He was more in sitting still and idling mode because he certainly wasn’t driving back to town. Instead, he was remembering the first time he’d kissed Rosalie. Recalling in nth details all the fooling around they’d done. It’d been a damn hard challenge not to take her virginity when she’d offered it up to him. But even then, he hadn’t been an idiot and had known something like that would come with big-assed strings attached. Besides, he wasn’t the love-’em-and-leave-’em type.
He shook his head to clear it and reached to put the truck into gear. Just as Rosalie reached for him. Without taking her eyes off him, she slid her hand around the back of his neck. She didn’t move in, didn’t make it a kiss.
But Gabriel did.
He blew every vow he’d just made about keeping his hands and mouth off Rosalie, and he kissed her.
CHAPTER THREE
WHILEROSALIESTOODat her kitchen window and drank her iced tea, she considered glancing down at her feet to make sure they were on the floor. She was certain they were, but she’d had this amazing floating feeling since Gabriel had kissed her in his truck the day before.
Of course, she would have experienced much more than just the giddy floating if he’d pressed things and invited her back to his place, but he hadn’t. He’d kissed her, stopped and cursed—in that order. Then he’d continued to mutter more profanity, all aimed at himself, as he’d driven back not to his place but into town. He hadn’t mentioned the kiss, or anything else, for that matter. He’d just driven as if his only mission was to get back to work.
And away from her.
Once they’d reached the police station, where she had left her car in the parking lot, Gabriel had done more muttering, this time to tell her he’d keep her updated about Hamish, and then he’d disappeared inside the building.
Rosalie very much wanted that update on his great-uncle. Wanted another kiss or two as well, but now that she’d had some time and distance from Gabriel, she knew he’d made the right decision to stop the mistake-kiss before it could turn into something bigger. Neither one of them was willing to trust their hearts to each other again.
She frowned.
And realized that was a pile of malarkey.
Her body was seriously on board with the whole heart-risk thing, and her mind was quickly starting to agree. Old water,old bridge. Old heat, new heat. The scalding attraction she’d felt for Gabriel was definitely still there. It was nudging and pushing her in his direction, but she forced herself to play out this particular scenario.
If Gabriel and she picked up where they’d left off fifteen years ago, it would lead to sex. No doubts about that. Then more sex. Again, she had no doubts as to that outcome. She was equally certain that the sex would be amazing and leave her with the best feet-off-the-ground feeling ever.
But then what?
She kept rolling that question around in her head and considered the possibility that things would fizzle out between them. After all, they couldn’t just have sex 24/7. Eventually, they’d have to deal with the same obstacles they’d dealt with when they’d been eighteen.
Except those obstacles had changed.
She’d already failed to live up to her parents’ expectations and was perfectly okay with that, whether or not they ever would be. Gabriel might be okay with their proverbial stink eye, too, since he was thirty-three and was probably no longer as concerned about such things.
One obstacle, though, might be that he was possibly involved with someone else, but after some thought, Rosalie was able to dismiss that, too. If he had been in a relationship, word of it would have already gotten out, and his great-aunt wouldn’t have given them that look. A look that was a seal of approval, a green light to leave and go fool around.
So, no real obstacles.
Well, other than Gabriel still seemed unhappy with her over their breakup. He hadn’t been so unhappy, though, that it’d stopped him from kissing her, and that was something she wouldn’t forget.
But maybe Gabriel could.
After all, he’d been the one who’d walked away and left Last Ride. He might not be able to do that now with his job, but there was more than one way to put an end to things.
She heard the vehicle pull into her driveway, and Rosalie automatically scowled. It was probably someone stopping by to ask her what was going on with the search for Hamish or another flower bouquet delivery from Reggie.
Neither of which she wanted.
The visitors and calls about Hamish had scaled back considerably since the news had broken the day before. So had Reggie’s flowers. He was only sending one bouquet every other day now. Deliveries that she refused each time, but that hadn’t stopped him from continuing to send them.
Rosalie set her glass of iced tea on the counter and headed to the front of the house. Not that she had far to go since her place wasn’t that big. It took her only eleven steps to get from the kitchen to the door.
She was prepared to tell the delivery driver to return the flowers to Reggie or explain to whichever nosy neighbor that she had no news to share. But when she threw open the door, it wasn’t someone from Petal Pushers, the local florist, or someone on the hunt for fresh gossip. It was the feet-floating creator himself.
Gabriel.
He was wearing another of those great-fitting shirts, a blue one this time, and he had on his cop’s face. It was just as attention-getting as his regular expression. Then again, everything about Gabriel got her attention.