“Is that how it works for you?”
Gabby actually laughed. Laughed until she snorted. Until she almost felt like crying. “No, that’s not how it works for me. I don’t trust people.” The words left her body with a whoosh of air and she wondered why, of all the times and places and certainly people, did she finally admit the thing she knew to be true about herself since she turned fourteen years old. In front of Zhanna, no less.
“I don’t, either. They die.”
“They leave.”
Zhanna shrugged again. “Then there is nothing to say. Do you want salad tonight for dinner with all things on the side?”
“Okay.”
Gabby watched Zhanna move around the counter. She could see Tom lean forward trying to get her attention, trying to get just a little closer. But Zhanna kept her welcome brief and paid him little attention other than to plop a plate in front of him and turn away before he could even say thank-you.
Did Gabby appear like that with people? Always feinting left or right and out of reach? Is that how people, men in particular, saw her? She could count on two hands the number of times she’d been asked out since her breakup with Brad. She liked to blame her job, her busy schedule, her less-than-perfect figure.
All she had to do was watch Zhanna and know none of her reasons were the truth. The don’t-touch-me shuffle was a hell of thing to behold in action. And it was a bit humbling to know exactly how well Gabby had perfected its art.
The chime of the bell over the door rang again and instinctively Gabby turned to see who entered. She tried to pretend she wasn’t looking for him in particular. She told herself that every time the bell chimed and she looked toward the door.
Until the fourth time when it really was him. Seeing him made her happy.
She was a fool.
* * *
JAMIE WALKED INTO the café and paused for a second when he spotted Gabby in one of the booths. Her head was turned toward the door as though she was waiting for him. He wasn’t expecting her to be here, although he wasn’t sure why given that this was the only place open for dinner.
Maybe his subconscious brought him here looking for her.
Or maybe he was simply hungry and hadn’t felt like making his own meal. He didn’t really want to overthink things.
Except as soon as he saw her expectant expression, the words from the other day came back like a sonic boom in his ear.
Forgive me.
Jamie still couldn’t believe he said it. His own harshest critic, he’d spent the years after the scandal broke walking around with figurative mirrors surrounding him everywhere he went so he couldn’t look away from himself, couldn’t ignore who he was and what he’d done. He’d wanted to pay for his crime. But, once his self-flagellation was over, then he’d wanted people to forgive him for his actions.
At first it started with him wanting the world’s forgiveness. Not an unlikely thing to want after becoming the scoundrel of the twenty-first century. It didn’t take him long to see that wasn’t going to happen. Most strangers he met knew too much about him—or thought they did—and instantly judged him. Nothing he could do or say to change that judgment.
Instead he concentrated on his family and friends, the people who knew him, the people he’d shamed by his behavior. Some came around. Some didn’t.
Then, of course, he’d had to ask forgiveness from his ex-wife, Paula. He had no right to expect it, but he wanted it anyway. As strange as it was, of all people, she’d given it most freely.
So had his parents and his closest friends. So had the people of Hawk Island when they realized, deep inside, he was one of them.
It wasn’t until he recognized how miserable he still was after all these years that he realized the one person he forgot to ask forgiveness from was himself.
It had taken time, but eventually he got there. Once he finally achieved that, he promised himself he would never ask for forgiveness from anyone else again. It was pointless because he was the only person who needed to forgive himself. If other people granted it, he didn’t believe it. If they withheld it, he had nothing more to say to them.
Until Gabby. Gabby was different. He felt differently about her.
He hadn’t spent the years since the scandal broke being a monk. There had been a few women. More in the beginning. Women who wanted to sleep with a legend more than they cared about his reputation. Women who felt morals were sticky things, so did without.
Not women he stayed with for very long. Not women he respected very much when it came right down to it. But they were the only women he thought were still available to him. He’d joined the ranks of the dishonorable and so it seemed only right they should mingle amongst them.
Hell, Zhanna was the really only admirable and eligible woman he’d met in the past eight years. The only woman he’d gotten to know and had let her know him.
Now there was Gabby. With her big eyes and hopeful expression tempered by so much caution. She was such a contradiction. The way she struck out on her own, made herself a career and then remade herself when she needed to. She showed up every day on the beach ready to do battle like a Valkyrie yet when he’d gotten close, too close, she’d shrunk inside herself so far he wondered if she wasn’t a turtle.
Today had been the first day she hadn’t met him on the beach. He missed her.
Decision made, Jamie slid into the booth across from her. He wasn’t sure where to start and, for the first time, found himself hoping she might take the lead.
“Hey.”
Not a bad opening, he decided. “Hey.”
“Sorry for bolting like I did the other day.”
“You call what you did bolting?”
She tilted her head and glared. “I’m getting faster and I’m running farther, I’ll have you know.”
“Yes, you are.”
“But I will admit to not being the fastest runner.”
“Not even close.”
“What happened to you wanting to seduce me? Do I have to remind you that insulting me is not the best way to go about it.”
He did want to seduce her. He wanted her naked and underneath him. He wanted to fill his hands with her breasts and plunge into her so deeply she would take away all his loneliness.
And where the hell had that come from?
Stranger still, as much as he wanted all those things from her, he wanted something else, too.
“We should go out on a date.”
“A date?”
“Yes. An off-island-nice-napkins-restaurant date. I’ll pick you up, we’ll ferry to the mainland and we’ll eat lobster. That kind of date.”
“A date so you can continue to seduce me.”
“Well, that is part of the purpose of the date and I’m not saying I won’t be trying the whole time. But also a date is a chance to sit and talk and eat. Get to know each other. I don’t mention taking you to bed because it would be considered ungentlemanly, even though I’m thinking about it. And you don’t talk about the book that I’m never going to agree to write with you. A date.”
He could see her struggle. Could see the debate she was holding in her mind. Worse, he could tell immediately when she decided to say no.
Quickly, he reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “It’s a date, Gabby. Not a lifetime commitment. While I understand I have a certain reputation, you can be damn sure I’m not going to run out on you in the middle of it, or do some other woman in the bathroom during it. Okay?”
She leaned forward with urgency. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to like you. I don’t want to like you…more.”
He smiled. “You like me.”
“Just barely.”
“I haven’t been on a date with someone who liked me in a long time. If I consent to let you talk about the book I’m never going to agree to write, will you come?”
“This is a huge mistake.” She sighed.
He was breaking her down, which, if he thought about it, didn’t do much for his e
go. No, he hadn’t taken out anyone who liked him for more than a good screw. But he also hadn’t had to browbeat anyone into spending an evening with him, either.
“Come on, Gabby. You know you want to. Dinner, candles, tablecloths and lobster with extra butter.”
“I refuse to wear a bib,” she said finally caving.
“Deal.”
“And just so you know, I haven’t forgiven you. I guess I need to say that.”
Jamie ignored the ball of lead in his stomach. “Haven’t forgiven me…yet.”
CHAPTER NINE
THE KNOCKING WOKE her up and Zhanna growled into her pillow. It was Monday morning and the only day she was allowed to sleep past 6:00 a.m.
Somebody better be dying. No, that upset her. Somebody better have the most wonderful news ever.
Opening an eye she glanced at the clock and registered that it was already nine. She’d slept way beyond what she normally did. Perhaps because she had been awake most of the night tossing and turning and thinking.
Always thinking.
It was Tom’s fault.
The knocking started to falter as if the person on the other side was no longer confident somebody was home.
“I’m coming!” Zhanna tumbled out of bed and looked down. Cotton shorts and a tank top. Not naked. She flicked a hand through her hair to push it off her face and made her way from the bedroom to the single room that made up the rest of the apartment.
She could smell coffee and bacon wafting up from Adel’s below and the aroma was enough to give her the jolt she needed. A little shoulder wiggle and some smoothing of her hair down around her back and she was ready to face whoever was on the other side of the door.
More than likely it was Adel asking for help. She probably had a crowd of customers—unlikely on a Monday morning—and needed another pair of hands. Zhanna would pout and remind Adel this was her day off. Then she would shower and go help.
There wasn’t anything Zhanna wouldn’t do for Adel. She wondered if the older woman knew that.
Opening the door, she framed her lips into a premature pout. Only it wasn’t Adel.
“Hi,” Tom said.
Zhanna tried to recall what her hair and pajamas looked like. But knowing she wasn’t naked and she’d made an effort to smooth her hair was all she could remember.
She swallowed. “Tom.”
“I woke you. Shoot. I knew you had this morning off, but I wasn’t sure if you were an early riser or late one.”
What did he want? Why was he here? Hadn’t she made enough of a fool out of herself the last time they spoke? These were all very good questions she could be asking him. Instead she crossed one leg over the other and turned her shoulders in on the hope he would see less of her pajamas, which for some reason were making her blush.
She would not blush.
“I was thinking of you and wondered… Oh, hell.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a ball of white fuzz.
Purring white fuzz.
“I wasn’t sure if you were a cat person or a dog person. You were pretty good with Trixie, I thought. Plus, I didn’t really have any small dogs and large dogs aren’t great in apartments. They really need a yard to run around in. But I thought maybe a kitten… Please say something.”
The urge to touch it was nearly irresistible. But if she touched it, she would hold it. If she held it, she would love it. If she loved it…it would die.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Allergic?”
She shook her head. “I’m not supposed to have pets.”
“I don’t think Adel would give you too much grief over a little kitten. She’s the smallest of the litter so I doubt she’ll grow to be very big. And, well, her mother died and her siblings have all been adopted so she’s got no family left.”
Zhanna blinked then and stared at the fuzz ball. “Why did her mother die?”
“I don’t know. The family who brought the kittens in found them with the mother, but the mother was already gone so they didn’t bring her to me.”
“She’s got no one?”
Tom smiled. “I guess she’s got me. I just thought for company— You talked about wanting to get Jamie a dog and I thought you could use a pet, too.”
“Shep died.”
Zhanna knew she wasn’t making much sense. Her fingers were twitching and she could feel herself weakening. Then the little white fuzz ball moved and opened its tiny eyes and squeaked.
“Give me.” Zhanna held out her hands and Tom carefully transferred the tiny animal to her. She brought it to her chest and kissed the tiny head. The kitten purred louder, then snuggled in for a nap.
“Love. I knew it,” Tom said smugly.
Since she couldn’t refute him, she made no comment. “Is that all you wanted?”
He looked at her for a moment and she couldn’t look away. “For now. You’re going to need supplies. I brought some stuff from my office you’ll need. The litter box, a food dish and kitten food. I’ll go get it.”
“You were very confident, no?”
“I was. Love beats fear every time.”
He jogged down the steps that ran along the outside of the diner to his car. She watched him pull out bags of supplies from the trunk.
“He thinks he’s won, but I’m made of sterner stuff. I can resist his manly charm. I hope. For now, we must name you little one.” Zhanna stepped out on to the deck. “Tom, what is it? Boy or girl?”
“Girl.”
“I should have known,” she said to the kitten. “You’re too pretty to be boy.”
He returned with two large bags in his hands. She watched him warily as he went inside her home with more ease than he should have.
“You’re going to want to find a private spot for the kitty litter. Cats apparently have a little shame when it comes to doing their business, unlike dogs who will just drop their butts anywhere they please. Sometimes a little curtain around it—”
“I’m not going to sleep with you,” Zhanna blurted.
Tom straightened from where he’d been unloading the bag. He crossed his arms over his chest and ducked his head. “Is that what you think this is about?”
“Isn’t it?” She cradled the fuzz against her cheek and the animal purred so loud it shook. Zhanna would never tell him but she’d slept with men for worse reasons.
Seemingly at a loss for words, he eventually burst out laughing. “You know, I suppose it is. I wanted to do something nice for you so you would like me. I want you to like me because I like you. And yes, I hope maybe someday you’ll like me enough to sleep with me. Who knew I was such a cad?”
“I do not know cad and I do like you. But—”
“You’re scared.”
“Reserved,” she corrected.
“Shaking in your boots.”
“Cautious.”
Tom shook his head. “You going to tell me who it was? Who made you so…cautious.”
No, because he wouldn’t understand. Nobody ever did when she told people. “Thank you for Mary.”
“Mary, is it?”
“Good American name. I want to acclimate to my new country.”
“She’ll be good company. If you ever want people company, you know where to find me. And in two weeks you need to bring her to the clinic for a checkup and shots.”
Zhanna nodded and Tom slowly made his way to the door. She could see he was reluctant to leave, as though he could find some magic words which would make her ask him to stay. Only there weren’t any words. There was only fear…like he said.
“See you.”
Crazily, she felt tears well in her eyes. “Of course you will see me. You come to eat at my counter almost every day.”
“Yeah, I guess I should probably start learning to cook. Take care, Zhanna. And remember, two weeks.”
He trotted down the stairs and she watched him get in his car and then watched him drive away until she could no longer see his car on the road.
It was what
she wanted. It was essentially what she’d asked him to do by not asking him to stay. His only option was to go. So why did she feel so sad?
“Come, Mary, let’s go inside and make you up a nice bed. We can be lonely together.”
* * *
NIGHT HAD FALLEN on the island, but as Jamie pulled up in front of the B and B, Gabby realized how early it really was. Not even ten o’clock.
Pathetic.
Together they sat silently for a minute until the tension thickened to the consistency of pudding. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“So, that was awful,” she announced.
Jamie tilted his head back and laughed. A true belly laugh with lots of power behind it. Gabby wasn’t exactly sure what was so funny.
“Yes, it was. You were completely uncomfortable. There was a brief second I actually thought you might throw up right there on the table.”
He had no idea how close they’d come to that actually happening. However, Gabby was not going to take all the blame. “It’s not like I didn’t tell you a date was a bad idea.”
“Then why did you agree to go out?”
Because she was an idiot. “Maybe I couldn’t pass up a chance to have a date with Jamison Hunter.”
“Bull. Try again.” He turned to her in the confines of the truck. The cab seemed smaller and the overcast darkness that surrounded them made the world seem far away. “Why did you go out with me?”
She wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to look at him. She imagined this was what the do-not-touch shuffle looked like when performed in a car. Her insides were shouting at her to hide, to run, to stay away. Her mind was backing all that up. But some other instinct kept her butt firmly planted in the passenger’s seat waiting to see what he would do, what move he would make.
His fingers brushed the side of her cheek. “Gabby, talk to me.”
“I knew you wouldn’t back off. I wanted to show you how ridiculous a date between us would be.”
“Another lie. You better watch it. I hear bad things can happen to your nose if you keep doing that. The question then becomes why can’t you be honest? You wanted to go out with me, I know you did, despite all your reservations. Then we got to the restaurant and you panicked. Hell, you might have been panicking from the moment I picked you up.”
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