Gideon was slightly miffed when Amelia pulled away, but he wouldn't allow that to last for long. "You don't have to make up for anything," he told her. He meant it, too. Just because things came to a head during the attacks, and maybe because of the attacks, didn't mean Amelia had to make up for some sort of lost time. He didn't care. But he'd be stupid to dismiss her efforts and her scantily-clad body, and he wasn't stupid. There were many things one could call Gideon Prewett, but stupid wasn't one of them.
His move, then? Good. Gideon had plenty of moves that he hadn't yet used on Amelia. One included throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her upstairs like a sack of potatoes. It was a really good option that he'd had fun using in the past on other women. There was also the more romantic sort of carrying that involved scooping her up like a bride being carried across the threshold. But Gideon wasn't a huge romantic. He wouldn't even take her to the fancy restaurant, so why would he carry her the nice way? Nope. Gideon bent down, grabbed Amelia around her thighs, and threw her over his shoulder. He then headed upstairs, keeping a firm grip on her so she wouldn't fall, and promptly dropped her onto their bed with as little ceremony as possible. "Checkmate," he said with a grin as he crawled toward her.