Something about the look in her gaze and the way she’d leaned forward slightly in her chair and the earnestness in her voice. Those emotions all spoke of something even more than passion.
They spoke of desperation.
And maybe, Gavin considered, he’d been a bit too focused on himself to think about what really happened on New Year’s Day. He’d let his pride keep him from thinking that she’d left for any reason other than she had no interest in seeing him again. How humbling, then, to realize he’d not only missed the mark, but had lost three months out of sheer, stubborn idiocy.
As if realizing she’d stalled out their conversation, Sera finally spoke. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“This need to believe in other people. Do you give yourself the same credit?”
“Well, of course.”
“Then why did you leave on New Year’s? The real reason, not the potential for it to get awkward.”
He wasn’t sure why he was pressing it, but somehow, Gavin knew that he needed the truth. He needed to know. And he needed to hear her reasons, instead of living with the ones he’d made up in his mind. Perhaps he wouldn’t like them, but at least they’d be the truth instead of something he’d managed to manufacture out of his own battered pride or bruised ego.
“It was a one-night stand.” Although she didn’t put nearly as much heat behind that argument as the day before, Gavin still sensed that reason was a lifeline she was hanging on to by the edges of her fingernails.
“It was.”
“Most people prefer those have no strings attached.”
“I’m not talking about most people. I’m talking about us. About our night together. About the connection we had that put us together in the first place.”
Because whatever else he wanted to think or believe, he couldn’t shake that sense of connection.
Of belonging.
It wasn’t a sensation he was familiar with beyond his work with the Harbor team, and it had stuck with him for all these long months. Upended him, really, because for the first time in his life he’d felt attraction and desire in lockstep with the innate sense that he fit with another person.
And he’d reveled in that sensation of belonging in those hours with Sera. Of being understood.
Of fitting.
Maybe it was why her attempts at being casual—dismissive even—had him finding an odd sort of humor in their situation.
Sera blew out a breath that fluttered the hair that framed her face. “You do realize there are about a million articles in women’s magazines saying not to have feelings for your one-night stand. And about ten times that of cautionary tales told on social media sites, talking about what a bad idea it is to bring emotion into casual sex.”
“And there we have it.”
When she only looked at him, he realized that she’d inadvertently given him the opening he needed.
“You’re assuming what was between us was casual. Or scratching an itch.”
“Scratching an itch?” A small bark of laughter escaped her. “How eloquent.”
“Giving in to desire, then?”
“What does it matter?”
“It all matters, Sera. I was attracted to you, yes. And there was a hell of a lot of desire.” He reached out and laid a hand over hers, willing her to understand what was so damned hard to put into words. “But nothing between us was casual. Nothing at all.”
She sat there, her gaze focused on their hands for several long moments. Whatever progress he’d believed they had made seemed to fade, wisping away like smoke.
Until she turned her hand beneath his, their fingertips meeting the other’s palm.
“It wasn’t casual.” She stared up at him then, those irises as blue as a spring day meeting his. “But we don’t know each other. A single day, even a non-casual one, doesn’t negate the fact that we don’t know each other.”
“So we get to know each other. Day by day.”
“Fate seems to think that’s a good idea. Between the baby and the task force, we’ve got a lot of together time in front of us.”
“Then let’s take it.”
She nodded and didn’t remove her hand from where it linked to his.
Gavin gave himself a few more moments to revel in the simplicity of that connection before his day came rushing back to him. “Lest you think I’m just the neighborhood stud you can ogle, I did come here with information we might be able to use for our task force project.”
“The neighborhood stud?” She snatched her hand back, the slight shake of her head proof she already knew him well enough to get the joke. “Smooth, Hayes.”
“I am that, but tell me you’re not intrigued all the same.”
The raw intimacy that had arced between them since the kiss began to fade as they both shifted toward work. Whether by design or simply to find some ease after several tense moments, he wasn’t sure, but the shift was welcome.
“Oh, I’m intrigued. So tell me more about how we’re going to create the best plan of all the task force teams.” She picked up her shawarma and took another bite, her renewed interest in dinner a good sign they were back on level ground.
“My team and I had a big day up at Hell Gate.”
“You find a school of feral goldfish?”
