“Very,” he mumbles against my lips.
I press my lips together, tasting the salt on them.
“Sorry, I’m sweaty.”
“Don’t be.” I smile and kiss him again, and he moans softly.
I drop back down onto my heels. “Hungry?”
“You have no idea,” he says suggestively.
“Good.” I hop up on the table behind me and begin pulling our lunch out of the deli bag. “Let’s eat.”
He narrows his eyes at me.
“Seriously, I’m really hungry.”
He laughs and sits on the table across from me. He reaches for a wrap and says, “You know, you’re supposed to sit at the table, not on top of it.”
I rub my hand over the smooth tabletop. “I thought I’d test out your craftsmanship.”
“Don’t worry,” he says confidently, “I make ‘em sturdy.” His deep voice is laced with insinuation.
“Good to know,” I say over my mouthful as I chew. I smile and touch the long, wide planks of knotted wood that are matched seamlessly together. The stain around the edges is dark, but it fades to a lighter color in the middle, like the bottom half has been buried beneath the earth for twenty years.
“This is really incredible. I can’t believe you made this.”
He smiles and takes a bite of his wrap. “Thanks, it took me forever to get the stain right. I’m doing this new unearthed collection.”
“That’s exactly what I thought. It looks like it was pulled right out of the ground.”
He rubs his hand over the edge of the table, eyeing his work thoughtfully. “That’s what I was going for.”
“I really love it.”
We sit across from each other on top of the table, eating our lunch and glancing up at each other every few seconds. Gabe pops a few grapes into his mouth and I do the same. I hold one to my lips, letting them close around it to make an O-shape, before sucking it into my mouth. Gabe’s eyes and nostrils flare, so I decide to have a little more fun. I lick my fingers, keeping my eyes on him the whole time.
Seconds later, he’s kissing me and pushing me down on the table.
“Gabe!” I laugh and squirm beneath him.
Roxy starts to dance around the table and bark.
“Lay down, Rox,” Gabe says to her, pointing across the garage, and she does as she’s told. He kisses my neck and holds my hands over my head against the table so I can’t move, not that I would if I could. He drops his head to my stomach and works my shirt up over my breasts, growling against them when he sees that I’m not wearing a bra. “Je te veux.” I want you. My back bows beneath him and his mouth moves down to my thighs. He pushes my skirt up and says, “Jesus, Liv,” when he sees that I’m not wearing any panties either.
“Didn’t want to risk it,” I say, panting down at him.
His mouth immediately covers me and his tongue moves over the most sensitive spot between my legs. I groan and rock my hips up reflexively. I drop my head back against the table and press my fingertips to the smooth surface of the wood, thinking of how he created this beautiful, one of a kind masterpiece as a fire scorches through me. He pushes me further and further until I’m on the brink of what I know is going to be an earth-shattering orgasm. I gasp and let out a soft moan that goes on... and on... and on. “Gabe,” I cry when I can’t take it anymore.
He looks up at me with parted, glistening lips. His eyes are like warm honey and his cheeks are flushed with desire.
“I want you,” I say, needing to feel him inside me. He wipes his mouth and crawls over me, and I lean up and kiss his chest. It’s salty, a sign of the effort he put into the new masterpiece he was working on today. I kiss him again, tasting the salt on his neck.
He unbuttons his jeans and settles over me, leaving my shirt pushed up over my breasts and my skirt gathered around my waist. He positions himself between my legs and sinks into me with his jeans still hanging off his hips, and we make love on top of the beautiful table, hidden behind all of his other works of art.
* * *
“You cannot sell this to my dad,” I say, hopping down off the table that now holds two of my orgasms in its grain.
Gabe presses his lips together and looks down at the table, conflicted. I’m sure that it would make him a lot of money. He knocks his knuckles against the wood. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I could let this one go now.” He smiles. “It’s turning out to be my favorite piece.”
I smile and wind my hands in his hair. “Mine too.”
He looks around at the scattered pieces of wood and piles of sawdust on the floor. “I just need a few hours to finish up in here. Will you come over later?”
“Yes.” I nod my head once and reach for his hand.
“I love you, sunshine.”
I exhale a shallow breath. “Is this real? Are we really...together again?”
He takes my face in his hands and looks into my eyes, into my soul, and says, “Yeah, baby, we’re really together again.”
I’m at once wrapped in warmth and shrouded in fear. It seems too easy. I don’t want to think about how or when the other shoe will drop, but the last time I was this happy, that’s exactly what happened.
I let Gabe get back to work and head home, thinking about this. Obsessing about it, actually. By the time I get home, I’m racked with anxiety. I sit in my car in my parents’ driveway with my head against the steering wheel. I should get out and go inside, but I’m paralyzed with fear that something is going to happen, that somehow, I’m going to lose Gabe again.
I’m startled by a knock on my car window. “Liv, what are you doing in there?” my dad asks.
I sit up. “Um, nothing. I was just getting out,” I say through the glass.
He points to the passenger door and walks around the car. I unlock it and he gets in.
“Liv, honey, what’s going on? You and Gabe okay?” he asks, getting straight to the point. When I don’t answer, he gives me a concerned look. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. Everything is...perfect.”
My dad sits silently waiting for me to elaborate.
“It’s too easy! Something’s going to happen. I know it. The last time I was this happy, my entire world crumbled down around me. And all I can do now is sit around and wait for it to happen again.”
He nods thoughtfully, trying to think of the right thing to say. “Liv, honey, I know why you feel this way, but you’re allowed to be happy. You deserve it. God wants you to be happy.”
“God?” I laugh cynically and roll my eyes.
My father shakes his head and says, “No ma’am. We raised you better than that. You aren’t gonna play the Blame God card. If me and your momma could get right with Him, then so can you.”
“Get right with Him? Daddy, what kind of God would take Brandon away from us and then rip me and Gabe apart?”
“The same one who brought you back together,” he says firmly. “You and Gabe have been given a second chance. A chance to make things right. Don’t waste it worrying about all the things that could go wrong, but probably never will.”
I sigh. “I know. You’re right.”
“Can I get that in writing?” He squeezes my hand and smiles.