by Leanne Banks
“It didn’t work out,” he said again, a whole lot quicker than he would have liked. “I guess there’s your answer.”
Her brows arched. “So you didn’t love her? Not even a little bit?”
Gabe’s mouth twisted. “I didn’t realize there was such a thing as being a little bit in love. I cared for her, sure. But like I said, we didn’t work out. There’s no great mystery to it.”
He wasn’t about to tell Lauren that she was right—he hadn’t really loved his ex-girlfriend. He’d done her a favor by letting her go. He was sure of it. And besides, Mona hadn’t put up much resistance. Once she’d known she had an out clause, she’d left their relationship as quickly as she could.
Lauren bit her bottom lip, watching him. “So you got burned?”
He shrugged. “Not exactly.”
“Then what, exactly?” she asked.
“We split up,” he replied. “We went our separate ways. Neither of us was heartbroken.”
“Which leaves you where?” Her eyes were full of questions. “Working at the surf club and having casual relationships and sex with women who are equally uninterested in commitment?”
“Ah...I suppose.”
“Well, that sounds...like fun.”
Not.
That was what she was thinking. Shallow and meaningless and hollow. Gabe thought so, too...even though he’d drilled himself to accept his present and future. But he suddenly lost his appetite.
“It is what it is,” he said, and pushed back in his seat. “I’m not looking for...anything.”
She watched him, her brown eyes darkening. “I’ve always believed that we’re all looking for something...love or sex, belonging, companionship. Or maybe something more complicated, like peace of mind...or even isolation.”
Which one are you looking for?
That was the question in her words. Gabe shrugged a shoulder casually. She was so close to the truth. “Is that why your marriage didn’t work out?” he asked, shifting the focus back to her. “Because you wanted different things?”
She gripped her wineglass. “My marriage failed because my husband and I had nothing between us but fleeting physical attraction. Which isn’t enough,” she added.
It explained why she wanted a passionless relationship...sort of. “And now you’re looking for more?” he asked. “Or maybe less?”
“Sometimes less is more,” she replied. “Which is why I’m determined to think with my head next time...and not my—” she paused, smiling “—libido.”
Gabe tensed. Thinking of her libido didn’t do his any favors. “Or your heart?”
She smiled. “Precisely,” she said.
He remembered what his cousin had said to him the night before. She’d lost someone. She’d lost love and settled for sex. The fact that she now wanted a middle road made perfect sense. “Someone did get it, though?”
Her gaze was unwavering. “You mean my heart? Yes. Someone did.”
“Who was he?”
Silence stretched between them. He shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t want to know. The more he knew, the harder it would be to stay away from her.
“My first love. My only love, I guess.”
She said the words so quietly and with such raw honesty, his insides contracted. He didn’t want to hear any more. “You don’t have to—”
“His name was Tim,” she said, cutting him off. “We met in college. I was nineteen and studying business. He was across the hall in engineering. We fell in love. A few years later we got engaged. And then...”
Gabe knew what was coming, but he asked anyway. “And then, what?”
She drew in a sharp breath. “And then he died.”
“Was it an accident?”
She shook her head. “No. He was sick.”
Sick...
Gabe’s stomach churned uneasily, and he forced the next words out. “What kind of illness did he have?”
“Primary glioblastoma,” she replied. “It’s a—”
“I know what it is,” he said quickly and pushed his chair back some more.
Brain tumor...
An aggressive, unforgiving kind of cancer that usually left a patient with months to live rather than years. It was all he needed to hear. It was time to go. He needed to finish eating and leave.
“I’m sorry,” Gabe said, and spent the following few minutes pretending interest in his food. Even though he felt sick to his stomach. He pushed the meal around on the plate, finished his wine and declined the coffee she offered to make.
“I need to get going,” he said as soon as he felt it was polite to do so, and stood.
“Oh...sure.” She got to her feet. “Thanks again for looking after Jed.”
“No problem. Thanks for dinner.”
Once they reached the front door, he lingered for a moment. He liked her. A lot. She was sweet and warm and funny and so damned sexy, he could barely think of anything other than kissing her perfectly bowed mouth. He wanted Lauren in his bed more than he’d wanted anything for a long time.
But he wouldn’t pursue it.
She’d lost the man she’d loved to cancer.
And he’d bet his boots it wasn’t a road she’d ever want to travel again.
He needed to forget all about Lauren. And fast.
Chapter Four
Spending the evening with Gabe confirmed for Lauren that since her divorce, she’d gone into a kind of lazy hibernation. She’d quit volunteering at the surf club, rarely joined her mother for the tai chi classes she’d always loved and avoided socializing regularly with anyone other than her two closest friends. It hadn’t been a deliberate pulling away, more like a reluctance to go out and put on her happy face.
That needed to change.
Lauren knew if she was going to find someone to share her life with, she actually needed to start having a real life.
But that real life didn’t include her sexy neighbor.
On Friday night she went to the movies with Cassie and Mary-Jayne, stayed out afterward for coffee and cake and got home by ten.
There was a light on next door. Lauren ignored the fluttering in her stomach and headed inside. As soon as she’d crossed the threshold, she heard Jed’s whining. Minutes later she discovered her great plan of leaving him locked in the laundry was not such a great plan. It was, in fact, a disaster. He’d somehow chewed a hole in the back door, and his big head was now stuck between the timbers. Lauren groaned, cursed her brother under her breath for a few seconds and then attempted to pull the dog free. But he was lodged. His neck was wedged around the cracked timber, and she didn’t have the strength to pull him free.
Surprisingly, the dopey dog was in good spirits, and she patted him for a moment before she grabbed her phone. She could call her father? Or perhaps Mary-Jayne might be able to help?
Just get some backbone and go and ask Gabe.
She reassured the dog for a little while longer before she walked next door. The porch light flickered and she sucked in a breath and knocked.
Gabe looked surprised to see her on his doorstep.
“Lauren?” He rested against the door frame. “What’s up?”
He wore faded jeans that were splattered with paint, and an old gray T-shirt. There was also paint in his hair and on his cheek. She wanted to smile, thinking how gorgeous he looked, but didn’t. Instead, she put on a serious face.
“I need help.”
He straightened. “What’s wrong?”
“It might be better if you just see for yourself.”
He was across the threshold in seconds. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Jed, on the other hand...”
“What’s he done now?” Gabe asked as they headed down the steps.
“Like I said, you need to see this for yourself.”
A minute later they were in her house. They moved to the laundry and were facing Jed’s bouncing rear end. And Gabe was laughing loudly. Really loudly. In fact, he was laughing so hard he doubled over and gripped the washing machine.
“It’s really not that funny,” she said crossly and planted her hands on her hips. “He could be hurt.”
“He’s not hurt,” Gabe said, still chuckling as he moved across the small room and knelt down beside the dog. “The goofy mutt is just stuck.”
“Exactly. He’s wedged in and I can’t pull him free.”
He examined the door. “Do you have a hammer?”
“A hammer?”
“I need to knock a bit of this plywood out the way,” he explained.
She nodded and grabbed the small toolbox under the sink. “I think there’s something in here.”
He opened the box, found the small hammer and got to work on the door. Jed whined a little, but Lauren placated him with pats and soothing words while Gabe made the hole large enough for the dog’s head to fit back through. It took several minutes, but finally Jed was free and immediately started bounding around the small room, whipping Lauren’s legs with his tail.
“Oh, that’s good,” she said on a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”
“He looks okay,” Gabe said, smiling. “But your door’s not so lucky.”
Lauren glanced at the door. The hole was bigger than she’d thought. “I’ll need to call someone to fix it on Monday.”
He nodded as he rose to his feet. “Sure. I’ll board it up for you now so you’ll be safe over the weekend.”
Lauren’s insides contracted. The way he spoke, the way he was so genuinely concerned about her, melted what was left of her resentment toward him.
Admit it...you like him.
A lot.
Too much.
“Ah—thanks,” she said quietly and moved Jed out of the small room.
Gabe followed her. “Be back soon,” he said as he strode down the hallway and headed out the front door.
He returned five minutes later with a large square piece of plywood, a cordless drill and a box of screws, and quickly repaired the hole. Lauren watched from her spot near the door, absorbed by the way he seemed to do everything with such effortless ease. Nothing fazed him. He was smart and resourceful and sexy and warmed the blood in her veins. Gabe made her think of everything she’d lost. And everything she was determined to avoid.
“Lauren?”
His voice jerked her back to earth. He was close. They were sharing the space in the narrow doorway, and Lauren’s gaze got stuck on his chest and the way the paint-splattered T-shirt molded his chest. Her fingertips itched to reach up and touch him, to feel for herself if his body was as strong and solid as it looked. She remembered how he’d pulled her from the pool at the wedding and how his hands had felt upon her skin. It had been a long time since she’d felt a man’s touch. Longer still since she’d wanted to.
Memories of Tim swirled around in her head. She’d loved him. Adored him. She’d imagined they would spend their lives together, loving one another, having children, creating memories through a long and happy marriage. But he’d never, not once, made her knees quiver and her skin burn with such blistering, scorching awareness. Even the fleeting desire she’d felt for James seemed lukewarm compared to the way Gabe made her feel. Her sex-starved body had turned traitor, taunting her...and she had to use her head to stay in control.
“I was...I was thinking...”
Her words trailed off when she looked up and met his blistering gaze. There was so much heat between them. Undeniable heat that combusted the air and made her stomach roll.
“Thinking?” he asked softly. “About what?”
Lauren willed some movement into her feet and managed to step back a little. “Your jacket,” she muttered and turned on her heels and fled through the kitchen and toward the guest bedroom.
When she returned, Gabe was in the hallway, tools in hand.
“I forgot to return this,” she explained and passed him the dinner jacket he’d given her the night of the wedding and which she’d since had dry-cleaned. “Thank you for lending it to me.”
“No problem.” He took the garment and smiled. “Well, good night.”
“Ah—and thanks again for freeing Jed.... Your saving me from disaster is becoming something of a habit.”
“No harm in being neighborly,” he said casually.
Too casually. She knew he was as aware of her as she was of him. But they were skirting around it. Denying it.
“I guess not. Good night, Gabe.”
He left, and Lauren closed the door, pressing her back against it as she let out a heavy sigh. Being around Gabe was wreaking havoc with her usual common sense. He wasn’t what she wanted. Sure, she could invite him into her bed for the night. But that was all it would be. He’d called her Commitment 101, and he was right. He’d told her he didn’t do serious. He didn’t want a relationship. They were too different.
* * *
When she arrived at The Wedding House the following morning, her mother was there before her, as was their part-time worker, Dawn.
“You look terrible,” her mother remarked, clearly taking in her paler-than-usual skin and dark smudges beneath her eyes. Lauren wasn’t surprised she looked so haggard—she hadn’t slept well. Instead, she’d spent the night fighting the bedsheets, dreaming old dreams, feeling an old, familiar pain that left her weary and exhausted.
“Gee—thanks,” she said with a grin. “Just a little sleep deprived because of Jed, but I’ll tell you about that later.”
Irene smiled. “Are you heading to the surf club this afternoon? Or do you want me to go? We have to have the measurements for the stage and runway to the prop people by Monday, remember?”
She remembered. There was a fund-raiser at the surf club planned for two weeks away, and although Grace was the event organizer, Lauren volunteered to help in her sister-in-law’s absence. Since she was organizing a fashion parade for the night anyway, it wasn’t too much extra work liaising with the staging and entertainment people and the caterers.
“I’ll go this afternoon,” she said, and ignored the silly fluttering in her belly. All she had to do was measure the area for the stage and change rooms for the models. It was not as if she would be hanging around. It was not as if she had a reason to want to hang around.
“If you’re sure,” her mother said, her eyes twinkling.
Her übermatchmaking mother knew very well that Gabe might be there.
“I’m sure,” she insisted. “And stop doing that.”
Her mother raised both brows. “What? I just want to see my only daughter happy.”
“I want to see me happy, too,” Lauren said, and instructed Dawn to open the doors.
“I’m concerned about you,” Irene said, more seriously.
“I’m fine, Matka,” she promised. “Just tired, like I said.”
The models for the parade had started coming into the store for their fittings, and that morning Carmen Collins crossed the threshold and held court like she owned the world. They’d gone to school together, and the self-proclaimed society princess made it her business to insult Lauren at every opportunity. But the other woman knew people with deep pockets, and since that was what the fund-raiser was about, Lauren bit her tongue and flattered Carmen about the tight-fitting, plum-colored satin gown she was wearing in the parade.
“I do adore this color,” Carmen purred and ran her hands over her hips. “So are you modeling in the parade?”
“No,” Lauren replied and saw her mother’s raised brows from the corner of her eye. “I’ll be too busy with the show.”
“Pity,” Carmen said with a sugary
laugh. “You do look so sweet in a wedding dress.”
Lauren plastered on a smile and pulled back the fitting room drapes. “Maybe next year,” she said, clinging to her manners as though they were a life raft. “I’ll have the dress pressed and ready for the show.”
The other woman left by eleven, and her mother didn’t bother to hide her dislike once Carmen was out the door.
“Can’t bear that woman,” Irene said, and frowned. “She was an obnoxious teenager and hasn’t improved with age.”
“But she married a rich man and knows plenty of people who’ll donate at the fund-raiser,” Lauren reminded her mother. “That’s all that matters, right?”
Her mother huffed out a breath. “I suppose. Anyway, we’ve only got three more of the models to come in for a fitting and we’re done. So off you go.” She shooed Lauren and smiled. “I’ll close up.”
Lauren grinned, hugged her mother, quickly changed into gunmetal-gray cargo pants, a pink collared T-shirt and sneakers and then headed to the Crystal Point Surf Club & Community Center to measure the space she’d need for the catwalk.
The holiday park was filled with campers and mobile homes, and she drove down the bitumen road that led to the clubhouse. Almost a year earlier, the place had been gutted by fire, and the renovated building was bigger and better with much-improved facilities. She parked outside, grabbed her tape measure and notebook and headed through the automatic doors on the ground level.
And came to an abrupt halt.
Gabe was there.
Wet, laughing and clearly having a good time in the company of a lifeguard, a young woman who Lauren vaguely recalled was named Megan.
“Lauren?” he said as he straightened from his spot leaning against the reception desk. “What brings you here?”
She held up the tape. “Benefit stuff,” she said, and tried to ignore the way the safety shirt he wore outlined every line and every muscle of his chest and shoulders at the same time as the little green-eyed monster was rearing its head.
Snap out of it.
“Do you know Megan?” he asked and came toward her.
She nodded. “Hello.”
