to take off his shirt. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He stared down at her, panting like he’d run a marathon. His eyes, she saw, were glazed with heated lust to such a degree it made her heart pound. “About to make love to you, Layla.” He then whipped his shirt over his head.
Seeing him bare chested caused goose bumps to ripple all over her skin. She scrambled farther away from him. “No you’re not!”
He stared at her. “Can you look at me and say you don’t want me to make love to you?”
She nervously licked her bottom lip and looked away. Yes, she could say it but she couldn’t look at him while doing so. Mainly because she did want him to make love to her. There was no doubt in her mind that the sheets on the bed were calling their names.
“Layla. Look at me.”
No, she wouldn’t look at him. Nor would she tell him anything. Scrambling off the bed, she stood and began straightening her clothes before quickly walking out of the bedroom. “I’m showing you the door, Gavin,” she called over her shoulder.
Once she reached the door, she waited. It took him a few minutes to follow her. He probably needed time to put his shirt back on and get his lusty mind under control.
When she saw him walking toward her he had an unreadable expression on his face. She drew in a deep breath. What thoughts were going through his mind? Did he think she was nothing more than a tease because she’d stoked his fire and then doused it with water? She would admit to having gotten caught up in the moment like he had. However, although he was ready to take things to the next level, she was not.
When he got closer, she saw the way he stared at her and figured he was angry to the point that he would walk out the door without saying anything to her.
She figured wrong. When Gavin stopped before opening the door, he turned dark, livid eyes on her. He then said in a furious voice, “The next time we kiss, Layla, will be when we make love. It’s going to be a package deal.”
He then opened the door and left.
Late afternoon the next day, Gavin walked out on the porch with a steaming cup of coffee. He couldn’t believe he’d jogged around the ranch house twenty times last night. That would be equivalent to ten miles. When was the last time he’d done that?
On top of his workout last night, he’d gotten up at the crack of dawn to ride the range with Caldwell and his men. Sharing breakfast with them over an open fire had brought back memories. Most of the men who worked for Gavin had worked for his dad and had known Gavin when he’d been a kid. Although they called him boss, he knew they did it out of respect and not because he was involved in the day-to-day operations. Caldwell took care of the place. No matter how long Gavin was away from the ranch, he rested easy at night knowing the Silver Spurs was in good hands. Gavin also knew that whenever he returned Caldwell had no problem relinquishing that leadership role to him.
He took another sip of coffee as he eased down to sit on the steps. The cold weather was settling in. It was hard to believe Thanksgiving was next month. He’d gotten word that morning from his commanding officer that the team would be headed out again in late January. At least his teammates with families would get to spend the holidays with them. Gavin wondered if his grandmother would hang around the ranch this year. Because he was rarely home during the holidays, Gramma Mel usually flew to Saint Louis to spend time with her sister and her family.
“How did things go today with Caldwell and the men?”
Gavin glanced over his shoulder at the sound of his grandmother’s voice. “Good, but that’s no surprise. They know how to keep things going in my absence. And I covered just about everything with Phil yesterday. We talked again today and the books look good.” The only thing he hadn’t done that he’d wanted to do today was take another ride out to the dig site.
“When do you expect Mr. Clete back in town?” he asked.
“By the middle of next week,” she said, taking a seat in the porch swing.
“Good.” Although Gavin felt certain Clete was the one who’d moved the marker, he wanted to be absolutely sure. However, for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine anyone else coming onto the property and tampering with Layla’s markers. What purpose would it serve?
Flip’s camera had picked up something underground, both in her marked spot as well as another spot close by. Like he’d told her, it was probably nothing more than bullet shells or branding irons. One section did have a relatively higher reading than others but he’d figured out a reason for that, as well. Buried Native American artifacts. Gavin’s grandfather had claimed this had been Native American land generations ago. If Layla’s research was as thorough as she claimed, she would already know that.
“I had a salad earlier, but if you’re hungry I can fix dinner.”
“No need. I plan to go into town in a few and I’ll grab something at the café.”
No way he would tell his grandmother that in addition to dinner he intended to make a booty call. Word was out that he was home and a ton of women had left voice mails. On the drive into town, he would decide which woman would be the recipient of his visit. Not having Layla was getting to him. He needed to get laid and then he could be more rational about her, take his time seducing her without losing his cool.
“Looks like you aren’t the only one going into town, Gavin. Now, doesn’t she look extra pretty?”
He followed his grandmother’s gaze. Layla was crossing the yard and walking toward them. He had seen her in dresses before, but this was one with a skirt that was shorter in the front and longer in the back. Instead of boots she wore high heels and she had a knitted shawl around her shoulders.
Her hair was styled the way he liked best, flowing around her shoulders. And he could tell she was wearing makeup—not much...except for the ruby-red lip color. He frowned, refusing to let her get next to him the way she had last night. He’d been stupid enough to think their evening would end differently. Namely, in bed together.
“Good evening, Ms. Melody. Gavin.”
He did the gentlemanly thing and stood. He couldn’t help noticing she’d given his grandmother a huge smile. But the one she’d given him was forced. Not that it bothered him one iota.
“Layla,” he said, letting his gaze roam all over her.
His grandmother moved forward and gave her a hug. “Now, don’t you look pretty. Have big plans for the evening?”
Layla shrugged her shoulders, keeping her focus on Ms. Melody and ignoring Gavin. “Not that big. The equipment arrives tomorrow and my team the day after. Then it’s all work and no play. I decided to spend my last day of freedom doing something I enjoy doing but rarely have time for—going to a movie.”
“By yourself?” Gramma Mel asked.
Layla chuckled. “Yes, by myself.”
“What are you going to see?”
“That new romantic comedy with Julia Roberts.”
“Now,
