Long after Gabe left, my feet remained frozen to the kitchen floor. I would have been a complete statue of myself if I didn’t continue running my fingers over my swollen lips. Each time I did, I closed my eyes and thought of Gabe’s mouth on mine…his hands on my body…his tongue inside me. Just as I would flush with desire, mortification would once again crash over me.
As Aunt Sadie would say, I’d just behaved like a brazen hussy. I mean, how else would one classify my behavior? I’d allowed a man I’d known for less than a week to go down on me in my family’s kitchen. Sure, he was a talented songwriter known around the world who called me his songwriting muse, but he was still a stranger to me.
While I’d been an avid watcher of Sex and the City back in the day, I’d only managed to live vicariously through their liberated sexual escapades. The five men I’d slept with in my life had all been within the confines of either a relationship or long dating period. Well, there was that one-night stand with a Falcons player, but I was only twenty at the time. I had certainly matured and become much wiser since then.
“What the hell?” Kennedy demanded.
Coming out of my stupor, I whirled around to face my sisters. Kennedy’s wide gaze ricocheted around the room. “What happened?”
“Uh, I burned Linc’s brownies.”
Kennedy cocked her head at me. “Yes, I can smell that, but did a tornado blow through here as well?” She motioned to the floor where Gabe had swept the leftover ingredients and bowls to the floors before hoisting me up on the countertop.
“Gabe… He…” I pinched my eyes shut.
Ellie appeared at my side. “Did Gabe hurt you?”
My eyes flew open as I wildly shook my head. “No, no, no! It was nothing like that.”
“Then what was it?” Kennedy asked.
“I thought my vagina caught on fire, but it was the brownies burning,” I said absently.
Kennedy and Ellie exchanged a look. “Do we slap her or try to get some alcohol in her?” Kennedy asked.
With a scowl, I replied, “You don’t need to slap me.”
“Considering the state you’re in and the way you’re talking, that’s still debatable,” Kennedy said.
“While I don’t need slapping, I could use a drink.”
Ellie nodded. “Kennedy, grab the tequila from the pantry.”
“I’m on it.”
Steering me over to the table, Ellie said, “I think you need to sit down.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” I replied as I flopped down in one of the chairs.
Kennedy returned with the tequila and three shot glasses. Always one for extreme bluntness, she asked, “Did you guys fuck on the kitchen counter?”
“If oral sex counts as fucking,” I replied before throwing back the tequila. Oh shit. That was some extreme TMI I’d just unloaded on my sisters.
While Ellie’s eyes bulged in horror, Kennedy paused with her shot glass in mid-air. “Whose ass am I going to be bleaching off the countertop?”
“Mine.”
Kennedy bobbed her head. “He went down on you first. I like his style.”
“Excuse me?”
“Most men only reciprocate oral sex. They want you to blow them before they’ll eat you out.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I seriously hate that term.”
“What would you prefer I call it? Carpet munching? A c-swizzle? Eating the peach?”
Ellie slowly shook her head back and forth. “I seriously can’t believe I just heard those terms come out of your mouth.”
“It doesn’t surprise me at all,” I said as I reached for the tequila bottle.
Kennedy moved it away from me. “Easy there, Tex. Don’t you have to pick up Linc at Dad’s?”
I groaned. “Yes, dammit. I do.” It was one of those moments when I really loved my son, but I also really wanted to get shit-faced with my sisters while sharing my jumbled feelings about Gabe.
“Then no more tequila.” She jerked her chin at me. “Hurry up and spill it before you have to go.”
With a sigh, I proceeded to tell the girls how Gabe’s and my baking had turned into a smoking hot sexcapade that led to me letting the brownies burn, and in turn, how said sexcapade along with Gabe’s care and concern led me to emotionally shut down and throw him out of the house.
When I finished, I’d managed to render both my sisters momentarily speechless, which was a feat in itself. Covering my face with my hands, I moaned. “Great, you guys think I’m just as psycho as Gabe probably does.”
“No, we don’t,” Ellie protested.
“I think she’s a little psycho,” Kennedy replied. Then she grinned at me. “But I get where you were coming from. I mean, the fact that I had an affair with a married French man would be evidence of that.”
“How am I ever going to face him again?” I pondered.
“By communicating to him what you’ve just told us,” Ellie said sensibly.
I threw up my hands in frustration. “But I don’t know how.”
“Of course you do.”
“I think the fact that I’m twenty-six and still single would say differently. I’m just no good when it comes to men.”
“Just tell him you’re sorry for freaking out on him. You just panicked because things were moving too fast,” Ellie suggested.
“Then what? Ask him if we can go back to the way things were before he saw me naked and went down on me?”
Kennedy gave me an exasperated look. “Why on earth would you want things to go back to the way they were? You yourself said the man was a hell of a kisser, not to mention was he extremely talented at licking pussy.”
“While I’m not sure I would have actually ever said the term ‘licking pussy’, yes, he was extremely good at it—like the best I’ve ever had.”
“Then why go back to not being physical?”
“Because he has a job to do.” At Kennedy’s wicked expression, I said, “And it’s not to be my official pussy licker.”
“Ha, you said it.”
“Whatever.”
Ellie tilted her head thoughtfully at me. “Are you afraid if you guys keep going, Gabe might lose his songwriting ability again?”
“Something like that. I mean, things were rolling along perfectly well the way we were. He doesn’t need anything to complicate it, and we all know how much sex complicates everything.”
While Ellie nodded, Kennedy said, “But maybe what he needs now is some heat. Just because you guys start messing around, that doesn’t mean he’s suddenly going to be unable to write.”
“I just don’t want to rock the boat.”
“I’m pretty sure from what transpired here this evening, Gabe would be more than happy to rock your boat,” Kennedy mused.
“While somewhat misguided, I think Kennedy does have a point. You don’t know how Gabe is feeling about all this, which is why you have to talk to him.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll call him in the morning. Hopefully he hasn’t packed up and run back to Atlanta because his muse went crazy.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Ellie replied.
“What time is the bake sale?” Kennedy asked.
“Noon.”
Kennedy nodded. “I can throw something together by then.”
“You can?”
“While it’ll be a complete, pain-in-the-ass inconvenience, of course I can. You know I’d do anything for that kid.” She smiled at me. “And for you, Rae. I always have your back. You know that.”
I fought the tears that pricked my eyes. “Thanks, Ken. That means a lot.”
“Now go on and get our boy.”
“But the kitchen—”
“We’ll clean it up while you’re gone.”
“I can’t let you guys do that.”
Ellie smiled. “We’re family, silly. We always help each other out.”
“Even if the other was practically fornicating on the kitchen counter?” I asked.
Kennedy snorted. “You sound just like Aunt Sadie, who, truth be told, probably has completely fornicated on that counter.”
“Ew,” Ellie and I shrieked. While I was aware of Aunt Sadie’s sexual past, I certainly didn’t want to think of her doing it, least of all in the same place where I had.
After grabbing my purse and keys, I said, “On that note, I’m out of here.”
* * *
When my alarm went off the following morning, I fought the urge to pulverize my phone. While I might’ve had only one shot of tequila with the girls, I’d snuck the bottle into my room after I got home from picking up Linc. I’m not sure what it says about my state of mind that I wanted to drink on my own. It was actually pretty pathetic, now that I thought about it.
Three shots later, I’d stumbled over to my bed, and I must’ve passed out because I was still in my clothes.
“Fuck me,” I grumbled as I pried myself off of the mattress.
Although I’d left Gabe with no reason to possibly text me, I still checked my phone to see if he had. Nope. Nada. Nothin’. Since I’d promised my sisters I would call him, I took a deep breath before texting, Hey. I know we need to talk. Just name the place and time, and I’ll be there.
I sat there staring at the phone for a few minutes. I kept hoping I would see the little dots telling me he was texting me back, but they never appeared. With a grunt of frustration, I threw the phone over my shoulder before trudging across the bedroom floor and out into the hallway.
Thankfully, I found the downstairs bath empty. I knew I wasn’t going to feel human again until I washed the alcohol stank off of me. Stepping under the scalding steam of water, I sighed. I had no idea what I was going to do about Gabe.
Even after the pep talk from Kennedy and Ellie, I still couldn’t imagine facing him again after freaking out like I had. Surely, he had to have been completely turned off from me since I’d left him with both physical and emotional blue balls. He was Gabe Renard, for fuck’s sake. He had women throwing themselves at him, and he certainly didn’t need to waste his time with a head case like me.
Once I’d showered and gotten my makeup on, I headed back across the hallway to my bedroom. Instead of going to the closet to find something to wear, I made a beeline for the bed—specifically for my phone, which I’d tossed onto the bed. My heart plummeted when I still didn’t have a response from Gabe.
Trying to talk myself out of the abyss, I said, “He’s probably still asleep. He told you himself he’s normally not a morning person.”
Yeah, that was my story, and I was sticking to it. Pushing Gabe from my mind, I went about the rest of my morning ritual, including prying Linc from bed and downing a scorching cup of espresso.
Once Linc was finished with the scrambled eggs and bacon Kennedy had made for him, I asked, “Come on and get your things. Since we’re running late, I’m going to let Papa know I’m dropping you off at school on the way to work.”
“Okay Mom.”
I stopped him in the doorway. “Do you have all your homework?”
“Yep.”
“Your lunch money?”
“Yesss.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it—your mother is sooo lame for trying to make sure you have your shit together.”
Linc laughed. “Yep, pretty much.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Then let’s go.” I’d started out the door when Linc grabbed my arm.
“Wait—what about my brownies?”
Ugh. Time to come clean. I’d gotten a small reprieve the previous night when Linc had fallen asleep on the way home, and I’d steered his drowsy ass to bed without any explanation of the brownies. Thanks to Kennedy and Ellie cleaning up for me, there wasn’t any physical evidence either.
“You know, it’s a funny thing about the brownies.” Yes, ladies and gentleman, I was about to tell a complete lie to my child. “When I went to Blair’s to get the mix, they were completely out.”
“They were?” Linc questioned, his brow wrinkling. I could almost see the bullshit meter inside his head going off.
“Yep, and when I tried to make them from scratch, it turned into a big mess.”
“Is that why the kitchen smelled so bad last night?”
My eyes bulged. “I thought you were too sleepy to notice.”
“It reeked of something burnt.”
“Sadly, that would have been the brownies.”
“Oh,” he replied. My heart plummeted at the same rate as his face.
“But don’t worry, Aunt Kennedy is whipping up something extra super-duper special for me to bring for the bake sale.”
“It won’t be your brownies.”
Forcing a smile to my face, I countered, “I’m sure it’ll be ten times better than my brownies. Aunt K graduated from Le Cordon Bleu cooking school while your ol’ mom here can barely make macaroni and cheese out of the box.”
When Linc didn’t reply, it felt like a knife twisting into my heart. I wasn’t sure why mommy guilt had to be so damn painful. More than anything, I wanted him to yell at me, to throw his book bag while hurling an obscenity or two, but no, he remained quiet.
Feeling like an utter and complete asshole, I motioned for him to go on out the door. “Let’s get you to school, sweetheart.”
He nodded and then did a pitiful little trudge out the door. When I glanced back at Kennedy and Ellie, they both had downcast faces. “I promise I’ll bring the best damn brownies I can make,” Kennedy said.
“Thanks,” I muttered before doing my own version of Linc’s pitiful trudge. We made the drive to Hayesville Elementary in complete silence. I kept imagining this would be the day Linc told his therapist about, the one when he lost all faith in his mother, or maybe it would be the story he told his substance abuse counselor after my negligence sent him down a path of drug and alcohol abuse.
Instead of pulling into the carpool line, I eased into one of the parking spaces. While I could have called to inform the school about my utter fuck-up, I decided it would be better to tell them in person, not to mention the fact that I didn’t want Linc walking into school empty-handed.
Of course, I should have remembered that at his age, my very existence was a complete embarrassment to him. He reminded me of that fact the moment I started following him into the building. “Seriously, Mom?” he hissed, his horrified gaze bouncing from side to side to check if anyone had seen.
I held up my hands. “My bad. You go on in.” As he hurried away from me, I called, “Have a great day!”
I’m pretty sure he cursed me under his breath, but I decided to ignore it. Drawing in a deep breath, I walked inside the front lobby. I spoke to several of the parents I knew, many of which I’d gone to school with myself. It was pretty rare for anyone new to move into Hayesville.
When I got to the cafeteria, it was buzzing not only with the many kids who ate breakfast at school, but also with the moms setting up for the bake sale. Craning my neck, I searched the room for Pricilla Parton, the president of the PTA. I finally found her at one of the tables in the far corner of the room.
“Morning, Cilla,” I said.
She whirled around, iPad in hand. At the sight of me, her eyes widened before a beaming smile lit up her face. “Well, hello, Rae.”
“Listen, I have some bad news about the turtle brownies I was supposed to bring—”
Pricilla’s auburn brow creased in confusion. “Turtle brownies? But you brought all that fabulous cannoli?”
I blinked a few times at her. “I’m sorry…what?”
“When we arrived this morning, we found five pans full of homemade cannoli. It had yours and Linc’s names on it.”
An awkward laugh bubbled from my lips. “Come on, Cilla, you’ve known me since our kids started school here together—would I even remotely know where to begin to make one cannoli, least of all five pans?”
Shrugging, Pricilla replied, “I just assumed Kennedy made them.”
“No, she didn’t. She’s back at her shop right now trying to whip up some kind of replacement brownies.”
“Then who sent all the cannoli in your name?” Pricilla questioned.
I sucked in a breath so fast I wheezed like a deflated balloon. “Oh my God,” I hissed as it hit me just exactly who had saved my ass. I whirled around and searched the room for him. When I didn’t see Gabe, I remembered what Pricilla had said about them finding the cannoli when they arrived. Gabe wouldn’t have wanted to be seen at the school for all the craziness it might cause. Oh God. I had to see him—like, immediately.
Slowly, I started backing up from her. “Um, I’ve got to go.”
“Wait, will you be back at noon to help with the sale?”
“Yes. I’ll be here.” I then turned and practically sprinted out of the cafeteria. At any moment, I expected some hall monitor to yell at me or threaten me with detention. Thankfully, I made it to my car without getting in any trouble.
When I slid inside, my hands were shaking so hard I could barely crank up. Gabe had outdone himself this time. Even though I’d pushed him away and practically thrown him out of my house, he’d still gone out of his way to do something so considerate for me and for Linc.
God, if I hadn’t already been starting to seriously like this man, this was the gesture that would have sent me over the edge. But, as I drove down Main Street, all the voices of doubt chattered in my head. It’s too soon. It’s too fast. He’s just passing through.
Shaking my head, I tried shaking myself free of the voices. I didn’t want to deal with any of that right now. All I really wanted to concern myself with at the moment was getting to Gabe. I screeched into the driveway of the Grandview on two wheels. After throwing the car into park and killing the ignition, I once again broke into a run. When I burst through the front door, I screeched to a halt in the foyer. I was panting so hard I had to bend over at the waist to catch my breath.
“Reagan? Is that you?” Rejune questioned from the parlor.
“Yes. Mrs. Paulson,” I huffed.
“Are you all right?”
“I’ve been better.” With my breathing regulated, I straightened up to face her. “I’m here to see Gabe.”
“I’m not sure Mr. Renard is receiving visitors at the moment.” She lowered her voice. “I just heard the shower cut off a little while ago.”
“I’ll only be a minute.”
A knowing expression came over her face. “Why I’m sure a strong, strapping young man like him takes far longer than a minute.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m just here to talk, Mrs. Paulson.”
“If you say so.” When I started for the stairs, she said, “Why don’t you wait down here while I call up to his room to ask if he wants to see you?”
“I can find the way myself, thank you.” While she continued to protest, I hurried up the two flights of stairs to the third floor. Although there were four doors to choose from, the strumming of a guitar helped steer me to the right room.
Rapping my knuckles on the door, I called, “Gabe?”
A screech came at the guitar strings. After a few moments, the door opened, and I gasped at the sight of Gabe before me. Rejune had been right about the shower—Gabe’s hair was soaking wet, and he had a pale pink towel draped around his waist.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I muttered. We stood there for a few moments before I said, “Nice towel.”
Gabe grinned as he glanced down at his waist. “It would appear that Rejune has a fondness for all things pink. I haven’t been able to find a white towel or one without flowers the entire time I’ve been here.”
“It’s a good look on you.”
“Har har.”
Okay, Rae, get a grip and cut the flirty comedy routine. You came over to thank Gabe for saving your ass with the cannoli in spite of your insistence that you didn’t need his help. I cleared my throat. “Listen, I just came from Linc’s school.”
The corners of Gabe’s lips pricked. “I assumed as much.” He held out his hand to me. “Do you want to come in?”
With a nod, I slipped my hand into his and let him pull me into the room. After he closed the door, he led me across the room to an overstuffed couch. “Have a seat while I go get dressed.”
“You don’t have to do that on my account.”
He brows popped up. “Does that mean you prefer me half-naked?”
I laughed. “I meant, I’m not going to stay long, so you don’t have to get dressed if you don’t want to.”
“I think it’s best if I did.”
I got Gabe’s meaning immediately. Even after me pushing him away the night before, the sexual tension remained thick between us. I’d already fended off two imagined dirty scenarios of ripping off his towel and blowing him or ripping off his towel and then riding him like a crazed cowgirl.
I forced a smile to my now dry lips. “Yea, that’s probably best.” As Gabe started out of the living room and slipped into the bedroom, I got quite the view of his sculpted bare back. I fought the desire to run my fingers over the colorful ink splayed across the corded muscles. Once again, I found myself rolling my eyes and huffing in aggravation at my sex-crazed thoughts about Gabe. The last thing I needed at that moment was to give myself over to my desire for him.
When Gabe reappeared, he wore a red t-shirt that stretched across his heavily muscled chest. While his jeans weren’t indecently tight, they certainly highlighted his wide thighs. Although it looked like he had toweled his hair dry a bit, it was still somewhat wet.
Sitting down next to me on the couch, Gabe asked, “Did you come here to tell me off?”
“Excuse me?”
“Because I went behind your back and took the cannoli to the school.”
I widened my eyes at him. “Are you kidding me? I came here to thank you, like, eternally and from the bottom of my heart. I’m still in shock that you went to all that trouble. I mean, where did you possibly find cannoli here in the backwoods, least of all after nine o’clock?”
Gabe chuckled. “I called in a favor from a buddy of mine in Atlanta.”
“You went all the way to Atlanta last night?” I screeched.
With a shrug, Gabe said, “Yeah. Why?”
“That’s like five hours on the road.”
“It gave me time to think. I also made a few phone calls, listened to part of the new Stephen King book.”
I shook my head. “Now I feel even worse.”
“Don’t do that.”
“But you went to so much trouble.”
“Because I wanted to.”
Cocking my head at him, I asked, “Why, after you did something so wonderful for me, did you think I was here to tell you off?”
“I knew I was taking that risk after you made it very plain to me last night that you didn’t want my help.” Gabe shook his head. “But I couldn’t help it, Rae. I felt like I had to do something because it was partly my fault for distracting you and letting the brownies burn.”
At his reference to distracting me, warmth flooded my face. “Yes, you were quite good at distracting me.”
The smoldering look he gave me sent me squirming in my seat. “I would say I was sorry about that, but I would be lying,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.
“Regardless of what happened, I wouldn’t want you to be sorry for that—ever.” I drew in a breath. “Me, on the other hand, I have a lot to be sorry for, starting with the way I freaked out on you.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
My mouth dropped open. “You do?”
“I may not have known you for long, Rae, but I do know what kind of woman you are.”
“And what kind is that?”
“The type who normally doesn’t almost have sex with a stranger.”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s pretty much me. I mean, after the time we’ve spent together this past week, you’re not a stranger. It’s just…you’re not someone I’m actually dating.”
“And I get that. I really do.”
“You do?” I repeated.
“While I’m sure you think the sex fiend in me is pissed we didn’t get to finish what we started, that’s not what upsets me.”
Gabe’s responses continued to surprise me. “It’s not?”
“I got mad because you shut me out. You dismissed me like I couldn’t possibly help you.”
Wincing, I ducked my head. “I know, and it was wrong of me to do that. You were just being nice and trying to help me, and I freaked out and acted like a psycho.” I peeked up at him. “Outside of my father, I’m not used to having a man help me.” Every other man has let me down. That’s why I can’t trust men.
“I understand. I guess it’s just going to take time for you to trust me.”
“Yes, it is. I wish it didn’t have to be that way, but I…” The truth was, my trust issues had begun even before I’d been so badly burned by Ryan. It went all the way back to when I was a three-year-old little girl, waking up one crisp September day to find my mother was gone. As the weeks turned to months, there was a reason I only trusted my dad, my sisters, and Aunt Sadie: they’d never left me. They’d never chosen something or someone over me.
But, Gabe hadn’t had any part in what my mother had done so many years ago. I couldn’t fault him for my past. I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. Staring intently at him, I added, “But I am willing to try.”
“So am I.”
I jerked my chin at his guitar. “Were you working on something new?”
Shaking his head, Gabe replied, “More like polishing one from earlier in the week.” Reading what had to be my extremely curious expression, he asked, “Would you like to hear it?”
“I’d love to.”
With a nod, Gabe picked up the guitar. “For the record, I’m not the best singer in my family.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re a fabulous singer.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Gabe began strumming the tune I’d heard when I got to his door. “Trapped inside these walls, I made a prison all my own. Lost and confused, I was always so alone,” he began. While Gabe didn’t have an amazing voice, I instantly fell in love with its coarseness. He was like a cross between Bruce Springsteen and John Cougar Mellencamp.
Closing my eyes, I focused on the lyrics floating through the air. For someone who had claimed to be unable to write, Gabe had penned a breathtakingly raw love song about a man who was saved by the love of a woman. Tears pricked my eyes at the haunting quality of the tune.
When Gabe sang the last note, I didn’t know what to do. Considering how amazing the song was, it seemed cheesy to clap for him. Instead, I opened my eyes to let him see my tears. “Wow,” I murmured.
Tilting his head at me, Gabe asked, “Wow as in ‘Wow, that was a load of crap’ or ‘Wow, that was amazing’?”
“I can’t believe you even have to ask for clarification. Don’t the tears in my eyes tell you enough?”
“You could be crying because of how awful it was,” he countered.
I swiped my eyes. “Well, I’m not.”
A pleased look flashed in Gabe’s eyes. “It was really that evocative?”
“Oh Gabe, it’s beautiful. I love the symbolism of the man being a prisoner of his own insecurities, which causes him to be incapable of love—and then he finds the woman who sets him free.” I swept my hand to my heart. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“You know, you’re the first person to hear it outside of my family. I played it for Abby and Eli the other day.”
“What did they say?” I asked tentatively.
He grinned. “The same kind of things you did.”
I playfully nudged his leg with mine. “Then why did you doubt yourself?”
His expression slowly darkened. “Because I remain in a constant state of crippling self-doubt,” he said in an agonized tone.
I fought the urge to stare at Gabe in disbelief. I couldn’t believe the words that had just come from his mouth. I doubted anyone outside of his parents or siblings had ever heard them. He was so reluctant to share personal things about himself, but this confession made him appear very vulnerable before me, and my heart instantly went out to him.
“That seems to happen a lot to creative people, doesn’t it?” I questioned softly.
“It’s our cross to bear.”
“I wish I could take it from you—the self-doubt. Then you could have a clearly untainted few of how insanely talented you are.”
“What you said just now—that’s the other reason I wanted your opinion. You’re a fresh ear, someone who isn’t in the business.”
“I don’t know why you would want to listen to me. They’re the ones who know and understand music.”
“But you understand the emotion. Without an understanding and an appreciation for the emotion, a song is just a piece of music.”
“And that’s bad?” I questioned.
“To me it is. I want it to be an experience. When I write, I want my songs to be ones that take you back to a time or place or bring you comfort when you’re going through a really difficult phase.”
“That’s so intense,” I murmured.
Gabe chuckled. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never met anyone who thinks as deeply as you do.” I shook my head at him. “It’s truly inspiring to hear you talk about songwriting.”
“You’re the inspiring one. Without you, this song wouldn’t have happened.”
“But how?” I murmured.
His lips curved into a smile. “Don’t you get it, Rae? You are the song. You’re within each and every line of the lyrics.”
I wanted to argue with him that the beautiful meaning conveyed in the words of his song couldn’t possibly be about me. I wasn’t any of the things the heroine was—I didn’t breathe life back into his dying body, didn’t free him from the prison he found himself in.
As if he could read my mind, Gabe said, “Yes, you did.”
Overcome by the emotion of the moment, I found myself stripped of the ability to speak. Although a myriad of emotions swirled in my mind, I couldn’t find a way to string them together. Instead, I closed the gap between us on the couch and threw my arms around Gabe’s neck before dipping my head to bring my lips to his.
I poured everything I couldn’t seem to say into that kiss—all the appreciation and the longing, all the gratitude and the wonder.
When I finally willed myself to pull away, I stared into Gabe’s hazy eyes. “Thank you for that,” he said as he brought a hand up to cup my cheek.
“You don’t have to thank me, silly. I’m the one thanking you—or at least I was trying to with my kiss.”
“You did a damn good job.”
I smiled. “I hope so.” I could have stayed like that—wrapped up with Gabe staring adoringly at me—for the rest of the morning, if not forever, but my phone ringing in my pocket took us out of the moment. As I dug it out, I didn’t have to look at the display to know who it was.
“Hey Dad,” I said.
“Where are you?”
“And hello to you, too.”
“It’s after nine. You’re never late.”
As Gabe teasingly shook a finger at me, I rolled my eyes. “Today’s the bake sale at Linc’s school. I had to stop by there.”
“Well, we’ve got an insurance adjuster here to look at that totaled Suburban.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.”
“See you in a few, sweetheart.”
“Bye.”
When I turned back to Gabe, he smiled at me. “You have to go.”
“Unfortunately.”
He swept a loose strand of hair back from my face. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect for you to be able to stay. You do have a job and a life.”
Something in the way he looked at me made me sad. “I wish I could.”
“I know.”
After nibbling on my lip, I said, “You could come by later, if you wanted to. I have to go work the bake sale from noon to one, but after that, I’m free the rest of the day.” I laughed. “Well, as free as one can be at their job.”
Surprise filled Gabe’s eyes. “I thought you didn’t want me hanging out at the shop because I would stir up the men and confuse them about what’s going on between us.”
“They can say what they want to.”
He grinned. “I see.”
“Does that mean you’ll stop by?”
With a bob of his head, he replied, “Just as soon as I catch a nap.”
I grimaced. “Once again, I’m really sorry you lost sleep last night.”
“Trust me. This”—he motioned between us—“made it all worth it.”
“I hope so.”
When I started to get off the couch, Gabe pulled me back down against him. Cupping my face in his hands, he leaned in and kissed me. Although I could tell he wanted it to be more just as much as I did, he somehow managed to maintain his restraint. When he pulled away, he smiled. “See you later.”
“Sweet dreams.”
“They will be if they’re about you.”
Sweeping a hand to my hip, I said, “I said sweet dreams, not sex dreams.”
Gabe laughed. “Someone is pretty sure of themselves if they think I couldn’t have a dream about them without it being about sex.”
“I’m just speaking from experience.”
When Gabe’s eyes bulged, it was my turn to laugh. He popped off the couch like a jack-in-the-box. “You had a sex dream about me?”
“Maybe.”
He growled. “Don’t be coy now.”
“Fine then. You were very good in it. Does that make you happy?”
“Like how good?”
I waggled my brows at him. “Like I came in my sleep kinda good.”
A cocky smirk curved Gabe’s lips as he puffed his chest out. “So I was that good?”
I am so not answering that. “Now don’t go getting a big head. Just like with morning wood, women can have orgasms without any sexual stimulation.”
Gabe’s hand reached out to slide around my waist. As it started to dip down over my ass, he said, “I’m going to call bullshit on that.”
Pushing out of his reach, I wagged a finger at him. “It’s true. You can Google it.”
“I’m not saying the orgasm thing isn’t true—I’m calling bullshit that it wasn’t me who made you come.”
“Maybe. I guess we’ll never know.”
“We’ll just have to rely on the orgasms I give you when you’re awake.”
Yes, I’d be really happy to rely on those too. “I guess so.”
Tilting his head at me, Gabe asked, “You don’t sound so certain about that.”
“Oh, I’m certain about the orgasms you’ll give me.”
He grinned. “Okay, then what’s the problem?”
You, Gabe. But really, it wasn’t him—it was me. I hadn’t slept with anyone for the sake of sex alone since I was in my early twenties. I’d grown not only older since then, but also wiser. I wasn’t sure I could transition back to those early days, although Gabe had brought me awfully close to no-strings-attached sex—pun intended. I didn’t know what was the right way to tell him that while I wanted to slow down, I didn’t want to turn him off.
“I’m just not so sure I need them any time soon.”
“Ah, I see. You’re talking about putting the brakes on any more sexcapades.” Bingo.
I giggled. “Sexcapades? Seriously?”
“I’m pretty sure what we did on your kitchen counter last night would be considered a sexcapade.”
“Hmm, you’re probably right.”
“Of course I am.”
“Okay, Mr. Cocky, you still haven’t said whether you’re okay with slowing things down.”
“While I would prefer for us to stay in the fast lane, I’m totally fine with easing up a bit.”
The breath I’d been holding whooshed out of me in relief. “Thank you.”
With a wicked grin, Gabe waggled his brows. “You’d really be thanking me if I made you come.”
I rolled my eyes. “And on that note, I’m out of here.”
Gabe responded by playfully smacking one of my ass cheeks before pulling away. “I’ll see you later.”
After giving him a quick peck on the lips, I hurried out of the room. When I got to the top of the landing, Rejune scrambled off the bottom step where she had apparently been craning her head to eavesdrop.
When I passed her to go to the last landing of the stairs, I faked zipping up my jeans. “Have a good one, Mrs. Paulson.” I winked. “I know I will.”
Rejune’s face flushed blood red, and I had to duck my head to keep from laughing. I wondered if I would even make it back to work before people in town heard the latest gossip of how Reagan Hart was fornicating with the out-of-town country star in broad daylight—and on a Tuesday.