Dirty Little Promise (Forbidden Desires #2)

Emma

I was having the sexiest dream about Gavin. One that was just getting to the good part when my phone chirped and I reached for the bedside table, not bothering to open my eyes as I fumbled for the phone.

It was daylight, but only just barely. Either way, it was too early for this, especially on the weekend. Gavin turned beside me and mumbled something I couldn’t understand as I thumbed the glass screen and glanced at my messages.

“Crap,” I muttered, flopping back onto the bed with a groan as the last of my sexy dream evaporated in the harsh light of day.

“What? What’s wrong?” Gavin sat up in bed and eyed me, his brows pinched with concern. He’d had so much on his plate lately, and the last few days it had really seem to hit him. He looked exhausted. And it hardly seemed like the right time to dump this on him, but damn it, it wasn’t going to go away, either.

“Nothing, nothing. Go back to sleep,” I said, but my stomach clenched as I tried to think of how to broach the subject.

“Talk to me. Is it work stuff?”

I sighed, tucking the sheets around me as I sat up alongside him, fluffing my pillow behind me. “You remember how I told you my mom came into the city for a day trip after the . . . after the accident?”

Gavin nodded.

“Well, now she’s claiming that she had such a good time on her visit that she already wants to see me again. And this time, she’s bringing my dad.” I rolled my eyes.

“So?” He shrugged. “That’s not so bad, right? You told me you get along well with your parents.”

“I do, it’s just . . .” I blew out another long sigh and squeezed my eyes closed.

“There’s something else,” Gavin said.

I nodded, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “They want to meet you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh.”

I studied his face, and while he seemed slightly taken aback, he hadn’t gotten up to run in the other direction. Yet.

I’d talked to my mother only once since she’d visited my place and had flipped out over my bruised ribs. I had to set her straight so she knew Gavin wasn’t responsible for the marks on my body. I told her everything—that we’d called the police, that Gavin had hired a private investigator and insisted on hiring me a driver so I wouldn’t take the bus anymore. When I was done, she’d softened, saying she was happy about that. But we hadn’t really talked more about my relationship with him, or about the man himself. And I had a feeling today she was going to grill us both.

“I can make up an excuse if you don’t want to go. Really, it’s not a big deal,” I rushed to assure him. “They sprang this on me and—”

“When do they want to meet me?” he asked, tucking his arm behind his head in a motion that made his biceps bulge in the most delicious way.

“Uh . . . today,” I said, forcing that stubborn dream out of my mind again and focusing back on his face. “For lunch, actually.”

“Shit. What time is it?”

“Ten.” I groaned. “So, we’d have to start getting ready, like, now.”

He reached for his phone on the other bedside table as he morphed into all-business, take-control Gavin. “That’s okay. I’ll call the Plaza and see if we can get a table—”

“No, no, no.” I waved my hands frantically. “Nothing fancy. My parents aren’t fancy people, and they’re going to want to pay.”

Gavin frowned. “But that’s ridiculous. I can cover it.”

“I know you can cover it, and they probably do too. That’s not the point. Look, it’ll hurt my dad’s pride if you pay. Let’s just go to some touristy chain restaurant. That should be fine.”

As if any of it would be fine. My mother had made her feelings perfectly clear. I could only hope this invite was exactly what it seemed to be. An olive branch, her way of telling me she was willing to get to know Gavin before she passed judgment. God, I hoped so.

I gnawed at my thumbnail as I wondered if she’d told my dad what Gavin did for a living. He studied me for a long moment before a slow smile spread over his face.

“What?” I demanded.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous. I’m just . . .” I couldn’t find the words. “I just want this to go well. You’re, you know, important to me. I want my parents to see that.”

“You’re important to me too, Emma.”

I sensed there was more he wanted to say, holding my gaze with his and smiling down at me. But then the moment passed.

“So, is there anything I should know then, to make this easier for you?” Gavin asked.

I thought hard. “My dad likes the Steelers, but he’s never been to Pittsburgh or any part of Pennsylvania.”

Gavin laughed.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“And whatever you do, don’t encourage my mother to tell stories about me as a kid. She loves to embarrass me, and she has no qualms about telling you anything.”

“Noted.” He nodded. “But that only serves as an enticement, to be honest.”

I yanked the pillow from behind my head and covered my face with it. “I thought you wanted to make this easy on me.”

“Easy, but not a breeze.” He chuckled, tugging the pillow away and pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Besides, I want to hear stories about you when you were little. You were probably adorable.”

“Trust me, you don’t,” I warned. “And I wasn’t. I was a pain in the ass. Sort of like how you’re being right now.”

Gavin held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, no prying questions. Got it. What else?”

He was grinning now, and I kept going because this was the first time in days that the worry line between his eyes had smoothed. If my misery was what it took to make him this carefree, I was willing to take the bullet.

“What else? Oh!” I snapped my fingers. “Don’t order a bottle of wine for the table. My mother will drink the entire thing by herself, regardless of the time of day or type of wine.”

“Don’t worry so much, baby.” He got up from the bed, letting the sheets fall away from him to reveal his naked form.

Even after so long, I couldn’t help that my breath caught at the sight at him. I found myself staring at his stiff morning wood, wondering exactly how much time we had to kill before meeting my parents.

“Want to continue this conversation in the shower?” He raised his eyebrows, then crossed the bed toward me and pulled away the covers. Gently, he tweaked one of my nipples and bent to nip at my bottom lip. “I get awful lonely in there by myself.”

In the space of an instant, I found myself completely at his mercy. Worries forgotten, I took his hand and allowed him to lead me into the next room and then into the spray of the warm water.

The euphoria of our time together was short-lived, though. By the time we got out of the shower, I found another text blinking on my phone—instructions to meet my parents at a family-style Italian chain they frequented at home that served unlimited salad and breadsticks.

I typed a quick reply and spun around to face Gavin. “What do I do? I wore the last of the clothes I had here last night. Do we stop at my place? We have to be at the restaurant in—”

“Breathe, baby. Calm down.” He laid a steadying hand on my shoulder. “I’ll steam your dress and get the wrinkles out. You didn’t wear it for very long.” He winked.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because . . .” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “What if they can tell we had sex when I was wearing it?”

“You forgot to mention they were superheroes.” Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

“Don’t get cute.”

“Can’t help it. But, seriously, the only people who will know are you and me. Promise.”

Still unsure, I remembered my work clothes that I still had in my overnight bag. I gave those to Gavin to steam instead, while I applied what little makeup I had rolling around in the bottom of my purse.