by Virna DePaul
Zoe frowned then shifted from foot to foot. She raised her chin. "Of course I can.”
"Good. Because like I said, my invitation is purely selfish," Gabe told her. "This is just for the security of my career."
Zoe chewed at her lip as she considered this. "Just for the night?"
Gabe nodded.
"No longer." Zoe's fingers fidgeted with the strap of her gym bag. "And I'll sleep on the couch."
Gabe wanted to immediately say, “Hell, no,” but unfortunately they didn’t have a guest bed assembled and made up yet, and more importantly, he could tell by the stubborn expression on Zoe’s face this was something she was going to dig in her heels about. He’d rather have her sleeping on his couch in an air conditioned room than not.
“That’s fine," Gabe said.
"And we're not having breakfast together tomorrow morning."
His mouth quirked up. "Hell, no.”
Zoe shut the front door, took a step toward Gabe, but then stopped, raising a pointed finger to him.
"Don't you dare even make me coffee."
Gabe held up his hands in capitulation. "I presume you know how to type Starbucks into your GPS."
Zoe nodded. "Okay, well then, thank you.”
Gabe nodded as well. "You’re welcome.” He tilted his head in the direction of the living room. “Let me show you where the sofa is and I’ll grab you some blankets and pillows.”
Gabe tossed and turned until the alarm clock on the nightstand next to his bed read 2:04 am. Finally, he flung back the covers, slipped on a pair of boxers from his dresser, and tip-toed down the stairs. As far as he knew, Murph hadn’t come back, and he couldn't sleep because he'd been thinking of one thing and one thing alone: Zoe.
Was she comfortable? The couch wasn’t some designer piece of shit that you sat stick straight on and never dared to eat buffalo wings on because it would stain, but it wasn’t as comfortable as a bed, either. Was she cold? Did she need anything? He’d left her with a glass of water and told her to help herself to the fridge, but had she even eaten last night?
Damn it, he should have asked her, but he hadn’t wanted to push his luck after she’d finally agreed to stay, making it clear she wouldn’t be happy if he so much as made her a damn cup of coffee in the morning.
He made his way as quietly as he could down the hallway toward the living room where he found Zoe bathed in moonlight. She had the pillows, sheet, and blanket he’d given her, and the A/C was blasting comfortably, but her body was curled into a tight ball.
"Zoe," he whispered in the dark. "Hey, Zoe."
When she didn’t respond, Gabe tried to lightly shake her shoulder with no result. Standing awkwardly next to her sleeping form, he considered leaving her there, but after another moment of unsure contemplation, he slipped his arms gently under Zoe's knees and neck, pausing to see if she stirred. When he saw her breathing remain even and calm, he lifted her into his arms. He held her tightly against his chest and moved to carry her upstairs when Zoe mumbled something. Gabe froze, hardly daring to breathe, but Zoe only snuggled her head against him and tucked her hands sweetly beneath her chin. She slept fitfully in his arms as he nudged open the door to his room.
He wasn’t going to sleep in a comfortable bed while she slept on the couch. He just couldn’t do it.
Gabe laid Zoe as gently as he could onto the mattress. He pulled the covers up over her shoulders. He told himself that was fine, that was enough. He should leave.
But he couldn't stop himself from tucking a stray strand of hair that fluttered with her even breath back behind her ear. He couldn't stop from admiring her beauty in the soft light. And he couldn't stop himself from running his thumb against her cheekbone before he left her in his room and parked himself on the couch, breathing in the sweet scent of her that she’d left behind.
Chapter 8
Zoe woke feeling refreshed, comfortable, and surrounded by the most delicious smell. Soft morning sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains and with a contented sigh she nestled back into a cocoon of cool, silk sheets and down pillows fluffier than toasted marshmallows. As her eyelids fluttered shut again, she wondered when her bed got so comfy, when her room got so luxurious, when her A/C got so, so blissfully fixed.
It was then that her eyes shot open. She wasn't at home; she was at Gabe's place. And she was no longer on his comfy couch in his living room, but rather in a bedroom, and by the manly scent and masculine touches around her, it looked like she was in Gabe’s bedroom.
What the hell?
Sitting up, Zoe rubbed at her bleary eyes and glanced around the room until her gaze landed on a note beneath a glass of water with fresh lemon slices floating merrily on top. Zoe picked up the note and read it once, read it twice, read it three times.
Please move in like Murph said. It makes the most sense. – Gabe
PS: Don't shoot me, but I made you coffee and breakfast before heading to practice. It’s in the kitchen. Please help yourself to anything you need.
PPS: If you’re thinking about being stubborn and refusing my offer, please don’t. As you can see, we have more than enough room (I assembled the guest bed and it’s waiting for you, Murph can show you where). You’re going to be here almost every day anyway, and you need A/C, Zoe.
He’d then listed several reasons why the arrangement would be beneficial to him—mainly that they could squeeze in extra training if needed. Essentially, Zoe would be on call, for which Gabe and Murph would pay her a bonus.
Zoe sighed, knowing it was a risk, but also knowing that she had been on the edge last night. If she had to sleep indefinitely without air conditioning, she’d be miserable and that could affect whether she was on the top of her game for Gabe’s training. Plus, because she’d agreed to train Gabe in his home gym, moving in with the Murphys would save her tons of driving time, especially when they decided to double up on sessions. Finally, the amount of the bonus Gabe had detailed was extremely appealing, too.
With everything going on in her life, wouldn’t it be okay for her to accept a little help for once?
Kevin could handle any existing or walk-in clients Iron Maiden got. Besides, she wasn’t going to be training Gabe Murphy 24/7 even if she was living here. She could always slide on over to the gym to oversee operations there when needed.
But while that was all true, and a huge motivator, something else prompted Zoe to accept Gabe’s offer.
She wanted to spend more time with Gabe, period. Wanted to see more of the man when he wasn’t focused solely on football. And not just the man with the chiseled body revealed by his slipping towel last night, but the man who in the end hadn’t been able to let her sleep on his couch and had given up his own bed for her.
Later, after she’d met up with an apologetic Murph who showed her the gym and the guest bedroom before having to leave again, Zoe put in a full day at Iron Maiden, then grabbed a few things from her house before returning to Gabe and Murph’s place. Now she looked around at her new albeit temporary bedroom. Walnut hardwood floors spread all around her, a chandelier dangled from a vaulted ceiling, sheer white curtains captured loads of pretty white light, and the rest of the room was decorated in shades of gray and soft white. The bed was topped with lots of bright colors, and that was the only vibrant thing about the otherwise elegant room.
It was gorgeous, and best of all, it had adequate air conditioning. Last night she’d slept extremely well, and she was looking forward to more of that.
Zoe was taking a few photos to send to Pete when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. Suddenly, Gabe appeared in the doorway wearing a pair of beat-up jeans and a T-shirt that emphasized the size of his biceps. He leaned against the wall.
“Settled in?”
“I mean, I only brought my one bag, so yeah.” She figured it was enough for now, she could always go home and grab more if she needed.
“Not fully committed, yet. I get it.” He laughed and tapped the wall. “Murph said she only showed you the gy
m. Come on, I’ll give you the official tour that you didn’t get last night.
He started with the meditation garden, complete with a flowing fountain, angel statue, and koi pond, and ending with the game room, or “man cave,” as he called it. “Not much time for Xbox these days, but every so often, I like to kick my sister’s butt in a game of Smash.” He picked up the Switch controllers. “Do you play?”
Zoe held back a smile. “Maybe once or twice.” It was a lie, one she figured would come in handy later if he decided to challenge her. She played Smash with her brother at least once a week when she hung out at his place on his off-days. Her favorite was purple Kirby, and she could do some severe damage.
There were old game machines in this room, as well. Pinball and a billiards table, a few old-school video games like Donkey Kong and Centipede, and something he called “pachinko.” Several boxes were still laying around, but for the most part, he’d gotten the room in square order, complete with old movie posters on the wall.
“What’s this?” She pointed to a framed button inside a shadow box.
“That’s my grandfather’s May the Force Be With You button. He got it on opening day in ’77 or whenever it was.”
“Wow, your grandfather’s a big Star Wars fan? So’s my dad.” Well, he was, Zoe thought miserably. Back when Dad could recall the plethora of details that made up the universe of the 42-year-old movie. It was some of the happiest memories Zoe had of her father. He was gone so often, rarely made himself available to Zoe and Pete when they were kids, but they’d watched almost all of the Stars Wars movies together.
“Yeah? That’s so cool. I’m a big fan of your dad, you know. I used to watch him as a kid. Pop would go over all the greats. Kip Reynolds, Dan Marino, Joe Montana. How’s he doing, by the way? Your father, I mean.”
Zoe hesitated before saying, “He’s okay. In a retirement home now that my mom is gone. Driving everyone crazy.”
“Nah, I bet everyone loves him. Your dad seemed like a charmer, always joking around.”
He had been, though he hadn’t actually spent much time joking around with his kids. He’d loved them, he’d supported them, but it was clear they were not his priority. “Oh, yes. They love him alright.”
“And your mother? What happened to her?”
“She died last year of a massive stroke. It was a shock and we, Pete and I, and my father, well…” Zoe took in shuddering breath, not wanting to talk about her father or her mother any more.
“I’m sorry, Zoe.”
“Thank you. I miss her.” I miss them both. Needing to change the subject, she said, “Did you want to get something to eat? I’m kind of starving and I can run to the store. Grab some groceries.”
“Did you want to see the gym first?” he asked.
“Oh, Murph showed it to me before showing me my room, remember?”
“Right, I forgot. Must be the ball I caught with my head yesterday.”
She laughed, liking that he could poke fun at himself.
“I’m in the mood for sushi and I know a great place that delivers.”
“So long as we split the bill, that sounds good.”
After discussing what they wanted, Gabe ordered sushi while she walked around the living room, checking out framed football paraphernalia along the walls, as well as old photos of a smiling couple with two small children. “Are these your parents?”
“Yep.”
“Good-looking couple.” She could definitely see where he and his sister had gotten their stunning good looks. As a child, he’d been more blond, though the stormy blue eyes were unmistakably Gabe.
“Thanks. I remember a lot about them, surprisingly. Details you wouldn’t think, like the way my father cleared his throat often after every meal, or the way my mom would throw her head back with every laugh.”
“It must be hard to grow up without your parents.” At least she’d had a lot of time with her parents, and she still had her father, though losing her father to Alzheimer’s was a completely different way of saying goodbye. Slowly and painfully, though she could still hold her father’s hand whenever she wanted.
“It was at first. At least for me. I don’t think my sister remembers much. To her, it’s like our grandparents always raised us. Luckily, Mimi and Pop were pretty active. They could keep up with us. I feel guilty sometimes that they had to raise more kids when they thought they were done, you know?”
“Aww, that’s a sad way to think of it. I’m sure they loved raising you and your sister.”
“God, no. I was a terror. Gave them so much hell.” He laughed and pulled out a bottle of white wine, uncorking and pouring himself a glass. “That’s why they threw me into football, so I could channel that energy into something. Care for some?”
She thought about it for half a second. It was all so much to get used to. The casualness of hanging out with a client, seeing him at home, and now they were going to share a bottle.
What the hell. It’d been a stressful week, and besides, she was having a nice time with Gabe.
“Sure.”
He poured the glass and brought it around the island. When he handed off the glass, his fingers brushed against hers. His hands were large, rough, and strong, his arms lean and corded. Something clenched tightly in her chest even as he kept moving and chatting about his family.
Apparently, his grandfather had given him an ultimatum as a teen to either get his shit together or go live with distant family, and because Gabe had enough sense not to want to lose his family all over again, he straightened himself out. Football had done the trick—it kept his grades from slipping, his focus sharp, and his body…in great shape.
Yes.
She sipped from her wine and tried not to stare at Exhibit A.
She would have to agree.
While they waited for the food to arrive, she took a seat at the counter while he stood on the adjacent end, asking her questions about her childhood. She focused mainly on her close relationship with Pete, who’d played football in high school and college, but hadn’t felt driven to pursue it professionally.
“Was your Dad disappointed about that?” he asked.
“I want to say no, but I think he was. And Pete knew it, too. I think it’s why Pete played as long as he did. Football was everything to Dad, so if you had that in common with him, it was so much easier to connect with him.”
Gabe frowned. “So you didn’t have a great relationship with your dad?”
Zoe hesitated, trying to separate reason from emotion. Trying to be fair. “He’s a good man. A good father. He was just an absent one most of the time.”
He nodded slowly. “Is that why you got into training? To try to connect with him?”
“To be honest, it was the reason, but only at first. Once I started my studies, it became a true passion for me. And I found I was actually pretty good at it, too, so…”
She shrugged and Gabe shook his head. “You’re better than good at it, Zoe.”
She cocked a brow. “You’ve only done one session with me, Gabe.”
“One was more than enough. And yet, not nearly enough, too.”
At his words and the warm look on his expression, Zoe felt something inside her melt. She opened her mouth, not sure what she was going to say, but Gabe’s phone buzzed. Glancing down, he tapped something on the screen. “Food’s here. Be right back.”
Zoe leaned against an armoire and listened as Gabe answered the door. The delivery guy asked for an autograph and Gabe cheerfully agreed. She smiled. She remembered her dad doing the same years ago.
“Let’s eat,” he said when he returned with the sushi boxes. He set everything down in front of a giant screen TV and turned on Netflix. She couldn’t remember what they watched, because it mostly served as background noise. As they ate, they went on talking about college, football, and favorite places to eat in town. She learned how much he really missed Chicago, but he avoided talking about his old team, and she knew there was resentment and hurt t
here. She’d also seen for herself at practice yesterday how reluctant he’d been to be friendly with the guys on his new team.
He just needed some time to adjust, she realized.
And maybe he just needed a friend, too.
Could she be that for him?
When she was done with the wine, she poured herself another glass. She wanted to keep feeling the way she was feeling a little while longer. It was a refreshing change from the stress she’d been feeling lately. Chilling, Netflixing, eating delicious sushi and laughing with Gabe. Not Gabe Murphy, wide receiver. Just Gabe.
“What was your sister saying yesterday?”
“When?”
“After you caught the ball with your head.”
He flicked a piece of rice at her. “You mean the day I kicked ass and impressed Coach?”
“Mmm, that’s debatable.” Zoe laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Don’t.” He reached out and gently pulled her hand away. “Don’t cover your smile. It’s gorgeous. And sexy as hell.”
She quieted and tried to swallow as softly as she could. There was something electric in the air between them, something she could almost grab and wrap around them both like a warm blanket.
“She was quoting lines from Austin Powers.”
“The old 90s movie?”
“Yes. You want to see it? I can put it on right now, if you want…” He was already grabbing the remote, searching his database to find the movie in question. Zoe watched him, a little kid ready to show off his plastic dinosaur collection to the girl next door. As cute as it was, she didn’t care about Austin Powers. She cared about the man sitting next to her, perfectly happy and at home.
“Here it is—it’s the scene with all the head puns.”
When he spoke again, she flinched. She hadn’t realized it, but she’d been leaning into his space, preparing herself to cozy up and watch. So when he leaned back, their shoulders brushed against each other.
Surprised, he stared at her with those damn sexy eyes.
