Bed Of Roses (The Five Senses Series Book 4)

by Gemma Brocato

  “Of course I am.” She’d come to love Gaby in the short time they’d been living in the same house. On that first day, she’d never have guessed this would happen. How quickly things had changed. The idea that Gaby would be jerked away from her and moved to another state intensified the ache lodged at the base of her skull. “I want her to stay.”

  “I must say I’m delighted to hear this. I know Mrs. Jansen truly wanted you to be a part of Gabriella’s life. She put far greater emphasis on the guardianship issue of the estate than on any other aspect of her will.”

  Harriet had told her attorney how important it was to have Mal in Gaby’s life? Old resentments, pain she’d thought she’d successfully buried for good in the past two weeks, clawed hurtfully up her spine. Her eyes stung while her vision swam in the wake of the resurrected hurts. Squeezing her fist tightly around the pen, she squashed the chafing grief. Now was not the time. Her focus had to be Gaby.

  The girl had become more than a sister. She’d become a friend. She asked, “Okay. What’s our next step? How do we fight this?”

  * * * *

  By the time she’d finished talking to Anthony Fleming, she’d arranged a meeting with him for late the next day to discuss their options. Hopefully, she’d find out more about the cousins who had popped out of the woodwork, laying claim to her sister. Fleming had confided he thought they were more interested in Gaby’s trust fund than in the girl herself.

  The idea rankled in the worst way. That this couple could secure custody of Gaby, then neglect her while they lived the good life on a trust fund set up for the kid’s future. The money belonged to Gaby. No one else. Money she knew Gaby would gladly forfeit if it meant her mother was still alive. Sadness for Gaby’s situation competed with anger at Burton Jansen. Why hadn’t the man taken better care of his family?

  Mal needed a way to work off the excess emotion building like a volcano in her chest. She didn’t need a legal nightmare on top of the craziness that came with being a florist on Valentine’s Day. She’d have gone to the café to talk to Jem, but her friend was in Las Vegas getting married. And truthfully, she craved time with Gunnar. She needed to have him smile at her as he teased and kissed the anger and fear away. Maybe he’d have suggestions about how to win a court trial for guardianship rights to Gaby. God forbid it went that far.

  “Chloe,” she said once her assistant returned from lunch. “Will you be okay if I leave for an hour? Selma, you can help with customers if necessary can’t you?”

  Selma looked up from the vase of daisies she was working with and nodded.

  Chloe grinned and winked at her “Sure, Malin. Take your time. No need to rush back.”

  Heat flooded Malin’s cheeks. “It’s not like that, Chloe.”

  She ducked behind the counter to grab her purse. As she made her way out the door, she stopped to pull her coat from its hook, then slid her arms into the sleeves. She closed her eyes for an instant, imagining how good it would feel to have Gunnar slip his hands inside the coat and hold her, telling her everything would work out for her and Gaby. Anxiety dug sharp claws into her gut.

  Charly greeted her warmly when she walked through the entry to the gym. “Hey, Mal. Wow, you’re getting time off on Valentine’s Day?”

  Shooting for calm, she asked. “Is Gunnar in his office?”

  The woman glanced through the windows separating the lobby from the fitness floor. “He was here earlier. You might try his office.”

  Mal nodded then left as the other woman turned to greet another member. As Mal walked across the gym, she looked up at his office. The blinds were tilted to half-closed, but light from the fluorescent ceiling fixtures filtered out. Movement from within flickered against the blinds.

  Hitching her purse higher on her shoulder, she climbed the stairs. She paused at the top before knocking. Gunnar’s voice wafted through his office door. The low grumble settled easily on her heart. She savored the soothing sensation for a moment before rapping her knuckles lightly on the door, then twisting the knob to push it open.

  The gentle embrace his voice had on her heart morphed to a crushing vise at the sight of Ashleigh Aubrey-Smith flush against Gunnar, her arms encircling his neck, lips hoovering his mouth. Gunnar clutched the woman’s skinny arms, his hands holding her in place. His face had been partially turned from the door when she barged in, but at the sound of her gasp, he twisted his head her direction. Guilt flared on his face.

  “Malin!”

  Clutching her arm over the sharp pain in her stomach, she fought for breath. She wheezed once, twice, before finding her voice. “Jesus Christ. You son of a bitch!”

  * * * *

  “It’s not what you think, Malin.” Gunnar thrust Ashleigh away.

  “Bullshit!” Blinking rapidly, she spun toward the door.

  “Malin, wait!” Gunnar moved in Mal’s direction, but Ashleigh laid her hand on his bicep and squeezed like a talon. Dammit. The woman was not making this any better. He jerked his arm away and stepped toward Mal. “Please, let me explain. This isn’t what it looks like.”

  Grabbing her arm, he tugged, trying to pull her around to face him. Mal whirled, her purse whacking the doorframe. She shook off his hand, her eyes narrowed under stormy brows, arms folded over her chest. “Really, Gunnar? Because it looked like you were kissing Ashleigh. It looked like you’ve found a new friend.” She scoffed and made a show of consulting at her watch. “Oh, look! It’s been three weeks. Time to move on. Right on schedule. You bastard.”

  Ashleigh had slunk to his side and laid claim to his arm again. “Lover, just ignore her. She isn’t important.”

  He spared a glance at the socialite and frowned when her dark navy fingernails dug into his arm. Like he was her fucking possession. “She’s important—no, she’s vital to me. Take your hand off me, Ashleigh.”

  Once Ashleigh took a step back, he trained his attention back on Malin, who waited, lips compressed into a thin line, chin trembling.

  He put his hands on her shoulders but she twisted away.

  She took a step closer to the exit. “I knew better. I should have stuck to my resolve to just stay friends with you.”

  “Mal—” he began.

  “No!” Her hand flew up in the face of his reply. “No, you don’t have to explain. This is what I expected to happen. It fits your track record. Love-em and leave-em Gunnar. It’s expected. It’s what you do.”

  “Daisy Mae, she means nothing to me.”

  “Hey!” Ashleigh protested.

  He shot the other woman a look. “You should go.”

  “No, Ashleigh. You should stay.” Mal glowered at him while she spoke. “I don’t want him anymore.”

  Swift, sharp pain pierced his heart. He battled the urge to check his chest for a bloody, gaping hole. “You don’t mean that, Daisy Mae.”

  “You don’t get to call me that anymore. In fact, you don’t get to call me anything anymore. Don’t call, don’t text.” She turned a venomous look toward Ashleigh who hadn’t moved. “And when you need to send bouquets from now on, find yourself another damned florist.”

  “Christ, Malin. You owe it to me to let me explain. I’m not interested in any other women.

  You’re the only one for me.”

  “You have a damn funny way of showing it.” She put her hand on the doorknob and backed out of the room. “I don’t owe you anything, Gunnar.”

  The door clicked shut quietly. Gunnar felt like he’d been sucker punched. His head reeled from lack of oxygen. Bending at the waist, he propped his hands on his knees and waited for the lightheadedness to subside. Before it diminished, Ashleigh snuggled up behind him, hips to ass, and walked her fingers up his spine.

  He reared upright and wheeled away from her, putting as much distance between them as possible. A muscle popped in his jaw. He wiggled his chin from side to side, attempting to alleviate the tension. “I thought I asked you to leave.”

  “I know you weren’t serious.” Ashleigh took a ste
p closer.

  Oh fuck, he should be chasing after Malin. Through the partially closed blinds, he observed her rapid retreat across the gym, then out the front entrance. As much as he wanted to go after her and beg forgiveness, he knew in his heart Mal needed time to cool down. And, he needed to tell Ashleigh that she had a better chance of regaining her virginity than the two of them ever being a couple.

  He retreated behind the desk, hoping she’d recognize it for the barrier it was. The woman was like a shark scenting blood in the water. Blood from his lacerated heart. “I did mean it Ashleigh. I’m never going to look at you the same way I look at Mal. You’ll never occupy a place in my heart the way she does. And you sure as hell won’t ever share my bed.”

  Ashleigh huffed out a breath. “You’ll be sorry.”

  “I doubt it.” He pointed to the door.

  She retrieved her purse from the floor where she’d dropped it just before she’d flung herself into his arms. The wannabe femme fatale stalked across the office with her nose in the air. It was a wonder she didn’t trip. Without a backward glance, she grasped the knob and jerked the door open. Right before she stepped through, she lifted her right hand and extended her middle finger at him. “Fuck you!” she screamed, then swung the door closed with a loud bang.

  Chapter 21

  “Not in this lifetime,” he muttered as he sank onto his chair. He wouldn’t touch her with the thickest pair of latex gloves. Wheeling away from the desk, he spun around until his back faced the windows. He propped his elbows on his knees and covered the lower half of his face with his hands. He shut his eyes, but all he saw on the back of his lids was Malin’s stricken look. His eyes snapped open and he studied the file cabinets opposite.

  The door opened again. She’d come back! He whipped his head around and rose out of the chair so fast it banged against the desk.

  Rikki walked in, wiping her face with a towel. “Hey, Gun. I was just finishing up my run, and I saw Malin race out of here like her butt was on fire. She didn’t look happy. What’d you do?”

  Shoulders slumping, he dropped back into his chair and buried his head in his hands. “What the fuck haven’t I done?” he muttered.

  Rikki made a tsking sound. He heard her cross the room and take a seat across the desk from him. “Talk to me Gun. Can’t help if you don’t tell me how.”

  Lifting his head, he scrubbed his hands up his face and tunneled his fingers through his hair. “Mal walked in when another woman was kissing me.”

  “Jesus, Gunnar,” Rikki gasped. “You’re an idiot.”

  “Kissing me. It was completely one-sided. I wasn’t kissing her. Bitch grabbed me and started trying to suck my tongue into her mouth. Hell, I was trying to escape the woman’s clutches.”

  “But Malin didn’t see that.”

  He shook his head and remained quiet for a moment, battling emotions he didn’t want leaking out in front of his sister. He finally spoke, his tone flat and lifeless. “No. One second this woman, Ashleigh Aubrey-Smith, was complaining about her ex-fiancé’s demand that she return the two-carat diamond engagement ring. The next second... Bam! She lunged forward and grabbed me. I didn’t see it coming, or I’d have hidden under the desk.”

  “Do I know her?” Rikki tipped her head to the side, a frown creasing her brow. “Oh, wait! Tall, skinny woman? Wears a lot of make-up when she works out and not enough clothes to cover her...um, assets.”

  “Yep. That’s her. When she threw herself at me, I was startled. I grabbed her by the arms to try to push her away. When she shoved her tongue in my mouth I froze. And that’s when Mal had opened the door.” His gut clenched.

  “Monumentally bad timing, bro. Can I ask a question?”

  He knew what she was going to ask. What the hell was he thinking? “You just did.”

  She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Don’t be an ass. What I was wondering is why you’re still here instead of racing after Malin to explain what happened.”

  “I thought I’d give her some time to cool off. She thinks I’ve hit the end of my attention span. We’ve been together for a little over three weeks, and she thinks I’m ready to move on to another woman. Like history repeating itself. She was hurt...and mad.”

  “Of course she was, you big doofus. But giving her time probably isn’t the best course of action.” Sympathy reared in her brown eyes. She leaned forward and stretched a hand across the desk. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “You should go find her.”

  Her soft tone ate at him. He was an ass. But that stopped now. “You’re right. I need to find her and make her understand.”

  He pulled the center drawer open and snagged his keys. He stood at the same time as Rikki. Walking around the desk, he embraced his sister, grateful to her for dropping in and calling him out on his stupid behavior.

  “Go find her, Gunnar. And be prepared to grovel if necessary,” Rikki whispered. She tightened her arms around his back. “I really like Malin. Don’t give up without a fight.”

  “I... I love her.”

  Rikki pulled away. The shock in her eyes gave way to a bright smile that illuminated her face. “Whoa! That’s a first. Ever. Be sure you tell her that.”

  Gunnar kissed Rikki’ cheek, then slung his arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the door. As they crossed the gym floor toward the entrance, Rikki suggested all the different places to look for Malin to beg her forgiveness. A few of her suggestions made him think of the Where’s Waldo books he used to spend hours searching through. He hoped finding Mal proved to be an easier task.

  * * * *

  After she’d run out of Gunnar’s office, she sped toward the parking lot, digging her cell phone out of her purse. She jumped in her car, then clicked the locks shut and jammed the key in the ignition. Before she backed out of her space, she dialed the number of the shop. Chloe answered after two rings.

  Mal drew a deep breath. “Something’s come up. If I don’t come back this afternoon, can you handle things?” she asked breathlessly.

  Chloe squeaked on the other end of the line. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No... I just—” She bit her lip to still the trembling. “I can’t come back today. We close in two hours anyway. Please, Chloe. Please handle this for me.”

  The begging nature of her words must have sunk into Chloe’s brain. “Sure, Mal. Selma and I have this. Take your time. Can I... Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. This is something I have to deal with on my own. I owe you big time, Chloe. Thanks.”

  After their conversation, she’d driven up to Settler’s Lake on the north side of Granite Pointe. The day was moderately chilly, but she walked the long trail circling the lake at a brisk pace to avoid getting cold. Truthfully, she was still so steamed at Gunnar she didn’t feel the bitter bite in the air.

  Gunnar wasn’t entirely at fault. She hadn’t spared a second thought about kissing him or wrapping her legs around him. Jesus, she’d practically ripped her own clothes off in her eagerness to get him into her bed. She’d been a stupid, foolish cow.

  Cold realization hit and settled like a stone in her stomach. She hadn’t just lost her lover. She’d lost her friend. Her throat closed and tears gathered behind her eyes.

  After making the entire circuit of the small lake twice, she was torn between being mad and being sad. She kept trying to shove down the hurt, telling herself she knew to expect this outcome.

  How could she have been so stupid? She knew the risk of being involved with a man like Gunnar. She knew, better than anyone, just how fickle the man was. But she’d let his persistence and her willingness rule her normal common sense. She’d let him push his way out of the friend-zone and into her heart.

  She wrapped her arms around her body and slowed her pace. God, she was tired. Exhausted by the responsibility of running a flower shop during the busiest season. She had to be out of her mind to open a new store. Next year would be double the work. And Gunnar wouldn’t be around to help.
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  She was tired of taking care of her sister. Being mad at the woman who’d abandoned her had worn her down. Just as her dad’s drinking had. And now, Gunnar’s heart-crushing infidelity felt like a giant boulder of despair and weariness.

  But while she’d fight for Gaby, Gunnar didn’t deserve the effort. The junior Ms. A.S. was welcome to him. Maybe that bitch would have better luck holding his attention. Maybe Ashleigh would be the woman to get him to finally commit. Mal only wished the thought didn’t feel like a dull knife carving a hole in her soul. By the time she’d made it back to her car, anguish had intensified to the point where she doubled over, putting her hands on the hood. While she practiced deep breathing, she blinked back the tears making her vision watery. How was she supposed to survive the ever-growing tidal wave of shit life was sending her way?

  Gunnar was not worth crying over.

  But dammit, she argued with herself, he was. She stopped fighting the tears, twisted around and sank to the ground, her back to the tire. Drawing her knees to her chest, she buried her face against them and sobbed. And hated herself for every tear that leaked from her eyes.

  Maybe Dad had the right idea. Self-medicate until the heartache went away. Or she no longer cared. The urge for a drink had never been so wickedly strong. The yearning created a physical cramp in the pit of her stomach. One drink couldn’t hurt.

  Mal pushed up from the ground and dusted the seat of her jeans. She’d abandoned her shop at the busiest time of the year, faced losing the sister she’d just found, and was mourning the loss of a man she should never have loved.

  Chapter 22

  Gunnar’s first stop was The Secret Garden.

  Chloe said Malin had called within the last fifteen minutes to say she wouldn’t be back for the day. “She asked if I could cover until closing time. That’s really out of character for her, especially this close to Valentine’s. What’s going on? Is Ben okay?”