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She rewards me with a laugh and my soul sings for that sweet, sexy sound. It sings for her. I’m fucking singing for her in all kinds of ways that a man like me should be calling nuts, but I’m not. I’m in deep with this woman, with no regret but I wonder… if she knew my past, would she feel the same?
Chapter twenty-nine
Abbie
Gabe grabs my coat from my suitcase without me reminding him and he has now had the hired SUV pull right up to the door. I try to remember a time when Kenneth was that protective and thoughtful, but I can’t. It had to have existed, though. I married the man.
A warm blanket of awareness settles around myself and Gabe as we claim our spots in the back of the hired SUV with Dexter on the seat next to Gabe. The driver, an older man with a goatee and a strong New York accent, greets us. “I’m Joe,” he announces. “How you doing?” I plan to answer, but then I realize that he’s not talking to us. He’s talking to Dexter, which has me and Gabe sharing a smile.
“Come on up here, pal,” Joe invites, and Dexter, showing no serial killer tendencies at all, happily claims his spot. “We need supplies for that pooch,” Gabe announces. “Can you stop by the store?”
“You got it, man,” Joe says, rubbing Dexter under the chin, while Gabe’s hand comes down on my knee, pulling me closer.
I glance up at him, and we share this look that I can’t explain. It’s connection, attraction, friendship and desire all wrapped up in one. It’s us and I’m finding us to be incredibly addictive.
A few minutes later, we pull into a small grocery store. “I can watch the pooch,” Joe offers, “if you’s like to go on in.”
Gabe glances at me, looking concerned, lowering his voice to speak to just me. “He can get mean.”
I reach up and cup his cheek. “I’ll stay with him. You go buy your supplies.”
“What if he is mean to you?”
I laugh. “I can handle him, I promise.”
He hesitates, but he nods. “I’ll be fast. Where’s your phone?”
“My phone?”
“I want to be sure you have my number in there.”
His number in my phone. Of course, I need his number in my phone. Even if we were just having sex. I hand him my phone. “Should I put it in as Gabe or some nickname we can use when we’re naked, like Big Gabe or—”
I elbow him. “You’re bad.”
He wiggles his brows and finishes inserting his number in my phone. “Bad Gabe it is.” He hands me my phone. “Call me so I have your number.”
“Okay.”
“Now.”
I call him. He pulls his phone from his pocket and saves the number. Once he does, he shows me his phone that reads “Redheaded Goddess aka Abbie” as the ID. I laugh. “You.”
“Hmmm,” he murmurs, leaning in and kissing my cheek, his breath a warm tease on my neck, his lips by my ear, “Most definitely you,” he whispers, before he exits the SUV, leaving me with goosebumps and tight nipples, neither of which are from the cold gust of air from the winter night. I want him. I always want him. I want him like I have never wanted before.
I sink back into the seat and as much of a worrier as I am, instead of thinking about all the trouble that came our way tonight, I think about Gabe—just Gabe. His smile. His jokes. His Big Gabe reference. His body, God, what a body he has. All that hard muscle and the way he wears a suit. Heck, the way he wears a T-shirt. His lion tattoo that I want to hear more about. Who am I kidding? That I want to touch and lick. His intensity beneath the surface. His secrets. I do want to know his secrets, but I don’t think he wants me to know and I get it. I have my own. I have a past that’s become shameful in so many ways but it’s all rooted in things he already knows about me. I can’t help but wonder what Gabe dreads me knowing about his past, and he does. I feel that. I sense that.
I’m still thinking of nothing but Gabe when he returns and has Joe pop the trunk. I twist around to find an insane number of bags being loaded and when he joins us again, Dexter goes nuts. Gabe rewards his happiness with a treat. “I’m armed now,” he says. “Treats. Food. Bones. Even a bed the size of Texas.” He shuts the door and nods at Joe in the rearview window. “We’re a go. You have the address, right?”
“Got it,” Joe confirms and we’re off.
Gabe’s hand comes down on my leg and he leans in and kisses me, his lips warm despite the cold wind he just left behind. The natural way he reaches for me, warming my heart, the romantic in me trying to take over, trying to smash my “just sex” declaration as fast as I’d made it. “I needed you in there,” he says, further reeling me in. “I’m out of practice with the whole dog owner thing. You’ll have to help me shop all over again in the city.”
“Does this mean you’re adopting Dexter?”
“You think the owner of the shelter will approve me?”
I laugh. “I can put a word in for you. I think you have a good chance.”
