“The fuck am I doing?” I mumble, but I keep going to the front door. I’ve never felt my heart beat this fast.
I ring the doorbell when I’m close, and it takes a while for someone to get it, but I wait. I spot a shadow from the sidelight windows, and then the door swings open.
Gabby is standing on the other side of it, wearing a pinkish-looking dress that stops at her ankles. There’s a slit in the dress that reveals one of her slim, tan thighs. She looks good in it.
She’s smiling when she answers the door, but as soon as she sees me, it fades, and her eyes grow wider.
“Surprised?” I smirk.
She blinks rapidly. “Marcel! I…uh…I didn’t think you’d make it!” She starts tucking her hair behind her ears, like she suddenly has to fix herself up for me.
“Gonna let me in or what?”
“Oh—yeah. Duh.” She steps aside, and I walk through the threshold. I peer around, and there are a few people sitting on the couches. Several more are in the kitchen.
“The landscaper made it!” I hear someone yell, and I look toward the staircase. Gabby’s husband is walking our way with a beer in hand. “I’m surprised you came. Gabby told me you probably weren’t going to make it.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it.” I keep my voice even with him. I still don’t like the bastard.
“Well, I’m glad you did, now everyone can meet you. Can you remind me of your name again?” he requests.
I want to punch him in his smug face. “Marcel.”
“Ahh—yes, that’s what it is! You can call me Kyle tonight. No need for formal names.”
I nod, but I don’t smile. Fuck him and his basic-ass name.
“Marcel, we’ve got beer and drinks in the kitchen. Any preference?” he asks over his shoulder.
I look him over in his expensive button-down shirt and high-water pants. Is that supposed to be the style now? Because he looks like a bitch.
“I’ll take a beer.”
Gabby shifts on her feet, following Kyle to the kitchen. I follow their lead, already hating the decision I made to come here.
“What do you have?” Gabby asks me when Kyle opens the cooler in the corner, shuffling through the ice. She’s standing a good distance away, but even so, I can smell her. She smells like honey and sweet cream.
“Oh.” I place the bag on the counter and pull out the bottle. Gabby’s smile drops almost instantly. “Jose Cuervo Silver. Always reminds me of good times.”
She looks from the bottle of tequila to my eyes. I’m testing her, and she knows it. I just want to see if she still wants me, is all. Then I can know whether I’m wasting my time or not.
She’s not falling for it, though. Instead, she takes the bottle from me and carries it to the counter where other bottles of liquor are lined up.
“That was nice of you,” she chimes. “Perfect for almost Cinco de Mayo.”
“Here you go.” Kyle hands me a beer. I take it, glad it’s a twist off. He walks away to talk to other guests, but not before giving Gabby a kiss on the cheek and telling her he’ll be back. I look away, sipping my beer.
“Who is this?” a shrill voice asks. I peer over my shoulder, toward the double doors. A girl with light-brown skin, dark hair, and gold hoop earrings walks inside with a plastic cup in hand. She’s looking me up and down, her eyes wide, burning with curiosity.
“T, this is our landscape designer, Marcel. Marcel, this is my best friend, Teagan.” Gabby introduces us formally, looking even more nervous.
I extend my arm, offering a hand to her friend. “Nice to meet you.”
She takes my hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Landscape Designer.”
“Didn’t realize you had a best friend.” I focus on Gabby.
She shrugs. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
Yeah. Clearly.
“Well, there’s a lot I do know about you,” her friend says to me. “Now I see, Gabby! Now I see!”
I fight a smile. “Pardon?”
“Teagan,” Gabby hisses, and her face is turning a light shade of pink. “Stop it. You’re drunk.”
“Not quite. But close.” Teagan grins at her best friend before focusing on me again. “You did a great job back there. The patio is amazing! Everyone loves it!”
“Appreciate that.”
“Is this the designer?” A rich Spanish accent comes from across the room, and the woman I saw in the pink heels trots our way.
“Yes, Mamá. This is the designer,” Gabby sighs. “Mamá, Marcel. Marcel, this is my mom.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, and I see where Gabby gets her looks from. She’s like her mother, almost the same body size, hair, height, and everything. They’re petite women.
“Wowwww!” She’s sing-songs the word, looking me up and down more than once. She looks at Gabby and says something in Spanish, which embarrasses Gabby even more.
“Okay—guys, you know what?” Gabby holds up her hands, as if calling for an intermission. “Let’s give him some space. He just got here, so let him get comfortable.”
“You can call me Mariana,” her mom goes on, ignoring everything Gabby just said.
“Will do.”
“Your accent is the coolest thing I’ve heard, honestly,” Teagan informs me. “It’s dope.”
“Again, I appreciate that.”
Gabby knows they aren’t going to back off, so she goes to the counter, pouring herself a glass of wine. Kyle is back in the kitchen at her side, watching her make it. He says something to her. Again, I look away. If I look away, I won’t get mad.
As Mariana and Teagan pepper me with questions about my company and how long I worked on Gabby’s patio, I notice Gabby leave. She’s following Kyle out the double doors. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this shit up—watching her follow after him like some lost puppy.
For the majority of the night, I handle it, though. I’m introduced to a lot of her friends and family. I meet her brother and father, who seem like good guys.
Her father asks me how long I’ve had the company, how long I’ve been around, and other things. The brother is quiet, letting his dad do all the talking, but the way he stares at me is unnerving. Almost like he knows something about me that no one else does…or like he’s onto me.
Gabby’s father commends me on the patio work just like everyone else, and then I meet several people who work with Kyle. They’re all assholes. Even Mrs. Aarons is here, the woman who lives across the street from Gabby. I did her home a few months ago, and she tells me how happy she is that she hired me, but not without running her hands up and down my chest and shoulders a dozen times. She’s always been very handsy.
I’m surprised Kyle’s parents aren’t around, but I overheard him talking to Gabby’s father about how they had to attend a charity event in Hong Kong.
Through it all though, I’m stealing glances of Gabby. I can’t help it. For one, she looks fucking amazing in that dress. And every time she laughs, I feel the need to gravitate toward her. Too bad her husband is right on her ass, hardly letting her breathe.
A small bark sounds up and I hear light panting. I spot something white running around and then the white spot is right next to me. I laugh as Callie jumps up, her front paws on my leg.
“Ohh!” I laugh. “Look at you! Bigger since the last time I saw you!” I bend down and scratch behind her ears. “You been good? Huh?” She does another little bark, like she’s trying to talk back.
“She never does that to me when I’m home,” Kyle remarks, and I look up, spotting him and Gabby coming my way.
“She does, you just never pay attention to her. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?” Gabby coos, and Callie runs to her. Gabby picks her up in her arms while Kyle shakes his head, then sips his beer.
“Not a fan of dogs?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“I like them, but I’m not keen on owning one. Shocked me to see Gabby had one when I arrived home.”
“I sent you a picture,” she tells him, like that settles the debate.
He laughs. “Yeah, which was also completely unexpected. I thought it was a picture of the neighbor’s dog until I read your message.”
She rolls her eyes, then places Callie down. Callie trots over to my foot, and lays right on my boot, panting away. I smile, but when I look up and see Kyle glaring at Callie, my smile fades. His eyes shift up to mine, a spark of confusion within them, then he looks away, taking another swig of beer.
The song changes, and Teagan is doing her own dance by the wet bar.
“I really appreciate what you did out here.” Kyle is looking at me again. “Everyone loves it.”
“It was no problem.”
“No, seriously. Worth every penny. I was skeptical at first, but you proved me wrong.”
I try so hard not to narrow my eyes at him. He really has the nerve to act like that email he sent me never happened? This guy is a joke.
“Like I said, it was no problem at all. Just did my job.” And fucked your wife while I was at it.
Kyle nods, then flips his wrist to check the time. “Getting late, huh?”
Gabby shrugs.
“Let’s start cleaning the kitchen up a bit.”
Kyle wraps an arm around her waist, reeling her closer to him. He turns with her, and she glances back at me before going to the door with him. Her eyes tell it all. She hates this just as much as I do—the position I’m in, anyway. My chest is tight as I watch them go, and I literally hate everything about it.
I take a seat in the built-ins, and from where I am, I can see clearly into the kitchen. They left the doors open—I’m assuming to keep the party atmosphere flowing. I wish they’d shut it.
My grip tightens around the neck of my beer bottle as I watch Kyle run a hand over her ass. My jaw clenches when he kisses the back of her neck, then moves around to kiss her cheek, his body flush to hers. He turns her to face him, interrupting her collection of the plastic cups on the counter, and she sighs as he cups her face in his hands and kisses her roughly. It’s clear to me that she’s fucked him recently, and I have no idea what I expected. I’m an idiot for thinking she’d quit sleeping with her own damn spouse.
Anger brews inside me. I snatch my eyes away, looking to the right, but my eyes meet a pair of familiar caramel-colored ones. Gabby’s brother, Ricky, is looking right at me, brows bunched together. I jerk my eyes away from him too. Why the fuck does he keep staring at me?
I need to go. Now.
I head to the kitchen, glad Kyle is in the living room picking up trash.
“I think I’m gonna head out,” I say to Gabby.
“Really? Already?” She’s disappointed.
“Yeah. I just…I need to.”
She locks her gaze on mine. She has no idea how badly I want to be right next to her, feel her smooth skin under my palm. She also has no idea how badly I want to rip Kyle in half for touching her. I sound like a fucking fool. He had her first—he married her, for Christ’s sake.
“Let me walk you out,” she offers.
I almost start to say that’s not such a great idea, considering how I’m feeling right now, but then again, I would like a moment alone with her, even if it’s only for a second.
Kyle goes back outside, yelling for Ricky to change the song to a better one. He starts picking up trash out there too. I breathe a sigh of relief.
Gabby dries her hands off on a paper towel and then walks around the counter, going past me. I’m glad Kyle went back outside. Don’t feel like faking farewells with that motherfucker.
We head out the door, walking up the cobblestone driveway quietly. She’s right beside me, taking slow strides, barely looking at me. The streetlights hit us as we walk across the street to get to my truck that’s parked under a tree.
“Did you have fun?” She finally breaks the ice, looking up at me as we reach the driver’s side. I’m parked between streetlights, and we’re mostly in the dark.
“It was all right.”
“Just all right?” She’s biting a smile.
“Yep, just that.”
She lets out a short sigh. “You didn’t have to come. I would have understood if you hadn’t.”
“Needed to.”
“Why?” Her head tilts.
“You already fuckin’ know why, Gabby. Don’t play games with me right now.”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. I’m so tired of her rolling her damn eyes. I grab her upper arms, bringing her to the door and lightly pinning her back against my truck.
“You’re jealous,” she pants after studying my face.
“Damn right.”
My chest is on hers, and I slide my hands down the insides of her arms, gripping her wrists and bringing them up, pinning them to the truck, too. She sighs then, barely putting up a fight, almost like she’s been waiting for this to happen, or maybe she’s had a little too much to drink. I don’t care either way.
“He shouldn’t get to touch you more than I do,” I grumble.
“I married him, Marcel.” It’s a fact. I know it, but I can’t stand the thought of it.
“You think I give a fuck about that? He doesn’t make you feel the way I make you feel.”
She doesn’t say anything; she doesn’t have to. She knows it’s true.
“He had his hands all over you, and I just had to sit back and watch while he got to do it in front of everyone. It’s bullshit.”
“Well what do you expect after what we did, Marcel? I can’t just flirt around with you and act like I’m not taken. I made a vow to him.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure you’ve broken several of those vows with me. Shit, you’re breakin’ one right now.”
“Ugh.” She tries to find a way out. I hold her wrists tighter, gluing my groin to hers. A frown forms on her face. “I can’t do this with you right now.”
“Why the hell not? No one’s lookin’.”
“Marcel, I have to get back—”
“Meet me at a villa when he goes out of town for work again.”
She stops putting up a fight. “W-what?”
“You heard me.”
“Why would I do that?” she asks, voice hoarse.
“Because I know you’ve been thinkin’ about me. About what it would be like to do it again.”
Her head is shaking. “No. That’s insane. This is not an affair—”
“I’m not lettin’ him have you all to himself,” I snap. “Fuck that.”
She shuts her mouth, sweeping her eyes all over my face. “Wow! You’re not just jealous. You’re crazy-jealous!”
“You made me this way.”
She scoffs.
I smirk.
“Meet at a villa like some cheap hooker? Do you realize how that sounds?” she mutters.
I run the tip of my nose up the crook of her neck, breathing her in. “You always smell so good.”
“I can’t go to a villa with you. It’s too obvious.”
“I could eat your pussy right here in my truck.”
Her breath catches. “Oh my God.”
“Make you mine all over again.”
“Who said I was yours in the first place?”
“You did, the moment I put my mouth on yours, and you didn’t pull away.”
She shudders a breath. “You’re making this so hard.”
“It’s not that hard to think about. Come to a villa on the beach with me and ride my cock with the ocean view behind you. Simple.”
“I need to get back.”
I nip at the area just below her chin with my teeth. She breathes even harder, and my cock twitches in my jeans.
She lowers her gaze, her lashes touching her cheekbones. “I’ll think about it. Now let me get back before someone notices I’ve been gone for too long.”
She tries to pull away. I don’t budge. “Marcel,” she snaps, annoyed. I don’t care.
“Do you want me again? Answer it, honestly.”
&
nbsp; She looks away, clearly exasperated. “Why do you always have to make me state the obvious?”
“So, you do want me again?” I can’t fight my smirk.
She gives me a serious once over.
“I want to hear it come out of your mouth.” She challenges my stare, but I’m not having it. I need to hear her say it. Maybe that makes me some desperate, sad fuck. If so, I don’t give a damn. I need to know that I’m not wasting my time.
I don’t care that she’s married. I don’t expect this to last forever, but I want her again. And I want to know if she wants the same.
“Fine—yes! I want you again. I’ve been thinking about what we did nonstop ever since it happened, even while lying in the same bed as him! Does that make you happy to hear?”
I release her wrists, planting my hands on the truck, on either side of her head. She’s looking up at me, trying to carry on her defiant charade.
She can’t resist me.
I can’t resist her.
We’re fucking impossible.
“Kiss me and you can go.” My voice is low, husky.
“I’m not kissing you out here! Are you crazy?” She looks all around, but there’s no one out. We can still hear her guests in her backyard, drunk and laughing.
“No one’s around, Gabby, and I’m parked in the shadows, away from the streetlights. You’ve got no excuse.”
“Other than the fact that I’m not yours. You’re ridiculous.”
“You think I give a shit about any of that? The fact that you’re married doesn’t intimidate me, just so you know. If Kyle had a little respect, maybe I would feel a little guilty, but he doesn’t, so I don’t give a fuck. Now kiss me, and I’ll let you get back to hostin’ your party.”
Her throat bobs as she focuses on my mouth. “You’re going to ruin me.”
I grin, probably a little too proudly. “I hope I ruin you for him, then maybe you’ll come runnin’ to me more often. Now shut up and kiss me already.”
“Gah!” She pushes on her toes and leans into me, her mouth latching onto mine. One of her hands is on my chest, the other draping around the back of my neck. She kisses me deep and slow, then parts her lips, running her tongue over mine.
I groan in response, tasting the wine on her tongue, and my cock comes to life, hardening like a fucking rock for her. She drops a hand to palm my dick, rubbing the print of it, working me up.
The Man I Can't Have Page 24
