Derailed

Chapter Fifteen

Gavin picked me up right from work. In the end, that had seemed like the best option. I had to work until eight anyway, and I didn't want to have to worry about getting my car home. I changed into a deep purple halter dress, leaving my other clothes at Marney's. I didn't want to think about how my clothes being at Gavin's house could be construed.

I had just locked up when Gavin pulled up out front.

He parked, walking to meet me even though most people would have just waited in the driver's seat. "You look gorgeous." He didn't conceal his assessment, and I tried to hide my discomfort. It was as if Gavin had turned things up. Gestures that I could have written off as friendly at one point seemed like too much—like his hand on the small of my back as I took the few steps to his passenger seat.

"Thanks." I buckled my seatbelt, careful to keep my focus on the scenery out the window rather than on him.

I watched the passing houses as we arrived in his neighborhood. He lived in one of the newer, townhouse-style units they'd put in along the waterfront.

He parked out front. "This is me."

"Cool." I hopped down.

He came around my side just as I reached the ground. "I could have helped you with that."

"I managed just fine."

"You shouldn't ever just manage. Do you have problems letting someone take care of you?"

"No, I just don't need help getting out of a car."

He laughed deep in his chest. "Even a big one?"

"I'm not that short."

"No, but your dress is..."

I shook my head. My dress was no shorter than what anyone else would be wearing.

He went around back, opening the hatch to pull out a case of beer. I noticed several other cases underneath, as well as bottles of various liquors.

"Wow, think you got enough?" I grabbed a case myself, waiting for him to lead the way in. I was pleased when I saw the look of consternation cross his face when he noticed what I was carrying. Luckily, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He did shake his head before climbing up a set of stairs and unlocking the front door, shifting the weight of the beer against his chest so he could turn the key.

I followed him inside, glad to relieve my arms of the beer when we reached his kitchen counter. He lived in a loft, something I never expected to see in Clayton Falls. "Nice place."

"You like?" He watched my reaction carefully.

I took in the high ceilings, exposed brick and piping, and the huge windows overlooking the water. My first thought was how could he afford all of it on his salary? Real estate was cheap in town, but not at all cheap on the water. I decided to keep that particular thought to myself. Maybe he'd made the money playing baseball.

"It's nice. Very modern." I also edited out the part about never wanting to live in a loft. I'd given Adam the unedited version. He'd wanted a loft apartment while I craved the character and coziness of an older home—we used to joke we'd end up in a 1980s cookie-cutter suburban place just to find a happy medium.

"All right. I'm going to get some more from the car. Here are some bins, and there are bags of ice in the freezer. Want to start on that?"

"Sure, not a problem." I was glad to have an assignment to pull my thoughts away from Adam.

By the time we finished setting up the drinks and snacks, it was almost time for everyone to arrive. I tried to discretely slide the cards onto the counter.