This Time You

by T. M. Cromer

  Her brave façade didn’t fool him. She didn’t have the art of pretense down, and her every thought showed on her face.

  “I have nowhere to be. I’m happy to wait with you.” Actually, he had a shit-ton to do, both at work and home, but oddly, he preferred to remain here with her.

  She opened her mouth and snapped it shut again. Perhaps she’d intended to argue but came to the conclusion she didn’t really want to be alone. He was okay with that, too.

  “She’s going to be fine.” Gabriel curled his fingers around her delicate wrist and gave a light, reassuring squeeze. He doubted it would help, because until Margaret saw with her own eyes that her daughter was going to be okay, she wouldn’t completely believe anything he said or did.

  “So I know you are Opal’s nephew, but not much more.”

  He gave her props for attempting conversation when her mind was elsewhere. “Opal was my aunt on my mother’s side. She actually left me the house. I’ll never understand why she didn’t will it to my brother Greyson since he was her favorite. For whatever reason, she wanted me to have it, and because I fancied an actual house, I sold Grey my condo at the beach.”

  She sucked in her lower lip, and Gabriel’s attention was drawn to the fullness of her mouth. A mouth he desperately wanted to taste. In the short time he’d known her, he learned the biting of her lip was Margaret’s nervous tell. She would be shit at cards. Maybe down the road, he should engage her in a game of strip poker. He was sure to win. With a slight shake of his head, he pushed away all thoughts of a naked Margaret Holt. A hospital emergency room wasn’t the appropriate place to fantasize about the woman he’d so recently met—especially when her child was hurt.

  “So that explains it.”

  “Pardon?” he asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “You said, ‘So that explains it.’ Explains what?”

  “I did?”

  “Yes. You did.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Explains what?”

  “I couldn’t say.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  Gabriel was beginning to feel this was a game of “Who’s on First.” Because he was a sucker and his aunt was adept at emotional blackmail, he had allowed himself to be conned into repeatedly watching Abbott and Costello reruns. Now, he practically knew it by heart.

  As he sat beside Margaret, trying to decide if following this line of discussion was worth the mental strain, a raucous group charged down the hospital corridor. In the lead was a petite blonde woman with a distinct look of determination stamped firmly on her features. Other than the hair color, she bore a striking resemblance to Margaret.

  “Your family, I presume?”

  * * *

  Margie whipped her head around. “Yep, they belong to me.”

  They’d spotted her and their questions flew fast and furious.

  “Margie! Thank God! How is she?”

  “What happened?”

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Any news yet?”

  She jumped up to field their questions—at least that’s the excuse she told herself. The reality? She needed a break from her disturbing companion.

  Gabriel’s presence overwhelmed her, and every time she looked at him in all his gorgeousness, her brain cells malfunctioned. The result made her feel dumber than a rock. If she stared long enough, she feared she’d go blind, much like staring at the sun. All his yummy sexiness short-circuited her wiring. Their last little exchange could be used as a prime example.

  When she learned he was the nephew to whom Opal had left the house, Margie understood exactly why Gabriel inherited. The elderly woman had been trying to get him to come for a visit in the months preceding her death, but Gabriel had always been too busy.

  At the time, Margie couldn’t understand why Opal continually sang the praises of her nephew when he couldn’t be bothered to give her the time of day. But she went on ad nauseam about how wonderful the oldest “boy” was and how perfect he’d be for Margie. Without a doubt, that little she-devil was trying to set them up from beyond the grave.

  At this stage in Margie’s life, pushing forty with three children, a small stomach pouch, and a network of stretch marks to show for it, she would be too embarrassed to do the bump and grind with Gabriel.

  Ugh! Why did she have to go there? It wasn’t like he’d expressed interest.

  Or had he?

  She snuck a peek at him.

  His intent silver gaze followed her as he cocked his head, expression akin to a hawk scoping out its prey. The heat of embarrassment swept from her toes to her hairline. Although he didn’t outright smile, his eyes crinkled as if he suppressed one. Margie knew his expressions well. She had seen that particular look on his face at least a hundred times before. Not much changed lifetime to lifetime. He was amused by her and her antics. If she concentrated enough, she could hear the long-ago echo of Sebastian’s full-bodied laugh.

  With considerable willpower, she ripped her gaze from his and returned her attention to her family. Heat flooded her face as she belatedly registered her mother’s softly spoken question. “What happened, sweetheart? How did Kaley get hurt?”

  Kaley!

  For a brief moment, Gabriel had distracted her from her daughter. Stricken, Margie glanced up to see her sister’s boyfriend observing her. Michael brushed past the others to gather her close into a tight hug, offering up a kiss on her forehead.

  “Sammy’s on her way. She was in Port Orange and got stuck in traffic.” His low Southern drawl soothed her. He had a special way about him. An ability to recognize someone’s hurt, and with quiet consideration, he provided a comfort they weren’t aware they needed. He continued to keep her tucked against his side as he rubbed her back. “Any news yet?”

  “No,” she said tearfully. “She’s still in radiology. You didn’t have to come. I would have texted you when I found out anything.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You know I have to be here for my best girl.”

  The air around her altered and became charged. Only one person ever had the power to make her feel such a sensation, and Margie watched Gabriel as he approached their group. She moved closer to Michael to allow room in their small circle.

  A dark frown lent a menacing quality to Gabriel’s face. Michael must’ve recognized Gabriel’s agitation, too, because he squeezed her tighter.

  Gabriel’s frown deepened as he pointedly stared at the arm draped over her shoulder. His possessive reaction was enough to make a normal woman giddy, and she bit her lip to hold back a laugh. Silly she should feel euphoria when he likely viewed her as little more than a stranger, but deep down, she knew this man.

  When Michael had said “best girl,” he was referring to Kaley. The man absolutely adored her daughter. He loved to tease about cloning Kaley so he and Sammy could have a child exactly like her. However, Gabriel didn’t know that.

  She shrugged off Michael’s arm and placed her hand over Gabriel’s. As she was about to introduce him to her family, she heard her sister speak to someone in the hallway, and Margie rushed out to greet her.

  “Ohmygod, Margie! I’m sorry I couldn’t get here any faster. How’s Kaley? Michael said she was hurt. What the hell happened, and where were you?”

  And like that, Margie felt judged. Why was it Sammy had the ability to make her feel like a shit parent at every turn? “She’s in imaging. You really shouldn’t have come, because you’re not needed.”

  Sammy jerked as if she’d been slapped, and her eyes narrowed as she stared at Margie. Her shock and hurt stamped plainly on her features.

  “Let’s go outside.” Michael stepped in and ushered her away. Likely preventing the eruption of World War III with his quick thinking.

  Sammy’s tearful words floated down the corridor. “Why does she have to be such a bitch all the time?”

  Margie closed her eyes. Once again, the blame was hers. She couldn’t recall a time when she wasn’t
at odds with Sammy, but as the older sister, she was expected to be the one to suck it up. The one to bite her tongue and cater to her little sister’s every whim. As the baby of the family, Sammy had been allowed to run wild, and it still rankled after all this time.

  A hand came down on her shoulder, and she reached for it like a lifeline.

  Gabriel.

  Had he witnessed her ugliness? She snorted. Likely the whole hospital did. She turned to see her parents and brother crowded in the doorway, staring as if she’d lost her damned mind. Perhaps she had.

  Gabriel crowded closer as if to protect her from her family’s censure, and the sweetness of the gesture warmed her cold insides. He’d retained the same hero quality throughout the centuries.

  “Margaret!” Whenever her mother scolded using Margie’s full first name, the reprimand was going to be harsh. Did it matter that she was a grown-ass woman? Apparently not.

  The hand on her shoulder tightened.

  Anything Margie would’ve said was aborted as Kaley was wheeled down the hallway. She was holding her head as if she was in excruciating pain, and Margie’s heart lurched to see Kaley hurting.

  Margie squeezed Gabriel’s hand tighter. It was telling of her life that she found this man, with whom she’d only spent a sum total of three hours, a hundred times more supportive and understanding than her own family.

  After the tech assured her the doctor would view the scans with all due haste, Margie perched on the edge of Kaley’s bed. “Can I get you anything, sweetheart?”

  “Nah, I’m good. Mom? Did you see the guy who hit me?” Kaley toyed with her hospital wristband, and real fear was reflected in her solemn gaze.

  Unease stirred in Margie’s belly. If Kaley was hallucinating, perhaps the scans weren’t as clean as the radiologist assumed. Either that, or this was another of her daughter’s bids for attention. “Honey, what are you talking about? There was no one else in the house. Only you.”

  “No!” Kaley winced and pressed her palm to her bandage. “I saw him. He came at me when I walked into the kitchen. Mom, I’m not making this up. I swear.”

  Margie’s gaze snapped to Gabriel’s to see what he made of Kaley’s baffling comment. His dark scowl was impossible to decipher, so she transferred her attention back to her daughter.

  Listen to her. The thready voice flitted through Margie’s mind and brought with it raised gooseflesh. Long ago, she’d learned to heed the warnings. While not psychic like Sammy, Margie had a healthy respect for her inner voice.

  “All right. Can you describe him?”

  “He didn’t seem very tall. Definitely shorter than Uncle Jamie and Grandpa. But his face was covered. He might’ve had light hair. I’m sorry, Mom. I…” Kaley swiped a forearm across her face to dry the start of her tears. “He shoved me. I can’t remember anything after hitting my head.”

  One question after another rolled through Margie’s mind. She feared Kaley wasn’t telling the truth, but putting her on the spot in front of everyone wouldn’t gain Margie the answers she sought. Instead, she hugged Kaley, taking great care not to jar her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  Margie hesitated. She hated lying to her children if she could help it, but she doubted the truth was worth the drama. Biting the bullet, she said, “I don’t see how it was possible for anyone to be in the house when we were right outside, Kaley. I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but perhaps you imagined it. I think we would’ve heard something with the slider open.”

  Kaley reared back and shoved her away. “You never believe me! I don’t know why I even try.” She grabbed her head again. “Go away.”

  “Kaley.” Margie chose her words with care. “Gabriel and I came running as soon as we heard the crash. No one else was there. Can you entertain the possibility, for a moment, that you dreamed someone up when you were unconscious?”

  “Whatever.” Kaley’s look of loathing singed her.

  With everyone witnessing the exchange, Margie wanted to curl in on herself. She’d never done anything to deserve fierce hatred from her child, and she continually felt like a failure because she was unable to bridge the gap. If she zigged left, Kaley did the opposite and zagged right.

  She rose and crossed to the small sink in the connecting bathroom. After she turned on the tap, she soaped, allowing the water and the cool glide of the hand soap to soothe her. As she lathered between each individual finger one by one, she ran through the scene in her mind.

  Was it possible someone had been in the house? No sounds or movement to indicate otherwise, but Kaley’s insistence couldn’t be ignored. Yes, she was a rebellious teen with a hair-trigger temper. Yes, she snuck out on occasion. But she’d never been one to make up stories, although there was always a first time.

  Margie dried her hands and returned to the room as her mother wiped the last of Kaley’s tears away. Her mom had an easy way about her, and everyone gravitated to her.

  Once again, feelings of being an abject failure rose up and nearly suffocated Margie. She could admit to a smidgen of jealousy. Kaley adored everyone except her, and every time Margie spoke, she sent her daughter into a rant about the unfairness of being her child.

  The arrival of the doctor was a welcome break from her own mind.

  He explained Kaley’s scans were clean, but she would most likely suffer from the effects of a concussion for a few days. He detailed her care and suggested a date to remove the stitches.

  When the doctor met her gaze and tilted his head toward the hallway, Margie’s gut somersaulted. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of my family. I’ll only have to relay it to them anyway.” God knew they were an interfering bunch.

  “Fair enough. I have concerns. I received two very different stories as to how Kaley’s injury happened. Your daughter told me she was shoved, and yet on the admission form, you stated she slipped.” The doctor paused, and his eyes met Margie’s squarely. “I’d like to hear a more detailed explanation of the events that led to her injury. I’m sorry, but returning a child to a home where her safety is in question isn’t an option.”

  Stunned speechless, Margie could only stare at the doctor.

  “My mom would never hit me. Ever.” Kaley voice was hard and left no one in doubt as to the truth of her words. To say she surprised Margie by speaking up was an understatement. A grateful warmth spread throughout her chest, and she wanted to wrap Kaley in a fierce hug.

  Once again, Margie took comfort in Gabriel’s presence as he stepped closer and brushed her fingers with his. “Margaret and I were sitting outside when Kaley was injured. I promise you, nothing untoward happened on anyone’s part.”

  She met his stormy gray eyes and smiled softly to relay her thanks.

  Gabriel nodded, and his steely gaze softened. “I need to make a phone call. Are you going to be okay if I step out for a few minutes?”

  “Of course. If you need to get going, my dad or brother can drive us home.”

  He shot her an irritated glance, shook his head, and strode from the room. Margie was left to interpret his look, but after being single for the better part of a decade, she was likely to be way off base.

  Chapter 4

  Gabriel’s irritation built with every step toward the hospital doors. Why exactly Margaret’s easy dismissal annoyed him, he couldn’t say. Honestly, he should be grateful to return home and get on with the million and one things he needed to do to put his stamp on the new place.

  Shrugging off his pique, he placed a call to his friend Dr. Stephen Montgomery. A stellar psychiatrist, Stephen could offer a lot of insight, and Gabriel wanted his professional opinion on the situation.

  Kaley’s plea for Margaret to believe her had been heartfelt. Genuine. It made him uneasy to think they might have missed a stranger in the house. Maybe Stephen could provide insight on why Kaley would have made something like that up.

  If she did make it up.

  When Gabriel’s
call went straight to voicemail, he disconnected and shot off a text instead. He wouldn’t have long to wait. His next call was to Grey. Gabriel gave him a rundown of the situation and asked, “Can you double-check the locks on Margaret’s doors and windows?”

  “You think someone was bold enough to break in while you were right there on the deck?”

  “I don’t know. It’s more of a feeling I have than anything else. Her ex had just left with the boys, so the front door was most likely unlocked.”

  “I’ll see what I can find.”

  “Thanks, Grey. Also, can you have your staff whip up an order for pizza? Four large, any variety, should do.”

  Gabriel strode back to Kaley’s room. Resting his shoulder against the doorframe, he watched the Holts. Based on their interactions, he could tell they were a close-knit group. What bothered him the most was the way Kaley treated her mother. The girl had a lot of pent-up hostility. He knew it wasn’t unusual for kids to be disrespectful, but he had no way of knowing if this degree of anger was the norm. What he had come to realize was that raising kids wasn’t for sissies. For the brief minute when Margaret had held Kaley, Gabriel thought he imagined the tension between the two. He hadn’t. It became more obvious after Kaley tossed accusations at Margaret. For both their sakes, Gabriel intended to get to the bottom of the alleged intruder.

  His gaze was drawn to Margaret.

  The younger guy, who he assumed was her brother due to the similarity in coloring, said something to make her laugh. Gabriel had thought her striking before, but when she flashed the full wattage of her smile and amusement lit her tired eyes, she glowed. For a moment, she was carefree and beautiful. In the course of a week, she’d become the flame to his moth, and he wanted to bask in her glow.

  Previous to meeting Margaret, he would’ve freely admitted his taste ran to model-thin, professional, and blonde. But then Margaret turned her sapphire gaze his way. She was a hot mess. Her spandex yoga pants and baggy t-shirt hid what he suspected was a mouth-watering figure, and the hair escaping her topknot had an unfortunate tendency to kink. Yet somehow, this one woman made others pale in comparison. It confused him. Gabriel didn’t like the sensation of being off-balance. Yet, the tentative smile she sent him required an answering grin.