I can’t believe you still ride.” A measure of awe filled her voice as Steph circled his bike.
Standing several feet away, hands stuffed in his pockets, Gabe grunted in acknowledgment. He’d become caught in watching her. When he’d suggested dinner, his intention had been to distract her. Her innocent comment about change had brought up the ugly reminder that at some point he was going to have to talk about his leg. Going into this date, he’d known the subject would have to come up, but having to tell Steph, given everything they’d shared and the way their relationship had ended, only made it harder.
Then they’d come out here to the parking lot. She’d taken one look at his bike and grinned so wide it had nearly split her face in half. God, of all the women Military Match could have paired him with, it had to be her. She was still gorgeous, too. The same flirty smile that made her eyes light up. The same supple curves and firm, tight ass. Her dirty-blond hair fell past her shoulders now, thick and straight, and he itched to sift his hands through it, for the luxury of feeling the soft strands slip through his fingers. He knew every spot on her long, slender neck that made her shiver and every spot on her body that made her moan. Hell, there wasn’t an inch of her his mouth hadn’t skimmed at some point.
Now here she was, standing before him like temptation itself. How many times over the years had he wished for this moment? That he’d have the chance to tell her all those things he should have told her years ago?
Steph glanced back at him as she stroked her fingers over the black leather seat, following the lines of stitching. “Whatever happened to that bike you had in college?”
He shrugged. “Sold it and upgraded.”
“Can’t see you with flames, though.” One corner of her mouth hitched upward as she traced her fingers over the orange and red flames on the tank. “I always saw you as a simple kind of guy. Just black and chrome.”
Gabe chuckled as another, more recent, memory filled his mind. The day he’d bought the bike. It had been the first anniversary of Julia’s death, and he’d wanted to do something positive for Char by letting her help him pick out the colors and designs. She’d insisted it needed flames. “Those were Char’s idea.”
Shit. Heart hammering like a freight train, he dragged a shaking hand through his hair. He hadn’t meant to tell her about Char yet, hadn’t even thought about when or how to tell her. He hadn’t a clue what to expect from his date tonight, whether or not she’d have a problem with him being a single father, and had hoped he could put the conversation off until later. Like with his leg, though, telling Steph was a whole other ball of wax. It came with a story instinct told him she wouldn’t like.
Steph, as usual, didn’t miss a beat. As she rounded the front wheel, her gaze flicked to him, her brows raised in curiosity. “Char?”
His stomach lurched. He’d have to face this eventually. Now, he supposed, was as good a time as any. So he put on the proudest smile he could muster and prayed for a miracle. “Short for Charlotte. My daughter.”
Her eyes widened with surprise, like it was the most absurd idea she’d ever heard. “You have a daughter?”
Dread sank in his stomach like a heavy lead weight. Was that good or bad? “Char’s ten. She came as quite a surprise to me, too, when I found out. Now I can’t imagine my life without her.”
Steph blinked, stared for a beat, eyes searching. Waiting for her reaction tied his gut into knots on top of knots. Was she doing the math? Figuring out that Char had been born almost exactly a year after he’d left Seattle, a mere two months after the last time he’d seen her?
She didn’t slap him or turn around and storm off, the way he’d always envisioned. The way he deserved. Rather, she smiled. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it rang with sweetness all the same. “Look at you all grown up. Got any pictures?”
“Later. Come on. I’m starved.” He unstrapped the spare helmet and handed it to her, then swung a leg over the seat and pulled the bike upright, releasing the kickstand.
He had a dozen pictures of Char packed into his wallet, but he had no desire to show her. At least not now. When he did, she’d invariably ask where Char’s mother was, and he’d have to tell her. He didn’t want to think about Julia right now, let alone talk about her. If he had to explain this now, the guilt would eat at him. He’d make an excuse and go home. He wanted things with her he wasn’t sure were his to want. Companionship. Sex.
Memories of their time together taunted him. When he’d arrived ten minutes ago, his nerves had been in his throat. Standing beside the lake, searching the darkened path for his faceless date, he wasn’t sure he could even do it. A date yes. That was easy. But sex?
And then he’d caught sight of Steph. Right then he only knew two things for sure. She was still gorgeous, and her smile still lit a flame in his gut. For now that had to be enough. Oh, he wanted her. Even eleven years later, it was still there, the desire that had drawn them together in the first place. It was the sensual glint in her eyes, and he ached to dive into her, simply to lose the grief and loneliness his life had become in her sweet, soft body. Let her soothe his soul the way she had once upon a time.
Because she had. It was what had always made him feel so guilty every time he thought about her over the years. What kind of husband did that make him when he’d thought about someone he’d shared so much with while married to Julia?
He also couldn’t give her forever now any more than he could in college, and Steph deserved better. Always had. For now he’d concentrate on catching up with a friend.
When she didn’t climb on behind him, he turned his head. She stood staring at him, melancholy filling her blue eyes. Whatever went on inside that pretty little head of hers scared the hell out of him, because the desire to ask, to fall back into old routines with her, was strong. It had always been so easy with her.
So he held out a hand instead. “You coming?”
She nodded, put on the helmet and fastened the chin strap, then accepted his hand and climbed on behind him. For a split second she froze, then rested her chin on his shoulder. Her hands slid around his rib cage exactly the way they used to. “I missed you, you know.”
The same melancholy he’d seen in her eyes filled her voice and hit him square in the chest. He had the sudden, overwhelming desire to stroke her thigh, the way he might have once upon a time, for the simple need to connect with her. Instead, he took a moment to pull out his keys.
“Time got away from me. I always meant to catch up with you, but life got…busy. Molly went to college, and after Char was born, I enlisted…” He shrugged, the words he knew he needed to say clogging his throat. He had so many things he’d always sworn he’d tell her if ever he had the chance. That he’d never realized how important she was to him until she was no longer a part of his life, because he’d been too damn caught up in himself, in all those lofty plans he’d had for his career.
How sorry he was that he hadn’t kept in touch. She’d been his best friend, and he’d simply let her go. Of all his regrets, Steph was a big one.
“It’s okay.” She patted the side of her seat. “Come on. Start this beast. I want to hear it growl. We can catch up over dinner.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, they sat in a booth at a small Thai place a few blocks from the park, waiting for dinner to be served. Across from him, Steph sipped a tiny porcelain cup of jasmine tea. Gabe attempted to focus on her and not the busy restaurant around him. Since he’d left the service, his PTSD had lessened to a large degree, but he still had trouble with busy crowds.
Steph set her teacup on the table and folded her hands together, her blue gaze piercing and intense. “You always were a brooder. From the looks of you over there, you haven’t changed much. What’re you thinking?”
He grimaced and dropped his gaze to his own, untouched, cup of tea. Apparently, he wasn’t holding it together very well. Some date he was.
“I’m sorry. The restaurant is full, and being in a crowd still makes me a little antsy. They seated us in the center of the room. There’s nothing solid behind me.” He shrugged, trying to play it off, to not sound as pathetic as he felt. “It’s still an instinct to want to protect my back.”
Not sitting with his back to the wall had every nerve ending pulsing like a live wire, and his senses expanded, homed in on every damn sound around him. Every chink of silverware or sudden burst of laughter was a grenade going off. It made his head pound and his heart hammer like a freight train.
She smiled. “Don’t worry, big guy. I’ve got your back.”
The knot in his gut relaxed a fraction. He’d always loved that about her, her understanding, forgiving nature. “I appreciate that. I have to admit I also haven’t done this in a while. I have no idea what to say to you.”
She glanced down, twirling the ceramic cup between her fingers. “So is this officially a date, then? I’d just assumed we were old friends catching up.”
“I’m not altogether sure. Either way, eleven years is a long time.” And there was a lot of water under this bridge.
“Well, for what it’s worth, you’re not alone there. I’m not sure what to say to you, either.” She lifted her tea, peering at him over the rim as she took another sip. “Can I ask why you’re here? Why a dating service, I mean?”
He let out a quiet laugh, grateful for the subject change. That, at least, was an easy question. “Because Char and Molly tell me it’s time.”
She stared at him for a beat, shrewd eyes working his face. Seconds later, her eyes filled with an empathy that caught him in the chest. “You lost someone.”
His whole body tensed as he tried to prepare himself for the reaction to come. The one reaction that, while kind and expected, still felt like pouring salt into an open wound. “My wife died three years ago.”
Steph put a hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with the exact look he’d feared: the pity and concern. “Oh, Gabe…”
When her hand shot across the table, he yanked his out of reach and clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. “Don’t.”
If one more person told him how sorry they were he’d come unglued. All the sorry in the world didn’t bring Julia back or make it any easier to pick up and move on. Molly was right. It had been three years. He wanted—needed—to move on. Knowing that didn’t make it easy. Even three years later, he still had trouble.
Grief squeezed at his chest, so tight he had to force himself to inhale. Right behind it came the anger he didn’t know what to do with, the desperate desire to put his fist through something. Seated across the table from Steph, of all people, only compounded the guilt eating at his stomach.
Steph stared for a moment, then pulled her hand back slowly. She sat stiffly, looking down at her tea. “I’m sorry.”
He blew out a pent-up breath, forcing himself to release the emotions along with it. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. Obviously, it’s still a sore spot. It’s really hard to forget and move on when people give you that look.”
She glanced up, eyes full of remorse and understanding. “You still miss her.”
“’Cause that’s what you want to hear your date tell you, right?” He let out a bitter laugh and shoved shaking fingers through his hair, pulling his bangs off his forehead. “Sorry, Steph. I’m not sure this was a good idea.”
The waitress arrived then, and tense silence rose over the table as she set their plates in front of them. Steph dug into hers and Gabe followed suit, grateful for a moment to collect himself. Except they ate in silence for too damn long. The Panang curry he’d ordered was good, the sauce smooth and creamy with a slightly spicy kick, the chicken tender. Not that he cared.
Finally, Steph set down her fork and sat back. She studied him, her shrewd gaze, like always, seeming to see right through him. After a moment, she set her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers. “Can I ask you something?”
He picked up his fork and concentrated on stirring the pile of rice into the spicy sauce on his plate. He hated avoiding her, but he had no desire to know what played in her eyes or discover what she’d seen in his. “I just bit your head off for being nice. I’m pretty sure that earns you the right to ask anything you want.”
She remained silent a moment, but her intense gaze burned into him. Finally, she reached across the table, laying her hand over his wrist. “Gabe, look at me.”
He blew out a heavy breath and did as she asked. He owed her that much at least. What he found in her gaze, however, wasn’t what he’d expected. Her brows furrowed, blue eyes stern. A look he well recognized. Steph was about to get her lecture on. God, she really hadn’t changed.
She squeezed his wrist. “It’s okay.”
He gripped his fork tight in his fist with the frustration winding through him. “No. It’s not.”
Never one to be deterred, she pulled her hand back, only to set it on the table, palm up. What she wanted was clear as day, but damned if he could bring himself to set his hand in hers. It would be a connection, not only to another human being, but to her. A woman he’d relied on once, whose body he’d know by feel in the darkest of rooms. It didn’t matter how many times he told himself it was okay, normal even. After all, Julia was gone; she’d want him to move on. Had told him as much. It still felt like cheating.
Steph wiggled her fingers in insistence.
He gave in. When her soft fingers closed around his, something inside of him sighed, the relief so profound the tension in his chest finally eased.
She set her other hand on top, encompassing his fingers in the warmth of hers. “It’s okay.”
He frowned and shook his head. “I still don’t agree, but thank you. You had a question.”
Her thumb stroked his palm. Idle. Torturous. That single stroke shuddered through him, lighting up every nerve ending along the way, and for a moment he could only stare at her slender fingers. It had been so long since a woman had touched him that way. With tenderness. With care. It filled a need he’d forgotten about and created a dozen more. Christ. Did Steph have any idea how badly he needed that touch?
“Now, how ’bout you give me the real reason you’re here.”
Her softly spoken comment pulled him out of his reverie, and he looked up at her. He found himself answering honestly and praying, somehow, she’d understand. The way she used to. “Ever want something you can’t pin down?”
A slow smile slid across her face. “Yeah.”
He focused on her familiar blue eyes and let them give him the courage to say what he needed her to know. “Molly’s been bugging me. She says it’s time I moved on, and to a certain extent, she’s right. I don’t do well on my own. The nights…”
He shook his head, at a loss to explain any further, and shifted his gaze to the other side of the restaurant, watching for a moment as a waitress set plates in front of an elderly couple. How the hell did he explain something that didn’t make much sense to him either?
“Are too long.”
Steph’s words drifted across the table at barely a murmur, but she might as well have shouted them. Surprised once again by the understanding in her tone, he turned his head. Having released his hand, she now dug through her pad thai noodles, her gaze on her plate, but her cheeks flushed. Only someone who went to bed alone every night could possibly understand the loneliness it left in your chest. To know she went to bed that way set his teeth grinding together. Earlier, he’d been too surprised at discovering she was his date to really think about it. Then he’d gotten lost in the past.
Now a million questions filled his mind. Like why she wasn’t married yet. Or why she needed a dating service in the first place. It also relit that flame in his gut. The desire. He longed to fall into her again, to wrap his body around her and lose himself in her touch. Despite hoping otherwise, he hadn’t expected to feel desire for his date tonight. With Steph, that fire flared all too easily. The problem was, he wasn’t sure he could be anything she needed.
Which meant that wherever this night led them, whatever her expectations for this date, she deserved to know where he stood.
He folded his hands on the table. “You asked earlier if this was a date. I suppose I should be honest with you. I’m not looking for anything permanent.”
She looked up, brows raised in surprise. A beat later she sobered, offering him a soft smile. “Relax, Gabe. No pressure. Tell me about your daughter.”
He scooped another bite of the curry and stuffed it in his mouth, using the task to try to cool his jets. He didn’t want to talk about Char. All he could think about was Steph, about how badly she made his cock ache.
It was time to distract her or he’d lose his mind.
“Your turn. Why the need for a dating service?” He darted a glance at her as he scooped another forkful of the curry. “Sorry, but I just can’t see it. The Stephanie Mason I knew was an incorrigible flirt.”
Her fork paused halfway to her mouth. She held it there for a moment before setting it down on her plate. “You want the truth or the fluff version?”
He gave a half-hearted shrug. Hell, let’s go for broke. “The truth.”
Her gaze locked on his, bold and unapologetic, but her throat bobbed.
“I’ve done the whole one-night fling thing for too long now. I want…something different. I want someone who’ll remember my name, who wants more than just a night of great sex.” Just as quickly as her boldness had come, she dropped her gaze to her plate, pushing her food around but never really accomplishing anything. “Someone worth waking up to.”
The hurt she couldn’t quite hide seeped into her tone. Irritation punched him hard in the stomach and bristled along his nerve endings. He’d always hoped she was happy and settled. Obviously, there was a wound in there somewhere, and he had the sudden urge to deck the asshole responsible for it.
“And you haven’t.”
Like someone had drawn the shades over her, the look disappeared. Steph straightened in her seat and forked a bite of noodles but wouldn’t look at him. “Not yet. Truth is, I haven’t allowed myself to.”
He followed her lead for the moment and concentrated on his plate. If she wasn’t comfortable sharing, he wouldn’t push. They ate in unbearable silence, and the knowledge slowly drove him insane. He hated the thought of someone hurting her to the degree that she’d closed herself off. It was a lonely way to live.
Unable to stand it, he set down his fork and looked up at her. “Why haven’t you?”
She stared at him for a beat, then made a show of pouring herself another cup of tea, stirring in a teaspoon of sugar, then taking a sip. Finally, she shrugged.
“I made a fool of myself for a man once. For a while I was determined never to make that mistake again. But it’s lonely, and I hate sleeping alone. Hate waking up to a stranger even more.” She set down her tea and pinned him with a direct, focused stare. “Your turn. What did you hope to get out of this date?”
“I wanted…something in the middle. A first step. I’m not sure I’m ready for something permanent again yet, but I’d like something more than a one-night stand. I’m human. I don’t like being alone, either.” He huffed a laugh. “Sex might be nice. You know, with someone besides myself.”
For the second time that night, the words left his mouth unbidden, and Gabe’s gut clenched. He dragged a hand through his hair. Christ. Eleven years might have passed, but apparently she still had it, that certain something he’d never been able to resist that had him telling her all his damn secrets.
A slow grin curled across Steph’s face, lightening the heavy emotion in her eyes. “There’s that painfully blunt guy I used to know.”
His cheeks blazed, but he couldn’t help his echoing grin. “What? I thought we were being honest.”
She laughed, so long and hard she sagged back against her seat. Gabe sat stunned, watching her. Her whole face lit up. The warmth radiating from her like the freakin’ sun drew him in like a bee to a bright yellow flower.
Steph’s giggling died away. She dropped her gaze to her plate, a soft pink flush suffusing her cheeks. “You’re staring.”
He jerked his gaze to his plate, pushing the food around. “Sorry. I forgot how beautiful you are when you laugh like that.”
He’d forgotten a lot of things about her. Like how much he enjoyed the simple act of sitting in the same room with her. For a few minutes she made him forget the lonely ache in his chest. Here, with her, he was simply a man out for a night with a beautiful woman. He didn’t know a lot of things these days. Like where this date ought to go, or even where he wanted it to go.
What he did know was he didn’t want to be sitting here, holed up in this crowded, noisy restaurant, when he could be doing a thousand other things with her.
Running with the thought, he set down his fork and met her gaze. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Steph blinked. Then she furrowed her brow and shook her head. “Where to?”
“Beats the hell out of me. I’m not even sure I care, but I have a sore need to get lost for a while.” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet, pulled out his debit card, and raised his hand, flagging down their waitress. When she smiled in acknowledgment, he turned back to Steph, holding his hand out, palm up, on the table. “Get lost with me.”