Claire went into the kitchen and found Gavin in there, leaning against the counter with a soda.  He set it down and came to her, sweet and affectionate with her.  "I love you, too, Gavin," she said as he pulled her into his arms.  He kissed her, and the moment he deepened the kiss, his tongue lightly flicking over her lip, she stiffened.  "Gavin," she protested softly, letting her voice trail away.  This wasn't the time for that.<br/><br/>He let her go at the same time Landon came in, and she smiled.  "I'll have lunch on the table in a minute," she said as she pulled guacamole, sour cream, and salsa from the refrigerator and set them down.  Going over to the warming oven, she got out the fajita meat and the tortillas, which she'd bought at a Mexican restaurant down the street where a lady named Maria made them by hand.  "You guys can have some beer if you want.  I'll drive if we need to go anywhere."  Her general rule was that if she or Gavin had even a little bit of alcohol, they couldn't drive for three hours.  Any more than one drink, and no driving until the next day.  It was a little strict, she knew, but she'd lived through the consequences of drunk driving and refused to be part of the problem.  And Gavin had never complained when she'd imposed the same rule on him.<br/><br/>She took her seat at the table and served some of the chicken to the guys before putting some on a tortilla for herself.  "Landon, it's way better than the last time I made Mexican food for you," she said, a smile on her face as she remembered the debacle that the green enchiladas had been a few visits ago.