by Cathy Quinn
"I made it, darling," she said sweetly. "Am I too late?"
"You his girlfriend or something?" one of the disappointed girls asked, and Alice answered by squirming into Gabriel’s arms.
"You don’t think he’d trust anyone else’s knee where I had mine last session?" she purred. Gabriel pinched her arm and she squealed. "Gabriel!" she chided. "Watch where your hands are. We’re in public."
Gabriel looked at her quizzically. Something in his eyes warned her of an impending punishment for today’s behavior. But in the meantime, she had a whole hour of playing his girlfriend.
As the girls filtered out of the gym, Alice tried to follow, but Gabriel had grabbed her arm as he dismissed them, and breaking that grip around her wrist was one thing he hadn’t taught her yet. So she stayed, not looking at him, until the gym was empty and there was silence around them. Gabriel finally let go of her arm, but cornered her against the wall instead. He put his hands on his hips and stared at her. "So you decided to come, after all, darling?"
She shrugged. "I figured you needed me. I was right. You were about to be carved into ten pieces for them to bring home."
"And why pretending to be my girlfriend?"
"I’m saving you. They seem to respect the fact that you’re taken. They’re young. Still romantic enough not to want to steal another woman’s man. It won’t last long, though."
"How cynical of you."
"I’m learning from the master. Anyway, they’ll leave you alone now. You should thank me."
"How nice of you, darling."
She tried to move, but he didn’t budge. Experimentally, she pushed at his chest. Nope. She might as well be pushing at a brick wall, and the lesson hadn’t covered brick walls yet either. "Uh, Gabriel, you’re in my way."
Staring her down obviously was the plan of the day.
"Gabriel? You don’t want to force me to show you how much you’ve taught me today. It would be painful."
Gabriel stared down at her. He was very close, and there was something in his eyes that thrilled and panicked her at the same time.
What was he thinking? To her mind, he was debating whether to kiss her, but her mind was clouded by the rosy glow of romance, and maybe he was just thinking about what a royal pain she was.
Why didn’t men have their thoughts flickering by on a small screen on their forehead? That would help male-female communication enormously. If she could be absolutely sure that he wanted to kiss her, she’d beat him to it. Then she’d wrap herself around him and not let go until he was convinced they would be good together. Great together.
In the meantime, he was still staring at her, and she was still too unsure to do anything about their close proximity. For one thing, he wasn’t close enough. Maybe she should see about a portable stepladder that would fit into her purse.
But, then there were these handy bars, pressing into her back. She lifted one foot and fitted it on one bar. She grabbed another bar with one hand, and lifted herself up. Yes. This was more like it. She was actually close enough to see the whites of his eyes now. Oooh, and the black. Dilated pupils. Wasn’t that a sign of interest? Or was it a sign of intoxication? Should she kiss him? Or wait for him to do something, before she fell off the darned bars?
What should a 21st century woman do?
He took one deep breath and stepped even closer, his hands coming to rest on the bars on either side of her head.
And then – nothing.
"Gabriel?"
His gaze was moving slowly over her face, lingering on her mouth, then moving up the side of her face, to her eyes, and back down to her mouth. It was just as tangible as a caress. Her free hand on his chest, originally there to push him away, began to register his heat and his heartbeat, and his eyes were very dark. Her hand moved, just an inch, but she knew, and knew that he knew, that it was a caress, an exploration of what was happening between them.
Gabriel drew in a sharp breath and pushed himself away. He stood for a moment with his back to her.
"Damnit!" He turned away and stalked towards the exit. Alice grinned as she let go of the bars and jumped down to the floor, her mood a million times lighter.
Excellent. She could recognize a panicked man when one was running away from her. She hummed as she strolled after him.
Yes, things were going just great.
What the hell was happening?
Gabriel cursed as he strode towards his pickup. He’d almost kissed her. He’d almost pinned her against the wall, buried his hands in her hair and...
He clenched his eyes shut and started the pickup. Better not think about it. It wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about kissing her, or touching her, or – No.
The tires squealed as he raced out of the parking lot. What had happened to his brain? Was someone inserting those thoughts in his mind? What had happened to his iron will?
He wasn’t going to think about Alice at all. Not her goose bumps, or her smile, or her small mouth or the way she sometimes looked at him...
What had she been thinking, anyway?
Well, he knew what he’d been thinking. And he’d read the same thing in her eyes, a desire so acute it had been agony to pull away from her. She wanted him. Well, she thought she did. She didn’t know what was good for her, but what definitely wasn’t good for her, was getting involved with him.
He hesitated at the crossing, then turned in the direction opposite to the way home. He’d go for a drive and think things over.
He needed some breathing space. That was it. He needed some time, alone, without her around, especially without them climbing all over each other in those self-defense classes. Whoa! That had been a very very bad idea, and would have to come to an end.
And those blind dates of her – well, he could not look out for her any more, but someone had to.
He’d talk to Michael. Alice was his little sister.
***
Hours later, when he finally went home, there was a note on his door. Recognizing the scrawl, he almost didn’t read it, but his conscience wouldn’t let him. With an oath he ripped it off the door so hard it tore in two. He hit the switch for the porch light, which only resulted in reminding him of one more item for his to-do list. Heading inside, he finally found a working light in the kitchen and threw the note on the counter.
Tomorrow he’d read that electrical handbook.
Alice’s writing was like her – lopsided and disorganized, yet clear and charming. He snatched his hand back and viciously kicked the leg of his new kitchen table when he found himself softly tracing the letters of her signature with a finger.
What was that all about?
Alien hand syndrome. Had to be. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about. Next thing he knew he’d be smiling sappily at romantic chick flicks and planting roses in the front yard. All because Alice was messing with his mind, and his hormones were allowing her to wreak all the damage she wanted.
A Y-chromosome was a terrible burden to bear.
He sighed and folded his arms sternly on his chest as he bent over the counter to read the note. He would not smell the paper to check for traces of her scent. Nobody did that except fragile old ladies in sentimental movies. It was absurd even to think about it.
Dear Gabriel. I have another date at tomorrow at eight. The address of the restaurant is on the other side. I reserved a table for you. It’s on me, too, so feel free to order the lobster. See you there. Alice.
Tomorrow? Tommorrow? What happened to taking Sundays off?
"Damn!" he growled and lunged for the phone, frantically punching in Michael’s number.
Michael’s answering service greeted him and he hung up with a grunt because he’d just remembered Michael was away for a conference. He would not be available to baby-sit Alice.
Now what?
"I won’t go," he said aloud.
He wouldn’t.
Tomorrow night he would work on the kitchen walls instead; prepare them for th
at badly needed new wallpaper. He’d have loud rock music on, plenty of beer, and he’d have fun scraping the walls.
He didn’t like the idea of Alice alone on a blind date with an internet weirdo – but she was right, she could take care of herself. She was doing everything by the book, and she was already getting quite good at the self-defense moves he’d taught her. She’d be fine just this once – and after that, she was Michael’s problem.
Yup. It was over. From now on his only worry would be the house.
He grabbed a sheet of sandpaper and smiled grimly as he headed towards the garage. Nothing like manual labor to take a man’s mind off woman trouble.
And his hands off the woman herself.
Chapter 8
Gabriel was late.
Alice kept glancing back to the entrance or out the window, trying to keep it inconspicuous and surreptitious, and probably failing. Where was he? He wouldn’t stand her up, would he? If he wasn’t coming, wouldn’t he at least have called and let her know?
Hadn’t he gotten her note?
It had been stupid to leave a note. Notes blew away in a breeze or got smudged in the rain. It hadn’t rained for several days and there wasn’t any breeze to talk about, but there was no still no guarantee the note had survived. For all she knew it had been gobbled down by a neighborhood cat with an eating disorder or stolen by a kleptomanic bird.
She should have called and made sure he’d be here.
Was he staying away on purpose? Had she scared him off in the gym yesterday? She grinned. He’d certainly run out of there like something with sharp acid teeth was nipping at his heels.
Poor Gabriel. But this was kind of fun...
"Is something wrong?"
Her blind date had noticed her distraction. It might have something to do with her having squirmed in her seat for almost half an hour now. She was also having distinct trouble focusing on the conversation.
It was all Gabriel’s fault.
"No. Sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I just... thought I saw someone I knew."
She tried to focus on her date. He seemed nice enough. Which one was this again? She’d exchanged so many emails recently that her alphabet guys were blurring together. Was this the lawyer who was interested in scuba diving? Or the single father architect with a passion for tropical fish aquariums?
"So, how are the fish?" she asked cheerfully. She’d be safe either way. But, for God’s sake, what was the guy’s name?
"The fish?"
"I’m afraid I don’t know much about fish, but I did see this TV program about how they may be much more intelligent than we give them credit for. And that myth about them not feeling pain – someone said that had been disproved."
He was looking at her strangely. "Interesting," was all he said. "I’m going to have the salmon. How about you?"
She cringed. Oops. It was the advertising executive who loved salmon fishing and dreamt of owning a yacht. Who wanted a woman by his side as he put wriggling worms on hooks.
Men had the weirdest hobbies.
And on the subject of men, what was keeping Gabriel? After what he had inadvertently revealed the last time, she was quite anxious to see him again. He should be here. This was his idea after all. He’d insisted to protect her on her blind dates.
Grinding her teeth, she excused herself and made straight for the ladies room, where she made good use of her cell-phone.
His voice was gruff in her ear when he finally answered. "Yeah?"
"Why aren’t you here yet?"
Silence. Guilty silence.
"Gabriel? Where are you?"
A sigh. "At the grocery store, if you must know. Frozen food section, aisle seven. I’m stocking up on TV-dinners and cold drinks. Then I’m going home to work on my house. I have a hot date with a scraper."
"A scraper?" Alice repeated stupidly. The mention of ‘hot date’ had thrown her off balance.
Gabriel sighed again. "Yes. Old wallpaper. Needs to be scraped off before applying new wallpaper. Kind of like girlfriends if you think about it."
"Huh?"
"To answer your question – I’m at the grocery store. Then I’m going home to work on my kitchen. That enough information for you or will you be resorting to truth serum?"
Alice shook her head and got her brain processes back in gear. "Stocking up on TV dinners? You’re shopping? I’m on a blind date here! What happened to saving me from a fate worse than death?"
"You were right. I was wrong."
"Exactly what I like to hear, except—"
"You’ll be fine, Alice. I was being paranoid and overprotective. You’ll do fine on your own."
Alice smiled. He was avoiding her.
He was desperate to avoid her.
In the weird scheme of things, this was terrific!
"Chicken," she said softly.
"Chicken? Good choice." She heard rustling in the background. "Tikka Masala. Excellent. Thank you, Alice. Bye!"
"You know what I mean," Alice managed to interject. "You’re chicken. You’re backing out because of what happened yesterday."
"Nothing happened yesterday."
She grinned widely at her mirror image, winking at herself for good measure. Ooh, this was good. "You like me."
Another sigh blew into her ear. "Hey, what’s there not to like, babe?"
She chose to ignore any hint of irony in his voice. Her grin grew wider. "You wanted to kiss me."
"Aren’t you out on a date right now? With someone else, too?"
"Jealous?"
"Don’t you think it might be a good idea to concentrate on Mr. B through Mr. Z, and leave me alone?"
"You did want to kiss me!" she persisted.
"Sure. Hey, I’m a man. You’re female. I’ve wanted to kiss girls since I was twelve or so. Men have uncontrollable hormonal urges. It’s biological. Don’t take it personally."
The phone clicked in her ear, and she only just managed to avoid stomping her foot in frustration. He’d hung up on her! That man was impossible.
Don’t take it personally?
She sagged against the wall, the memory of yesterday making her need all the support she could get.
He was right – nothing had happened. Almost nothing.
She sighed. How could a woman not take it personally when a man looked at her with that much lust in his eyes?
***
"Glad to see you escaped that fate worse than death," Gabriel drawled when Alice was suddenly standing in his back yard a couple of hours later, wearing something completely unsuitable for a house undergoing major repairs, blinking in the glare of the work lights he’d rigged.
He turned his back to her and continued to mark the tiles for cutting. Scraping wallpaper was too mindless. He’d needed something more complicated to keep his mind off Alice, so he’d started to lay tiles in the bathroom instead.
It had been going pretty well, but now he’d somehow managed mark this one diagonally. He tossed the marker to the side and grabbed a rag, rubbing the errant mark. Hey, as long as he wasn’t drawing hearts and arrows, he was probably okay...
"How was your date?" he asked pointedly. He needed to remind both of them that Alice was on a mission, and he was not one of the intended targets.
"Okay. Not an axe in sight. Nice, friendly guy. I’m still alive and well. No thanks to you, though."
Gabriel shrugged and busied himself with cutting the tile. "I’m not your keeper."
"Hey, you’re the one who demanded that job. It’s not like I asked you to look after me."
"Yeah, well, okay, I quit."
"Fine. Terrific. And you’re fired, too, just to make things crystal clear." She strode back into the house, and he twisted around just in time to see her push open the bathroom door. "No!" he shouted, but it was too late.
He sighed as she cursed, and leaned against the wall, staring up at the evening sky. It had been inevitable, hadn’t it?
Slowly, Alice lifted her foot. She leaned against a wall to inspe
ct the sole. "Great," she bit out. "New shoes. Ruined."
"Use the upstairs bathroom," he grumbled. "I’m working in there."
"You should get some Men-at-Work signs," she shot back as she hopped around, pulling off her shoe. "This place is a hazard area! Do you have any idea how much time I spent finding the perfect shoes to go with this outfit?"
"I left the bathroom for a second to cut the last few tiles -- there’s barely a square foot of wet mortar left on that floor, and of course you manage to put your perfect shoe where it doesn’t belong..." He shrugged and stared up at the sky again, shaking his head. "It is The Way of the Alice."
Alice beamed at him, her bad mood obviously evaporating in an instant. It often did. Alice never held grudges. "Gabriel, this is so cute! We’re having a lover’s tiff! Just like an old married couple!"
He took one threatening step towards her and she giggled as she ran up the stairs towards the upper bathroom, one foot bare, the other wearing a 3-inch heel. "Be right back," she called. "Just need to clean this mess off my face. Susan wanted to experiment, and I swear, it’s almost as horrid as that gunk on your floor."
Gabriel rolled his eyes and quickly finished cutting the remaining tiles. With luck he’d be able to finish setting the last tiles before Alice got back. Then all he had to do was apply grout, and at least two rooms in this house would be perfect.
The upstairs of the house looked slightly better than downstairs. Gabriel was getting better at house-improvement. The upstairs bathroom needed serious work too, but it was clean and the water worked.
