Can't Help Falling In Love (The Sullivans #3)(22)

“I was never able to sit still when I was a kid. And I used to like playing with matches a little too much. Fire always fascinated me.”

“Your mother must have loved that,” she said in a tone that indicated just the opposite.

He acknowledged, “Not so much.”

“I guess the fascination with fire makes sense,” she said slowly, as if considering it for the first time. “Otherwise you might not be so willing to run straight into one rather than away from it like the rest of us.”

Did she know that he was fascinated with her, too? That even when he knew he should be turning away from her, he wanted to move closer?

“You have a great family, but I have to say, some of you must have been a handful. My hat’s off to your mother. And,” she said with a slight question to her words, “your father?”

“He passed away when I was five. She raised us alone.”

His father’s death was another reason he’d chosen his career. Also trained as a paramedic, many of the calls he went on were medical. He couldn’t save everyone’s father or mother or child, but he wanted to know, at least, that he’d done everything he could.

Megan’s eyes grew big. “Eight children alone?” She put a hand over her heart in a clear gesture of sympathy for his mother. “Half the time Summer feels like too much for me to deal with by myself.”

“You’re a great mother.”

She smiled at that. “Thank you. Although I’m not sure you’d say the same thing if you could see me yelling at her about homework or clothes on the floor or spending too much time on the phone with her friends.”

He shouldn’t want to see those things, shouldn’t want to get any closer to Megan or her daughter. But the longer he sat with her, talking about family, the more that wanting grew.

Quickly downing the rest of his coffee, he got up and put his empty cup on the coffee table. He noticed the window off the kitchen was open a crack and a cold breeze was coming in.

“Do you want this open?”

“No, it’s jammed,” she replied, coming back into the kitchen with her own still half-full cup of coffee. “The landlord said he’d try to stop by this week to see if he can fix it.”

Not wanting her to have to deal with being cold and paying for heat that just seeped outside, Gabe put his hand on it and pushed. Nothing happened. “Do you have a small screwdriver?”

She pulled one out of a well-organized drawer. “Here.”

It didn’t take him long to fix the problem. “A little glue or paint was stuck in under the metal.” As he handed her back the screwdriver, he said, “Your old place must have had a great view.”

“That’s why I bought that apartment. I knew it was an old building, but I figured the view was worth it.” Her green eyes shadowed. “I never thought about how safe it would or wouldn’t be in a fire, though.”

“Isn’t having a view still at the top of the want list for your new place? Along with a backyard for a fire pit?”

“Views aren’t worth quite as much as I thought they were,” she replied in a soft voice. “And I’m not sure that a fire pit is such a great idea, either.”

For all Megan’s outward resilience, the way she’d clearly moved past losing her husband so young, how capably she’d recovered from her home going up in flames, Gabe could suddenly see her vulnerability.

Along with the fears she was trying so hard to hide.

As if she suddenly realized she was letting him look too deep, she said, “Well, thanks for fixing the window. And for the ride.”

He got the hint. It was time to go.

She was right. He needed to leave before he kissed her again.

She moved to the front door just ahead of him. Opening it, she stood there as he walked out, so close. Too close.

He should have just kept going down the hall and out to his car without looking back or saying anything more, but in the same way that being in her apartment, putting Summer to bed, and staying for coffee had felt so right, leaving felt just as wrong.

“Tell Summer I had a good time playing flashlight tag with her.”

He was standing close enough to smell her perfume, something soft and floral that made him want to bury his nose in the curve of her neck until he figured out exactly what kind of flower it was.

“Okay.”

The one word was slightly breathless and from the way her eyes were focused on his mouth, he knew she was just as close to that edge of wanting as he was.

Just one kiss. That’s all he wanted.

Needed.

Gabe had almost convinced himself it wouldn’t hurt anything, that he could stop at one more, when she abruptly lifted her gaze and took a step back on a sharply indrawn breath.

“Just friends.” She shook her head. “I like you a lot, Gabe, and that kiss in the kitchen...” Another shake of her head. “Well, we’ve got to forget that kiss. Because we’ve both agreed that’s how things need to stay. Even if it’s not easy, we’ve got to keep things totally platonic.”

When she was done laying out the reminders, she put her fingers over her mouth as if to keep herself from jumping across the threshold between them and kissing him. The problem was, all the good sense in the world couldn’t negate the magnetic pull between them.