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I pull back. “You talked to my mother?”
“Of course. I wanted to make sure she was okay.”
He was worried about my mother? Oh God. This man is trying to make me fall for him. “She’s not okay. She’s not. She wants to give up the property. She said Grayson and Brandon are helpingher, but there’s not a better option. They won’t find one and she—she’s not good and I haven’t even told her about the legal issues.”
He cups my face. “There are no legal issues. I’m handling this. Trust me. I have a plan.”
“What are you going to do, Gabe?” I ask, alarm bells sounding in my head.
“Teach your ex a lesson. Teach them all a lesson.”
He’s going to end up dead, which means I have to handle this before he does, I have to end this. I’m going to have to do what I never wanted to do. There’s only one way to stop my ex. There’s only one way and I have to use it to protect my mother and now Gabe and his family. And I have to do it now. Which means I need to get away from Gabe for a while to make it happen.
Chapter forty-one
Abbie
Abbie
When Gabe kisses me and picks me up, carrying me toward the bedroom, I welcome the distraction. I don’t want to think about my decision to go to the dark side to deal with my ex. I don’t want to be in that thought. I don’t want to live in that deep cavern of darkness. I don’t want to be the person my ex is making me become.
And so, I let Gabe carry me down the hallway. I get lost in the two of us naked in the shower. I crawl into the passion and huddle down, deep and wild. I touch Gabe. I kiss Gabe. I free myself into the moment, no inhibitions. We have no inhibitions. I can’t get pregnant with this man. I can’t feel guilt with this man. I haven’t hurt him yet. He hasn’t hurt me. We’re in that raw and fresh and perfect place that can be damaged so very easily. It can go from rainbows and perfection to thunderstorms and earthquakes. Perfect can become imperfect. Perfect can even become poisonous. If I let it. I won’t. Not because of my ex. And not because of an outside force that should have no control over us.
When it’s over, we dress, sharing the intimacy beyond the naked passionate moments in the shower. I share his bathroom. We share this small space to dress. To get ready for what the rest of this day holds for us. And finally, we take Dexter for a walk and laugh about the silly dog who wants to turn the ocean into his next victim. It must be evil since it runs at him after all.
It’s almost lunchtime when we load into the car, and I call my mother to see if she needs anything. Apparently, she doesn’t. Her and the cowboy on the ranch, as well as the animals, are all just peachy. “Nothing,” I say, eyeing Gabe. “They had breakfast and lunch.”
“Then I vote for donuts as our breakfast and lunch. And coffee. More coffee for sure.”
I laugh. “And how do you stay in such great shape, if you eat burgers, fries, and donuts?”
“I work out and eat well during the week. You’ll get a variety of protein shakes to try with me later this week.”
Later this week. “Will I now?”
“If you stay with me tonight at my apartment like I want you to, yes, you will. Starting tomorrow, I’ll make you my famous strawberry pudding protein breakfast.”
He wants me to stay with him again? Do I want to stay again? For now, I focus on the promise of breakfast. “Strawberry pudding?”
“It’s delicious and healthy. You do like strawberries, right? Because if you don’t, this doesn’t end now, but it’s going to shake me to the very core. Really. Like, shake me right here.” He pauses at a stoplight and balls his fist over this heart, a playful gesture, the kind he hides behind, but I believe this is also a part of Gabe. He’s fun andfunny. He’s just not always that person. Sometimes there’s more. Sometimes there’s the pain he can’t quite hide from. I see this because I understand. I know what that feels like.
His expression darkens and he brushes my cheek. “What just happened?”
“Nothing,” I say, catching his hand, and it warms me that he notices my shift in mood. That he cares. It scares me how much I’m drawn to him, how easily I could fall in love with him. And I could. I stare into his intelligent, blue eyes that spiral into his complicated soul, and I know, I absolutely know how hard I’m falling. It’s snuck up on me.He’ssnuck up on me.
“Nothing?” he presses.
“You happened,” I say.
“You look sad. I don’t want to make you sad.”
“You didn’t. You don’t.” I grip his hand tighter. “You make me laugh and smile. You make me a lot of things that don’t include sad.”
Someone honks and I jolt. Seemingly unaffected, Gabe leans over and kisses me. “We’ll talk about all the things I want to make you feel later.Alone.” His voice is low, rough, sexually charged.
I’m sexually charged now, too. I’m perpetually squeezing my legs shut, as I am now, when I’m with this man, trying to calm the ache he creates in me. A good ache. The sweet kind of ache you both want to float around inside and sate, all at once.
A few minutes later, we’re in the donut shop and Gabe orders enough to feed the ranch, it seems. We stuff our faces and laugh about little stories he tells me about his time here in the Hamptons and all the snobby attitudes he forgives because of good donuts, ocean air, and a chance to escape the city in a short chopper ride.
