by Ashlyn Chase
Frustrated, Gabe set his beer on the table a little too hard. “It’s not that.”
After a long hesitation, Jayce tipped his head. “Well, are you going to tell me what it is or not?”
Gabe took a deep breath, then spit it out. “I know I told Parker I’d look after her, but I’ve been doing a piss-poor job of it.”
“What do you mean by doing a piss-poor job of looking after her?”
Gabe glanced around the bar. No one was paying any attention to them. He just hoped his brother wouldn’t give him a stern lecture and embarrass the shit out of him. “This is just between us, right?”
Jayce nodded.
“Okay. No. I don’t want to get overinvolved, but I think I made a mistake.”
“Go on,” Jayce said as he swirled his beer.
Gabe covered his eyes and mumbled through his hands, “I slept with her.” He removed his hands to take in Jayce’s reaction. Or maybe he should say his nonreaction. His facial expression hadn’t changed. He was just staring at his beer.
“Well?”
Jayce placed his beer on the table and smiled. “And I thought you had no game.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not a game, Jayce. She’s vulnerable, and I was supposed to be looking out for her. Instead, I slept with her. By the way, does that make me her boyfriend?”
Jayce laughed. “Man, you are clueless.”
“Give me a break. I know you slept with women before Kristine, and they didn’t all become steady girlfriends.”
Jayce stared at him for a few seconds. “We’re different people, Gabe. I let them know up front I wasn’t looking for anything serious, then left them laughing and remembering our time together fondly. I don’t think you can do that.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so either. And what did you tell women who wanted to see you again?”
Jayce shrugged. “I would say I wasn’t ready to settle down with just one woman. Then I’d compare them to one beautiful flower in a bouquet and say I couldn’t pick my favorite.”
Gabe mimed sticking his finger down his throat. “Yeah, that’s not my style. How about making up some excuse to disappear, like joining the French Foreign Legion?”
Jayce burst out laughing. “Is that what you came up with? I don’t think that would work for you…unless you do plan to join up.”
“I’d rather not.”
Jayce reached over and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’m glad to hear that. I’d miss you.” When he sat back, he added, “Frankly, you could do a lot worse than Misty Carlisle.”
“You’re right, but she could do a lot better than me.”
Jayce straightened his spine and frowned at Gabe. “What the hell makes you say that?”
“Have you forgotten what we are? I wouldn’t know how to tell her. You, Ryan, and Miguel all lucked out. You and Ryan wound up with women who had their own paranormal identities, and Miguel…he was really lucky to have found Sandra in high school. By the time they were ready to get married, she knew him well enough to know he would never hurt her or anyone else, no matter what shape he took.”
“And Misty has known you all her life. I understand your stumbling block, but it’s clear to anyone who has eyes that she adores you.”
Gabe hung his head. “Yeah. I’m screwed.”
Jayce laughed, then quickly schooled his features when Gabe glared at him. “All right, Bro. We’ll go for a very cold boat ride, and you can fly until you put some of the pieces together. I could do it for you, but it wouldn’t mean much. You have to figure this out for yourself.”
“Like Dorothy having to go all the way to Oz to figure out she’d rather be home in Kansas?”
Jayce smirked. “Something like that.”
“If only it were that easy. Unfortunately, there’s more.”
“I figured as much. What is it?”
“She might have MS.”
“Jesus. That’s horrible—for her. Is that what’s making you want to run?”
“Hell no. I’m not that much of an asshole. If anything, it would prevent me from running when I really want to.”
“So, what makes you think she has MS?”
“She noticed some weird symptoms. She even fell in my bathroom when she went to pick up something she dropped. After that, we looked at some YouTube videos. It sure sounds like MS.”
“Whoa. Diagnosis by internet?”
“No, of course not. She saw a doctor. I guess they’re still ruling out other things, but it sounds like the doc suspects MS. The last thing I want to do is add to her burden right now.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Does there need to be?”
“Nope. I’d say that’s plenty to deal with.”
Two hours later, Gabe was gliding on the wind. Yes, it was cold, but his feathers covered every bit of skin, so he barely felt it. His mind was so preoccupied, he wouldn’t have thought about the weather anyway.
What must Misty feel like? He hadn’t even tried to put himself in her shoes. Her slippery, klutzy shoes. He knew she wasn’t a klutz, though. He remembered her twirling down the sidewalk. He and Parker were asked to watch her while her mother was entertaining friends. She was light on her feet and nearly acrobatic. She could cartwheel down an entire city block without appearing dizzy at the end.
In feathered form, Gabe couldn’t sigh, but he was doing a lot of that in his mind. So, what does Misty feel like, knowing she might never dance again? Shit. She would be devastated if the doctors told her that.
And what about physical pain? She never complained about it—never showed it—except for the time she fell in his bathroom. She’d winced. Could she have been keeping that to herself?
He pictured her on the floor, naked, massaging her left leg. Then he pictured her in his bed, the sheet slipping down to reveal…
Focus, Gabe!
It didn’t matter how many times he tried to forget what they’d shared on the night of her birthday. The feel of her soft skin under his fingers, her rounded breasts and bottom, her responsiveness to his every touch…it was all burned into his brain.
Yup. If he couldn’t find a way to put that behind them, he was well and truly screwed. At least he had his job to keep him occupied for the next few days.
Gabe landed on the deck of Jayce’s boat and shifted back to his human form. He shivered the minute the freezing wind hit his skin and couldn’t get his clothes on fast enough. Jayce came up from below with a blanket and wrapped it around him.
“So, little brother. Did you get any answers?”
Gabe shook his head.
“I guess you’ll just have to keep following the yellow brick road. Watch out for those flying monkeys.”
“Thanks for that.”
* * *
Gabe hadn’t called in nearly a week. Misty would be damned if she was going to call him. There were more tests and appointments, but her friend Julie said she’d take an afternoon off and go with her to the next one.
Misty really didn’t want to tell her friend anything was wrong, but fortunately, a plausible excuse was built into her eye exam. They asked her to have someone with her, because the medicine that would dilate her pupils for the exam could interfere with her vision for a little while.
She’d rather be able to see Gabe when she was with him, anyway. Picturing his tall, solid body and his naturally brooding expression didn’t help. She missed him like crazy. But letting him come to her would answer the only question she had about him. Unfortunately, she was getting the answer she didn’t want.
She wanted him to care. To call her and ask how she was feeling—at the very least. The truth was she was feeling better, and she wanted to tell him so.
The last thing she wanted was to become a burden on anyone. That scared her more than any disease or problem. And
she knew that would scare away almost any guy. Except, apparently, her boss, Adam. He’d been asking if there was anything he could do to help make her life easier. The only thing she wanted him to do was to stop asking.
Julie arrived, and Misty greeted her with a huge hug. Then she leaned back and stared at her friend. “Your hair! It’s purple!”
“Yeah. I wanted something different. It’s been too long, girl. What have you been doing with yourself?”
“You know. Work, work, work.”
“Ewww. No, I don’t know. I work as little as possible.”
Julie jogged down the stairs to the narrow sidewalk. Misty managed to get into her friend’s car without incident. She fastened her seat belt. “So, why are you doing the toy parties, if you don’t like to work?”
“For that reason exactly.” Julie started the still-warm car. “The parties are more fun than cleaning houses any day.”
“I’ll bet. You’re so fun and friendly. Isn’t there something else you could be doing instead of maid work?”
As Julie pulled away from the curb, she confessed, “Yeah. I thought about becoming a flight attendant… Hey! We could become flight attendants together!”
Shoot. That would be nice, but with numbness in her hands and feet, that might be a problem. “I don’t know about jet-setting all over the world. I mean, I can see you doing it, but I like Boston and want to stay right here.”
“Too bad.”
“So, what are you doing to make the flight attendant dream come true?”
Julie rolled her eyes. “Promise not to tell anyone?”
“Of course.”
“I went for an interview at Delta, and they offered me a ground position. Just what I want to be doing. Driving into Logan every day and checking in bags,” she said sarcastically.
“I’m sorry. Do you think the purple hair had something to do with it?”
“Nah. There was only a purple streak in it then. Something I could have easily dyed back. To be honest, I was so mad, I just did the whole thing bright purple to spite them.”
“Really? Don’t get me wrong—I like it. But I doubt they’re losing any sleep over your hair color.”
Julie chuckled. “I know. I never said I was logical.” After a brief silence, she changed the subject. “So, are you ready for the Tantalizing Toys party?”
“Is that what it’s called?”
“Yeah. I was going to send you a hostess kit, but since I was seeing you today, I just brought it with me. Dig around in my tote bag until you find it.”
Misty rummaged around in the huge bag. She pulled out a brochure with vibrators, roses, and nipple clamps on the cover. “I found it.” And she promptly dropped it in her lap. Her fingers were numb again. Dammit.
Julie grinned. “Are you shocked?”
“Not at all.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to do this. I mean, you were kind of a good girl in high school.”
“I was just involved in a lot of activities. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t interested in, um, other activities.” She turned the pages with the feeling of pins and needles in her hands.
“Okay. Well, good. It’s good to know you’re normal.”
Misty rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”
“So, how’s the kinda sorta boyfriend?”
Misty snorted before she realized how it might be interpreted.
“Oh crap. That’s too bad. Well, we’re in the same boat, then. Are you sure you don’t want to run away and see the world? I hear that European men love American women.”
Misty wanted to run away, all right, except that wherever she went, the body she was trying to figure out would be going with her.
* * *
The eye exam resulted in a new pair of glasses and a suggested MRI. When she said she’d already had one, the eye doctor said she’d send for the results.
At last it was the weekend, and Misty’s old high school friends were coming over. She hadn’t cared what the reason was. Julie’s adult toy party was as good an excuse as any. Now it seemed like the perfect suggestion. She needed to cut loose and have some fun.
As she was opening the red wine to breathe, she poured herself a glass. “Breathe this,” she said aloud and toasted the empty air in front of her. She took a generous swallow.
“Oh! I have to order the pizza.” She grabbed her purse out of the closet in her bedroom and called the pizza place down the street.
“Hi, can I order three large pizzas now but not have them delivered until seven? Yeah? Great.” She placed the order for one cheese, one pepperoni, and one vegetarian—and a salad. That should cover the bases.
She glanced down at what she was wearing. Her work clothes were much too fancy for this crowd, so she quickly changed out of her white silk blouse and gray suit and put on a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a purple sweater. Perfect. If she splashed some wine on it, no one would be the wiser.
At six sharp, the doorbell rang. Julie led the pack into her living room. They came in two cars but arrived together. Hugs were happily given all around.
Robin also sported a new hair color, but she went with pink. Misty wasn’t sure how she felt about the color. Robin’s had been such a pretty shade of golden blond.
Nanette had a new tattoo—this one on her wrist. Misty saw it as she took her coat.
“Can I get you guys some wine?”
“Hell yeah!” Nanette said.
Soon, the party was in full swing. She had put out appetizers and more wine. A lot more wine. They were joking and laughing, and Misty was fully relaxed for the first time in what felt like months. It had been a couple of weeks since Gabe had relaxed her into a sexual stupor.
She had briefly wondered if the party would affect her in a sad way. Gabe still hadn’t called. She’d called him a few choice names in her mind, however.
“C’mon, Misty. Let’s get this show on the road. Where can I set up?” Julie asked.
“Oh, I didn’t know what kind of space you needed. Is the ottoman enough room? I can get a tray if you need a flat surface.” Julie’s expression said it wasn’t ideal. “Or I have the dining table. We’ll have to make room when the pizza comes.” She checked her watch. “That will be in about half an hour.”
Julie shrugged. “I guess the ottoman will have to do. I need to leave the stuff out so everyone can touch it afterward.”
“You mean, we get to try it out?” Jordan asked.
Everyone laughed.
“Yeah, right,” Julie said. “I’ll just pull down the shades so the neighbors don’t get a free show.”
Julie began her demonstration, using a lot of double entendres, making her friends giggle and outright laugh. The wine didn’t hurt, either. Everyone was in a frisky mood when the doorbell rang.
“Oh, that must be the pizza!” Misty yelled out, “Be right there!” She walked briskly to her bedroom to get her wallet.
“I’ll get the door,” Nanette said.
Misty heard her friends squeal and murmur their approval. The pizza must smell delicious, she thought as she rounded the corner. Or the delivery guy might be a hunk.
Gabe stood there, like a deer in headlights.
“Take it off! Take it all off!” Robin shouted. Nanette was running her hands over his chest, and Jordan was pulling his coat off…or trying to.
Julie gave her a big grin. “You didn’t tell me you hired a stripper!”
“I didn’t! That’s my…” She felt helpless. She couldn’t say boyfriend. She didn’t have time to explain he was her brother’s friend.
Gabe yanked his coat out of Jordan’s hand, turned, and fled.
“Crap.”
“Uh-oh. Was that your kinda sorta boyfriend?” Julie asked.
“Not anymore.”
Chapter 10
Gabe was
horrified at first, then amused, then philosophical. Apparently, Misty wasn’t pining over him at all. It was nice to be mistaken for a stripper, he thought, until… Wait a minute. Misty hired a stripper? For what?
He almost turned around and marched back to her house, but he got ahold of himself. Shit. He had no right. He was trying to squash a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship, and acting like a caveman wouldn’t exactly accomplish that. He needed to talk to someone. Not one of his firefighter buddies. He’d never hear the end of it.
His real brothers might understand—or not. Luca was too young. It was Saturday night, so Noah and Dante were out playing wingman for each other. Jayce… Well, as much as he respected his older brother, he’d find it funny as hell.
Maybe Miguel. Crap. Miguel was so serious and had been married so long, he probably had less experience with this than Luca had. That left Ryan, who was in Ireland. Was it worth an international phone call?
Gabe kicked at the ice patches on the sidewalk and decided he’d figure out what to do by himself. He usually did.
Stopping at a busy coffee shop, he made his way inside and got in line. When his turn finally came, he ordered something a little more decadent than usual. A giant chocolate chip cookie and coffee with a double shot of espresso, instead of just the usual cup of joe.
When he’d paid for it and joined those loitering at the other end of the counter, waiting to pick up their orders, he was surprised to find a familiar face.
“Sandra?”
“Gabe! How are you doing?”
His sister-in-law was the last person he’d expect to see out in the world. Wasn’t she attached to his brother’s hip? He glanced around the store, then out the windows. “Where’s Miguel?”
She laughed. “We aren’t together every minute, you know. I’m taking a class.”
“A class?” he repeated.
She chuckled. “Yes. An art class.”
“I didn’t know you were into art.”
At that moment, Sandra’s name was called, and she picked up her frothy drink. He watched her put a packet of sugar substitute in and grab the top. When she came back, his name was called.
“Would you mind waiting a minute?” he asked.
