CHAPTER TWO
He was expected back in San Francisco in—Gabriel Sterling checked the clock on the dash—six hours. Hmm. Even if he drove fast, he wouldn’t make it.
Well, then. Since he was late already, why worry?
Instead of continuing down the freeway which would eventually end with him walking into the boardroom of his tech company for another god-awful meeting, he turned off and headed for Emerson. It was a small town in Washington, it was out of his way, and it was a whole hell of a lot more appealing than San Francisco right now.
He’d just come from a crap-load of meetings in Seattle. Gabe liked people. He loved his job. In particular, he loved that he was the boss. However, after days and days stuck in legal wrangling, contract negotiations, and business projections, even his good nature had been beaten down.
Settling into the black leather seat of his Aston Martin, he drove on through the night.
Dawn was coming.
You couldn’t see it in the sky yet, but Gabe felt it. His restless spirit meant he never slept much, and rarely did he sleep late. More often than not he was awake before dawn, and was familiar with the press of rising energy as the world turned and the sun trembled just beyond the horizon.
He felt the usual fizz of it in his blood, but this morning, like every morning for the last few months, it left him cold.
Once, a new day was a new opportunity to get up, get out there. Moving, aiming, driving toward a clear and distinct goal. Toward his endgame.
Today, he was cruising down a dark freeway, and he couldn’t get excited. Something had broken loose deep inside him, and he didn’t know how to mend it.
He did know what had caused it. At least, he had a good idea.
Nebula.
At this point in his career, Gabe had a diverse portfolio of investments, and financial interests in a number of businesses, but what had made him a millionaire was technology. He’d done well out of it, over the years. At thirty-nine, he’d come to the conclusion that making money, after the first hundred million, became…boring.
God, was he bored.
It was the dark side of the edge he’d ridden his whole life. His brain worked at hyper-fast speeds, always seeking diversion, stimulation, the next shiny distraction. He had trouble concentrating on any one thing—until he didn’t. Once a project caught his attention, he’d be sucked under and lost to reality.
Then Nebula had happened.
Even thinking the codename of his latest project made him feel limp.
Nebula was a problem. Gabe was used to problems. He loved them. If they didn’t come to him, he went looking until he found one. And he’d fix it.
But with Nebula, instead of being hit by a cascade of solutions that he’d sift through, discard, and modify until he arrived at the optimal outcome, he saw something a whole lot scarier.
He saw a stop.
He’d been ripping through life at a thousand miles an hour ever since he could remember. Now, it was as if he’d just gotten a good look at the freeway of his life up ahead…and it wasn’t finished.
He was running out of metaphorical road.
Gabe flexed his fingers around the wheel a few times and yawned wide enough to make his jaw crack. He opened the window, blasting the interior of the car with fresh cold air.
Metaphorical road, he told himself. Not the real one.
Don’t fall asleep at the wheel.
If he went back to San Francisco, he’d be stuck in the board meeting, and sooner or later someone, probably Bill Anderson, his COO, would bring up Nebula. All anyone seemed to do these days was bring up fucking Nebula. And when they did, he wouldn’t see the familiar conference room in his office building, filled with the familiar faces of his hand-picked team. He’d see that broken freeway again.
Hell, no. Not today.
Three hours later, he pulled down a rutted dirt track on the outskirts of Emerson and jumped out the car.
He didn’t bother checking to see if it was too early for a visit. One, it was never too early. And two, if Alex and Elle weren’t out of bed yet, he’d let himself in like he always did. Gabe jogged up the porch steps, turned the handle, and chested the door when it didn’t give way as he’d expected.
He stepped back and glared at it.
Fine.
He banged down the steps, and went around to the back door instead.
Locked.
Turning, he strode to the barn, but stopped before he even got there. He could see from halfway across the yard that the barn doors were shut. They, too, were locked.
Really locked.
Alex had wrapped a chain through the handles and added a padlock. He was a famous metal sculptor, and he was beyond paranoid about people poking around and trying to get a sneak peek at his latest work in progress. Especially since his career had gone through a recent revitalization.
Gabe stared back at the house. Now he took a moment to look at it rather than bounding up expecting it to be warm and welcoming and loud and messy because he wanted it to be, it was obvious that the house had been closed up.
That he’d been locked out.
Slipping his phone from his pocket, he punched in a number and waited, frowning at the trees that encircled the house. The phone rang and rang.
After ten rings, the voicemail kicked in: “Go away.” Alex, charming and to the point as always.
Gabe disconnected and scrolled to the next number.
Three rings in, she answered. “Morning, Gabe,” Elle Finley said. Somewhere. Wherever she was.
“Don’t you good morning me,” he said. “Where are you?”
“On top of Alex.”
“Where is Alex? Don’t say under you. I already thought it, and it wasn’t funny the first time. I’m not in a joking kind of mood.”
“What kind of mood are you in?”
“I’m not sure. I know what kind of mood I was in, but that was when I was five minutes away from a cup of coffee and petting the dog. Now, things are up in the air. Now, I’m thinking I might be in a break-in-to-your-house kind of mood.”
“You have a key, Gabe. It doesn’t count as breaking in when you have a key.”
He grunted. Yeah, he had a key. He’d never had to use it before. Someone was always there.
“What is it?” Elle’s soft voice sharpened. “What’s the matter?”
He scowled at the dirt. “Nothing. I thought I’d swing by and see you guys as I was in the area—” the state, “—but it looks like I wasted my time. I was going to take Gargoyle out for a hike. Maybe.”
Elle paused at the other end. “Are you okay?”
Great, now she sounded all concerned.
“Of course I’m okay. It’s me. I’m always okay.”
“I don’t believe you. I— Hey!”
Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, knowing what was coming.
Seconds later, “Stop upsetting my girlfriend,” Alex said.
“If you answered your phone like I keep telling you to, I wouldn’t have had to call her in the first place.”
“I’m on vacation!”
Vacation? Alex Zacharov didn’t take vacations. Ever. “What the hell would you even do on vacation?” Gabe asked.
“What do you think? Exactly what I was trying to do before you interrupted.”
Huh. “You can have sex with Elle here.”
“I wanted to do it somewhere else for a change.”
“You should have told me.”
“Gabe, why?”
“What if I wanted to, I don’t know, drop in? Say hi, walk the dog? Spending time with animals is good for your health. Lowers your blood pressure.”
“Get your own dog. And since, despite my request to the contrary, you shared with me in extreme and horrifying detail the results of your last medical, I happen to know you have the blood pressure of a lizard. Any lower and you’ll lose consciousness.”
“I don’t need to get a dog. I like your dog.”
“If missing out on taking Gargoyle for a walk is the reason your panties are in a bunch, go to Jenny’s. She’s dog-sitting.”
Gabe sucked in a sharp breath. “You asked Jenny, rather than me? I’m hurt, Alex. I love that dog.”
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It is no bother!”
“Okay. I didn’t think you’d have the spare time to drive all the way from San Francisco to Emerson to spend a long weekend with my dog.”
“I’d have done it.”
“Now I know that. I’ll remember for next time. This time, we wanted to get out of town, and Jenny took him.”
“Fine.”
“Gabe.”
“What?”
“You’re being weird.” He paused for a beat. “You’re being weirder than usual.”
“Weird is relative. Everything is fine. I have no problems at all.” Broken freeway. Fuck.
“Stay. We’ll be back tomorrow. We can hang out.”
Gabe strode to his car. “I’m supposed to be somewhere else.” He got in, buckled up.
“You’re always supposed to be somewhere else. Never stops you from doing what you want.”
“Yeah, but I’m really supposed to be somewhere else. If I push it any longer, Bill will send helicopters and an extraction team after me.” Gabe fired up the car and gripped the steering wheel. “I’m going to let you go, Alex.”
“Sure. I want you to stay, but do what you gotta do. And if you need to self-medicate with my dog, Jenny won’t mind.”
~ ~ ~
Standing on Jenny Finley’s porch, Gabe heard a familiar bark from inside as footsteps approached. Jenny opened the door.
She didn’t seem surprised to see him, so he guessed Elle had called to warn her.
Knowing Elle’s warm heart, she’d instructed Jenny to be nice and welcoming. Knowing Elle’s curious nature, she’d also given instructions to find out what he was doing in Emerson in the first place.
Hands on her hips, Jenny looked up at him. “Gabriel.”
“Jennifer.”
“Can I help you with something?”
“You know why I’m here.”
“I’m busy,” she said. “I have vacuuming to do. You’re interrupting my day.”
So much for nice and welcoming. “Give me what I want, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
Hard to believe that when they’d met a year ago, Gabe had managed to fluster her with nothing more than his tattoos and a smile. Yeah. She’d been smitten by his rebel looks for all of an hour. Then she’d gotten his number, and she’d treated him like a younger brother ever since.
She was more than a decade too young to be his big sister.
It was adorable.
“Give me the dog, brat,” he said.
“No! They gave me the dog! I’m keeping him!”
“I want to take him for a walk.”
“That’s what Elle said, but I don’t believe you. You’ll dognap him.”
“Hadn’t thought of that. Haven’t planned for it, either, and everyone knows a successful kidnapping is all about the preparation. I’ll save it for another day. For now, all I want is to take him for a walk.”
Jenny considered Gabe for a long moment before she opened the door wide, moving out of his way. “You can take him if he’ll go with you.”
“He’ll go with me. He loves me.” Gabe was almost sure of it.
Gargoyle was Alex’s dog, adopted from a shelter as a mangy pup. Gabe had been trying to win him over for the last six years. He was a full-grown and then some husky, who was homely yet appropriately badass-looking, until you tried to interact with him. Then he turned into quivering Jell-O.
Alex said he was scared of all men, apart from Alex, of course, but it was hard not to take it personally when a great big dog peed himself because your laugh was too loud.
“Gargoyle!” Gabe walked in, looking around.
“He’s behind the couch.”
He always hid behind the nearest couch when Gabe showed up. “I know where he hides. I’ve known him longer than you. Which is one of the many reasons Alex should have given him to me, not you.” He strode over to the couch, put a knee on it and leaned over the back. When he straightened, he held out Jenny’s five-year-old daughter Kate, who tipped her head back to grin up at him.
“Your dust bunnies are getting out of control again,” he said, turning to Jenny. “I think they’re evolving. This one’s wearing a dress.” He dropped Kate onto the couch, making her squeal as she bounced. Jenny rolled her eyes.
Gabe walked around and hunkered in front of Gargoyle, bringing them eye level. “Hey, buddy. It’s me!”
Gargoyle gave him a horrified look and hunched his shoulders.
“Come on, buddy.” Gabe stroked a gentle hand over the top of Gargoyle’s silver-gray head. “Don’t mess with me. Not today.”
Damn dog always did this. Stared at Gabe like he was a murderer and then, minutes before he had to leave, suddenly Gargoyle was his best friend.
Sighing, Gabe knelt on the carpet and stared at Gargoyle, who lay down and allowed the tip of his nose to touch Gabe’s knee. “What is with this animal? How come he likes you and he doesn’t like me?”
“You know why. You’re a dude. Stop letting it get to you,” Jenny said.
Kate leaned over the back of the couch, bracing her arms on the edge. “He doesn’t like Derek either,” she offered.
Jenny sniffed. “No one likes Derek.”
“That’s not true,” Kate said. “Everyone likes Derek. Except Mom.” She sent her mother a squint-eyed look, lower lip jutting out. Jenny’s cheeks pinkened.
Yeah, Gabe knew quite how much Jenny didn’t like Derek Tate. She was crazy in love with the man and so damn scared of it, he’d laugh. If, you know. It wasn’t tragic.
Sensing a tantrum, Gabe jumped to his feet and grabbed his backpack off the couch. He unzipped it. “Look! Look what I brought you guys!” He pulled out a squeaky toy bear for Gargoyle and a box of expensive chocolates for Kate. He squeaked the bear to clue Gargoyle in, then hurled it for the kitchen. With a deep woof and a scrabble of claws, Gargoyle lunged from behind the couch, nearly knocking Gabe down, and chased after it.
So did Kate.
Gabe looked at her, looked at the box of chocolates, and shrugged. He handed it to Jenny.
“Chocolates?” she said. “For a five-year-old?”
“I bought them for Elle, but what female doesn’t like chocolate?”
“Jerk.”
“Say it without drooling.”
“I am not drooling.”
“Seriously.” He reached out and made as if to wipe her chin.
Jenny slapped him away, laughing. “God, you’re such a pain in the ass.”
He grinned. “You’re happy to see me.”
“Always am. Come on.” She led the way to the kitchen. “Want some coffee?”
“Only if you give me the real stuff and don’t try to poison me with decaf like Alex always does. Despite the fact I shared with him the results of my medical to prove that my system is unaffected by all the caffeine I consume.”
“I always give you the real stuff. You amuse me. Caffeinated, you amuse me a lot. Also, I have a five-year-old. Unlike Alex, I am both confident and experienced in handling people whose rational thought processes and attention spans flick on and off like a cheap motel sign.”
Gabe shook his head. “Why are you still single, viper?”
“Because I lost 180 pounds of deadweight husband, I climbed up onto the spinster shelf, and I plan to defend my position with everything in my arsenal. Plus, I have a drawer full of batteries. What do I need a man for?”
In the yard outside, Kate stood over a pile of squeaky bears—every last one yet another of Gabe’s failed attempts to buy Gargoyle’s affection—and was throwing them one after the other for Gargoyle. He had stuffed three in his mouth, and was trying to cram in a fourth.
“Here.” Jenny nudged Gabe and handed him a mug of coffee.
“Thanks.” It was a paint-it-yourself mug, and had been decorated with a lumpy red dragon. Kate’s work, he guessed. Gabe smiled. Derek Tate had a dragon tattoo. Nice ink.
Leaning against the counter, he blew into the mug, watching Jenny over the rim. “What’s going on with you and Tate?” he asked, and took a sip.
Jenny’s lips tightened. “Not a damn thing.”
“You know, if I was a betting man like your asshole ex-husband, I’d lay good money on him climbing up to that spinster shelf you were talking about, and dragging you down.”
“Good job you’re nothing like my asshole ex-husband, and you’re not dumb enough to bet at all, let alone on love.”
“Sweetheart, I didn’t say anything about love.”
“Shut up,” she said crossly. “And stop looming.” She sat at the kitchen table.
He sat opposite her, raising his brows.
“What are you doing here, Gabe?” Jenny asked.
He pointed out the window at Gargoyle.
“Forget that nonsense about the dog. I want the truth.”
“The truth?” Gabe took another sip of his coffee, and shrugged. “The truth is, I don’t know.”
“I do.”
“Enlighten me.”
“You’re in mourning.”
He blinked. “Who died?”
“No one died. You lost something precious and you don’t know how to handle your feelings.”
He bit back a smile. “I can handle anything. And I haven’t lost—”
“You lost your wingman.”
Gabe burst out laughing. “Alex was never my wingman. You think I’d let him anywhere near my love life? Be serious, Jenny.” Alex’s idea of approaching a woman would go something along the lines of, Hey, my friend wants to have sex with you. How about it? “Our wingman situation was a one-way street. In other words, I told him what to do. You’re welcome, by the way. If I hadn’t intervened, Elle would never have ended up with Alex. She could have ended up with T.J.”
Elle’s boss, Dr. Ted ‘T.J.’ Coleman, a man who was blissfully un-self-aware, cheerfully optimistic in the face of a thousand female rejections, and whose social skills made even Alex seem suave.
At the thought of it, Jenny shuddered.
Gabe continued, “If the day ever comes that I need Alex Zacharov’s help with a woman, promise that you’ll shoot me. Take me out. Head shot.”
Jenny waited for him to finish and said, “Since he found Elle, you’ve lost your place in his life.”
“It’s possible that you’re confused about the nature of my relationship with Alex.”
“I mean there isn’t the same kind of room for you in his life. You’re not interrupting Alex when you decide to drop in unannounced. You’re interrupting a couple.”
Gabe leaned back in the chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Don’t tell me I want what he has. I don’t want it.”
“Hey, I’m with you, man. Love sucks.”
“Love is awesome, Jenny. It’s just not for me. Can you imagine what I’d do to a woman?”
“I’d rather not,” she said. “I don’t see you that way.”
“I wasn’t talking about sex. I can’t commit. For me to know this, and yet still try to find an Elle of my own in some sort of twisted keeping-up-with-my-buddy competition, would be an act of extreme and premeditated cruelty.”
“If you’re not yearning for an Elle of your own, then, try getting a home of your own. That way you won’t have to keep invading Alex’s.”
“Eh. I already have ten. I don’t think I need any more.”
Her eyes bulged. “Ten?”
“Eleven? No. It’s ten.”
Jenny looked thoughtful. “Any of those properties in Hawaii?”
“Bahamas. Why? Fancy a vacation? Let me know.”
“You have ten properties, including one in the Bahamas, yet you keep coming here. To Emerson. I think you want a home. You might not be ready for an Elle, but you’re ready to nest. Do it, Gabe. Make yourself a home.”
She could be on to something. “All right. How?”
“What?”
“How do I make a home?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“Because I saw this place when you first moved in. You’ve done an amazing job. Turned it from a dump into a cute little cottage.” He sat straighter and looked around with interest. “I’ll make this my home. I already know I like the area.”
“No, Gabe. It’s not for sale.”
“A million bucks.”
“It’s too small for you,” she said.
“You’d be amazed at where I can fit.”
“You work in San Francisco!”
“I’m also very flexible.”
“It’s already a home. Mine and Kate’s.”
He ignored her. “First thing I think when I walk in here? What a cozy home. I’ve never—” he sat back, struck, “—I’ve never once walked through my own door and thought, hey, I’m home.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m…here.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah, I’m going to buy this place. Million and a half. It’s clear I have no idea how to make a home myself, or I’d have gotten around to it in the last twenty-two years.” He watched Jenny’s expression soften. “What?” he said.
“I’m twenty-eight.”
“I know that.”
“You’ve been alone since I was about Kate’s age?”
He stared at her. “I’ve been… I’ve been busy.”
“Right. I forgot. Building your empire and everything.”
“You don’t get to be a millionaire by sitting on your ass.”
“And money is all you’ll ever have, if you don’t watch out. Here’s what you’re going to do, Gabe. You’re going to go back to San Francisco and find yourself an interior designer. All you have to provide is the property and the money, and they’ll take care of the rest. You’ll have a home before you know it.”
“And you think that will solve all my problems?”
Jenny leaned over the table and patted his cheek. “Not all of them. But it’s a start.”