Nikki didn’t see Gabe for two whole days after the hug apocalypse in the rec room, but then he’d brought her a banana-strawberry smoothie on Thursday, and from there, a routine began. For the next week, Gabe brought her a smoothie from D’Juice just after lunch, and he chatted with her while she prepped for dinner.

He’d asked her again about why she hadn’t found time to create the jewelry she used to be so obsessed with doing. She’d given him the same answer, mainly because she’d been too embarrassed to tell the truth.

What she used to enjoy had been tainted after that night.

Not that she’d ever tell him that, not when they were becoming friends.

He’d asked her about college. She’d asked him about how much his woodworking business had grown. She told him about her plans to find an apartment, and he offered to help her move when that day came.

A de Vincent moving her stuff?

She’d laughed then when he suggested it and could laugh now even thinking about it.

They didn’t talk about what happened with his sister or about his father and there was definitely no mention of what had happened during the impromptu hug.

Nikki was even beginning to think that she possibly imagined what she’d felt pressed against her. She hadn’t even told Rosie about that, and if she hadn’t imagined it, then she chalked it up to him just having a physical reaction to being close to a woman’s body.

Because Nikki seriously believed that some guys could get hard if the wind blew across their pelvic area.

After all, that was all it had to be, because Gabe showed no outward interest in her beyond what he’d said he wanted, which was to be friends.

It was Wednesday evening, right before dinnertime, when Gabe appeared in the kitchen. “Heads up,” he said, strolling past her. He picked up her braid and flipped it over her shoulder. “Ms. Harrington is in the house.”

“Ugh,” she muttered, already knowing that Devlin was planning to have dinner with her tonight. “Is her brother with her?”

“Unfortunately. Make it four for dinner,” he said, drawing her gaze to him. “No way am I leaving you to fend for yourself with them.”

Oh, that was . . . sweet, and sounded like the Gabe she knew. “Thanks.”

“And I have another purpose for being here other than watching you check the roast beef, which, by the way, smells amazing.”

She smiled at that and ignored the way her belly jumped around. “I think it’s going to turn out pretty good.” Closing the oven door, she faced him and got a little tongue-tied. Why, oh why, did he have to be so . . . freaking hot. “Why else are you here? I don’t see a smoothie.”

“No smoothie. Yet.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that.

A half smile appeared. “What are you doing after you get off?”

Oh.

Oh my.

That was not a question she was expecting. “Uh, nothing. I was heading home.”

“So, no plans?” When she nodded, he said, “That works out perfect, because now you do.”

“I do?” she squeaked. Like a mouse. Ugh.

His grin kicked up a notch. “Yep.”

Now her heart was jumping along with her stomach. “What am I doing?”

“It’s a surprise.”

She stilled, barely breathing. “I don’t like surprises.”

“Whatever,” he laughed. “Yes, you do.”

“Not anymore.”

Pushing away from the counter, he slid her a knowing look. “You’ll like this one. Trust me.”

“But—”

Gabe was already strolling out of the kitchen, leaving her standing there with her mouth hanging open.

That was how Parker found her.

Because she had the worst luck known to man.

He walked through the main doorway. “Nikki.”

Her spine stiffened. “What are you doing in here?”

“Getting a drink.” He swaggered into the kitchen like he belonged in there.

Nikki knew damn well he knew to ask her father if he wanted a drink, which meant he snuck around her dad somehow.

“But now that I see you in here, I’ll let you do your job.” He flashed those bright teeth. “I would like a scotch on the rocks.”

Resisting the urge to tell him to help himself, she pivoted around and headed for the pantry where the liquor was stored off the kitchen.

“Make sure you get the good stuff.”

Nikki jumped at the closeness of his voice. She should’ve known he’d follow her. “You didn’t need to come in here.”

“Thought I’d keep you company,” he replied. “Just like Gabe was keeping you company.”

Climbing up the small ladder, she looked down at where he stood, blocking the damn door like the jerk-face he was. How long had he been waiting out in the hall to come in? She grabbed a top-shelf bottle.

“Gabe doesn’t like me,” he said, sounding indifferent.

Well, guess that answered her question.

What a creeper.

“I really wouldn’t know.” She came down the ladder. “Excuse me.”

He didn’t move. “He’s going to have to get used to me. His brother is marrying my sister.”

“Has Devlin picked a date yet?” The question came out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

His lips thinned slightly. “He will. Soon.”

“Hmm.” She stepped to the side. “If you want me to make you this drink, you’re going to have to move.”

“What if I don’t want to move?”

Irritated, she squared her shoulders. “Look, I’m just trying to do my job. Can you please move?”

He bent at the waist, lowering his head so they were eye level. “Say it nicely and maybe I will.”

She drew back, seconds from slamming her foot on his. “Can you please move aside, Parker?”

“That wasn’t really that nice, but I do want that drink.” He stepped back. “And I want you to make it for me.”

Swallowing a load of curses that would make a truck driver pleased, she went back into the kitchen and grabbed a tumbler.

“You don’t like me either.” He’d followed her back into the kitchen. “Don’t even deny it. I know you don’t.”

Well, he said not to deny it, so she kept her mouth shut as she filled his glass with ice.

“I don’t get it,” he continued. “You should be thrilled that I even notice you.”

Okay. Now she was unable to keep her mouth closed. “Perhaps that is why I don’t like you.” She poured the scotch and then picked up the glass, offering it to him. “Besides the fact you have no sense of personal boundaries? You’re arrogant because you’re rich and you’re used to getting whatever you want. That’s why I don’t like you.”

Parker laughed.

She wasn’t sure how she expected him to respond, but laughing wasn’t one of them.

Taking his glass, he stared down at her with what her mom would say were airs. Like he was a million leagues better than her. “I have some advice for you, Nikki.”

“Can’t wait to hear it.”

His nostrils flared. “You better improve that attitude of yours before my sister does marry Dev.” He reached out, placing a cool finger on her cheek as he said, “Actually, you should start right now.”

Nikki jerked back. “Don’t touch me.”

“You’re not listening to me.” He smirked, lowering his hand. “You should be nicer to me, because even if you’re gone by the time Sabrina marries Dev, she can make damn sure that your parents no longer have a job here.”

Sucking in a shocked gasp, she stared up at Parker. A wicked sense of déjà vu swept over her. “You’re threatening my parents’ employment? Again?”

“You know it’s not a threat. It’s a piece of advice. Drop the bitch act and maybe when your mom is feeling better, she’ll still have a job.” He paused. “And considering her health, her and her husband losing their jobs because their daughter is a little bitch is the last thing they need.”

Her lips parted. Shocked, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Why she was surprised in the first place was beyond her. That’s what he’d done the last time, when he tried to pull her towel off her and managed to shove his hand under it. He’d threatened her and it had worked. But now? Maybe it had to do with the fact he knew how sick her mother was and he was still threatening her employment.

Nikki was disgusted and horrified.

Switching his glass to his other hand, he reached out before she could move, dragging his damp finger along the curve of her cheek.

“Just something to think about the next time we cross paths.” One side of his mouth curled up. “Okay?”

Parker didn’t wait for an answer. Nikki bit back a curse as she watched him leave the kitchen just as her father appeared, looking harried and beyond annoyed.

Parker nodded at him as he passed.

“Is everything okay?” Her father hurried over.

Clearing her throat, she nodded, not wanting her father to worry. He had enough to stress over. “Yeah, everything is great.”

For what felt like the hundredth time since Nic got in his car, he glanced over at her.

She’d been strangely quiet for the drive into the city, sitting still and staring at the window. She’d been the same way during the dinner, barely making eye contact with anyone, including him. He’d thought she’d be in a jovial mood considering Parker ended up not joining his sister for dinner. Hell, he hadn’t even seen the punk ass.

Hands tightening on the steering wheel, he glanced over at her again when the traffic slowed on the highway. “You okay, Nic?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Hey.” He reached over, touching her arm lightly. She jumped, and he frowned. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah. Yes. Sorry.” She looked over at him. The overhead street lamp glanced off her shadowed face. “Just lost in my head. So, you going to tell me about this surprise?”

“If I did, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He took the exit to the Business District.

Gabe wasn’t even sure why he was doing this. It was just something that had stuck in his head ever since spaghetti night.

She shot him a look as she fiddled with the edge of her braid. A moment passed and then she asked, “Do you really think Devlin is going to marry Sabrina?”

“That’s a random question,” he said with a laugh.

“I know.” She dropped her hands to her lap. “It’s just that they barely talk to one another. Sabrina paid more attention to you at dinner than she did Devlin.”

His lip curled with disgust. “Yeah, well, Sabrina wants what she can’t have.”

“You?”

“I met her in college, after Dev graduated. She was interested.” He turned down Iberville. “I wasn’t. Still not.”

“Did something happen between you guys?”

“No,” he said, speaking the truth. “She tried a time or two back in college, but nothing ever happened.”

Lucian always believed otherwise, but his brother was wrong. Other than being somewhat kind to Sabrina in the beginning, Gabe did nothing to encourage her.

“I don’t like her,” Nic said with a sigh.

“Yeah.” He remembered how Sabrina had talked to her during the first dinner. He hadn’t helped matters. “Sorry about how I acted that one dinner. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”

Nic waved it off, but he knew what he’d done had bothered her. “We’re going to your workshop, aren’t we?”

“Yep.”

“Why?” Interest filled her voice.

“You’ll see.”

She sighed heavily. “Sabrina brought up Baton Rouge during dinner. Seems like you go there a lot.”

He nodded as he cut down a narrow alley. “I have been.”

Gabe could feel her gaze on him. “So what are you doing up there?”

“I’ve been looking for a place,” he answered, which was true.

“You’re moving there?” She sounded surprised.

“Part-time. That’s the plan.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer, because he wasn’t sure how he could without feeling like shit and having her think the worst of him. Because once she learned the truth, she would wonder what everyone would, which was how in the fuck was he here and not there.

It was a question he kept asking himself.

“Are you . . . seeing someone there?” she asked, her voice quiet.

His head shot in her direction as he parked the Porsche. She wasn’t looking at him, but she was messing with her braid again. “No, I’m not seeing someone there.”

“Oh.”

He reached over, gently wrapping his fingers around her wrist. Her gaze flew to his as he pulled her hand away from her hair. “I just have some stuff going on there, okay?”

Her brows knitted together. “Okay.”

Exhaling heavily, he let go of her wrist, refusing to acknowledge just how soft her damn skin was. “You ready?”

“For the surprise?” She smiled. “I think so.”

Laughing under his breath, he unhooked his seatbelt. “Hold on.”

Gabe climbed out and jogged around the front of the car, going to her side. He opened the door for her. Closing it behind her, he led her in through the back entrance of his workshop.

A blast of cold air and the scent of raw wood greeted them as he opened the door. He flipped the overhead light on. The lights whirled to life, casting the shop out of darkness.

Nic brushed past him, and the slight touch of her hip against his was like a punch to the gut. There was no ignoring the visceral reaction to her. His dick immediately roared to life, a sure sign he needed to get laid, because handling it himself wasn’t working.

She was a beautiful woman. That was all it was. And she was forbidden, a big no-no, which made her even more . . . there, right in front of him.

That’s what he kept telling himself as she stepped out of the hall and into the open space. “Wow.” She scanned the various projects he had going. “This place is bigger than I imagined.”

Nic moved further into the shop and knelt down, tracing the scrollwork on the leg of a chair. “This is beautiful, Gabe.” She looked up at him through thick lashes. “Really.”

He was oddly jealous of that chair leg.

“I always thought it was strange.” She stroked her hand across the carved wood.

“What?” He watched her tilt her head to the side.

“Lucian paints. Madeline was also a painter. You can turn a couple of sheets of plywood and lumber into something stunning.” She rose fluidly, with the grace of a lithe dancer. “But Devlin, he doesn’t have a talent.”

“Does pissing people off count as a talent? Because if so, he fucking excels at it.”

Her laugh was soft, but hell, it rolled and licked over his skin. “True.”

“Dev does have a hidden talent,” he said, unable to drag his gaze off her as she moved over to a workbench. She touched each tool left out with just one finger and then two, and he swore to God, his dick got harder.

How fucked-up was that?

He really needed to go out, find someone to screw his brains out, because the raw lust pounding through his veins needed an outlet.

And that outlet wasn’t Nic.

No matter how tempting she was.

“What’s his talent?” she asked, picking up a small chisel.

“He can sing.” He eased past her, running a hand over a table he’d been working on earlier in the day.

“What?” She laughed. “Are you for real?”

He nodded as he stopped on the other side of her. One would think talking about his brother would do something about the hard-on he was rocking at the moment, but apparently not. “Would I lie about something like that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Well, I’m not. The man can sing. But you’d have to get him drunk before that happens.” He was done talking about his brother. “Come on. Your surprise is through that door over there.”

Her gaze drifted over his shoulder. “I really have no idea what this surprise is.”

Because he was into self-torture, he took her hand, somewhat awed by how small it felt in his.

He was being a dumbass.

Folding his fingers around hers, he avoided her gaze as he pulled her across the main floor. “So, I thought that since you haven’t decided what to do about school or work, you had some extra time on your hands.”

He stopped in front of the door and turned the handle with his free hand. “And I know you said you weren’t into the same things you were back then, but I think you just might be.”

Pushing open the door, he reached inside and flipped on the light. He tugged on her hand, letting her squeeze past him.

The contact of her smaller body brushing against his fried his senses, but he ignored that as he focused on her face.

And saw the exact moment she understood what she was looking at.

Those pink lips parted on a soft inhale as those big eyes got even bigger. “Gabe . . .”

She twisted toward him, and he smiled at her. “I’ve been keeping the spare pieces of wood over the years, just tossing them in here. Not even sure why.” He frowned, not really wanting to look too closely at the reason for doing so. “Anyway, I asked Richard if you still had a woodcarving kit. He said he didn’t think so.”

He’d cleaned up the room over the weekend and put a little desk in there, one that he’d made himself but never sold. It had the same vine work as the trim at home. On the desk was a black, smooth box sitting next to a lamp he’d dug out of storage.

“I ordered a new kit,” he continued. “And all that wood in the corner is yours if you want it. Actually, this room is yours if you want to use it since I doubt your parents want dust and shavings all over their house again.”

“Are you . . . are you serious?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” He took a breath. “You’re free to use it whenever. Got an extra key and everything.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Blinking rapidly, she turned back to the room. Nic squeezed his hand, and that’s when he realized he was still holding her damn hand.

He let go and folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I’m hoping you’ll say you love it and you’ll make use of it.”

Nic tucked her hands under her chin as her shoulders rose with a deep breath. She stepped into the room and then reached out, touching the kit. A second later she opened it, and then did what she’d done out in the main area. She ran her fingers along the tools.

His damn dick jumped.

“This had to cost a fortune,” she said, her voice filled with wonder. “This isn’t a cheap set.”

He grumbled a nonresponse.

“I love it,” she said, and then she spun on him. “And I’ll make use of it.”

Then the strangest damn thing occurred in that moment. He’d wondered if he made a mistake.

Gabe’s gaze dropped to her mouth.

A second later, she threw herself at him, like she’d done the night she’d learned about his father, like she’d done a hundred times before things went to shit.

He caught her, taking her weight as she threw her arms around him. He hugged her back, praying that she didn’t feel his cock, because shit, that would complicate things.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice muffled and oddly hoarse. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Gabe kind of thought he did as he dropped his chin and caught the scent of her shampoo. Strawberries. Her and her damn strawberries.

Briefly, he closed his eyes and then he pulled back, letting his hands slip to her arms. Then he held her back. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” she corrected.

Yeah, he liked hearing that. Liked it too much. And yeah, he was thinking that he made a mistake and he had no idea how badly he was going to regret it later on, but he knew he wouldn’t have changed a damn thing.