Ginger's Heart (A Modern Fairytale, #3)(128)

She looked over her shoulder to find him gone, then moved slowly, in a semidaze, to the desk chair. Plopping down, she leaned back as tears filled her eyes and a laugh born of unexpected happiness started deep in her belly and rumbled up through her throat, to her lips, filling the room with a sound of disbelief and joy.

He loved her.

Cain Holden Wolfram, whom she’d loved every day of her life since she was eleven years old, finally loved her back.

“He loves me,” she whispered. She giggled, stomping her feet on the carpet under the desk, and then said it louder, “He loves me!”

“Yes, he does!” he barked from the showroom. “Now do some damn work, or I’m comin’ in there, and this time we’re not unlockin’ the door until tomorrow mornin’!”

Her face flamed red, but she grinned, whispering, “Yep. He loves me” one more time for good measure and just to hear the words aloud.

Her body still quaked and trembled deep, deep inside, where he’d set off a chain reaction after owning her with his fingers and his tongue, where he’d loved her until she’d screamed his name. And a dreamy smile was plastered on her face for the remainder of the day. Well, for most of the day.

It was the third week since Wolfram’s Motorcycles had opened, and clearly the word was out that a superhot young motorcycle mechanic was in town because every local female with a car, and several with bicycles and scooters, had stopped in with a “problem.” At present, she had four women waiting to see her boss.

Flirtatiously: “Can Cain take a look at my gears?”

Conspiratorially: “Is Mr. Wolfram as hot as they say?”

Insecurely: “So is he single, or does he have a girlfriend?”

Queen Bee: “I heard Mr. Wolfram is here today. Tell him I need to see him. Now.”

That last one made Ginger roll her eyes, but she’d asked the strawberry-blonde bombshell in the ridiculously short miniskirt to take a seat as she went looking for Cain, and found him in the supply room behind the showroom, looking for a ball bearing.

“Cain?”

He turned to face her, his beautiful face lighting up. “Please make my day and tell me you want a quickie in the supply closet?”

“You want our first time to be in a dingy supply closet?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips and arching one eyebrow.

He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. “I want our first time to be three years ago, but I f*cked that up so . . .”

“So a supply closet will do?” She hooked her thumb to the left. “What? Up against the spare tires?”

He made a face and huffed softly, letting her go. “Well, if you came here to torture me, go on back to the office. I’m goin’ crazy as it is.”

“Poor baby,” she said, dropping her voice and keeping it kitten soft and smooth. She reached for his face and caressed his jaw.

“Gin,” he groaned. “Don’t tease me. My heart can’t take it, and my cock’s about to break off.”

He looked so pitiful and adorable, she leaned up and licked his lips, meeting his tongue with hers as they opened. His arms came around her again, holding her fiercely as he dropped whatever was in his hand, and the soft ping of metal hitting the floor competed with their sighs and moans. When she was dizzy and breathless, she broke away, leaning her head on his shoulder, marveling at the way her body responded to his as she’d never been able to respond to his cousin’s. She was primed and ready for him. Waiting was painful, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted her first time with Cain to be special.

“Come home with me later,” he said, sliding his lips down her neck, pursing them over her skin, his tongue darting out to lick tiny circles that made her shiver. “Stay over tonight.”

“I wish I could,” she half whispered, half moaned. “But I have an early shift tomorrow, and Gran’s not doin’ well. She’s havin’ some tests. I want to be there for her.”

“I’ll come up tomorrow and stay with you.”

“I have to concentrate on her for a day or two, Cain, and you are way too distractin’,” she said, smiling into his eyes with all the old and new love filling her heart. “But I’ll be back here on Friday. I promise. And . . .”

“And?” He stopped, pausing his tender ministrations, his lips hovering over her skin and his hot breath making her shiver.

“I don’t have to work this Sunday.” She swallowed. “I’m free this weekend.”

“Okay,” he said, leaning away from her, his wide eyes black and blue. “But pack a bag and stay with me till Monday morning. All weekend, Gin. I want you all weekend long.”

She saw it in his eyes, what he meant, what it would mean for her to stay with him all weekend. Their bodies fused together as every last barrier between them finally came down forever. That’s how they’d be, and that’s what she wanted too . . . all weekend long.

She shivered in anticipation, then nodded. As she turned to leave, she remembered why she’d come looking for him in the first place.

“By the way, there’s a horde of women in the office. They all want to see you.”

“Legit business?”

Nope. Ginger shrugged.

“Okay,” he said. He looked down at his crotch, which looked bulging and strained. “Give me a couple of minutes to think about baseball, huh?”