Chapter Eight
Gabby sighed. Her head dropped down and landed on something soft and warm and familiar; Prince's chest. He let her rest her head there. But only for a second.
She'd been so close. She could taste the scent of his toothpaste on his breath —cinnamon. But then he took a step back, and he was again out of her reach. At least this time it was only a few feet and not a few states.
She lifted her head and looked up at him. Prince scrubbed his hand over his face and into his hair like he was trying to shake himself awake. She wondered, was she a nightmare? Or dream?
His gaze connected with hers, and there it was. She hadn't imagined it. It was crystal clear in his hazel depths.
Prince wanted her.
It hadn't been a life lesson with her that night in the pool house. He'd done it because he'd wanted her. He just couldn't admit it to himself. He probably still saw her as a little girl. But she hadn't been a little girl for years.
She watched his jaw tense like a dog with a bone. He did that when he was working out a particularly tough problem. A flick of her eyes took her gaze to his right hand which clenched and unclenched, like he wanted a square cube to solve. He was trying to figure out the right steps to get to the outcome that he wanted. The outcome that would keep the distance between them.
Well, that wasn't happening. Gabby would just have to continue to keep him off balance. To do the thing he least expected so that he couldn't work through his process. At least not until she could convince him that she wasn't the problem. She was the solution.
So Gabby did the unexpected. She was the one who backed away from him. But not before she flicked her gaze downward again, this time towards the front of his pants. Looking down at the bulge in Prince's pants, she saw the last bit of proof she needed. There was no denying that bit of evidence.
They were meant to be. He'd figure it out sooner or later. But she would prefer sooner.
She'd been patient for three years. That was the longest she'd ever waited for anything in her life and she was done. For now, she walked away from him. She hadn't missed the half step he took toward her at her retreat.
Gabby turned in time to greet her father. "Hola, Papi."
"Hey, Princess Leia." Samuel Hernandez brought her into his arms and planted a kiss on top of her head. "How was the drive up? Diniece is still at the office. I made her promise to be home in time for dinner. Hey there Han. I figured you'd end up here sooner rather than later."
"I was just…" Prince began and stopped.
"Getting a taste of Gabby's cookies?" asked her father.
Sweat pooled at Prince's brown forehead and he visibly flustered. "No," he said forcefully. "She made me a sandwich."
"You didn't offer him any of your cookies?" Her father turned to her with a frown of disappointment.
Gabby couldn't hide her smile. "I tried to." She went to the counter, picked up the plate of sugar cookies and shoved them toward Prince. "I told Prince they were made especially for him, and they've been sitting around waiting a long time. He can take them home if he'd like."
Prince's jaw tensed again. His hand clenched and unclenched. Gabby only smiled. Then she turned over her shoulder and addressed her father.
"But he refused," she told her father. "I think he's on a diet or something."
"Since when does Prince say no to you?" Gabby's mother entered the kitchen. Valeria Hernandez sailed over to Prince and kissed him on each cheek. "What are they feeding you in D.C.? Seafood from that polluted water? You're skin and bones. I'm going to pack you a cooler for when you have to go back."
"Thank you, Mrs. H, but that's not necessary"
"Son," chuckled Mr. Hernandez, "You may have gotten away with denying one Hernandez woman, but no man gets away with denying two Hernandez women and lives to tell the tale."
"You're staying for dinner," Mrs. Hernandez insisted. "You just tell us what you want and we'll whip it up."
"Gabby already made me a sandwich," Prince pointed lamely to the forgotten dish.
"Okay, that's a start," said Mrs. Hernandez turning to the fridge. "What do you want on the side?"
Prince opened his mouth to respond but Mrs. Hernandez began pulling out vegetables and spices. Prince looked between the three of them. They had effectively boxed him in inside the kitchen. There was no escape.
He returned to his barstool as Gabby and her mother pulled out knives and pans.
"I'm so glad you're back Prince," said Mrs. Hernandez. "Maybe you can help the local police with handling all these incidents against minorities and immigrants."
"The rash of hate crimes has escalated since the governor's election," said Mr. Hernandez.
"That man," Mrs. Hernandez shuddered as she threw veggies into a sizzling pan.
Gabby had seen some news reports of Jewish temples being spray painted. She'd heard of school children using hateful language against minorities in their classes. She'd grown up in a fairly mixed neighborhood, but she still had to contend with stereotypes and prejudices even with her social status as the daughter of the district attorney.
"Shouldn't the Governor take responsibility for what people are doing in his name?" Gabby asked as she sliced into a red pepper.
"It's their actions," said her father. "He hasn't encouraged anyone to commit any violent crimes."
"What about with Christopher?" Her mom addressed this question to Prince. "With the race car accident? Humberto said the other team was shouting racial slurs, and that they had a swastika emblem on their car. I can't believe that's even legal."
"It's free speech," said Prince. "What I have to prove is intent; that the other driver intended to harm Crow due to his prejudices."
"How do you do that?" asked Gabby.
"The statements of racial slurs is a start. It would help to link the other driver to known racist or radical groups."
"So you'll need to infiltrate the racing team?" said Gabby.
"It's not that simple—" Prince tried, but Mrs. Hernandez cut him off.
"Isn't the driver who hit Christopher the son of the Governor's Chief of Staff?" asked Mrs. Hernandez. "Gabby, you were invited to play at a dinner there tomorrow night. You can take Prince. You two can go in undercover."
"That's actually not a good—" Prince tried again, but the Hernandez women were already concocting a plan. And then Mr. Hernandez jumped on their bandwagon.
"If you heard something while there as a guest, you could use that information," he said.
Prince looked between the three of them. Once again, they'd boxed him in. His gaze found Gabby's, and he shook his head. "I would never do anything to put Gabby in harm's way."
Gabby's heart swelled as his need to protect her shone fiercely in his eyes. Normally it would tick her off if he or either of their brothers' treated her with kid gloves. But in this instance, it worked in her favor.
"If there's anyone I trust with my daughter's well-being," said her dad, "it's you."