His hands found her waist. “I don’t think I can help that.”
His face was lit with such humor she giggled.
“No, just close your eyes and let me do this.” She kept working with her fingers.
He shut his eyes and sighed. “Oh, Meredith. You’re killing me.”
“No. No dying,” she scolded gently. “Just living.”
“Just living,” he echoed, nodding slightly in her hands.
She took a slow, full breath. “You asked me a question a minute ago.”
“I did?” His brows lifted, but his lids stayed closed.
“You did.” She was speaking softly now, the intimacy of being so close to him working its spell on her too. She loved touching him. She loved watching him unravel under her caress. She loved that he let her give this to him without putting up a fight or making her lose control with his own touch.
“You asked me what I meant… about our differences.”
Gray opened his eyes, and she knew it was so he could read her face. “Close your eyes. It’s easier to explain when you aren’t looking at me.”
He obeyed with another sigh, and she felt his fingers at her waist grip her just a little tighter. “Okay.”
“I think there’s a part of me that’s trying to talk one of us out of… whatever this is.”
Despite his agreement, he looked up at her. “Now, why would you want to do that?” His expression was completely neutral, but since his eyes weren’t smiling, she knew that it was costing him. Her hands stilled.
“Because I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of how I feel.”
His smile returned. “I’m afraid of a lot of things, but how I feel about you isn’t one of them.”
Meredith swallowed. When she couldn’t open her mouth to speak, Gray brought a hand up to her hair and smoothed a stray lock behind her ear.
“I’m afraid of never getting the chance to know you like I want to,” he said, his voice pitching low. “And I can promise you, sweetness, two weeks isn’t enough time for that.”
Her breath hitched. On instinct, she bent down and pressed a kiss to his lips. She drew back to see his broad smile.
“Not nearly long enough.” His smile was now full of mischief, but she rewarded him anyway, giving him the same tiny kiss.
“Really, I cannot stress how insufficient two weeks is—”
She threw her head back and laughed, and he joined her. Laughing with Gray was the best ever.
He rubbed his thumb across her cheek. “So if you’re trying to talk yourself out of giving me a chance to do that with whatever amount of time we have,” he said, cocking a brow at her, “I’m asking you to quit it. But if you’re trying to talk me out of it, it won’t change a thing.”
Gray Blakewood knew exactly what to say to make her feel better. How did he do that?
She moved a hand up to his cheek to match the touch he gave her, and the look he gave her — the look of barely contained desire — caused a rippling inside of her. One that chased a path all the way down her body.
“You’re pretty wonderful,” she said easily.
His smile teased. “Really? Hmm.” He looked at her askance, as though he were contemplating. “See, now I don’t know if I should tell you about dessert or see if you’ll let me take you to second base while I’ve got you in this position.”
“Oh my God, are you twelve?!” she shouted, pushing herself off his lap. “Dessert. Give me the damn dessert!”