by T. M. Cromer
“Are you even listening to me, Gabe?”
He whipped his head around. “Sorry, man. I…”
There was no excuse. Well, no good one other than he’d been bewitched by a single mother of three in less time than it took for her to bat an eyelash in his direction.
“I’d never have pegged you for the ready-made-family type.”
Irritation flared. “I’m not.”
“Hmm, could have fooled me.”
“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have a concert to perform or something?”
Gordie threw back his head and laughed. “Typical Gabriel. Don’t want to talk about it? Deflect.”
“Okay, you want to open up and share our feelings like a couple of girls? Here goes. From the second I saw her, I’ve felt like I was in over my head. It’s as if I already knew her. Knew how she’s going to taste, how she’s going to feel. When I tease her, she responds exactly as I envision in my mind. The carefully controlled mother is gone and, in her place, is a woman with a wicked sense of humor and a zest for life. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”
“Sheesh, that’s a lot to dump on a guy.”
“Screw you.”
“Seriously, you got all that from one day with her?”
Gabriel returned his attention to the bedroom window. A shadow passed in front of the curtains, and his heart gave an extra-hard thump. “Yes.”
“Well, say goodbye to the bachelor life.”
Gabriel nearly dropped his beer. “Whoa! Who said anything about marriage? I’m still dealing with my last mistake.”
“You don’t make time with a single mom unless you plan to get serious. It’s not cool, man.”
“Shut up. Who asked you anyway?”
“Does this mean we’re not best girlfriends anymore?”
“Why couldn’t I have been an only child?”
“On that note, I’m going in to crash in your guest room. Later, loser.”
For a long time after Gordie left, Gabriel watched Margaret’s bedroom window. His brother wasn’t wrong. He should keep a safe distance if he didn’t plan to get serious.
He finished off his beer, set the bottle on the railing, and descended the steps. Bending down, he scooped up a few lighter pebbles from the landscape bed next to him. A light toss assured him the weight wouldn’t break a window.
When he was only a few feet away from Margaret’s house, Gabriel threw one stone and held his breath as the sound echoed from the glass. Damn, who knew it would be so loud?
Ten seconds later, he chucked another.
Still nothing.
With a frown, he moved closer and peeked around the side of the house. He supposed it was possible she had moved into the bathroom or living room. This time he tossed the pebble at the back window.
The blinds were raised, and Margie peered into the night. She cracked the window a few inches and put her mouth next to the screen. “Who’s there?”
He hadn’t taken into account that the darkened back yard would make it difficult for her to see out. “It’s Gabriel.”
The window was shoved higher, and she rested her crossed arms on the sill. “Come closer, I can only see your outline.”
He complied and got an eyeful of cleavage as she bent to talk to him. And good Lord, what cleavage she had! Thank God for V-neck t-shirts.
“What are you doing?”
“I came to break you out.”
“Break me out?” She snorted.
“It occurred to me you might be lonely. I figured with your kids asleep and your brother crashing on your couch, now was the perfect time for you to sneak out.”
“Hmm, so the very thing I lectured my daughter about is the thing you want me to do with you?”
“Precisely.”
Her genuine laughter hit him low in the gut. “Okay. Meet me at the window around the corner to your left in exactly one minute. I have to find some shoes.”
“It’s Florida. You don’t need shoes.”
“There could be anything in that grass. Fire ants, snakes, a spider or two.”
“Margaret, you’re as fierce as they come. Are you telling me you’re afraid of a few bugs?”
“Yes.”
“Fair enough. But come on, I’ll carry you.”
“You can’t carry me. You’ll break your damned back.”
“Seriously, woman, you’re wasting valuable time.”
“I don’t know if I should, now that I think about it. My mother always told me never to talk to strange men.”
“You think I’m strange?” Her stalling amused him.
“No. I think you’re perfect,” she replied with a soft, girly sigh.
Gabriel grinned at her choked sound. Apparently, the lovely Margaret hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He lowered his voice in invitation. “Come out and play with me, Margaret.”
“Fine. Help me pop the screen.”
When she pulled the tabs up, he wedged his fingers under the frame and helped dislodge it. He caught her in his arms as she lunged out the opening.
“You’re good at this. How many damsels have you freed from their towers?” she asked, admiration in her voice.
“Enough. Now shut the window to keep mosquitoes out.”
He held her as she twisted around to comply. The light musky scent of vanilla teased his nostrils, and he lowered his head to rub his nose along her throat. He chuckled when she let out a startled “meep.”
“Fuck, you smell good, Margaret.” He couldn’t wait. He had to sample her lips. As he lowered his head, the outside floodlights bathed them in its bright glow.
“Oh, shit. Run!”
“Run?” He stood dumbly as she jumped from his arms and took off in the direction of his house.
“Run,” she called over her shoulder, laughing at his bewilderment.
The sliding door behind him cracked open, and Gabriel wasted no time making tracks. He flew past Margaret and was helpless to resist delivering a sharp smack to her shapely ass encased in curve-hugging shorts. Her muffled yelp had him laughing all the way to his front porch.
James Holt crossed his arms and watched as his sister ran into the night with Gabriel. When Opal Sutherland’s translucent form materialized at his side, he was careful to keep his voice low so the echo wouldn’t carry across the distance. “I like him, and I think he’ll be good for Margie.”
“They do make the perfect couple, don’t they? As if they were meant for each other.” She sighed, but there was a sadness to the sound.
He shot her a look from the corner of his eye. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Opal?”
“There’s probably a lot of things I refuse to tell you, young man, but if I don’t, it’s because they need to play out as intended.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Unfortunately, for your sister, it is.”
The gloominess radiating off of Opal bothered him. When it came to his family, he’d do whatever was necessary to protect them. His temper ignited, but he had the presence of mind to keep his voice low and controlled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Because your nephew or not, if he hurts her, I will break him in half.”
She patted his forearm, and her touch was a simple caress of wind. “Calm down, dear boy. Gabriel is well on his way to falling in love with her. And if there’s one thing about my dear nephew you should know, it’s that he protects his own, as you do. No, I’m afraid your sister is facing another threat. One only time, patience, and love can resolve.”
“How cryptic,” James snapped. “You know what I hate most about the spirits in the afterlife? Not a damned one of you can be straightforward.” He pivoted to go back inside. “Do me a favor, wake me when she’s ready to come back. I feel like holding her feet to the coals for sneaking out.”
“Wine?” Gabriel asked.
“I’m cool with beer if you have it. And maybe a blanket. I didn’t realize it would be so damp out tonight.”
“Would yo
u rather hang out in my bedroom?”
“Is that the line all the cool kids are using these days?” she asked with a soft laugh.
“Think it’ll work?”
“Probably not, but you can keep trying. It’s flattering.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Margie wandered the length of the porch. It wasn’t very long—probably no more than twelve feet—but it was wide enough to allow for the two Adirondack chairs with their pullout footstools and a table between. They were left over from when Opal was alive. The lime-green color was beachy and bright, making her happy just to look at them. Gabriel either liked them or hadn’t gotten around to changing the decor out yet. Maybe she’d tell him she’d like to buy the set if he decided to replace them. They reminded her of magical mornings when she and Opal would share a cup of coffee and discuss the meaning of life.
A wave of moodiness washed over her, and Margie raised her eyes skyward. If Opal could see down upon them, she wondered what the woman would have to say about this little development between Gabriel and her.
The breeze kicked up and caressed her cheeks before calming again. The sensation was reminiscent of the affectionate way Opal would cup her face as she imparted her wisdom.
An icy sensation traced across Margie’s skin. She believed in spirits. How could she not? The past-life recollection she’d been gifted with told her the soul didn’t die. It moved to another time or dimension. She’d been friends with Opal in a previous life as well. They’d met the day, a little more than a hundred years ago, when Margie, as Lucy, had gone to speak to Sebastian’s mother.
The soft pad of Gabriel’s soles on the concrete distracted her from her memories. His arm came around in front of her to present the beer minus the cap. With a flourish, he produced a light blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Warm enough?”
“Yes. Perfect.”
“Come sit with me.”
He tugged her over to the chairs and held her beer while she sat down. Once she was in place, he pulled out the footrest for her to kick up her heels. Margie admired how fluidly he moved for a man his size as he settled in the other chair. He exhibited a casual grace with every movement he made.
Together, they stared out over the darkened street in companionable silence. He had Opal’s easy way about him, and simply being in his calming presence chased away the constant loneliness Margie couldn’t otherwise shake.
Unable not to feast on his beautiful form with her hungry eyes, she shifted sideways and drew up her legs as she studied him.
He’d changed into an old college hoodie but was still sporting the same jeans as earlier. When she trailed her gaze back to his face, he was staring, a small smirk in place.
“Like what you see?” The warm-whiskey quality to his voice sent a shot of desire coursing through her. The man oozed sex appeal. Surely he had to know it?
“What’s not to like?”
He grinned and took a pull of his beer.
She followed suit, maintaining eye contact with his twinkling gray peepers. “Was this what you had in mind when you threw rocks at my window?”
“Pebbles. And I had nothing in mind except to see you again.”
She caught her breath at the perfection of his response. It was a rare day when someone wasn’t demanding something from her for their own gain. She should’ve known Gabriel would come up with the right words to make her feel wanted and like a woman instead of a broodmare or maid to her children.
“I don’t know if I thanked you for all you did for us today. But I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
A flash of irritation crossed his face. “I don’t want your gratitude, Margaret. I didn’t step in today for personal gain.”
“I know that, Gabriel. But what you did… it was more than anyone’s done for me in a long while. Possibly ever.”
He nodded. “So are you in a serious relationship with anyone?” The change of subject was a typical Sebastian/Gabriel move.
“Would I be sitting here with you if I was?”
“Do you realize you have a tendency to answer a question with a question?”
She gave a short laugh. “Sorry. All these years of raising kids has conditioned me to try to encourage independent thinking.”
“Ah. Does it work?”
“Not really. But I’m a Holt, and with the name comes a hard head. I’ll keep trying until I draw my last breath.”
He chuckled and raised the bottle to his lips.
“No.”
Her comment had him pause in taking a drink. “No?”
“No, I am not in a serious relationship.”
A smile played about his mouth. “Good to know.”
“And you, is there anyone other than Tamara?”
“Nope, and my soon-to-be-ex is a non-issue.”
“Good to know,” she said teasingly and mimicked his action by taking a sip of beer.
“This is going to sound weird, but have we met before?”
She choked on her drink. “Why do you ask?”
A furrow developed between his dark brows. “It’s more of a feeling than anything else. This seems so familiar to me, but I can’t place where we might have met or why I would’ve forgotten.”
Most people didn’t remember their past lives, but Margie would be damned if she’d say that out loud. Her own family wasn’t even aware of her gift. Sharing it with an outsider would likely see her ostracized or ridiculed. “We haven’t met. It’s one of those things. Similar to déjà vu.”
“Hmm. Must be. On a different subject, how’s Kaley tonight?”
“Still sporting a headache.” Margie toyed with the label on her bottle. “It’s extremely upsetting to think someone was in my house and hurt my child while I sat right outside the open door. I can’t get rid of this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.”
Gabriel shifted to face her. “I can see where it would be, but the attack on Kaley was in no way your fault.”
“That’s not the conclusion we came to earlier about why someone was in my house.”
“Again, being the target of another person is not your fault. You need to get that through your head, Margaret. There are things in this world you can’t control.”
She looked up sharply. “Why would you say that? About control?”
He’d known her the sum total of a day. Was she as bad as Scott had previously claimed?
“Do I seem controlling to you?” Inside, her heart hammered.
His expression softened, and a sweet smile graced his lips. “No. Not in the way you think I mean. But I noticed on more than one occasion today, you washed your hands when you were upset. If you add in the excessively organized cabinets, I suspect you feel there are a lot of situations out of your control.”
Unable to meet his gaze, Margie took another sip of her beer, but for some inexplicable reason, she found it difficult to swallow.
“It wasn’t a criticism, Margaret. I would never do that.”
Her feelings of inadequacy worsened. But because he was watching her expectantly, she said, “I know.” Mood ruined, she rose to her feet, folded the blanket, and shoved in the footrest in preparation to leave. “Thanks for the drink.”
“Don’t go.”
“I have to. Tomorrow comes early, and the kids will want breakfast.”
“Will you have dinner with me one night soon?”
How did any woman deny him? But tell him no, she must. They were worlds apart this time around. Earlier, she’d taken the time to google him and found out he was a high-end criminal attorney with no children and an easy-going, partying lifestyle. She, on the other hand, was a mother of three who’d never had a thought as to a life outside of caring for her children. There was a distinct possibility that she didn’t even own a nice dress anymore.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Gabriel.”
“Why? The attraction is mutual. Neither of us is in a relationship. What’s stopping you from saying yes?”
“I
have to defend my no?”
“If that’s how you truly feel, you don’t.” He stood and held out a hand. “Come on, I’ll see you home.”
“I live fifty feet away. I think I’m safe.”
“It’s not a request. Someone broke into your home and attacked your daughter this morning. If you think I’m not escorting you home, you’re cracked in the head.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” Margie muttered.
They strolled back in silence. Regret for turning him down plagued her. He’d been wonderful today—her dream man in every way. Had she met him nine years ago, she’d be jumping for joy at the thought of going on a date with him. However, at this point in her life, when she was pushing forty and couldn’t spare an hour for a damned pedicure, why would she dream of complicating her life with one more person who needed her attention? She was stretched too thin as it was.
“I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.”
With a hand on her arm, he halted her. “I already said I don’t want your damned gratitude. There wasn’t one thing I did today that I expected anything in return. I want to take you out because you intrigue me and I find you attractive.” His hot-eyed gaze dropped to her lips. “And I’ve wanted to kiss that lush, pouty mouth of yours since I saw you in your hammock.”
Well, when he put it like that!
Her resistance dissolved, and she reached for him as he reached for her. When their lips touched, the explosion of need made her gasp. His tongue savaged her mouth and demanded a reciprocal response. Her moan echoed in the still night.
Holy hell, the man could kiss.
Her world, as she’d previously known it, was shattered. Never would she be able to kiss another man without comparing it to this moment, to Gabriel’s possession.
He tangled his fingers in her wild hair, and he gently tugged her head back, only allowing enough space for the both of them to take a few deep inhales. The puffs of his rapid breath brought with them the teasing scent of beer, and Margie smiled at the one moment of realness in what must be a fantasy her mind conjured up.
