Could Be the Reason: (Gabe and Sadie) (A Back to Jetty Beach Romance Book 3)

by Claire Kingsley

  A tingle of fear hits me. Can I do this? I haven’t been kissed since before…

  His lips meet mine and my eyes flutter closed. Oh god, I missed this feeling. He gently touches his fingers to my face and slides his thumb along my jaw. A thousand pings of sensation flood through me, rushing down my spine, spreading across my skin. His mouth caresses mine, soft but insistent.

  Without conscious thought, I shift closer and his other hand slips around my waist. I wasn’t expecting the touch, but the feel of his tongue sliding across my lips distracts me from the slight shock. I part my lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Breath comes faster, tongues dance. He tastes faintly of wine. I clutch his shirt in tight fists and everything melts away with the heat of his mouth on mine.

  His hand slides to the back of my neck and he tightens his grip.

  Panic.

  I can’t move my neck, my head immobilized between his mouth and hand. I open my fists and press hard against his chest, pushing him away from me.

  He releases me instantly, his hands dropping. My hands are still on his chest, my arms outstretched.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  No. No. I don’t want him to think I didn’t want him to kiss me. God, why do I have to be such a disaster? “No, that was… you don’t have to apologize.”

  He’s already backing up. Standing. Damn it, he’s going to leave.

  “Gabriel, please.”

  He stops.

  Deep breath. “That was me, not you. Please don’t go.”

  “Sadie, what’s going on?” He lowers himself onto the edge of the couch.

  I glance at the ice cream, starting to melt in the carton. Can I tell him? Can I trust him with any of this?

  What if he doesn’t believe me?

  “I’m sorry, this is hard for me,” I say. “I moved to Jetty Beach because I had to get away from someone. His name is…” Hard swallow before I can say it out loud. “Adam Cooper. He was causing problems for me. He did some things he shouldn’t have and it made me skittish. Too skittish, I think. What he did has nothing to do with you.”

  “Is that why you have all the locks on the front door?” he asks.

  I nod. “It makes me feel safer.”

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

  “No, I’m glad you did,” I say. “I wanted you to. I’m just not used to it. I got scared for a second.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he says, his voice so gentle it almost breaks me. He slides his hand over the top of mine, his skin warm. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  I nod. It’s all I can do. If I speak again, I’ll probably cry.

  He takes my hands in his and holds them as he leans in again. He meets my eyes, his eyebrows lifted, our noses on the brink of touching. Can I? his eyes say.

  I smile and give him another little nod. Keeping his hands clasped with mine, he kisses me again. Soft. Tender. My shoulders relax, the knots of tension easing. His lips are gentle—careful. For the first time in a long time, desire blooms deep in my core.

  Gabriel pulls away and meets my eyes. I can see his silent question. Was that okay?

  I bite my lower lip and smile again.

  “I’m going to the farmer’s market in the morning. Come with me?”

  “Sure,” I say, slightly breathless.

  He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good. I’ll pick you up at nine.”

  “Okay.”

  He squeezes my hands before he gets up. There’s a part of me that wants him to stay. But somehow, we both seem to know that I can’t yet. Even if I can imagine him touching me, feeling my bare skin. I can imagine letting him in.

  But I’m not ready.

  I stand and walk him to the door. “Thank you for coming by.”

  “I’m very glad I did,” he says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Have a good night, Gabriel.”

  “I will now.” He leans in and brushes the softest of kisses across my lips. “Goodnight.”

  He leaves and I make sure to secure all the locks. I touch my fingers to my lips, the memory of his mouth against mine branded on them, hot and captivating.

  I’m caught in a haze of conflicting emotions. Fear. Longing. Doubt. Tenderness.

  Hope.

  So much hope in the feel of my swollen lips, my sensitive skin. Hope that maybe I’m not broken beyond repair. Maybe my life didn’t end with Adam Cooper.

  Maybe it can begin again with Gabriel Parker.

  11

  Sadie

  I’m up early, the excitement of going to the farmer’s market with Gabriel making it hard to sleep. The memory of his kiss is still so keen—it could have been seconds ago, not hours. I slept soundly, and despite waking at the crack of dawn, I feel rested.

  I shower and get dressed, taking the time to blow-dry my hair so it hangs down in soft waves. I add a touch of makeup, wrinkling my nose at the smattering of freckles across my face.

  It’s been a while since I checked the email account my family knows about, but I have some time, and I should get it over with. My heart starts to race as I open my laptop and power it on. At first, their emails were full of shouting in all-caps and exclamation points. Demands to know where I am. That I come home. Lots of guilt.

  My therapist helped me craft short answers that I could simply copy and paste.

  No, I will not tell you where I am, but I’m safe.

  No, I am not coming back.

  No, I will not give you that information.

  She likes me to use the word no a lot.

  It took a while, but the tone of their emails softened. They stopped demanding things and started asking questions. I still stuck with short replies, not wanting to give them any information that might lead them to my whereabouts. They’re my family, and they aren’t monsters; but they betrayed me, and I don’t think I’ll ever trust them again.

  I open the account and have three unread emails. The messages from my mother and father—one from each—are expected. The third makes my throat feel like it’s closing and a sick feeling rolls through my stomach.

  It’s from my brother, Tyler.

  I read Mom’s first. It’s an attempt at casual conversation, but I can feel the strain in her words. She tells me she joined a new knitting club. Asks how I am. Do I have a job? She mentions that my cousin is getting married and I’m invited to the wedding.

  Yeah, that’s a big no.

  I send her a short reply, letting her know I do have a job and it’s going well. I ignore the casual invite to the wedding.

  My dad’s message is typical. He hopes I’m okay and says he’ll see me soon.

  No, you won’t, Dad.

  I reply with, I hope you’re doing well, too.

  My mouse hovers over my brother’s name. Tyler Sedgwick. He hasn’t attempted to contact me even once since I left. I have no idea what he thinks about it. All I know is that he stood by his friend when I tried to tell him what Adam did. He didn’t believe me. He shook his head and walked away.

  I click on his message.

  Sadie,

  Been a while since we talked. I’d hoped you would have come back by now, but Mom and Dad say you keep insisting that you’re not. That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?

  I’m just going to be blunt. This running away thing is bullshit. You took off and no one knows where you are. What is that about?

  Adam isn’t mad for what you said about him. Maybe if you just come home, we could all sit down and air this out, once and for all. We all need to move on.

  Tyler

  I stare at the screen, my mouth hanging open, my heart racing. Adam isn’t mad? As if I care what Adam is feeling. He could fucking die and I wouldn’t shed a single tear.

  I close out of email and slam my laptop closed. I’m not even going to dignify that message with a response. Tyler wants to twist this so that I left because I’m afraid that Adam is mad? I ha
te that he believes that asshole over me—his own sister.

  I take a deep breath and count backward from ten, a tool my therapist taught me. By the time I get to one, my heart is resuming its normal rhythm. The sick feeling in my stomach persists, but I know it will pass.

  It’s not always easy, but one thing I’ve learned: I’m a survivor. All these tiny little wounds still have the power to sting, but they can’t ruin me.

  Not again.

  It’s amazing how much better I feel when Gabriel picks me up. Just seeing him smiling at me when I open the door eases the last vestiges of nausea leftover from reading Tyler’s email. I consider talking to Gabriel about it, but decide against it. I’d have to tell him the details of what happened between me and Adam, and I don’t think I have the stomach for it. As much as I desperately want to trust him, I’m afraid it might be too much. And I don’t want to put a damper on our morning.

  Gabriel holds my hand as we wander through the stalls of the market. The sun is warm but a cool breeze comes in off the ocean. He buys us freshly made cinnamon sugar donuts and lattes for breakfast. My heart nearly beats out of my chest when he licks the cinnamon and sugar off my fingertips.

  We spend a couple hours walking around, and he chats with a few of the farmers. I love the feel of his hand on my back, or twined together with mine.

  When he takes me home, he parks in my driveway and leans in close. What begins as a quick kiss turns into anything but. His mouth caresses mine, his fingertips gently touching my chin. Minutes pass—or maybe time stops, I can’t quite tell. My sensitive lips tingle with the heat of his kiss.

  Eventually, we pull apart. He walks me to my door and kisses me again before we say goodbye.

  Reluctantly, I go inside. But I have to get ready for work soon, and I can’t sit in a car making out with Gabriel all day.

  Actually, yes I could.

  At least I get to see him at work in a couple of hours.

  I’m a little nervous when I get to the restaurant. Is Gabriel going to say anything? Are we keeping this quiet? Is there a this?

  I don’t see him when I hang up my purse in the back, so I get to work. I’m in and out of the kitchen while I help get things ready. He appears, but he’s as busy as I am. I see him from behind for a moment, but he’s talking to Clover.

  Focusing on my job isn’t too hard. I like simply being here, knowing he’s nearby. There’s comfort in his presence. The front doors are opened and our first guests arrive, so I’m quickly occupied with my tables.

  I come back into the kitchen and Gabriel’s eyes meet mine. His mouth turns up in a subtle smile and a tingle runs through my tummy. I smile back, but my cheeks warm and I glance away as I take my table’s appetizers. I feel like everyone here is going to take one look at me and know there’s something going on between us. Today at the market it was easy to forget that he’s my boss, but it’s a complication I can’t deny. What are the rest of the staff going to think?

  What’s Clover going to think?

  I can’t tell if she notices the way Gabriel keeps looking at me. Of all the people I work with, her opinion of this matters the most to me. She’s become the closest thing I have to a friend since I moved, and I hate the idea that she might not like me seeing Gabriel.

  I see Clover a little later and she gives me a bright smile. That sets my nerves at ease—just in time for another smoldering look from Gabriel that makes my heart race.

  We’re busy, and the service goes by quickly. We get things cleaned up for the night and I find myself lingering as the rest of the staff starts to filter out, everyone heading home.

  Gabriel is always the last one here. He gives the counters a final wipe down while Sam turns out the dining room lights and leaves. I don’t need to stay, and he didn’t exactly ask me to. But I can’t quite make myself take the final steps to the back door. I fiddle with something in my purse, pretending to search for my keys.

  When I glance up, Gabriel is standing in front of me, wearing that quiet smile he shows so rarely in the kitchen.

  “I’m glad you’re still here,” he says.

  “Yeah, I at least wanted to say goodnight.”

  He steps closer and slips a hand on my waist. I tilt my chin up and he leans in, pressing his lips against mine. He’s no longer hesitant, like he’s waiting to see if I’m willing. He kisses me with purpose, drawing me close to his body, his lips firm. His tongue slides against my lips, beckoning me for more. I give him what he wants, my body softening against him while he kisses me deeply. I drape my arms around his shoulders and lose myself in the feel of kissing him. Strong arms surround me and his mouth is soft and pliant against mine.

  Moments pass, and we don’t stop, like a couple of teenagers who have a sudden moment unsupervised. One hand reaches beneath my shirt and I gasp at the feel of his hand on the bare skin of my back.

  A noise behind me makes us both pause. Gabriel pulls away slightly and his eyes look past me, into the kitchen.

  “Don’t stop because of me.” Clover’s voice. “I just forgot my phone. Carry on!”

  I feel frozen to the spot, unable to turn around, but I can hear Clover’s footsteps as she walks behind me. Gabriel doesn’t let go or move away. I follow his eyes as he watches Clover.

  “Night, you two,” Clover says. “And it’s about freaking time, by the way.”

  Gabriel’s shoulders shake with a soft laugh and he rests his forehead against mine.

  “Oops,” I say. “I guess this isn’t a secret anymore?”

  He brushes my hair back from my face and rests his palm on my cheek. “You were never going to be a secret.”

  “I wasn’t sure if the rest of the staff would think it’s a problem,” I say.

  “Yeah, I know I’m your boss. But I think it would be worse if we try to hide our relationship.”

  Relationship? My heart flutters at the sound of that word. “Is that what this is?”

  Gabriel’s smile disappears and he drops his hand. “If you don’t want—”

  “Wait.” I step closer and put a hand on his chest. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

  His hand rests on the side of my face again. “Good. Me too. Although I feel like making you tag along with me to the market is a poor substitute for a date. We’re both working tomorrow, but can I take you out for breakfast?”

  Happiness swirls through me like a handful of sparkling confetti. “Yes, I’d love that.”

  “Good.”

  He kisses me again, tenacious but unhurried.

  “We should probably go home, or I won’t be able to let you go,” he says, whispering into my mouth.

  I nod. As good as this feels, I know I’m not ready for more.

  12

  Gabe

  My keys hit my desk with a metallic clink and I sit down. There’s a copy of our menu sitting on my desk. I’d bet anything Clover left it there as a reminder that we need to update it. I already added a couple of different dishes from last year, so it won’t be exactly the same. But we both know that isn’t enough. All it would take is the wrong customer, or worse, a critic, to come in and realize I’m serving the same things for my reputation to take a serious hit.

  I thought about spending the morning at home trying some new ideas. But as I sipped my morning coffee, staring at the gourmet kitchen I designed myself, my shoulders slumped. The hollowness that’s been eating at me filled my chest. I knew I would only wind up frustrated.

  I’m not sure what I need to do to get my spark back. What do people do when the magic runs out? I’ve been faking it for so long; it’s only a matter of time before I can’t hide it anymore.

  Instead, I called Sadie and took her to lunch. Being with her certainly took the edge off. It always does. I’ve been spending time with her as often as I can. I have to admit, I’m feeling the strain on my schedule. I’m used to pouring most of my waking hours into the restaurant. Making time for Sadie means I’m falling behind on things at work.

  Linda appe
ars at my door. “Afternoon. Have you seen it yet?”

  “Have I seen what?”

  “The article.”

  “No, is it out?”

  “Yep,” she says. “They’re sending us the hard copies, so I don’t have them yet. But it’s up online.”

  I glance at my laptop, remembering Alice’s face when I turned her down. I’m not sure if I want to read it. “Is it good?”

  “Yes,” she says, emphatic. “It’s very positive. It focuses on you being young and living your dream of owning this restaurant, here in your hometown.”

  “But?” I ask.

  “I didn’t say but.”

  “I’m sure there’s something.”

  She sighs. “There’s a line or two you won’t like. It’s nothing too bad.”

  I groan and click the keyboard to bring my laptop out of sleep mode.

  “I sent you the link.”

  “Thanks.”

  Linda goes back to her office. I open her message and click on the link.

  She’s right, most of the article isn’t bad. The angle Alice chose is of a young man who made his dream come true. How I breathed new life into the restaurant that was so special to me. She uses the story I shared about the old head chef, a tall Italian guy named Nico, and how he’d let me come in and work with him on slow nights when I was a teenager. How my love of cooking blossomed here, in this very kitchen, and how my life came full circle when I took over.

  I get toward the end and my back tightens.

  Although he cooks delicious food, arguably the best in the region, Gabriel Parker’s personal life leaves something to be desired. A self-described workaholic, his addiction to his work keeps him from maintaining close relationships. His wife Amanda left him after he took ownership of the Ocean Mark, unable to cope with the strain his obsession with his career put on their marriage. Now, he spends most of his free time alone, absorbed in his cooking and his business.

  I wonder how she found out about Amanda. I don’t remember giving Alice her name. She probably asked one of the staff. It figures she’d get in a dig about my relationships—or lack thereof.