraction was going to get someone hurt—probably him. Heavy equipment on-site meant everyone’s head had to be one hundred percent in the game one hundred percent of the time. Today, his wasn’t.
But he wasn’t leaving because he needed to see Sabrina.
Who are you kidding?
Disgusted by what he considered a weakness, he waved good-bye to Blake and stomped across the mud and slush-covered ground toward the pickup. What had Sabrina done to him? How had she managed to shatter his concentration when his ability to focus anywhere and under any conditions had previously been one of his best assets?
He shoved the key into the ignition and glanced at the folder labeled New Zealand on the passenger seat. Blake had asked about the project. Before meeting Sabrina, Gavin had considered the bridge the most exciting opportunity of his career. But the sad fact was he hadn’t been able to work up any enthusiasm for the job since he’d met Sabrina. He carried the file around intending to delve into it, but he’d only opened it a couple of times when Sabrina had been tied up at the inn, and then he’d been listening so intently for her key in the lodge’s front door he’d had trouble concentrating on the geology reports.
“It’s just the sex,” he muttered under his breath. “Damned good sex.”
Yeah, right, his conscience jibed. And that mine is just a hole in the ground.
The dashboard clock read four o’clock. At this time of day Sabrina would still be at the inn. He tromped on the gas, earning a warning glare from the Jarrod Ridge security man working the gate blocking access to the construction site. Within minutes he reached the inn’s lot, pulled in and parked beside two other cars—probably tourists getting a head start on sightseeing before the crowds swept into town next week.
Using his key, he let himself in the back door. The smell of cinnamon hung in the air telling him she’d recently made a batch of her famous oatmeal cookies. “Sabrina?”
“In the office,” she called back.
He made his way down the short hall. She sat behind the old wooden desk with her hair twisted up, baring her neck and that spot near her nape that she liked for him to nibble. Seeing her hit him with a pulse-accelerating punch of desire to the gut. “Where’s Henry?”
“Out with the judge.”
“And your guests?”
“Visiting art galleries.”
He pushed the door closed and turned the lock. Her eyes widened. “It’s early. Why aren’t you at the construction site?”
“Blake has everything under control.” He circled the desk, grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. He studied her from her face to her br**sts outlined to mouthwatering perfection by the purple sweater and then down. He liked the surprise. “You’re wearing a skirt.”
“I attended Erica’s bridal shower today.”
He skimmed a hand over her hip and then beneath the hem and back up her thigh. She wasn’t wearing pantyhose. But she was wearing panties. Too bad, but not for long.
She gasped as he tugged the cotton down her thighs. “Gavin, we need to talk.”
Why did women always want to talk when they communicated so much better on a more basic level? The panties fell to her ankles. “In a minute. First, I need this.”
He hooked a hand around her nape, pulled her forward and kissed her, covering her soft lips, stroking them with his tongue and lapping up her unique flavor. “Mmm. You’ve been eating chocolate mints again.”
Ever since the night he’d painted her n**ples with chocolate she’d had a craving for the things.
“Just one.” Her breath caught when he cupped her breast and found her tight nipple, then a moan slipped free. Her br**sts were so sensitive a man couldn’t help playing with them. But he wouldn’t taste them today—not with the threat of Henry or the guests interrupting him.
He lifted her skirt, finding her curls already wet and her slick little nub swollen and waiting for his attention.
“Gavin, please.” Her breathless voice egged him on.
“I will, baby. I will please you. I know exactly what you like.” He caressed her until she trembled in his arms, then turned her, planting her hands on the desk’s surface. He buried his face in her neck and her perfume filled his nose as he opened his mouth over the warm, satiny flesh beneath her ear. She bowed her back, pushing her bottom into his groin. Hunger surged through him, making his erection pulse in her warm crevice.
He quickened his finger, listening to the telltale sign of her panting breaths. When he thought she was close to the edge he ripped open his pants and shoved the fabric out of the way. Then when her muscle tension told him she was on the verge, he rolled on a condom and eased into her, filling her and sending her over the edge.
She felt so damned good. Slick. Hot. Wet. He gritted his teeth to keep from losing control right then as her muscles contracted around him with the rhythm of her orgasm. Once she settled, he stroked her again, this time using his penis as well as his hand to push her toward the next peak. He teased her as well as himself, alternating fast and slow strokes. Her body drew tight and he backed off once, then repeated the process a second time, making her wait for release. When he couldn’t stand the pressure building in his gut any longer he caressed her past the point of no return and quit fighting.
Climax exploded through him in hot brain-numbing bursts leaving his legs weak and shaking in the aftermath. He had to brace his arms on either side of hers to remain upright. His chest burned as he struggled to fill his lungs.
How could it be that good every time? How long would it take before his craving for her waned?
Sabrina squirmed free long before his legs regained stability. She hastily righted her clothing, and ducked to scoop up her panties. “That was—”
“Fantastic.” He dropped the condom in the trash can beneath her desk and refastened his pants.
“I was going to say unexpected.” When she met his gaze again, the pink drained from her cheeks. Worry clouded her eyes. “Gavin, I have something to tell you.”
Her tight tone indicated whatever it was couldn’t be good. “Is Henry okay?”
“Yes, he’s fine.” She chewed her bottom lip and shifted on her feet. Her fingers tightened and relaxed on the panties in her hand. “I’m pregnant.”