by Leanne Banks
Any second now she’s going to figure it out.
Dread licked along his spine. The thought of Lauren looking at him with sympathy or pity or something worse cut through to his bones. “Everything’s fine.”
She didn’t look convinced. But Gabe wasn’t about to start spilling his guts. He wanted to get out of there as fast as he could.
She half smiled and then spoke. “I’m just surprised to see you here. Are you visiting someone or—”
“Last I looked I wasn’t obligated to inform you of my movements.”
His unkind words lingered in the space between them, and he wanted to snatch them back immediately. Even though he knew it was better this way. For them both. He knew she was struggling with the attraction between them, just like he was. He knew she wanted someone different...someone who could give her the picket-fence life she craved. And that wasn’t him. She’d lost the man she’d loved to cancer. Of course she wouldn’t want to risk that again.
“I’m...sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have asked. I was only—”
“Forget it, Lauren,” Gabe said sharply, and saw her wince as he pulled his arm away. “And I...I didn’t mean to snap at you.” The elevator nearby dinged and opened, and he wanted to dive inside. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.”
Gabe moved away and stepped through the doors. Away from her. And away from the questions in her eyes.
But by the end of the week, he was so wound up he felt as though he needed to run a marathon to get her out of his system. He needed to, though...because he liked being around her too much. He liked the soft sound of her voice and the sweet scent of her perfume. He liked the way she chewed her bottom lip when she was deep in thought. He liked how her eyes darkened to a deep caramel when she was annoyed, and wondered how they’d look if she was aroused. He wondered lots of things...but nothing could happen.
She’d lost her fiancé to cancer...making it the red flag of the century.
And Gabe had no intention of getting seriously involved with anyone. Not until he was sure he could offer that someone a real future. He had a five-year plan. If he stayed cancer-free for five years, he’d consider a serious relationship. Maybe even marriage. Until then, Gabe knew what he had to do. He had to steer clear of commitment. He had to steer clear of Lauren.
* * *
Cameron returned from his honeymoon midweek and stopped by the surf club Saturday morning just as Gabe was finishing off first aid to a pair of siblings who’d become entangled with a jellyfish. He reassured their concerned mother her children would be fine, and then joined his friend at the clubhouse.
“Busy morning?” Cameron asked, looking tanned and relaxed from his weeks in the Mediterranean, as he flaked into a chair.
“The usual summer holiday nonsense,” he replied. “Sunburn and dehydration mostly.”
Cameron nodded. “Thanks for helping my sister out with Jed. She told me what happened to her door.”
Gabe shrugged. “No problem,” he said quickly, and tried to ignore the way his pulse sped up. He didn’t want to talk to his friend about Lauren. He didn’t want to think about Lauren. “Gotta get back to work.”
Cameron stood and shook his head. “Thanks again. And don’t forget to swing by my folks’ house tonight, around six,” he reminded him. “My beautiful wife is trying out her newly learned Greek cooking skills in my mother’s kitchen, so it should be mighty interesting.”
Gabe experienced an unexpected twinge of envy. His friend looked ridiculously happy. Cameron had the same dopey expression on his face that Scott permanently carried these days. He was pretty sure he’d never looked like that. Not even when he’d been with Mona.
“Sure,” he said, thinking the last thing he wanted to do was spend an evening at Lauren’s parents’ home, because he knew Lauren would be there, too. “See you then.”
When he got home that afternoon, he changed into jeans and a T-shirt and started painting the main bedroom. It kept him busy until five-thirty. Then he showered, dressed and grabbed his car keys.
When he reversed out of the yard, he realized that Lauren was doing the same thing. Their vehicles pulled up alongside one another at the end of their driveways. He stopped, as did she. Their windows rolled down simultaneously.
“Hi,” she said. “Are you going to my—”
“Yes,” he said, cutting her off.
“My brother mentioned you were coming. Probably foolish to take both cars?”
She was right. He should have offered to drive her. But he hadn’t seen her since their meeting at the hospital. He’d behaved badly. Rudely. Gabe nodded. “Probably.”
“So...” Her voice trailed. “Yours or mine?”
Gabe sucked in some air. “I’ll drive.”
Her mouth twisted. “Be back in a minute.”
He watched as she moved her car back up the driveway, got out and came around the passenger side of his Jeep. When she got in, the flowery scent of her perfume hit his senses. She buckled up and settled her gaze to the front.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He backed the car onto the road and then came to a halt. He had something to say to her. “Lauren, I want to apologize again for being so dismissive the other day.” He invented an excuse. “I was late for an appointment and—”
She waved a hand. “Like you said, not my business.”
Gabe was tempted to apologize again. But he didn’t. He nodded instead. “Okay.”
She flashed him a brief look. “Just so you know, when we turn up together my mother is going to think it’s a date.”
“It’s not, though,” he said, and drove down the street. “Right?”
“Right,” she replied.
Gabe reconsidered going to the Jakowskis’. He didn’t want Lauren’s mother getting any ideas. Or Cameron. Whatever he was feeling for Lauren, he had to get it under control. And fast.
* * *
Lauren knew the moment she walked into her mother’s kitchen that she was going to get the third degree. Irene had greeted them at the door, explained that Cameron had been called into work and would be joining them later and quickly shuffled Gabe toward the games room to hang out with her father.
Her mother ushered Lauren directly into the kitchen. Grace was there, standing behind the wide granite counter, looking radiant. Her new sister-in-law was exceptionally beautiful. In the past, she’d always considered the other woman frosty and a little unfriendly, but Lauren had warmed toward Grace since it was clear her brother was crazy in love with her, and she with him.
Lauren stepped in beside Grace and began topping her mother’s signature baked lemon cheesecake, a task she’d done countless times. Her sister-in-law remained silent, but her mother wasn’t going to be held back.
“It’s nice that Gabe could join us this evening. He really is quite handsome,” Irene said as she busied herself pulling salad items from the refrigerator. “Don’t you think? And such a lovely accent.”
Lauren’s gaze flicked up briefly. “Matka,” she warned, and half smiled. “Don’t.”
But she knew her mother wouldn’t give up. “Just stating the obvious.”
“His ancestors are Roman gods,” Lauren said, and grinned. “So of course he looks good.”
Irene laughed softly. “That’s the spirit...indulge my matchmaking efforts.”
“Well, there’s little point fighting it,” Lauren said with a sigh. “Even though you’re wasting your time in this case.”
“Do you think?” her mother inquired, still grinning as she grabbed a tray of appetizers. “Don’t be too quick to say no, darling. He might just be the best of both worlds,” Irene said, and smiled. “When you’re done decorating that cake, can you grab the big tureen from the cabinet in the front living room?”
Lauren smiled. “Sure,” she replied, and waited until her mother left the room before speaking to her sister-in-law. “See what I have to put up with?”
“She just cares about you,” Grace replied, and covered the potato dish she’d prepared. “And he seems...nice.”
He is nice. That was the problem. He was also sexy and gorgeous and not the settle-down kind of man she was looking for. He’d said as much. And she’d had nice before. Tim had been the nicest, most sincere man she’d ever known. Even James had been nice in his own charming, flirtatious way. The kind of nice she wanted now didn’t come with a handsome face and the ability to shoot her libido up like a rocket.
The best of both worlds...
What exactly did her mother mean? That Gabe was attractive, charming, funny and smart and just what any sensible woman would call the perfect package?
Too perfect. No one was without flaws. Secrets.
Lauren placed the cheesecake in the refrigerator and excused herself. The big living room at the front of the house was rarely used. It housed her mother’s treasures, like the twin glass lamps that had been in their family for four generations, and the cabinet of exquisite crockery and dinnerware. Lauren stopped by the mantelpiece and stared at the family photographs lining the shelf. There were more pictures on the long cabinet at the other end of the room. Her mother loved taking pictures.
She fingered the edge of one frame and her insides crunched. It was a snapshot of herself and Tim. He looked so relaxed and cheerful in the photo. They were smiling, pressed close together, his blond hair flopping over his forehead. Had he lived, he would have been soon celebrating his thirtieth birthday. She looked at his face again. It was Lauren’s favorite picture of him. Memories surged through her. Memories of love. And regret. And...anger. But she quickly pushed the feeling away. Anger had no place in her heart. Not when it came to Tim.
“You looked happy.”
Lauren swiveled on her heels. Gabe stood behind her. Engrossed in her memories, she hadn’t heard his approach. “Sorry?”
“In the picture,” he said, and stepped closer. “You looked happy together.”
“We were,” she said, intensely conscious of his closeness. “That’s...Tim,” she explained softly and pointed to the photograph. “He was always happy. Even when he was facing the worst of it, somehow he never lost his sense of humor.”
Gabe’s eyes darkened. “Did he pass away quickly?”
She nodded. “In the end...yes. He died just a few weeks before we were due to be married.”
“And then you married someone else?”
“Not quite two years later,” she replied and immediately wondered why she was admitting such things to him. “It was a big mistake.”
Gabe nodded a little. “Because you didn’t love him?”
“Exactly,” she said, and sucked in a short breath.
“There must have been something that made you marry him?”
Lauren’s skin grew hotter. “Sex.”
His blistering gaze was unwavering. “That’s all?”
“I’d had love,” she admitted, so aware of his closeness she could barely breathe. “And I’d lost it. When I met James, I thought attraction would be enough.”
“But it wasn’t?”
She sighed. “No.”
“And now you don’t want that, either?” he asked.
Lauren raised a shoulder. “I don’t expect anyone to understand.”
“Actually,” he said quietly. “I do. You lost the love of your life, then settled for something that left you empty, and now you want to find that no-risk, no-hurt, middle road.”
Middle road? Could he read her mind? “That’s right. I married my ex-husband after only knowing him for three months. It was a foolish impulse and one I regret...for his sake and mine.”
Gabe looked at the mantelpiece. “Which explains why there are no pictures of him.”
“My mother was never a fan of James,” she said, and felt his scrutiny through to her bones. “Once we divorced, the wedding pictures came down.” Lauren looked down to her feet and then back up to his gaze. “Ah...what are you doing in here? I thought you were out on the back patio with my dad.”
“I was,” he replied, and grinned fractionally. “But your mother sent me on a mercy dash to help you carry some kind of heavy dish.”
Lauren rolled her eyes and pointed to the tureen in the cabinet. “My mother is meddling.”
He smiled, like he knew exactly what she meant. “To what end?”
Lauren raised a shoulder. “Can’t you guess? I told you she’d think this was a date.”
His gaze widened. “Should I be worried?”
She laughed a little. “That my mother has her sights set on you? Probably.”
Gabe laughed, too, and the sound warmed her right through to the blood in her veins. He was so...likable. So gorgeous. And it scared her. With James, she’d jumped in, libido first, uncaring of the consequences. Still grieving the loss of the man she’d loved, Lauren had found temporary solace in arms that had soon left her feeling empty and alone. Although she’d thought him good-looking and charming, she’d realized soon after they’d married that they had very little in common. But the attraction she had for Gabe was different. The more time she spent with him, the less superficial it felt. Which put her more at risk.
“I shall consider myself warned,” he said, and chuckled.
Lauren walked toward the cabinet and opened the door. “Thanks for being so understanding,” she said, still grinning.
“I, too, have a meddling, albeit well-meaning mother who wants to see me...shall we say, settled. So I understand your position.”
For a second, she wondered what else they had in common. He clearly came from a close family, as she did. “Doesn’t she know you’re not interested in commitment?”
His gaze locked with hers. “I don’t think she quite believes me.”
Lauren’s breath caught. “Have you...”
“Have I what?”
She shrugged, trying to be casual but churning inside. “Have you changed your mind about that?”
Lauren couldn’t believe she’d asked the question. And couldn’t believe she wanted to know. Her elbow touched his arm and the contact sent heat shooting across her skin. She should have pulled away. But Lauren remained where she was, immobilized by the connection simmering between them.
“No,” he said after a long stretch of silence. “I haven’t.”
Of course, it was what she needed to hear. Gabe wasn’t what she wanted. Because he made her feel too much. He made her question the choice she’d made to remain celibate until she found someone to share her life with. He didn’t want what she wanted.
He’s all wrong for me....
Even though being beside him, alone and in the solitude of the big room, seemed so unbelievably normal, she was tempted to lean closer and invite him to kiss her. His gaze shifted from her eyes to her mouth, and Lauren sucked in a shallow breath. Her lips parted slightly and he watched with such searing intensity, her knees threatened to give way. There was heat between them, the kind that came before a kiss. The kind of heat that might lead to something more.
“Gabe...” She said his name on a sigh.
“We would be crazy to start something,” he warned, unmoving and clearly reading her thoughts.
“I know,” she agreed softly.
Crazy or not, she was strangely unsurprised when he took hold of her hand and gently rubbed his thumb along her palm. He was still watching her, still looking at her mouth.
“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”
She shivered at his question, despite the warmth racing across her skin. Lauren nodded, feeling the heat between them rise up a notch. “Do you have any idea
how much I want you to kiss me right now?”
His hand wrapped around hers. She was staring up, waiting, thinking about how she hadn’t been kissed for such a long time. And thinking how Gabe had somehow, in a matter of weeks, become the one man whose kiss she longed for.
Chapter Six
Gabe could have kissed her right then, right there. He could have lost himself in the softness of her lips and sweet taste of her mouth. He could have forgotten about his determination to keep away from her and give in to the desire he experienced whenever she was near. And he would have. But a loud crash followed by an equally loud shout pushed them apart immediately. The dish from the china cabinet was quickly forgotten as they both hurried from the room.
When they reached the kitchen, he saw there was glass and water on the floor and also a pile of tattered flowers. Lauren’s father was sitting on the ground, knees half-curled to his chest.
“Dad!” Lauren gasped as she rushed to his side.
Irene and Grace came through the doorway and stood worriedly behind Gabe as he quickly moved between them to settle beside the older man. Franciszek Jakowski was holding up a seriously bleeding hand, and Gabe quickly snatched up a tea towel from the countertop and wrapped it around his palm.
“I knocked the darn vase off the counter,” Franciszek explained as Gabe hauled him to his feet. “Cut myself when I fell.”
“Can you walk?” Gabe asked, knowing he needed to look at the wound immediately.
Franciszek winced as he put weight on his left foot. “Not so good.”
He looked at Lauren. “Hold your father’s hand up to help with the bleeding, and I’ll get him to a chair.”
She did as he asked, and Gabe hooked an arm around the other man’s shoulder and soon got him settled onto the kitchen chair. Blood streamed down his arm and splattered on Gabe’s shirt. He undid the towel and examined Franciszek’s hand. The cut was deep and would need stitches. Irene disappeared and quickly returned with a first-aid kit. Gabe cleaned and dressed the wound, conscious of the scrutiny of the three women hovering close by. Within minutes, he also had Franciszek’s left ankle wrapped with an elastic bandage.
