Chapter Seven
Apparently Elle hadn’t outgrown her thing for bad ideas. And every time she thought things couldn’t get any more complicated, she tumbled down another step and lost a bit more dignity.
Which would explain why she was in a filthy bar, desperately trying to win a game of pool against a man who obviously knew his way around a billiards table. She should just leave. Call a cab and go back to the gallery and her safe life. Walking through the front door of this bar had been a mistake in the first place. So why was she still here?
Elle pushed the thought away and leaned over the table, sighting down her cue stick. She took her shot, breaking the triangle of balls neatly. A solid ball tipped into the corner pocket. Good. She preferred solids to stripes. It was a foolish superstition, but one Elle had never been able to shake despite her brother constantly laughing at her.
Moving around the table, she gave Gabe a pointed look. “You’re in my way.”
He tipped his beer back, and it was everything she could do not to watch the way his throat worked as he swallowed. No man’s throat should be so sexy. His shirt shifted, a sliver of ink peeking out of the neckline. Yum.
Good lord, what was she thinking? Just because she still wanted him didn’t mean she could get lulled into this whole thing. She hadn’t been thinking, which was the problem. Elle botched her next shot, hitting the cue ball too hard and scratching. Damn it, she had to concentrate.
Gabe played billiards like a pro, pocketing a ball and lining up the next shot in one smooth move. He cocked an eyebrow broken by a thin scar. How hadn’t she noticed that before? “I’m going to enjoy that kiss.”
Warmth surged beneath her skin, and Elle had no doubt she was blushing. “In your dreams.” Okay, that would have been a lot more convincing if she didn’t sound so freaking breathy.
“You have no idea.”
He didn’t sound like he was joking. She took a deep breath and forced her mind to still. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the next shot. She’d win this game and get the heck out of here. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with Gabe and his brutish ways.
Salvation came in the form of her phone ringing. Or that was what she thought until she recognized the twang of the ringtone. Her mother. God, it was like she could sense when Elle was getting into trouble. With a sigh, Elle held up a finger. “A moment.”
Gabe shrugged. “Take all the time you need.”
Nice of him, but no way did she plan on being on the phone longer than necessary. Elle started to head outside but changed her mind. She seriously didn’t want to be alone out there in this neighborhood. Resigning herself to Gabe hearing the whole darn conversation, she answered. “Hello, Mom.”
“What could you have possibly been doing that it took you so long to answer?”
That was her mother, always assuming the worst. It didn’t help that in this case she was right. “I was just away from my desk. What did you need?”
“Can’t I just call to talk to my darling daughter?”
Considering she never called “just to talk” Elle didn’t buy that for a second. “Of course, Mom. How are you?” She caught herself before she leaned against the wall—God only knew what she’d pick up from the stained wood.
“I’d be a lot better if you’d agree to go out with Sammy.”
Not this again. Elle rubbed a hand over her mouth. “You know how I feel about him.” Sam Masterson Jr. was a lecherous little freak, and last time she’d been forced into dinner with him, he’d tried to stick his hand up her skirt. For some reason, though, her mom couldn’t see anything but a potential son-in-law. It probably helped that Sam Masterson Sr. owned the largest car dealership in town.
She glanced over to find Gabe resting against the pool table, watching her. Of course he wasn’t even pretending not to eavesdrop. He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles bunching with the movement. And that ink. Lord help her, but Elle could barely resist the urge to run her fingers over it.
As if she could sense Elle’s thoughts, her mother sighed, the sound perfectly calculated to instill guilt in her children. For some reason Elle’s brother never seemed affected, but she couldn’t shake the need to make things right. She spun away from the distracting sight of Gabe and rushed to fill the silence before her mother asked about the decidedly barlike sounds in the background. “I already told you, I’m interested in someone else.” Someone who certainly wasn’t Gabe. Because she wasn’t interested in him. At all. She’d wanted Nathan, even if there was no way anything would happen with him now—not with Gabe in the picture mucking things up—but she was desperate to avoid another encounter with Sam.
“Well, Elle, you’ll forgive me if I have doubts about your taste. I swear, the only boy you’ve chosen to bring home was…less than impressive. And you certainly have turned up your nose at every man I’ve set you up with since.”
Elle bit her lip, and tried to stay calm. “I’ve got to go, Mom, the phone’s ringing. I’ll talk to you later.”
Another sigh. “If you insist.”
“Good-bye.” Elle hung up before her mom could come up with something else to harp about.
When she turned around, Gabe was watching her with an unidentifiable look on his face. “Family troubles?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Standing here with this man in this sad excuse for a bar only brought home the truth. Her mother was right. Elle had terrible taste in men, and Gabe would just be another black mark against her. “Take your turn.”
“Sure thing.” When his next turn hit at the wrong angle, he only grinned. “Have fun with that shot.”
It wasn’t an easy one. She was penned in on three sides by stripes, but Elle had been practicing banking. Leaning down, she froze when she caught Gabe staring down her shirt. “Stop it.”
“Can’t blame a man for looking when the view is so nice.”
“Yes, actually, I can.” Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him. She checked the angles and hit the ball, nearly cursing when it flew wide. That wouldn’t have been the hardest shot she’d ever made. She should have managed it. Would have if Gabe wasn’t running his mouth and she wasn’t still frazzled by her mother’s call.
Gabe walked around the table, passing close enough that his chest rubbed against her back. “Distracted, babe?” His breath brushed her ear, sending waves of tingles through her body. Unforgivable thoughts crowded her brain, images of him pressing her against the pool table, kissing her, holding her close while she came undone in his arms.
She already knew how that ended with guys like him, though. With cheating, lies, and tears.
Screw this game—she was getting out of here now. Elle slid away, making a beeline for the rack where the cue sticks went.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m done playing. I need to get back to work.” Her hand shook as she fitted the stick into its place. Curse him a thousand times over for bringing her to this dump and then trying to bully his way into a kiss. He was a Neanderthal and she wanted no part of his games. Elle turned around and nearly shrieked when she ran into Gabe. “What the hell?”
“Hell, babe? Careful there, that’s almost a curse word.”
She started to inch away, but there was nowhere to go—at least not without rubbing her entire body against his. No way in heck Elle was going there, not when her idiot nipples perked up at the very thought. She gritted her teeth. “Stop calling me that.”
Gabe leaned in, kissably close, and grinned. “Make me.”
There was a part of her—a small, pathetic part—that wanted to close the distance and kiss him. The rest of her was spitting mad. “Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”
“Or what? You’ll curse at me again? You forfeited, which means I won. I want my kiss.”
“Fat chance of that happening.”
Gabe pressed a finger to the underside of her chin, tilting her face up. Elle commanded her body to move, to slap him, to run, to do something other than stare helplessly at his mouth and sway toward him. His lips weren’t overly full, but they were perfectly shaped. The kind of mouth that brought to mind wicked, wicked thoughts—thoughts a woman like her had no business contemplating.
Elle forced herself to speak. “Please.” The word came out soft, nearly begging. What was she begging for? For him to let her go? To pin her against the wall and ravish her? Even she wasn’t sure.
His lips brushed against hers, sending shocks through her system. Had she convinced herself that her reaction before was a fluke? It couldn’t be. Not when the barest brush of his mouth had her reeling. Before Elle could do something stupid like wrap her arms around him, Gabe shook his head as if throwing off a trance. He dropped his hand and took a step back, breaking contact. “Let’s go.”
“Go?” Why was she arguing this? She should be thrilled he was backing off.
Those dark eyes saw far too much. “You owe me a kiss, but I’m not taking it until you want it.”
She already wanted it. A whole lot. Elle forced a harsh laugh. “As if that’ll ever happen.
He leaned in again, so fast she flinched. “Keep up the attitude and you’ll be lucky if I don’t make you beg for it.”
“I don’t want you. I never will.” But already she’d gotten close to proving him right. Too close. Elle propped her hands on her hips and tried to stir up some righteous indignation. “Can we just go?”
Exactly what she’d wanted in the first place, despite the disappointment simmering in her stomach. Elle followed him to the bar, earning some nasty looks from the women as Gabe leaned over and handed the guy his credit card.
“What are you doing?”
He didn’t even spare her a glance. “Paying for lunch.”
She started to demand for him to let her pay half, but gave it up for a lost cause. Why bother? He wasn’t going to listen anyway. So she waited silently while he paid, then trailed behind him like a lost puppy when he led the way back outside.
She blinked in the afternoon sunlight, wondering if she’d tumbled down the rabbit hole when she climbed the stairs to Nathan’s loft on Saturday. This certainly felt more like Wonderland than her carefully planned reality. Which was wrong. So very, very wrong.
Everything in her life was balanced perfectly. It didn’t have a place for freaky dive bars and men with so much testosterone she could barely breathe past it. Even though he and Nathan were similar looking, everything about Gabe still seemed too big, too male, too uncontrollable. He was the type of man who left a trail of women broken and weeping behind him—women like her. Elle wanted no part of it.
Forget the lost puppy act. She marched to the passenger door, getting there before he could open it for her, and slid into the seat. The leather stuck to her skin, adding to the claustrophobic feeling. She had to get out of here—away from this place that smelled like grease and stale beer and cigarette smoke—and back to her clean and orderly existence.
Gabe started the car and threw it into gear. They flew out of the parking lot and raced through the streets, breaking more than a few traffic laws in the process. Even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t talk to him anymore, Elle couldn’t let this stand. “Slow down, please.”
“What?” He blinked as if he’d been a thousand miles away. Fantastic. He was mentally wandering while risking her life and limb.
Maybe she should just keep her mouth shut, but… “You’re going nearly fifteen miles over the speed limit.”
“That’s a problem for you, I take it. Christ, babe, don’t you ever let your hair down? If you did, it’d probably help with the stick you have shoved up your ass.”
Elle gaped at him. There’s no way he’d just said that to her. What kind of man talked like that to his date? “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
A shadow flickered in his dark eyes before he turned back to the road. “My mother’s dead.”
Damn it, she’d known that. Nathan didn’t talk about his family much, but Ian had once mentioned that both his parents were deceased. Elle let her head fall back against the headrest and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? Not like you killed her.”
Her eyes flew open and she glared at him. “Do you have to be so crass? You know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter—none of this matters.”
Gabe shook his head and flipped on the radio, turning it up as death metal screeched through the speakers. He didn’t want to talk anymore? Fine with her. Elle would be happy when this disaster of a date was over.
They roared through downtown, jerking to a stop across from the gallery’s door. Elle shoved open the door as he reached for the volume, determined to get out before Gabe said something else to make her even angrier. She slammed the door and strode around the front bumper, barely resisting the urge to flip him off. It wasn’t something she’d normally even consider, but this man seemed to bring out a part of her she’d never known existed.
He leaned out the window. “I’ll see you around.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” Elle crossed the street and pushed through the front door, feeling his gaze boring into her the entire time. It didn’t matter. It was over and if she had her way, she was never going to see Gabe Schultz again.