disposal as air fresheners.”
He grinned at that, the quirky little lift of his lips that showed off his dimples. “I suppose you’re right. Oscar never wanted . . .”
The grin faded. His hand tightened on the glass he then brought to his mouth and halfway drained. The pain he lived with . . . At least her brother wasn’t trapped in his body, confined to bed, fed through tubes, unaware. She reached over and took hold of Oliver’s free hand, laced their fingers together, and squeezed.
After a moment he squeezed back, and then they stood there, unspeaking, listening to the music and the chatter and the laughter swirling through the room behind them. She wasn’t sure what to think, sharing this intimacy, even a fairly simple one, with a man like Oliver Gatlin. Especially with the moment that had just passed between them not being simple at all.
Strange that of all things they were both dealing with brothers. Not that her problems held a candle to his, but it was nice to be able to offer him a shoulder. Doing so left her feeling not quite so sorry for herself. She needed that. A lot. Especially now, after Will’s strange behavior that had her—unironically—ignoring his admonition and regretting how they’d left things.
God, she was tired.
“It’s late,” she finally said when it became clear Oliver was done talking, and freed her hand from his. “I should get going.”
“Let me drive you home.”
She shook her head. “You’re very sweet, but I’ve got my things in my car. I’m staying over at Kaylie’s and—”
“Then let me drive you there. We’ll get your things, and Ten can bring you back for your car in the morning.”
“If you’re sure,” she finally said, and when he nodded, she realized she wasn’t ready for her time with him to end.
They said their good-byes separately, though she couldn’t imagine their leaving at the same time wasn’t obvious to everyone— not just to her brother, who scowled, or to Kaylie and Luna, who both grinned like fools. Indiana thought back to the advice her two friends had given her to see what the days ahead would bring from her admirers. Admirers. Ha. Was that what Will and Oliver were?
She did feel rather like the heroine in a Jane Austen novel, caught between two heroes equal parts brooding and enigmatic and handsome . . .
Less than fifteen minutes later, Oliver pulled to a stop in Kaylie’s driveway behind her red Jeep. The house was dark, save for a light in the third-floor turret, though no doubt Magoo was waiting in the kitchen to see who had arrived.
“Do you have a dog?” Indiana asked, because she wasn’t ready to go in.
“Actually, I do. She was, or is, my mother’s dog, but she seems to prefer my company.”
Funny. “What’s her name? Your dog?”
“Susan,” he said, and Indiana started to laugh, only to have Oliver lean close and stop her.
His kiss was nothing like Will’s, and that was the only thought she spared for the man who’d kissed her first. Oliver swept her away until she forgot where they were, why they were here, everything but his mouth pressed softly to hers, coaxing and gentle and so very insistent. Yet his urging never had her feeling uneasy at all.
What she felt was cherished, treasured, and hungry for more than the front seat of his car allowed. Which meant it was a very good thing she hadn’t invited him in for a nightcap. O, that way madness lies . And madness she did not need; her life had known plenty.
But something told her this rush of fluttering wings tickling her skin was a different sort of insanity. One she didn’t want to miss when it might never come again. And so she pulled him closer, and breathed him in, stunned by the desire rising so fiercely between them.
This was a complication, this physical attraction to a man she’d already determined was out of her league. But he was here, and he wanted her. He wanted her . And his want was so controlled she couldn’t stand it. She
He grinned at that, the quirky little lift of his lips that showed off his dimples. “I suppose you’re right. Oscar never wanted . . .”
The grin faded. His hand tightened on the glass he then brought to his mouth and halfway drained. The pain he lived with . . . At least her brother wasn’t trapped in his body, confined to bed, fed through tubes, unaware. She reached over and took hold of Oliver’s free hand, laced their fingers together, and squeezed.
After a moment he squeezed back, and then they stood there, unspeaking, listening to the music and the chatter and the laughter swirling through the room behind them. She wasn’t sure what to think, sharing this intimacy, even a fairly simple one, with a man like Oliver Gatlin. Especially with the moment that had just passed between them not being simple at all.
Strange that of all things they were both dealing with brothers. Not that her problems held a candle to his, but it was nice to be able to offer him a shoulder. Doing so left her feeling not quite so sorry for herself. She needed that. A lot. Especially now, after Will’s strange behavior that had her—unironically—ignoring his admonition and regretting how they’d left things.
God, she was tired.
“It’s late,” she finally said when it became clear Oliver was done talking, and freed her hand from his. “I should get going.”
“Let me drive you home.”
She shook her head. “You’re very sweet, but I’ve got my things in my car. I’m staying over at Kaylie’s and—”
“Then let me drive you there. We’ll get your things, and Ten can bring you back for your car in the morning.”
“If you’re sure,” she finally said, and when he nodded, she realized she wasn’t ready for her time with him to end.
They said their good-byes separately, though she couldn’t imagine their leaving at the same time wasn’t obvious to everyone— not just to her brother, who scowled, or to Kaylie and Luna, who both grinned like fools. Indiana thought back to the advice her two friends had given her to see what the days ahead would bring from her admirers. Admirers. Ha. Was that what Will and Oliver were?
She did feel rather like the heroine in a Jane Austen novel, caught between two heroes equal parts brooding and enigmatic and handsome . . .
Less than fifteen minutes later, Oliver pulled to a stop in Kaylie’s driveway behind her red Jeep. The house was dark, save for a light in the third-floor turret, though no doubt Magoo was waiting in the kitchen to see who had arrived.
“Do you have a dog?” Indiana asked, because she wasn’t ready to go in.
“Actually, I do. She was, or is, my mother’s dog, but she seems to prefer my company.”
Funny. “What’s her name? Your dog?”
“Susan,” he said, and Indiana started to laugh, only to have Oliver lean close and stop her.
His kiss was nothing like Will’s, and that was the only thought she spared for the man who’d kissed her first. Oliver swept her away until she forgot where they were, why they were here, everything but his mouth pressed softly to hers, coaxing and gentle and so very insistent. Yet his urging never had her feeling uneasy at all.
What she felt was cherished, treasured, and hungry for more than the front seat of his car allowed. Which meant it was a very good thing she hadn’t invited him in for a nightcap. O, that way madness lies . And madness she did not need; her life had known plenty.
But something told her this rush of fluttering wings tickling her skin was a different sort of insanity. One she didn’t want to miss when it might never come again. And so she pulled him closer, and breathed him in, stunned by the desire rising so fiercely between them.
This was a complication, this physical attraction to a man she’d already determined was out of her league. But he was here, and he wanted her. He wanted her . And his want was so controlled she couldn’t stand it. She
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