Intercepted (Page 41)

“Sounds amazing!” I’m not huge on surprises, but I think I can get over it if the outcome is alone time with Gavin.

“Oh, and also, I love you.” The words come out quietly, but I don’t need him to yell it. The power, the sincerity, is enough to knock me over. “I know this is fast, and I don’t expect you to say it back. But I know, without a doubt, what I’m feeling for you is love. I’ve had girlfriends before and I’ve never felt an ounce of what I feel for you.”

My stupid mouth, that never closes, chooses this moment to forget how to work.

I stare at him, mouth open, eyes wide for who knows how long. If it was any other man, I’m sure their ego would’ve been demolished by now. But it’s not any other man, it’s Gavin. And instead of insecurity or anger at my reaction, he’s staring at me almost laughing.

“It couldn’t have been that big of a shock. I’m with you every chance I get, and if I’m not next to you, I’m on the phone. I’m smitten, Marlee. Those articles may have been right in calling you a seductress.” He winks at me, effectively getting my mouth to function again.

“I’m not a seductress,” I tell him without any fight in my voice. “I’m just in love with an amazing man.”

When I’m finished speaking, the only noise in the room is our elevated breathing. Neither of us make a move to say something else or to touch each other. Instead, we stare at each other, taking in this moment. Both of us knowing after tonight, our relationship will never be the same. Knowing this isn’t a casual fling for either of us, emotions . . . hearts . . . are on the line.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” Gavin breaks the silence. “I’m going to kiss you, and then I’m going to make love to the woman I love. The woman who loves me back.”

“That was so much better than calling me a sexy rhino,” I say and watch his dimple appear.

“Lay back, Marlee. I told you I love you, now I’m going to show you.”

He’s standing in front of me, every perfect, chiseled inch of him on display. His erection standing large and proud, as if it too is declaring it’s love for me. He’s giving himself to me in a way I’ve never experienced. Unselfishly. Without wanting anything in return except to let him love me.

So angry mob and pitchforks be damned. The outside world is no longer so much as a memory in my head. Because Gavin Pope loves me and I love him right back.

I do as he says.

The second my head hits the pillow, Gavin’s body is covering me. His mouth hits mine and lacks the usual gentle touch. These kisses are frenzied, demanding. The power of his need is being poured out through his lips.

The angry mob and the dancing GIFs all fade to black, and I’m left alone with their football god, who spends the rest of the night worshipping me.

Twenty-nine

HERS is packed when I walk in the next afternoon.

We usually have a decent lunchtime crowd, but nothing like this.

New Year’s just passed, maybe it’s women spending time together at the end of the holiday season? Either way, I don’t care. I’m in love, and I’ve already had two orgasms this morning. Nothing is messing up my good vibes.

I’m making my way toward the employee room when I spot Brynn across the dining room. She’s smiling and talking with a customer, her hands flying all over the place, the expressions on her face changing with every word. I stop outside of the door, waiting for her to head my way when she’s finished taking the order. She sticks her notepad in the pocket of her apron and turns toward me. Except when she does, she doesn’t smile and yell a greeting across the room like she normally does. Instead, she stops in her tracks and her eyes grow to the size of quarters before she sprints toward me, just missing other waiters and diners as she does.

When she reaches me, she opens the closed door and pushes me inside so hard, I almost fall on my ass.

“What the hell?” I ask once I catch my balance.

“I had to warn you!” she shouts into my face as if I’m not only a foot in front of her.

“Warn me about what? That you’re really a Powerpuff Girl?”

“Did you see the crowd? I think they’re here because of you.”

“Really? You think the new promotions we put out brought them in?” I ask, despite Brynn’s mild freak-out.

“No! I mean, you know I love your promotions, but the majority of the people out there asked if you worked here the second they walked in. I think they’re all here because of the stuff with Gavin.”

Okay.

So something can mess with my good vibes.

#PleaseDontKillMyVibe

“Please tell me you’re messing with me to get back at me for the time I poured you vodka instead of water.” I fold my fingers together and bring them to my chin.

“I wish I was.” She reaches for my hands and wraps hers around them. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure most of them are just lookie-loos and want to get a gander at Gavin Pope’s girlfriend, but I’d understand if you wanted to head home.”

“You’re sweet, but no,” I tell her with steel in my voice. “They can say whatever they want on the internet, but here? In my job? They have another thing coming if they think I’m going to run and hide.”

“You’re a rock star. Let me know if anyone gives you a hard time though. I told my dad what was going on, and he offered to come in and sit at the bar like your own personal bodyguard.” Mr. Sterling, as nice as he is, would be a terrible bodyguard. He’s all of five foot seven and one hundred and sixty pounds. My smile must hint at where my mind was heading because before I can respond, Brynn starts talking again. “Oh. And he said he’d bring your dad too.”

Oh.

Shit.

My dad has a heart of gold and is as sweet as sugar . . . until you mess with his little girl. Then? #DaddyDontPlay

Like one time, this boy in third grade, Derek Fuller, decided I was going to be his next target. It started with the occasional tug on my pigtail and then grew to pinching. Then he started with the words. And I know they say words don’t hurt. But you know what? Screw them. Words hurt the worst. He would tell me how my hair was ugly and that I was fat. What a little asshole, right? Who calls someone fat in third grade? He would chase me around the playground yelling how stupid I was and how nobody liked me. Then, one day, he called me a half-breed and told me my dad shouldn’t be allowed to marry my mom. I went home that night in absolute tears. I mean, I won’t say I was color-blind—I loathe that term—but when I saw the different colors in my family, I felt nothing but lucky. And Derek tarnished that.

When I told my dad what happened? Shit. Hit. The. Fan.

Not only was he in school with me the next day, setting up a meeting with teachers and the principal and Derek’s parents, he called out of work for a week and sat at the back of my class, watching and making sure Derek didn’t so much as look my way. Some kids might’ve been embarrassed to have their dad at school, but not me. I loved every single second he was there. I loved the way Derek’s smug grin turned to pure fear when he walked into class the next day about to shout more poison at me.

And even though I’m a grown woman, I have no doubt in my mind that my Dad will call out of work and sit at the bar waiting to unleash on the first person who looks at me wrong.

“Oh no! Did Mr. Sterling call him?” I pull the door open, looking around for the giant black man completely out of place at a restaurant cluttered with Housewives pictures.