by Cathy Quinn
Behind his back, Alice yanked the shower curtain closed, cutting off the light. Irritated, he pulled it open again, only to reveal her goose bumped backside as she was pulling on her underwear. She shrieked, as only women accidentally caught in the nude could shriek.
"Gabriel!"
He snatched the curtain closed again and swore for a full minute, leaning against the tiles with his arms crossed, eyes squeezed shut as he worked hard on purging the image from his retinas.
"I told you I was getting dressed out here!" She joined him in cursing a blue streak, and moments later, fully dressed, she wrenched the shower curtain to the side. And down.
They both stared at the floor, then simultaneously raised their gazes to the gaping holes in the mortar where the railing had been.
"Oops," Alice whispered.
"Yep. That’s oops, alright." Gabriel stepped over the bundle of shower curtain and opened the door. He was feeling pretty calm about this. In the great scheme of things, what was one more disaster? "Guess I’m not quite ready for houseguests yet."
Alice followed him into the kitchen, her hair dripping a foamy path through the towel on the wooden floor. "I suppose it would be too much to hope that the kitchen faucet has hot water so I could at least rinse the shampoo out of my hair with warm water?"
"Well, what do you know?" Gabriel stared at the faucet. "It isn’t leaking anymore."
Alice muttered something unladylike and turned on her heel, going back to the bathroom. He heard the rush of water, and a series of curses echoed around the house for half a minute. Then she reemerged, looking blue, which clashed nicely with the purple towel she had wrapped around her hair.
"Do you have any idea how painful it is to wash your hair with icy water?" she asked, teeth chattering again as she rubbed her hair hard through the towel. "The pain radiates through your skull, almost like noise. It hurts."
"Right. Plumbing is on my to-do list. I’ll have the shower in working order the next time you stay the night." It was a promise he felt safe to make. Alice had never stayed the night with him before, and he doubted she would again. He couldn’t let that happen. Far too confusing. His libido didn’t handle well the concept of ‘just a friend’ in his bed. Not when it was Alice.
He reached for the empty paper cup off the kitchen counter and took a whiff. That would have to sustain him for now, but the grocery store was definitely the first stop today. After the hardware store, of course. And the bookstore, for a DIY book on plumbing.
He’d never imagined home improvement involved so much reading. This was worse than law school.
"Why don’t you fix the place up?" Alice was finger-combing her hair, using his teakettle as a mirror. "Gabriel, this place has potential and the neighborhood is really nice, but as it is, it’s a complete dump. A stray cat would be embarrassed to take up residence here."
"I am fixing it up. One thing at a time."
"What did you fix yet?"
There were plenty of things he’d attacked with his brand-new toolkit. The doorbell, for instance. Only it hadn’t worked, hence the Invasion of the Psycho Siblings this morning. In hindsight, he’d probably been lucky not to electrocute himself. The creaking doors didn’t creak anymore, but instead they oozed oil on the floor. He wasn’t going to think about that ladder and the hatch to the attic.
And absolutely not was he confessing to any of his failures. The learning curve was steep – but he’d always been a quick study. "This and that," he grunted. There were occasions when being a man of few words came in handy.
"Gabriel, you could hire people to help you. This place is falling apart. It’s not like you don’t have the money, right? Heck, you probably make more in a month than I do in a year. Not to mention your family’s fortune."
He didn’t reply.
Alice shrugged. "It’s your life. But money really has no higher purpose than making life more comfortable. I don’t see the point of bathing in cold water when you don’t have to and the money is just sitting there in the bank, or your portfolio, or wherever."
"Maybe life isn’t meant to be comfortable. Maybe it’s time I found that out."
"What do your parents think about this?"
Gabriel shrugged. He wasn’t ready to put his family’s skeletons on display. They were particularly dusty these days. "It’s my life, as you just said."
She smiled, rubbing her finger-combed hair with the towel one last time before looping it around his neck and dropping a quick kiss on his chin. It was the farthest she could reach standing on tip-toe, and had been her substitute for a kiss on the cheek since she was a kid.
Unfortunately, his chin had been threatening to turn into an erogenous zone. Damnit. "In that case, I hope you enjoy your icicle shower." She waved. "Bye, Gabriel. See you later."
"Bye," he said, as the door swung shut, staring after her.
She did have a lovely back. Goose-bumps and all. Those goose-bumps would make it difficult for a while to remember she was off-limits. And she was. Even if he hurt and alienated every other woman in the world, he wouldn’t do that to Alice. He cared too much about her to take any such risks.
But then she’d just had to get naked in front of him, to show him quite a lot of what he had diligently been refusing himself to even fantasize about.
It was a tough job to be a gentleman.
And he’d been doing such a good job repressing that annoying lust. Sometimes he’d almost managed to convince himself she was nothing but a surrogate sister to him.
Hah!
Cursing he turned back to the – normally – leaking faucet. The sound it made, the continuous drip-drip-drip he’d been listening to now for days and days, made it his number one priority – after the warm water was back on, of course. He’d need more tools. The question was, which tools?
He wasn’t very familiar with tools, their names or their functions, but he’d learn. He’d bought a whole pile of DIY books, even videos for good measure. Of course, he thought, kicking a loose door on a cabinet closed, he didn’t have a VCR yet. He was going to buy one to reward himself for fixing the television antenna.
He’d intended to attack the problems one by one, but for every one he managed to fix, several others popped up on its place. Becoming a handyman was more work than he’d anticipated and his late aunt’s house was in a lot worse shape then he’d originally thought. The combination was daunting.
He was already inside his pickup when he realized he’d forgotten something important. He groaned.
Alice would return.
At any time, night or day, she could return, and there would be no escape.
He’d forgotten to ask for his house key back.
Chapter 3
Three days later Alice returned to Gabriel’s house after work. She parked next to his pickup and climbed out of her car, shading her eyes with her hand as she peered up on the roof.
"How’s your hot water?" she called.
"Nonexistent." Gabriel waved, straddling the roof. He was holding something – a book. Alice frowned in surprise. He was reading up on the roof?
She noticed tools strewn randomly on the ground, some hidden in the tall grass, others – the sharp ones — sticking out of it in a manner that suggested they would be sticking at the same angle out of someone’s skull, had anyone happened to be standing there. She stepped further away and took refuge behind Gabriel’s pick-up. Clearly, this was a danger zone.
"So you’re taking cold showers?"
"’Fraid so. Since you’re here, could you hop inside and check the TV reception for me?"
"I would, but it looks like you’re throwing your tools left and right. Am I safe?"
He grunted. "Yeah. I just lost my grip on the toolbox and it opened in the fall."
Alice grinned up at him. "I would prefer to wear a hardhat, but I’ll trust you." She entered the house without mishap and dashed to the living room to turn on the television. She flipped through a few channels, then opened a window and leaned out.
"Looks great," she shouted. "We’ve got sitcoms, news, the weather channel! Yippie! You must have been doing something right up there!"
A thud echoed through the roof, then Gabriel’s legs, jeans torn and splattered with what seemed like at least three colors of paint, appeared just outside the window. Then he fell down, landing with an "oof". She leaned out the window to find him sitting in the grass just outside, rubbing his knee and looking dirty, sweaty, disgruntled and irresistible.
She hated it when he looked irresistible.
She grinned at him. "Hey there. Ever heard of this nifty little invention called a ladder?"
"Yep. I used one to get up, but the toolbox knocked it down when it fell."
"I see. I guess we’re lucky you didn’t fall yourself and land with the toolkit on your head. But hey – we’ve got a working television! Maybe there is hope for you yet."
He glared at her. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"Mmmm," Alice said. "Nice t-shirt. Are the rips home-made or designed?"
"Why would I buy a ripped shirt?"
"You know, you should get women friends of yours to help you out with the house repairs. Guaranteed to get you lucky."
Why was she saying this? Did she want women plastered all over Gabriel?
Other women?
"There’s something so sexy about a man holding a hammer," she prattled on. "I edited a terrific article on it last week – ‘Hardware, Hormones and Hotties.’"
"Fascinating. Remind me not to read it."
She leaned on her elbows out the window, rested her chin on her hands and grinned down at him. Lord, he was cute when he was scowling. "Surly and grumpy. You haven’t changed much since you were sixteen, have you?"
Gabriel got to his feet and brushed loose dirt of his pants. It didn’t help a lot. "Are you here for a reason, or did you just need someone to bug?"
Alice shook her head. "Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re your father’s son. I saw him on television last evening. He certainly charmed the brain out of that reporter. You must have charm hidden away somewhere in your genes."
Gabriel motioned her to step back away from the window, grabbed the edges and climbed in. He leaned against the windowsill and held out his hands, inspecting the grimy palms. "Charm is overrated. So is my father." He tucked his fists in his armpits and looked her over. "Want something to drink?"
Alice cheered. "Manners! Perhaps your father did teach you something after all."
"Right." Gabriel headed into the kitchen and Alice trailed after him, taking care not to trip over all the junk lying everywhere. He reached inside the fridge and tossed her a can of lemonade and got a beer for himself. "I don’t have a lot to choose from and I don’t suppose you’ll want a beer. Lemonade okay?"
"Thanks. Have your parents been to visit yet?"
"Nope."
"This was your aunt’s house, wasn’t it? It’s still a total dump. You aren’t serious about living here, are you?"
"Yes, it’s my aunt’s house, and yes, I’m serious about living here. Anything else you need to know?"
Alice made repeated attempts to lift herself up to jump on the counter to sit there. It didn’t quite work. Gabriel put his can down and crossed over to her. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up on the counter.
"Uh, thanks," she said, fighting back a sudden blush and distracting herself by squirming into position, her feet dangling down. "You’re strong."
"Nah." Gabriel leaned against the fridge and looked her up and down. "You’re just tiny."
"I know," she sighed. "I blame my mother. She smoked during my pregnancy, dooming me to a life of stepladders and pats on the head. I’d probably be at least two inches taller if it weren’t for the curse of tobacco."
"Don’t worry. Tiny is irresistible. Makes men fall all over themselves wanting to protect you."
"Really?" Alice perked up. "Men find that attractive? I thought they all wanted long legs and someone they don’t have to put up on a pedestal to get them within kissing distance."
"Trust me." Gabriel made a saluting movement with his can of beer. "It’s cute."
"I’m cute?"
Gabriel smirked. "Yes, Alice. You’re cute."
Alice hid her smile by taking a drink. She’d just had to hear him say it. Of course there were adjectives she’d prefer to ‘cute’. Like hot. Alluring. Sexy. Irresistible.
But coming from Gabriel, cute would have to do for now. Sigh.
"Well, my size means I don’t do a lot of dancing with my dates."
Gabriel grinned. "Really? You haven’t been dancing the right way with the right men."
"Oh, yeah? Will you teach me how to dance with giants?"
"No." There was a wicked glint in his eyes. "My method’s unconventional. Michael wouldn’t approve."
Alice swallowed her lemonade, and nearly coughed as she realized they were flirting. The temptation to taunt him, ask if he was afraid of her big brother was almost overwhelming, but she managed to stomp it down. She was here to enlist Gabriel’s help, for God’s sake, not play games.
He was just teasing. He wasn’t interested in her.
Never had been, never would be.
Or was he...?
She stared at him for a moment, a flicker of hope suddenly blazing.
That glint had been promising.
Perhaps he was beginning to realize she wasn’t in pigtails anymore?
Hmmmmmm!
***
Gabriel wasn’t sure he liked the way Alice was looking at him, a speculative and secretive look in her eyes. She was up to something, but he wasn’t sure what.
"Anyway," she said breezily. "I came to apologize for the other night. Ugh. I should locked away at night, for my own safety." She grimaced. "I don’t remember all the details, but I think I said some nasty things about you, as well as the male gender as a whole."
"Time heals all wounds," Gabriel said drily. "I’ll live."
"At least something good came out of that – my multi-dating idea. What a brilliant plan! I should get drunk more often. It seems to stimulate my creativity."
Gabriel groaned. "Oh, come on, Alice! You’re serious about that?"
"Absolutely. Mr. Right is out there, right? Somewhere. I just have to find him. That’s the tricky part. But you see my logic, don’t you? The more men I meet – the better my chances of finding The One."
Gabriel stared at her, one side of his mouth quirking in a smile. "Why don’t you just find yourself a hobby, Alice? Or get a pet? A dog would be good for you. Or a couple of fluffy kittens?"
She ignored him. "I already have a five dates lined up."
Gabriel coughed on his soda. "Five? Five? Five different guys?"
"I told you, multi-dating. Isn’t it a brilliant concept? I should market it. Would make a fantastic television show. Imagine.... if I can keep this up, getting to know at least ten guys every month, that’s 120 men in one year."
Gabriel imagined. He didn’t like the image one bit.
Alice smiled broadly, looking very happy with herself. "It’s statistics. I’m increasing my odds of success. Isn’t it a great plan? Out of hundreds of guys, one has to be right for me, don’t you think? And even if I don’t find one, I’ll have eliminated lots. Either way, I’m ahead."
His head reeled. "You’re nuts."
"No. I’m logical. Things don’t happen just by themselves, Gabriel. You have to make them happen."
Gabriel could only shake his head. "Five dates? Where do you hook up with all those guys, anyway?"
"You know," she shrugged. "Here and there. Friends of friends. Brothers of friends." Her gaze darkened. "In some cases they become brothers of ex-friends." She shrugged. "I’ve pretty much exhausted most traditional avenues, so now I’m going to concentrate on the Internet."
"The Internet?" he yelled in horror. "What?"
Alice quirked an eyebrow at him. "You have heard of the Internet?"
"Don’t tell me you’re picking up g
uys online?" Oh, God. Gabriel nearly hyperventilated as all kinds of scenarios flashed through his mind. The soda can crushed in his hand, and he dropped it to the floor as both hands raked through his hair. Women. Even when you were staying the hell away from them, they were trouble. "Hell, Alice, don’t do this to me!"
"Quit shouting!"
"Quit shouting? You’re lucky I don’t have you handcuffed and grounded! Do you want to be a crime statistic?"
"Don’t be so paranoid."
"Paranoid?"
"Yes, paranoid," she retorted. "I’m not stupid, you know. Internet dating is quite safe if you take the proper precautions. A lot of people have fond their soulmate online. And I’m careful. I mean -- I don’t give out my name or address or anything. Well, I won’t until I know them better."
"Let me guess – you’re going to ask them if they’re serial murders, and when they say no, you give them that pretty smile and your home phone number?"
"Uhm... something like that."
Gabriel needed to sit down. He probably needed to lie down. This wasn’t funny anymore. "Alice, don’t be so naïve. If you’re meeting them, hell, if you’re just giving them your email address, withholding your name is not going to do you much good. You can’t trust people you meet online. Oh, damn! You need a babysitter. No, you need a prison cell."
"Can’t believe you’re so uptight, Gabriel. The Internet is a great place to meet people. You should try it. And I have an anonymous email address. It’s quite safe."
"That’s no guarantee you won’t be meeting a psycho!"
