Read Online GRIT: A Spartan Riders Novel by J.C. Valentine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J.C. Valentine
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thank your lucky stars come morning that you dodged a bullet.”
Backing off, Blake gave her one last, lingering look before he turned and went back inside. From the shadows of his living room, he watched out the bay window as her car backed down the drive, its headlights carving the room in half as she swung around and disappeared into the night.
With a heavy sigh, Blake made his way to the back of the house, to his room where he stood for a moment in the doorway, staring at the empty California king with a touch of regret.
Gabby Morgan was sweet, gentle, and honest. All things he’d thought he’d had, but it’d turned out to be a nothing more than a smokescreen.
Was she really different, or was she just playing the game? And did it really matter?
At the end of the day, she was just another body—able to warm his bed, but never his heart.
EIGHT
“You’re reaching for something you know nothin’ about. Go home, teach. Sleep on it. Guarantee you’ll thank your lucky stars come morning that you dodged a bullet.”
Gabby replayed Blake’s words over and over again for a solid week, and she’d come to one conclusion: he was wrong.
She had yet to forget or regret that kiss. In fact, every time she heard his bike roar down the street, she grew flustered.
Thankfully, he hadn’t been late a single day in that span of time, yet she had to admit that she was disappointed. Tardiness had put him on her radar, her annoyance with him nothing more than a convenient excuse to maintain her distance from a man that, in all her experiences, would spell her destruction. Yet she was woman enough to admit that it had the complete opposite effect. Instead of keeping her away, it had drawn her closer. So close, she hadn’t realized she was about to stick her hand into the open flame until it was too late.
With the burn of his kiss still lingering on her lips, Gabby found herself concocting any reason at all to make their paths cross again.
Which was why, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, she put on her nicest floral sundress, curled her hair into soft waves, and gave her reflection in the bathroom mirror a piece of sage advice. “Nothing risked is nothing gained.” Then she fluffed her boobs and said, “Go get ‘im, tiger.”
She was planning a dinner. One of homemade barbeque ribs bought fresh from the meat market with a side order of coleslaw as per her mother’s skilled hands.
One thing Gabby was not blessed with was the ability to cook. Her mother, bless her heart, had tried her best to teach her, but Gabby was a lost cause. She’d proven more than once that it was possible to burn water. So she stayed out of the kitchen, which was just safer for everyone.
Her feet were light on the stairs, excitement and anticipation filling her to the point of bursting. She hadn’t spoken a word to Blake Mahone since the party, just a casual wave in passing as he picked up Ash and went on his way. His last words had been a rejection of sorts, but Gabby was the type of person who needed something solid. Until he told her point blank that he wanted nothing to do with her, then she was inclined to give it one last shot. Persistence was key in life, no matter the goal.
That kiss was worth the possibility of humiliation.
She hadn’t reached the first floor when she heard the chatter of men talking in the living room.
Her father’s voice mixed with a deeper baritone that reverberated in such a way that she couldn’t discern any words, but the fluttering in her stomach told her what her heart already knew.
Blake Mahone had come to her.
Slowing her pace, she quietly stepped down from the last stair and held her breath as she peeked around the corner.
Unfortunately, as with cooking, spying had never been one of her strong suits either.
Unable to get a good look at him, she took another step forward and unwittingly stepped into a pile of discarded shoes.
One of her mother’s pumps flipped over, the sharp heel digging into
Backing off, Blake gave her one last, lingering look before he turned and went back inside. From the shadows of his living room, he watched out the bay window as her car backed down the drive, its headlights carving the room in half as she swung around and disappeared into the night.
With a heavy sigh, Blake made his way to the back of the house, to his room where he stood for a moment in the doorway, staring at the empty California king with a touch of regret.
Gabby Morgan was sweet, gentle, and honest. All things he’d thought he’d had, but it’d turned out to be a nothing more than a smokescreen.
Was she really different, or was she just playing the game? And did it really matter?
At the end of the day, she was just another body—able to warm his bed, but never his heart.
EIGHT
“You’re reaching for something you know nothin’ about. Go home, teach. Sleep on it. Guarantee you’ll thank your lucky stars come morning that you dodged a bullet.”
Gabby replayed Blake’s words over and over again for a solid week, and she’d come to one conclusion: he was wrong.
She had yet to forget or regret that kiss. In fact, every time she heard his bike roar down the street, she grew flustered.
Thankfully, he hadn’t been late a single day in that span of time, yet she had to admit that she was disappointed. Tardiness had put him on her radar, her annoyance with him nothing more than a convenient excuse to maintain her distance from a man that, in all her experiences, would spell her destruction. Yet she was woman enough to admit that it had the complete opposite effect. Instead of keeping her away, it had drawn her closer. So close, she hadn’t realized she was about to stick her hand into the open flame until it was too late.
With the burn of his kiss still lingering on her lips, Gabby found herself concocting any reason at all to make their paths cross again.
Which was why, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, she put on her nicest floral sundress, curled her hair into soft waves, and gave her reflection in the bathroom mirror a piece of sage advice. “Nothing risked is nothing gained.” Then she fluffed her boobs and said, “Go get ‘im, tiger.”
She was planning a dinner. One of homemade barbeque ribs bought fresh from the meat market with a side order of coleslaw as per her mother’s skilled hands.
One thing Gabby was not blessed with was the ability to cook. Her mother, bless her heart, had tried her best to teach her, but Gabby was a lost cause. She’d proven more than once that it was possible to burn water. So she stayed out of the kitchen, which was just safer for everyone.
Her feet were light on the stairs, excitement and anticipation filling her to the point of bursting. She hadn’t spoken a word to Blake Mahone since the party, just a casual wave in passing as he picked up Ash and went on his way. His last words had been a rejection of sorts, but Gabby was the type of person who needed something solid. Until he told her point blank that he wanted nothing to do with her, then she was inclined to give it one last shot. Persistence was key in life, no matter the goal.
That kiss was worth the possibility of humiliation.
She hadn’t reached the first floor when she heard the chatter of men talking in the living room.
Her father’s voice mixed with a deeper baritone that reverberated in such a way that she couldn’t discern any words, but the fluttering in her stomach told her what her heart already knew.
Blake Mahone had come to her.
Slowing her pace, she quietly stepped down from the last stair and held her breath as she peeked around the corner.
Unfortunately, as with cooking, spying had never been one of her strong suits either.
Unable to get a good look at him, she took another step forward and unwittingly stepped into a pile of discarded shoes.
One of her mother’s pumps flipped over, the sharp heel digging into
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