"If I never take this leap of faith
I'll never know
So I'm learning to fall with no safety net
To cushion the blow."
Natasha Bedingfield, I Bruise Easily
As soon as the sliding doors closed and the elevator moved, Brock glanced at Gillian. She looked up at him and her eyes slid down his face and further, as surprised thoughts bounced in her head. Was this really happening? Was she really leaving with him to have dinner, the two of them alone? Were they about to spend the night together? Was this the beginning of something between them? That last question felt just too much. She'd better paddle away from such deep waters and focus on the moment. She knew he observed her, controlling his curiosity, so she nodded at his chest and smiled.
"Dark red tie," she said, almost too low for him to understand.
Brock knew the next couple of hours would be critical-maybe the next couple of months... or years? So he only nodded.
She scoffed at his cautious answer. He was well aware of how close panic was from choking her and putting her on the run. He didn't want to give her any excuse to give in to it. That alone was enough to love him. Her hand came up and the back of her fingers slid down his tie.
"You were wearing it that noon at Boloco, when I asked you for help with the Johnson case."
Brock scowled. Did she really remember that?
Gillian kept her eyes on his tie, because he was at the brink of one of his smiling frowns. The security guards at the lobby had the feed from the elevators on screen at all times, and she didn't want to give them a free show.
"You're lucky you're not wearing your blue suit."
"Am I?"
She was grateful the booth jingled open at the underground parking where Brock's car was.
"Shall we?" he said softly.
His hand on the small of her back caused her a delicious chill of anticipation. She walked out of the elevator and stopped a few steps away to turn to him.
As he joined her, Brock acknowledged for the first time the real meaning of that pull between them he'd always thought purely intellectual. And gave in to it gladly. Ignoring the thousand cameras scattered all over the place-and the three techs upstairs, who were surely hacking them for the punks to enjoy the view-he stood only inches away from her and grabbed her face gently. His other hand rested around her waist, to bring her even closer. The way her eyelids came slowly down when he tilted his head was like smack on the back of his neck, pushing him to meet her lips.
Gillian grasped his lapel to keep him close. Maybe it was her, but this kiss felt even better than those they'd already shared. She stuck to him, wishing all the clocks on earth would break and time would stop. Until her lungs ached for air, the spoiled things. Knowing this wouldn't be their last kiss didn't keep her from regretting the moment she let go of his lips.
The words just escaped her mouth, her eyes still closed to linger on her sensations. "Gosh, I love you..."
His thumb caressed her cheek, slow and gentle as his kiss.
"And I love you," he whispered, so close she felt his breath on her skin.
That, and his cologne wrapping around her, made her meet those amazing green eyes of his.
"Can we just get outta here?"
His smile made her shiver again, because there was something playful about it she'd never seen before. And it seemed to had a direct line to her libido.
He unlocked his car from where they were and waved for her to go to it.
"Where would you like to have dinner?" he asked, oh so proper.
They reached his car and he opened the passenger's door as she frowned at the dinner bit. Did he actually expect her to hold her horses for hours? Now that she'd finally mustered the guts to face him? Then she recalled her countless dreams of him. Kitchens had been funny...
"We can call a delivery from my place," she said.
Brock took his turn to frown as she got in the car. "How long since your last homemade meal?"
Gotcha. Damn profiler. She needed a moment to remember. "Connor went back to school a week ago, so..."
Brock nodded and closed her door. She narrowed her eyes as she watched him circle the car and get in behind the wheel. He started the engine and glanced at her.
"I've got all we need at my place," he said, gearing in. And hoping his statement wouldn't turn out a bluff.
"Okay..." Gillian made a mental note to tell him the I-outrank-you gambit was growing old. Not now, when he used it in such a lovely way. But soon. Some day. Eventually.