“Killing you would be telling you that I can’t wait to run my fingers through that thick mass of golden brown hair. I want to run my fingers over all your tight muscles and feel your skin under my hands. I want to feel your heart beat against my palm.”
“Stop. I’m driving, for God’s sake.”
“It’s very frustrating to be afraid to touch you because I might scratch you with plaster. Fingertips are okay, but I’ll bet there’s nothing like having my hands on you. I want that. I want that very much, Blake. I want you.”
“Do you know how hard it is to drive in my condition?” He tried to stretch out his legs to accommodate his aching erection pressed up the length of his fly. “You know I won’t be able to think in a minute, because there’s no blood left in my brain.” Her laugh made him smile. “I’ll get you for this when I get home.”
The laughing stopped, and she went dead silent. Alarms went off immediately. The static on the phone got worse the last few miles, along with the rain. He listened, wondering if she’d hung up on him.
He talked fast, hoping to salvage this conversation. “Gillian? Gillian, I’m kidding. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It was a joke. I swear. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”
He didn’t know how they’d gone from playful to silence in a split second. Stupid idiot. Her father probably issued threats all the time. He could just imagine that he’d do it with little malice in his voice, and then spring on her when she least expected it. Her father had been the kind of man who’d smile and then hit her. Even Justin had talked about the way their father’s smile sent a chill up his spine.
Gillian had given Blake the wrong idea. She loved it that they were able to fool around on the phone and make them both want each other. It felt so normal, when her life had been anything but. Then her mind flashed on Ken telling her she’d better keep her mouth shut, or he’d make her sorry.
“Blake, I’m sorry. It wasn’t you. I was just . . . it was only . . .” She took a deep breath to calm the foreboding feeling vibrating through her system. “I’ve had a really hard week, compounded by your absence. I want you here, Blake.”
She should tell him what happened with Ken. Not over the phone though. He’d only be mad and frustrated he wasn’t here. What could he do? She’d already taken care of Ken. She’d done what she had to do, what she needed to do for her own peace of mind.
“I’m on my way home to you. I’d be there already if it wasn’t for this damn storm following me.”
He didn’t know how good that sounded to her. “I’m impatient to see you. I’m sorry I made you think you’d said something wrong.”
Ever intuitive when it came to her, he asked, “Why have you been avoiding the stables? You’ve only spent a limited amount of time with Boots.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. Dee told me that you’ve been acting strange. Jeff and a couple of the other guys said you only spend as much time as necessary to feed and work Boots. You’ve only taken Justin riding twice in the last week, when normally you go every day.”
She ignored most of what he said. “I’m taking him riding again right now.”
Done with subtlety, he asked her a direct question. “Is Ken giving you a hard time? Is that what this is about?”
“I handled it.” She thought about the wrench in her back pocket. He’d think twice about cornering her again. She’d carry the wrench with her all the time. Just in case. You’d think that thought would tip her off to how much of a threat she found Ken, but she passed it off as nothing more than her past intruding on her present yet again.
“Which means he’s giving you a hard time and you don’t want to tell me about it.”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Like you’d tell me if it was.” His temper tinged his deceptively calm words. “You know, Gillian, you don’t always have to take care of everything yourself. Ken is an asshole who probably deserves a good ass kicking. He’s a cocky SOB who thinks he’s God’s gift to women and horse training.”
She heard his frustration loud and clear, despite the increasing static on the line. Thunder rumbled in the background. She prayed he’d be okay on the road.
Afraid they’d lose the connection soon, she tried to reassure him. “Blake, I’m fine.”
“I know you well enough to know that when you say you’re fine, you’re really not.”