Chapter 6

 

Gabe has this sexy five o’clock shadow covering his sharp jaw line. I am suddenly wondering why I ever had a crush on Chris Hemsworth when dark haired guys are clearly much hotter.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your call,” he says.

I shrug his words away. “No worries. I was only on the phone so I wouldn’t be alone.”

He grins, like he finds my confession sweet instead of pathetic. “I was actually planning to eat alone, and then I saw you and thought I’d take a chance.”

“Where’s those guys you were with?” I ask. Our waitress asks if he’s ready to order, and he doesn’t bother looking at the menu. He just tells her he’ll have the same salad I’m having. Luckily, I’m a slow eater, so he has plenty of time to catch up to me.

After our waitress leaves to fill his order, he turns back to me. “My cousins are hitting up a strip club,” he says with an extra dose of sarcasm. “Because clearly when you’re on a business trip, you’re supposed to act like a scumbag.”

I laugh. “Something tells me you didn’t want them to go with you on this trip.”

He nods and lets out an exhausted sigh. “I’d be thrilled to have two real business partners join me, but in this case … not so much. I thought they’d learn something, but they’re not even attempting to learn.”

“Do you work with them?” I ask, even though I don’t really care. I want to move the conversation over to more interesting topics, like: girlfriends, and more specifically—does he have one.

“Yeah, kind of. I hired them to work with me just to please my mom and aunt, but they’re complete screwups. I’m tempted to send them home now just so I can focus.”

“That’s nice of you to hire them,” I say, staring at my fork. All that confidence I had a minute ago is getting hard to hold onto. I can feel my self-esteem struggling to keep a smile on my face. I like this talk. I like being around him. I can’t let my stupid emotions get in the way and make me ruin this.

“We’re opposites that way,” I say with a smile. “I’m here alone and wishing I’d brought my friend who works with me. It’s boring being alone.”

He rests on his elbows, and I notice how sexy his forearms are. The muscles bulge out from his sleeves, which he’s rolled halfway up his arm. Damn, this guy is hot. I wish I could sneak a picture of him to show Livi.

“Well, I’m here all weekend,” he says with a grin. “If you get bored, feel free to grab me.”

I nod toward where his nametag had been earlier, but he’s not wearing it now. “You’re in real estate, right? I doubt you’ll have fun in any of the panels I’m going to.”

“I don’t know about that … real estate is similar to baking.”

I take a sip of my tea and hold back my silly grin. “Oh yeah? How so?”

He thinks about it a moment and then sits up straight in his chair. “Okay … well, I’ve got nothing. But that’s just because I can’t think properly when I’m dining with a gorgeous woman.”

I swallow.

Did he really just say that?

Oh God, I’m so glad this stupid restaurant is dark in here, or else he’ll be able to see the embarrassingly deep red my cheeks are turning.

He bites the bottom of his lip slightly. “Was that too much?”

I shake my head and tell myself to talk. Words! They’re useful tools, so use them, Alexa!!

“It’s totally fine,” I say.

The way he’s staring at me makes my whole body burn with lust. I know guys and I know how they’re typically wired – sex is all they care about. But there’s something different about Gabe. He’s looking at me like he enjoys what he sees. Like, I don’t know—like he appreciates it. Like he appreciates me.

The waitress brings his food out and we eat in silence for a little while, only talking randomly about small things. I’m dying to get back to that flirtatious banter, but it’s kind of weird to flirt when you’re eating a salad.

“So how’d you get into baking?” he asks me. I’ve been asked this question a million times before, and most people just say it to be polite. But Gabe looks like he’s interested in my answer.

“I’ve always loved baking,” I say, resting my fork on my plate because I’m done eating. “My grandma and mom used to bake all the time and they’d let me help, even when I was too young to be any good at it. Then, well I just never stopped. I got into culinary school and after I graduated, I knew I wanted to own my own bakery. I’ve never been so sure of anything else in my life.”

Gabe’s eyes shine from the glow of the fancy amber lights overhead. “That’s really amazing. Now I feel stupid telling you about my job.”

I laugh. “Tell me anyway.”

I don’t tell him I’d listen to him recite the dictionary just to hear his gravely, masculine voice. When he talks, my skin prickles in delight.

He tells me about how his grandfather started the real estate business back in the sixties, and then his dad took it over. But his dad is kind of an asshole and alcoholic, and ran the company into the ground, and it wasn’t until Gabe finished college and got his real estate license, that he decided to take over the crumbling family business and build it back up again. It’s really sweet listening to him talk about his grandfather and how much it meant to keep his company alive.

“Do you sell houses or business properties?” I ask. A while back, the building I rent for my bakery went up for sale and I had wanted to purchase it, but it ended up being way too expensive. No mortgage company would even consider lending me that kind of money. As it is, some corporation bought it and continues to rent me the shop space for a whopping two grand a month.

“We do both,” he says. “Commercial properties bring in the most money, but people always need houses, so we sell those, too.”

“Cool,” I say. There’s something else right on the tip of my tongue that I’m dying to ask. It’s just a few words but I can’t seem to manage to get them out.

Where do you live?

If I ask, and he tells me, then this night is over. He’ll obviously live too far away from Mable Falls, and all my dreams of living happily ever after with the man will shatter into a million pieces. Texas is a huge place. There’s no way he lives close to me. So instead of asking what I want to ask, I choose random questions about his job instead of his private life.

Our waitress walks past us carrying a tray with two cocktails on it that are made of red white and blue liquids that rest on top of each other like some kind of high school chemistry project.

“What is that?” I ask her.

“It’s our signature cocktail,” she says with a smile.

I look at Gabe and he grins. “Can we have two of those?”

“Sure thing,” the waitress says.

“I’m not much of a drinker,” I tell him as I take a sip of my sweet tea. “But those were just really cute.”

“Ah yes, I always choose my liquor based on its cuteness,” Gabe teases.

I throw my wadded up straw wrapper at him. With a swift motion, he catches it and throws it back at me.

I lift my eyebrows. “Nice catch.”

“Nice throw,” he says.

Our drinks arrive, and soon our conversation feels easier. I don’t ever want this dinner to end, even though we both finished eating half an hour ago. One drink turns into two, and then a third. This red white and blue thing is delicious. I’m not a huge drinker, so I can’t tell what kind of liquor it is, but the red tastes like cherry, and the blue tastes like blueberry and when Gabe laughs, I can see his tongue is a little bit blue too. When I realize that I’ve been spending the last few minutes picturing his slightly blue tongue in my mouth instead of listening to the story he’s telling me, I blush.

“Maybe three drinks is enough,” I say, pulling the straw out of my mouth. My third drink is mostly gone now, and his is empty as well.

“I’m not much of a drinker,” he says, running his hand over his hair. I want to touch that hair so bad. He grins. “I might be more of a lightweight than you.”

I smile. “Well, we can go out to the parking lot and give ourselves sobriety tests to see who walks in a straighter line.”

The parking lot is the last place I want to be, and for a split second, I think he might he thinking the same thing.

And then our waitress comes and drops off two slips of paper. Our bills for the evening.

Gabe swoops up both of them and places his credit card on top. “Dinner is on me tonight.”

My mouth opens to object, but then I think better of it. If a guy wants to do something nice for me, who am I to stop him?

“Thank you,” I say, hoping he knows I truly mean it. I’ve been single for so long, and the last time I went on a real date, the guy insisted that we pay for our own meals to keep it fair. It feels nice to be treated like someone special.

“Thank you for having dinner with me,” he says.

“You’re way better company than my phone,” I say playfully.

After he pays, we get up to leave, and I realize the alcohol might have been too much for me. I stand up and feel shaky, like the floor is moving just a bit.

“You okay?” Gabe asks, his voice soft. His eyes peer into mine as he puts a gentle hand on my lower back.

“I’m a little drunk,” I admit, but I put on a smile so he knows it’s no big deal. “Do me a favor and don’t let me fall in front of all these people.”

He chuckles and wraps an arm around me. I breathe in his delicious scent and secretly wish I was drunk all the time if it meant he’d hold me like this.

We walk out of the restaurant and toward the elevators.

“Which floor are you on?” he asks.

A delightful tingle zips through my whole body as I look up at him after the elevator doors close, encasing us inside. God, he is so sexy. I could strip him naked right here in this elevator.

“Ten,” I say, reaching into my back pocket for my hotel room key.

“I’m on the tenth floor, too,” he says with a grin. “Must be where they put the cool people.”

“It is,” I say, poking him in the stomach. “So how did you manage to get there?”

“Oh, I see how it is,” he says playfully. “You don’t think I’m cool enough for the tenth floor?”

I shrug, like I’m actually thinking it over. “I haven’t seen any evidence of your coolness yet.”

I love joking around with him like this. It makes me feel alive. Like someone who has adventures instead of a constant string of boring days. The doors slide open on the tenth floor, and I step out slowly, the motion of the elevator making me feel a little dizzy.

There are two directions you can go, and my room is to the left. I wonder if Gabe’s room is down here too, or if it’s to the right. He walks next to me though, stopping when I stop at my door.

“This is me,” I say.

“Drink some water and take some aspirin,” he says. “You wouldn’t want to miss out on a wonderful day of business panels tomorrow.”

I smile up at him. “Good advice.”

“Goodnight,” he says. He starts to walk away.

Just like that.

Like a gentleman.

Here I was thinking maybe he’d be some kind of jerk who wanted to talk me into sex or something. But he didn’t. He saw me safely back to my room and then told me goodnight.

Oh man, I am all about a guy with manners.

“Gabe?” I call out.

He turns back to me. “Alexa.”

“Can you come here for a second?” I ask, my voice a little higher than usual.

As he walks back, I slide my key into the door and push it open.

“What’s up?” he says.

“This.” I throw my arms around him and pull him in for a kiss.

For a terrifying second, I worry he’ll shove me away, tell me he has a girlfriend or that he’s not interested in me. But as my heart thunders in my chest, Gabe kisses me back. His strong arms wrap around my waist and hold me closely to him. I inch backward until we’re in my hotel room and then I kick the door closed.

I am not ready for bedtime just yet.