Mal’s heart twisted at the defeated sound of Gaby’s voice. She had no idea of what to say to the kid. “Was today the first day you’ve been back to school?”
“I went back for a half day yesterday. The kids have been nice, but it doesn’t affect them. They don’t understand.”
Turning onto the entrance ramp to the highway, Mal checked her blind spot then merged into traffic before responding. “I doubt anyone who hasn’t experienced it will understand.”
“They’re too absorbed in their own lives to really pay attention. There’s a winter dance at school this weekend and that’s all they can talk about.” Gaby seemed in the mood to talk.
“Were you supposed to go? To the dance?” It would be horrible if she had to miss it, especially if she’d been looking forward to going. “I can bring you in and wait until the party is over. If you want to go.”
The teen fussed with the hem of her skirt, not looking up, but, Mal was certain, not truly seeing anything either. “Mom said I could go if I went with a big group of friends. She thought I was too young to date. I’d planned to go, but I’d probably be too much of a Debby Downer now.”
It would be good to give the girl something to do, to keep her mind off what she’d be missing. “Things are pretty hectic at the shop for a couple of weeks before Valentine’s day. Would you like to help out there?”
Mal felt rather than saw Gaby whip her head up and swivel her direction. Ah, she’d said something of interest. “Your flower shop? What would I have to do? I’m not very creative.”
“We need help with checking the customers out once they’re ready and cleaning up. There wouldn’t be any floral design or anything like that. I’m so busy this time of year arranging flowers, I don’t have much time to wait on customers.”
“I don’t know how to run a cash register.”
“You know math, right?” Mal turned in time to see Gaby smirk, then nod. “So you’ll be able to count out change. We can teach you everything else. What do you say? We can start your training today. If you don’t have too much homework, that is.”
“The teachers have taken pity on me. What I have can be done in less than an hour tonight.”
“Okay. You’re in. It will be crazy, but I think you’ll adapt. By the way, I have an appointment tomorrow to talk to the assistant principal at Granite Pointe High School. Mr. Fleming provided me with your transcripts, so I’m going to start the process to get you enrolled. We’ll have to decide when you want to make the switch. You need to let me know when you’re ready to transfer.”
Please let it happen sooner than later. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to handle this commute to get Gaby to school and back. At least once she opened the new store, close to Gaby’s school, she’d only have to travel in once a day instead of twice. And with the shop’s hours, it wouldn’t be at peak traffic times.
Gaby plucked at a string on her hem again. “I’d like to start as soon as possible I think. I think starting over will be...better for me. Maybe by Monday?”
Mal glanced at her, surprised. “That fast?”
Gaby shrugged. “Do you know if they wear uniforms at the new school?”
“Nope, sure don’t. I think it’s pretty laid back.”
“Is there a track team?”
Mal grinned. “A damn good one. My friend, Sam, uh, Mr. Kerrigan, is the coach. You’ll like him.”
Pulling off the highway onto Front Street, Mal coasted to a stop at a red light next to a fast food restaurant. Even with the windows closed, chatter and laughter was audible from a group of teens clustered around a picnic table at the front. Gaby gazed out the window at them, a wistful expression on her face.
“Can we drive through there? I forgot to take a lunch to school, and I left my wallet in my room. All I’ve had to eat were those two power bars. I’m hungry. I can pay you back.”
“You should have said something sooner. I’d have stopped in Boston.” Mal checked over her shoulder then crossed two lanes of traffic into the parking lot of the burger joint. “And don’t worry about paying me back. I’m going to put you to work, remember? I’ll just garnish your wages.”
Gaby giggled, the delightful trill pleasing to the ear. “Garnish. I’m picturing a paycheck with parsley on it.”
“Hmm, maybe I’ll pay you in herbs.” Mal laughed and gestured to the menu board outside the driver side window. “What do you want?”
Due to the detour at the drive-through, they didn’t make it back to the store until after four. Malin introduced Gaby to Chloe. According to Chloe, Dad had cruised back to the store fifteen minutes earlier to pick up the remaining deliveries, then went right back out to finish. While Gaby stepped into the back room to hang up her jacket, Mal pulled Chloe aside to find out how Dad seemed. He looked better, Chloe reported, and walked in with a to-go cup of coffee in his hand. Mal could only hope he hadn’t spiked his coffee with anything stronger than cream and sugar.
After returning a few phone calls, Mal was ready to make her run to the grocery. She found Chloe standing in front of the cash register giving Gaby a lesson. Gaby had the owner’s manual clutched between her hands but watched intently while Chloe pointed to different keys and explained their purpose. Good thing they’d found the manual. The best word to describe Chloe’s presentation was scattered.
“You two good? I want to get to the grocery before all the other sundowners.” Mal detested being in the store when it was thronged with harried office workers trying to find something to fix for dinner. Hangry, that curious state of hungry and angry, was not a great way to shop.
Gaby raised her gaze away from the buckshot manner of Chloe’s instruction. Her sister’s expression seemed dazed and apologetic. “Can you get some protein mix? This morning Coach said I probably wasn’t getting enough and recommended adding a shake at the end of each day.”
“Sure. Any special kind?” Mal pulled a pen from the cup on the counter and wrote on the list.
“I like chocolate.”
Mal wasn’t exactly sure what to look for, but how tough could it be to pick out a protein powder? “Who doesn’t like chocolate?” she asked.
Chloe snorted. “I don’t. I prefer fruit flavors, strawberry, raspberry. Even blueberry is better than chocolate.”
Chloe’s statement sparked a debate between the two girls, and Mal watched their interaction for a moment. At twenty, Chloe was only five years older than Gaby, and the age difference didn’t seem to bother the younger girl. Where Gaby had been guarded and reserved last night and again this morning, she didn’t display the same behavior with Chloe. Mal could tell the girls were already friends. Emotion prickled against her breastbone. Envy? Gaby had accepted Chloe nearly instantly.
Mal ruthlessly crammed the bright spike of jealousy to the back of her mind. Gaby would eventually warm to her, maybe even like her a little. It would take time. But for now, to Gaby, Mal was just the daughter Harriet didn’t want. Grabbing her keys, Mal escaped the shop.
Thankfully, the grocery wasn’t too busy. She’d been making good time, running through the aisles, grabbing boxes and cans and tossing them into her cart as she methodically moved from one area to the next. By the time she’d finished her list, she swung through the health food section where the volume of choice in protein mixes daunted her.
“There must be five hundred options here.” Aggravated, she had voiced the thought aloud.
“Actually, it’s probably closer to six hundred.”
Whipping her head at the voice, she caught sight of Gunnar, laughing as he approached from the end of the aisle.
He looked good. Dressed in workout clothes, the high-tech material hugged his thighs like a second skin. Broad shoulders, hidden by the heavy fleece he wore, narrowed to a slim waist and extra long legs. It wasn’t polite to stare, Mal knew, but couldn’t drag her eyes away.
At least Gunnar appeared to be checking her out with the same intensity she studied him. The glimmer in his eyes resembled the look o
f a lion with a very tasty meal. She was definitely moving into dangerous territory.
He gestured to the shelves without taking his eyes from her. “What are you looking for? Can I help?”
Oh, she’d like to tell him honestly what she was looking for. Heat flashed into her cheeks, then traveled to the tips of her ears. His grin told her everything she needed to know. Curse her fair coloring. Even if she could hide her thoughts, the red in her cheeks was a dead giveaway to where her thoughts had rambled.
“Uh...” She cleared the frog lodged in her throat. “Gaby’s coach told her to get extra protein in her diet. I didn’t realize I’d have this many choices.”
“Did the coach recommend any specific kind? There’s energy boost, carb control, muscle-maker.”
“She didn’t say. Just protein mix.” At least Gunnar knew what he was talking about.
“Okay. Did Gaby have a preference?”
“Chocolate. Which eliminates half of what’s here. But now I have to decide between dark chocolate, royal fudge, milk, or chocolate peanut butter.”
Gunnar rolled his eyes then flashed her a quicksilver grin. “What sport is she in?”
“Track. Does that make a difference?”
“Runners need protein that will enhance muscle recovery, so something with a certain type of amino acid works best. The best option would be to get it from food, like eggs, chicken, lean beef, or pork. But if she needs something immediately after practice, or as a supplement at the end of the day, she can mix one of these powders with water.”
“That seems easy enough.”
He picked a canister from the shelf and showed her the nutrition table. “A shake with whey or casein works best to replenish glycogen depleted by the exercise. Sorry, I’m probably giving you too much information. This one would work, and look...it’s chocolate.”
Laughing, she reached to take the container from him, planning to toss it in the basket with the rest of the groceries. Her fingers brushed across his, sending a thrill of heat up her arm. Breath stalled in her lungs when Gunnar covered her hand with his. Her gaze flew to his face where his eyes had widened and something—desire?—glowed in the depths. Finally remembering to breathe, she plucked the canister from his grasp and set it carefully in the cart, dragging her eyes away from his.
Gunnar shifted from one leg to the other and back as silence stretched between them. “Um, I wondered...uh, are you coming tonight? To the gym?”
He’d stammered. Hard to imagine, but he appeared to be as shaken as she was. “I don’t know. Maybe. But it will be later. Are you going to be there?”
“Yeah. We’ve scheduled maintenance in the locker rooms, some long overdue painting. You want to help? We could work in some body painting after everyone else leaves.”
She’d have to get better about drawing a line. He kept crossing over the feeble ones she’d been laying down.
Time to change the subject. “Hey, I need help moving some stuff. I kind of promised Gaby I’d get her bed from Boston. She had trouble sleeping last night, and it seems a small thing to do. Would you mind helping me move it? I’m pretty sure it will fit in my delivery van, but I can’t ask Dad to help.”
“Tell me when you want to do it, and I’ll bring the muscle.”
“Is tomorrow too soon? I have to run Gaby to school in the morning. If I go to the house immediately after I drop her off, I can be to work by ten-thirty at the latest.”
“You want me to ride along or just meet you?”
“If you ride with me, we leave at six.”
He swiped a hand over his short hair as if considering a perplexing problem. The whispery sound raised goose bumps on her arms. How would his hair feel under her fingers? Soft or bristly? Would it be different than the stubble on his chin? So much for drawing the line. She was sure her expression at the moment was a pure invitation for him to cross her imaginary boundary. Forcing her face into a mask of indifference shouldn’t be this hard.
He grimaced. “Six, as in the morning? I’ll be working at the club until about one, and I’ll need a couple of hours to sleep. Will you need time to gather everything together? Sheets, towels, stuffed animals?”
She laughed at the idea of boxing up a collection of stuffed animals. Gaby didn’t really seem the type, but wasn’t every girl the type? Mal had a stuffed ladybug collection hidden in the darkest corner of her closet. “Can you meet me there around nine?”
“It’s a date.”
It was not a date, she reminded herself. So not a date. Not with Gunnar. Mal suddenly wished for a tattoo. A permanent reminder she’d see daily, cautioning against getting involved with a man who was a serial dater.
It was a damn shame, even with the permanent reminder, her heart would still refuse to get the message.
Chapter 9
He was early, nearly thirty minutes ahead of schedule. The digital clock on his dash read 8:27. Gunnar took a sip of coffee from his travel mug and grimaced. He wasn’t sure why he bothered. It was cold, bitter and, to add insult to injury, decaf. He suppressed a shudder. Winter was certainly not the right time of year to forego caffeine. Come to think of it, was there ever a right time?
It was also much too early to be up after painting most of the night. They’d run into a snag, and what should have been a three-hour job had stretched to double the time. Who the hell added texture to the walls of a locker room? They’d put on two coats, and it still wasn’t perfect. He’d face-planted on his bed at three-thirty and hadn’t moved until the alarm squawked at seven.
There were very few reasons he would get up this early, especially to do a favor that included manual labor. Lucky for Malin, spending time with her was at the top of his list.
According to the British-accented GPS in his truck, his destination was on the right. The Secret Garden delivery van was parked in the driveway of a two-story Victorian house. Situated on a large corner lot, it featured towering trees, leaded glass windows, and gingerbread trim.
Gunnar stopped in front of the house, shoved the gearshift into park, and surveyed the surroundings. It was like he’d been dropped into the land of milk and honey. No wonder Gaby behaved as a pampered princess. It appeared she came by it naturally. People in this neighborhood led lives of privilege and preferential treatment. It looked like plenty of trust fund families resided on the street. They probably worked as hard for their money as he did, but he had better things on which to spend his wealth.
Like creating a business to provide a decent living, a roof over his head, put food on the table. And still have a bit left over to buy flowers from his favorite florist.
He considered himself in a relationship with Mal. Oh, not that kind of relationship, although he held out hope. She was a friend first, but he wouldn’t mind if they escalated their friendship to a new level. Unfortunately, she seemed inclined to keep him at arm’s length. Kissing her the other night in the gym had tripped his heart and made his breath falter in a way it hadn’t in a long time. Yesterday, he’d found himself recalling the moment throughout the day. But running into her in the grocery store, her attitude made it clear. She’d relegated him back to his original starting position of a guy who was a friend. Dammit.
Thinking about their non-relationship had certainly taken his mind off the accounting issues plaguing him at the gym. A muscle popped in his jaw. Still didn’t have answers for the mystery of where the money was going. The situation annoyed him. He was beginning to wonder if someone had cooked the books before he’d bought the gym and had figured out a way to continue the practice with the new owner. The suspect list in that case was fairly small.
He shook off his meandering thoughts and jumped out of the truck. The truck’s locks chirped when he pressed the button on his key fob. He pocketed the keys, then made his way up the shrub-lined front walk. He hunched his shoulders against the cold morning air. A small cloud of steam floated in front of his face when he huffed out a breath. The soft lamenting coo of a mourning dove accompanied each step to
the porch. The bird flew away with a loud, whistling flap of its wings. Gunnar pressed the doorbell and looked around the comfy porch as the tinny, insistent ringing faded away.
Footsteps approached the door. When it swung opened, Mal appeared, her eyes red.
“I didn’t expect you this soon,” she greeted him, her voice curiously flat.
“Mal? Are you... Were you crying?”
She swiped a hand over her face, as if to scrub away the traces of tears lingering on her smooth cheeks. “I can’t... I’m so damn...”
Gunnar stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to his chest. She burrowed in, hiding her face against his heart. She was trembling. Laying his cheek on the crown of her head, he let his hands travel the length of her spine, soothing and calming until the tremors ceased. He didn’t let her go, just held on and relished the sweet sensation of her body pressed against his.
Sighing, she finally stepped back and out of his embrace. Pink color had flooded into her cheeks.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Talk to me, Mal. What’s going on?”
She shook her head, then grabbed his arm, pulled him inside, and shut the door. A forlorn, dried-up bouquet sat on a circular table, situated on an expensive Persian rug at the base of an ornate staircase. Except for the dead flowers, the entry hall looked like something straight out of one of those hoity-toity decor magazines his mother favored. He followed Mal into the front parlor. She took a seat on an uncomfortable-looking settee and patted the space next to her.
“I thought I’d have time to pull it together before you showed up. I figured I’d be okay for an hour or so by myself.”
“And I had the nerve to show up before you were ready.”
Her brow furrowed as she nodded. “After I dropped Gaby at school, I came right over. Thought I’d clear out the refrigerator before I started packing her stuff.”
Bed Of Roses (The Five Senses Series Book 4) Page 9
