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This Time You

Page 2

by T. M. Cromer


  Of course he was. Scotty could be a little shit, like his namesake, Scott Senior.

  “Owww! Mom, he hit me!” There was a slight pause. “Cut it out, jerk!”

  The tension headache tightened the muscles at the base of her skull, and Margie eyed the rope attached to her hammock. It probably wasn’t long or thick enough for her to end it all.

  “Mom! Aaron’s kicking my chair!”

  Dropping her chin to her chest, she sighed. God, she hated her life some days. At least days that ended in Y.

  “Margaret.”

  A wealth of warmth was in that one word, and she instinctively turned her head toward the seductive sound of Gabriel’s deep voice. She didn’t bother to open her eyes. If she did, she’d probably cry. The squeak of the screen door basically gave her no choice, and she lifted her lids. The up-close and personal view of his wide, t-shirt-clad chest was a nice consolation for her crappy morning.

  “Are you all right?”

  She managed a slight shake of her head without speaking.

  “Mom! Scotty still won’t let me play!” Aaron screeched from their living room.

  Margie lifted weary eyes to meet Gabriel’s concerned gaze.

  “Want me to handle it?”

  “What are you going to do? Sell them to the traveling circus?”

  His lips twitched. “If that’s what works best for you.”

  “Mmm. Be my guest.” She gestured toward the door. “But if there’s bloodshed, I’m claiming I know nothing when the police arrive.” Margie peeked behind him, but didn’t see the blonde. “Where’s your friend?”

  “Friend?” He frowned down at her and glanced back toward his house. His expression darkened. “Yeah, you mean my wife.”

  Margie lost her grip on the yogurt cup. Gabriel wasn’t quick enough to avoid the strawberry spatter on his bare shins and flip-flops.

  Wife? Opal never mentioned a wife!

  “I didn’t realize you were married.” She willed the shock from her features and tried to play it cool. It would be nice if her face played along.

  “It was a mistake.” He bent to pick up the plastic cup and ran two fingers up his leg to remove the goo. “One I hope will be rectified soon. We’ve been separated for the better part of two years.”

  “Let me get you a washcloth.” Avoidance was easier than discussing emotions or other people’s problems. There was a dark quality to his voice when he mentioned his marriage, and she wanted no part of that mess.

  Gabriel followed her into the house, and Margie was sure he missed nothing. Not the arguing boys on the gaming chairs in the living room. Not the pile of breakfast dishes on the table. And not the surly pink-haired teen who walked out of her room, looked at her mother, and did an about-face.

  “Yes, this is my life,” Margie muttered as she handed him a damp cloth. In exchange, she took the trash from his hand and dumped it into the sink to rinse later.

  He studied her in silence for a moment before bending to scrub his shin.

  She had no idea what rested behind his inscrutable expression, and she found her inability to decipher his look bothered her. Mainly, because she felt she came off severely lacking.

  “Hey, guys, time to shut that off and go pack a weekend bag. Your dad’s going to be here soon.”

  “Aww, Mom!” was accompanied by the groans of two boys.

  “Now.”

  The gaming remotes were thrown down in a fit of pique with no care as to the replacement cost should they break. Scotty stomped to his room, and Aaron folded his arms across his chest.

  His lip quivered. “I didn’t get a turn.”

  “Come here, bud.” Aaron was her sensitive soul and needed a more careful, loving touch. When he stood in front of her, she leaned down to kiss his smooth forehead. “I promise, the next time the game is fired up, you’ll get to go first. But right now, I need a break from the sound and screaming, okay?”

  Aaron wrapped his skinny arms around her middle in a quick hug. “Can I invite Tuck over to go swimming?”

  Margie glanced first at Gabriel and then at the stove clock. “Your dad will be here to pick you guys up in about a half hour. I think you should get ready to go.”

  “I don’t want to go to Dad’s. Why can’t I stay with you?”

  When his begging blue eyes looked at her as if she were his entire world, she wanted to bundle him up and tell Scott to go screw himself. It wasn’t fair to her kids that they had to be shuttled back and forth this way, but custody guidelines were custody guidelines.

  “Because it’s your dad’s weekend. Go get ready. Be sure to tell your brother and sister I said they have twenty minutes to have a bag packed and their rooms cleaned.”

  Aaron raced off, happy to be in charge.

  “You didn’t need me to sell them to the circus after all.”

  “Let’s keep that idea on the back burner.” She turned to find Gabriel watching her. His warm eyes were locked on her face, and for a moment, she wondered what he could possibly see that he approved of. Her life was a train wreck. Why had he come over today? And how did she prolong his stay? “Coffee?”

  “If it’s no trouble.” Gabriel collected dirty dishes from the table and brought them to the kitchen. “I don’t want to make your morning harder.” He tilted his head and studied her with shrewd, all-seeing eyes. “Besides, it looks like you could use a break.”

  “I’ll get one if Scott doesn’t cancel at the last minute. He has a tendency to forget he sired children.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Sorry. I know I sound bitter.”

  “No, you sound like a woman who has a lot on her plate.”

  He got her. Right away. No explanations or excuses on her part needed. He’d seen and summed up the situation in an instant, and he just got her. She smiled with genuine warmth. “Tell me again why you’re getting divorced? You have to be the most understanding man on the planet.”

  * * *

  Gabriel avoided answering. The truth was, he couldn’t recall why he’d married Tamara. She’d been high maintenance even before their grandiose wedding. Could he say he’d ever loved her? Looking back, probably not. Mostly, he’d been attracted to her confidence and hot body, and he failed to realize they were accompanied by a shallow personality. After enough time had passed, he began to feel the pressure from both her father and her to take their relationship to the next level. Since Jerry Silverman was a senior partner in the law firm where he’d worked at the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. However, her spoiled-little-princess routine with the temper tantrums and continuous pouting when Gabriel refused to cater to her demands sealed the fate on their short-lived marriage. Their separation coincided with his departure from Silverman’s law firm.

  “Tamara thought so. I guess that’s why she assumed it was okay to spend every dime I made and to have affairs when I wasn’t paying her enough attention. She figured I’d be ‘understanding.’”

  Christ! Overshare much?

  Margaret’s jaw dropped open, and her eyes rounded in horrified wonder. “She cheated on you? Is she stupid?” Her gaze swept his body. She shook her head and turned back to brew a cup from the single-serving coffee machine.

  Margaret looked over her shoulder to ask his flavor preference.

  A pale-pink flush rode high on her classic cheekbones, and a sparkle had entered her magnificent eyes. Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat. Although she was vastly different from anyone he dated in the past, she’d haunted him since their first meeting. Every day, he found a reason to linger outside to catch a glimpse of her. If he could capture her eye and receive a shy smile, his day became brighter.

  “Coffee preference?” she asked a second time.

  “Dark roast, please.”

  A strange desire struck him as she turned away to busy herself with the coffee maker. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and bury his face against her long, graceful neck. The urge to touch, to breathe in her unique scent, gr
ipped him.

  The doorbell interrupted his private thoughts—and none too soon. Another minute, and he’d have probably given into his compulsion to touch her.

  “Fucker’s early,” she muttered. “Figures.”

  Gabriel sputtered a laugh. It wasn’t the first time her swearing surprised him, and she had a tendency to catch him off guard in moments like this.

  Color surged into her cheeks. “Crap. Did I say that aloud?”

  “You did,” he confirmed with a grin. And didn’t her colorful language add to her appeal?

  “I’ll let you fix it the way you like it.” She indicated the machine. “Be right back.”

  Since he preferred his coffee black, he picked up the ceramic mug and read the front: I try to act nonchalant, but inside I’m actually chalant AF.

  He chuckled. Margaret Holt possessed a sense of humor he could appreciate. Gabriel’s desire to smile died a sudden death when she returned, followed by the man he assumed was her surly ex-husband. The guy even looked like a prick. Buzz cut hair and what looked to be a perpetual scowl.

  “Who the fuck are you, and why are you in my house?”

  Gabriel’s brows shot up along with his irritation at the asshat’s belligerent tone.

  “My house, Scott, and none of your damned business,” Margaret snapped.

  “It is my business if you’re screwing this guy while my kids are under the same roof.”

  A decision had to be made. Gabriel could either chew this guy a new asshole or leave Margaret to deal with Scott’s aggressive attitude. Since leaving her alone to face Scott’s nastiness didn’t sit well, Gabriel chose to stay.

  He casually sipped his coffee and swallowed. “You’re doing Margaret a disservice when you throw around accusations. You really should get your facts straight before your diarrhea of the mouth gets the best of you.”

  Margaret smirked, and a modicum of the weariness left her eyes. He felt confident he’d made the right choice.

  “Tell the kids I’ll be in the car. If they aren’t ready in five minutes, I’m leaving.”

  Scott stalked toward the front door, and Margaret was quick to chase after him. “Scott!”

  Not above eavesdropping, Gabriel leaned back, away from the counter, to get a better view of the couple in the hallway.

  “You can’t show up twenty minutes early and drop ultimatums. If you’d have called or texted, they’d have been ready.”

  “Then you keep them. I have shit to do.”

  “You’re being unfair—again. I have plans this weekend that don’t include children.”

  “With the asshole in the kitchen?” Scott demanded.

  “Oh, knock it off. We’ve been divorced nine years. I don’t answer to you. But if you don’t want the kids on your scheduled days, perhaps we should go back to court to increase your child support. I’ll have to pay for care on days I want to have a life.”

  Gabriel wanted to applaud Margaret’s fierceness. He imagined he could hear the grinding of Scott’s teeth.

  “Whatever. Tell them to hurry.” Scott beat a hasty retreat.

  Margaret rolled her shoulders and rubbed her neck.

  Gabriel allowed her two deep, cleansing breaths before he joined her in the hall. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, but I’m sick of his behavior. It’s always his way or the highway, and I’m done.”

  “Anything I can do to make it better?” It was the second time the urge had overtaken him. And why he wanted to when he had a busy day ahead was questionable.

  “No, thank you for offering though.” She finally faced him, and the hardness in her eyes softened.

  Now he knew why he’d offered. He found himself volunteering his services for another of those same soft looks. “If you need free legal advice, I’m your man.”

  “You’re a lawyer?”

  “Criminal, but I know a thing or two about family law. Plus, I have a good number of friends who specialize in that field.”

  “Tamara was an idiot to lose you, Gabriel James.”

  He grinned. “I’d like to think so.”

  “Let me round up the kids, then we can enjoy our coffee on the deck.” She bit her lip. “I mean, if you still want to hang around for a while.”

  “I’m happy to.”

  Margaret hurried down the hall and peeked her head into a room, urging the occupants to “speed it up.” She then knocked on the farthest door from him. “Kaley? Your dad’s here, and he’s in a rush.”

  “I’m not going!”

  “It’s his weekend, and yes, you are.”

  The girl whipped open the door and glared at her mother. “I said, I’m not going.”

  “What’s this about, sweetheart?”

  Kaley’s pale eyes focused on Gabriel. “What’s he doing here? Is he the reason I have to go?”

  “He popped in for a neighborly chat. And, no. He has nothing to do with the guidelines your dad and I set for you kids.”

  “Can’t I stay home, Mom?” Kaley’s sullen expression eased into pleading. “Please?”

  “You’re old enough to make the choice if you want to stay or go. But you’ll need to be the one to tell your father.”

  Margaret handled each minor crisis with admirable calm. If Gabriel hadn’t witnessed the exhaustion on her face mere minutes before, he’d have never guessed she found all this emotionally wearing.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Kaley ran past him on the way out the door and gave him a curious look. The hostility from a minute earlier was gone.

  Margaret gave the smallest boy a hug and a kiss on his upturned face, but when she tried to do the same with her older son, he shrugged her off and wiped her kiss from his cheek. She still managed a tight smile. “Have fun, boys.”

  “Love you, Mom,” the younger one called.

  “Love you, too, sweetheart.”

  As soon as the door closed behind them, the silence in the house became deafening. Margaret’s busy household was a sharp contrast to his own calm and quiet home. Her ability to smoothly transition from one situation to another within the chaotic storm of activity made him aware he’d be a complete amateur in the parenting arena.

  Gabriel cleared his throat. “Is it always this… busy around here?”

  “Busier on a school day.” She laughed and crossed to the coffee maker. “Are you still good, or do you want another?”

  “I’m good.”

  They settled into the lounge chairs positioned outside the sliding doors, and sipped their drinks in companionable silence. No awkwardness hung in the air, and the feeling of contentment Gabriel experienced was like nothing he’d known before.

  “You know what I do for a living,” he said. “But I know next to nothing about you.”

  “I’m an artist. Commercial stuff and cartoons mostly, but I sell the occasional landscape or sketch of someone’s beloved pet here or there.”

  He smiled at the image of her, sketchpad in hand, concentration total on her current project. “Would I have seen anything of yours?” A half smile played on her lips, making Gabriel curious as to what was amusing. “Okay, how famous are you?”

  “It’s not like that.” She shrugged and gestured toward his house with her mug. “There were one or two hanging up when Opal was alive. She also commissioned me to paint a few landscapes for her nephews.” A smile teased the corners of her mouth. “Since I’m assuming you and your brothers were her only relatives, one of you must’ve received my work as a present.”

  He sat up straighter. “Athena’s temple! She gifted me that one for my office about two years ago. I couldn’t make out the signature. One of yours?”

  “Yep.”

  “I love that painting.”

  “You don’t have to say that.”

  “I’m completely serious. It speaks to me.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Love it,” he corrected, leaning back. The mug was inches from his mouth when he remembered the paintings in his brother’s r
estaurant. “The Italian landscapes Opal gave to Grey—you did those, too, didn’t you?”

  “Guilty.”

  “They inspired me to take a trip last year.”

  It was her turn to stare at him in surprise. A horrendous crash from inside the house aborted her response. She bolted, Gabriel right on her heels. They found Kaley, lying on the floor in a pool of blood.

  Chapter 3

  Gabriel wasn’t entirely certain how he found himself sitting in a hospital room with his new neighbor, other than the fact she’d become unglued the second she saw her daughter on the floor—and rightfully so. The sight of the blood flowing from the girl’s head had left him a bit queasy.

  Because Margaret had rushed to help Kaley, he’d been the one to call for an ambulance. The first responders arrived with the usual fanfare of lights and sirens, and Gabriel had needed to physically restrain Margaret to keep her away from her child long enough for them to treat the girl. Although the paramedics were able to stop the bleeding on-site and their patient had regained consciousness, they recommended a trip to the ER to make sure nothing more serious was going on in the girl’s brain.

  Gabriel shifted in the hard plastic chair and stretched.

  A radiology technician had come and whisked Kaley away for a CT scan about a half hour ago, and now here Gabriel sat with Margaret, waiting for news. She retreated into her own little bubble, chewing her lip and sending out texts to God only knew who. Scott perhaps? Gabriel couldn’t really see her ex-husband caring all that much. The guy didn’t seem the hands-on, fatherly type.

  As for Gabriel, one glimpse of her haunted sapphire eyes, and he’d been a goner. The need to ease her suffering wouldn’t be denied. The feeling had never happened before, or if it had, he bailed. But not this time.

  To gain her attention, he touched her knee.

  She jumped and released a little “eep!”

  He pressed his lips together to bite back his laughter. In her flustered state, Margaret was cute as hell and damned near irresistible.

  “Are you going to be okay, Margaret?”

  “You don’t have to wait with me. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time. I’ll be okay.”

 

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