by JM Stewart
“I’m sorry. The restaurant is full, and being in a crowd still makes me a little antsy. They seated us in the center of the room. There’s nothing solid behind me.” He shrugged, trying to play it off, to not sound as pathetic as he felt. “It’s still an instinct to want to protect my back.”
Not sitting with his back to the wall had every nerve ending pulsing like a live wire, and his senses expanded, homed in on every damn sound around him. Every chink of silverware or sudden burst of laughter was a grenade going off. It made his head pound and his heart hammer like a freight train.
She smiled. “Don’t worry, big guy. I’ve got your back.”
The knot in his gut relaxed a fraction. He’d always loved that about her, her understanding, forgiving nature. “I appreciate that. I have to admit I also haven’t done this in a while. I have no idea what to say to you.”
She glanced down, twirling the ceramic cup between her fingers. “So is this officially a date, then? I’d just assumed we were old friends catching up.”
“I’m not altogether sure. Either way, eleven years is a long time.” And there was a lot of water under this bridge.
“Well, for what it’s worth, you’re not alone there. I’m not sure what to say to you, either.” She lifted her tea, peering at him over the rim as she took another sip. “Can I ask why you’re here? Why a dating service, I mean?”
He let out a quiet laugh, grateful for the subject change. That, at least, was an easy question. “Because Char and Molly tell me it’s time.”
She stared at him for a beat, shrewd eyes working his face. Seconds later, her eyes filled with an empathy that caught him in the chest. “You lost someone.”
His whole body tensed as he tried to prepare himself for the reaction to come. The one reaction that, while kind and expected, still felt like pouring salt into an open wound. “My wife died three years ago.”
Steph put a hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with the exact look he’d feared: the pity and concern. “Oh, Gabe…”
When her hand shot across the table, he yanked his out of reach and clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. “Don’t.”
If one more person told him how sorry they were he’d come unglued. All the sorry in the world didn’t bring Julia back or make it any easier to pick up and move on. Molly was right. It had been three years. He wanted—needed—to move on. Knowing that didn’t make it easy. Even three years later, he still had trouble.
Grief squeezed at his chest, so tight he had to force himself to inhale. Right behind it came the anger he didn’t know what to do with, the desperate desire to put his fist through something. Seated across the table from Steph, of all people, only compounded the guilt eating at his stomach.
Steph stared for a moment, then pulled her hand back slowly. She sat stiffly, looking down at her tea. “I’m sorry.”
He blew out a pent-up breath, forcing himself to release the emotions along with it. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. Obviously, it’s still a sore spot. It’s really hard to forget and move on when people give you that look.”
She glanced up, eyes full of remorse and understanding. “You still miss her.”
“’Cause that’s what you want to hear your date tell you, right?” He let out a bitter laugh and shoved shaking fingers through his hair, pulling his bangs off his forehead. “Sorry, Steph. I’m not sure this was a good idea.”
The waitress arrived then, and tense silence rose over the table as she set their plates in front of them. Steph dug into hers and Gabe followed suit, grateful for a moment to collect himself. Except they ate in silence for too damn long. The Panang curry he’d ordered was good, the sauce smooth and creamy with a slightly spicy kick, the chicken tender. Not that he cared.
Finally, Steph set down her fork and sat back. She studied him, her shrewd gaze, like always, seeming to see right through him. After a moment, she set her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers. “Can I ask you something?”
He picked up his fork and concentrated on stirring the pile of rice into the spicy sauce on his plate. He hated avoiding her, but he had no desire to know what played in her eyes or discover what she’d seen in his. “I just bit your head off for being nice. I’m pretty sure that earns you the right to ask anything you want.”
She remained silent a moment, but her intense gaze burned into him. Finally, she reached across the table, laying her hand over his wrist. “Gabe, look at me.”
He blew out a heavy breath and did as she asked. He owed her that much at least. What he found in her gaze, however, wasn’t what he’d expected. Her brows furrowed, blue eyes stern. A look he well recognized. Steph was about to get her lecture on. God, she really hadn’t changed.
She squeezed his wrist. “It’s okay.”
He gripped his fork tight in his fist with the frustration winding through him. “No. It’s not.”
Never one to be deterred, she pulled her hand back, only to set it on the table, palm up. What she wanted was clear as day, but damned if he could bring himself to set his hand in hers. It would be a connection, not only to another human being, but to her. A woman he’d relied on once, whose body he’d know by feel in the darkest of rooms. It didn’t matter how many times he told himself it was okay, normal even. After all, Julia was gone; she’d want him to move on. Had told him as much. It still felt like cheating.
Steph wiggled her fingers in insistence.
He gave in. When her soft fingers closed around his, something inside of him sighed, the relief so profound the tension in his chest finally eased.
She set her other hand on top, encompassing his fingers in the warmth of hers. “It’s okay.”
He frowned and shook his head. “I still don’t agree, but thank you. You had a question.”
Her thumb stroked his palm. Idle. Torturous. That single stroke shuddered through him, lighting up every nerve ending along the way, and for a moment he could only stare at her slender fingers. It had been so long since a woman had touched him that way. With tenderness. With care. It filled a need he’d forgotten about and created a dozen more. Christ. Did Steph have any idea how badly he needed that touch?
“Now, how ’bout you give me the real reason you’re here.”
Her softly spoken comment pulled him out of his reverie, and he looked up at her. He found himself answering honestly and praying, somehow, she’d understand. The way she used to. “Ever want something you can’t pin down?”
A slow smile slid across her face. “Yeah.”
He focused on her familiar blue eyes and let them give him the courage to say what he needed her to know. “Molly’s been bugging me. She says it’s time I moved on, and to a certain extent, she’s right. I don’t do well on my own. The nights…”
He shook his head, at a loss to explain any further, and shifted his gaze to the other side of the restaurant, watching for a moment as a waitress set plates in front of an elderly couple. How the hell did he explain something that didn’t make much sense to him either?
“Are too long.”
Steph’s words drifted across the table at barely a murmur, but she might as well have shouted them. Surprised once again by the understanding in her tone, he turned his head. Having released his hand, she now dug through her pad thai noodles, her gaze on her plate, but her cheeks flushed. Only someone who went to bed alone every night could possibly understand the loneliness it left in your chest. To know she went to bed that way set his teeth grinding together. Earlier, he’d been too surprised at discovering she was his date to really think about it. Then he’d gotten lost in the past.
Now a million questions filled his mind. Like why she wasn’t married yet. Or why she needed a dating service in the first place. It also relit that flame in his gut. The desire. He longed to fall into her again, to wrap his body around her and lose himself in her touch. Despite hoping otherwise, he hadn’t expected to feel desire for his date tonight. With Steph, that fire flared all too easily. The problem was, he wasn’t sure he
could be anything she needed.
Which meant that wherever this night led them, whatever her expectations for this date, she deserved to know where he stood.
He folded his hands on the table. “You asked earlier if this was a date. I suppose I should be honest with you. I’m not looking for anything permanent.”
She looked up, brows raised in surprise. A beat later she sobered, offering him a soft smile. “Relax, Gabe. No pressure. Tell me about your daughter.”
He scooped another bite of the curry and stuffed it in his mouth, using the task to try to cool his jets. He didn’t want to talk about Char. All he could think about was Steph, about how badly she made his cock ache.
It was time to distract her or he’d lose his mind.
“Your turn. Why the need for a dating service?” He darted a glance at her as he scooped another forkful of the curry. “Sorry, but I just can’t see it. The Stephanie Mason I knew was an incorrigible flirt.”
Her fork paused halfway to her mouth. She held it there for a moment before setting it down on her plate. “You want the truth or the fluff version?”
He gave a half-hearted shrug. Hell, let’s go for broke. “The truth.”
Her gaze locked on his, bold and unapologetic, but her throat bobbed.
“I’ve done the whole one-night fling thing for too long now. I want…something different. I want someone who’ll remember my name, who wants more than just a night of great sex.” Just as quickly as her boldness had come, she dropped her gaze to her plate, pushing her food around but never really accomplishing anything. “Someone worth waking up to.”
The hurt she couldn’t quite hide seeped into her tone. Irritation punched him hard in the stomach and bristled along his nerve endings. He’d always hoped she was happy and settled. Obviously, there was a wound in there somewhere, and he had the sudden urge to deck the asshole responsible for it.
“And you haven’t.”
Like someone had drawn the shades over her, the look disappeared. Steph straightened in her seat and forked a bite of noodles but wouldn’t look at him. “Not yet. Truth is, I haven’t allowed myself to.”
He followed her lead for the moment and concentrated on his plate. If she wasn’t comfortable sharing, he wouldn’t push. They ate in unbearable silence, and the knowledge slowly drove him insane. He hated the thought of someone hurting her to the degree that she’d closed herself off. It was a lonely way to live.
Unable to stand it, he set down his fork and looked up at her. “Why haven’t you?”
She stared at him for a beat, then made a show of pouring herself another cup of tea, stirring in a teaspoon of sugar, then taking a sip. Finally, she shrugged.
“I made a fool of myself for a man once. For a while I was determined never to make that mistake again. But it’s lonely, and I hate sleeping alone. Hate waking up to a stranger even more.” She set down her tea and pinned him with a direct, focused stare. “Your turn. What did you hope to get out of this date?”
“I wanted…something in the middle. A first step. I’m not sure I’m ready for something permanent again yet, but I’d like something more than a one-night stand. I’m human. I don’t like being alone, either.” He huffed a laugh. “Sex might be nice. You know, with someone besides myself.”
For the second time that night, the words left his mouth unbidden, and Gabe’s gut clenched. He dragged a hand through his hair. Christ. Eleven years might have passed, but apparently she still had it, that certain something he’d never been able to resist that had him telling her all his damn secrets.
A slow grin curled across Steph’s face, lightening the heavy emotion in her eyes. “There’s that painfully blunt guy I used to know.”
His cheeks blazed, but he couldn’t help his echoing grin. “What? I thought we were being honest.”
She laughed, so long and hard she sagged back against her seat. Gabe sat stunned, watching her. Her whole face lit up. The warmth radiating from her like the freakin’ sun drew him in like a bee to a bright yellow flower.
Steph’s giggling died away. She dropped her gaze to her plate, a soft pink flush suffusing her cheeks. “You’re staring.”
He jerked his gaze to his plate, pushing the food around. “Sorry. I forgot how beautiful you are when you laugh like that.”
He’d forgotten a lot of things about her. Like how much he enjoyed the simple act of sitting in the same room with her. For a few minutes she made him forget the lonely ache in his chest. Here, with her, he was simply a man out for a night with a beautiful woman. He didn’t know a lot of things these days. Like where this date ought to go, or even where he wanted it to go.
What he did know was he didn’t want to be sitting here, holed up in this crowded, noisy restaurant, when he could be doing a thousand other things with her.
Running with the thought, he set down his fork and met her gaze. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Steph blinked. Then she furrowed her brow and shook her head. “Where to?”
“Beats the hell out of me. I’m not even sure I care, but I have a sore need to get lost for a while.” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet, pulled out his debit card, and raised his hand, flagging down their waitress. When she smiled in acknowledgment, he turned back to Steph, holding his hand out, palm up, on the table. “Get lost with me.”
Chapter Three
Steph stared at Gabe’s outstretched hand, at the hopeful expression on his face and the light in those gorgeous hazel eyes. She had a feeling if she let herself, she’d follow him anywhere for the chance to relive—even temporarily—what they used to share.
The problem was, nothing with Gabe would ever be simple or uncomplicated. Even if she decided to stray from her plan to find a more lasting relationship, he was a widower, his heart still under lock and key, and she’d loved him once. Eleven years ago, their friendship had ended abruptly, leaving her to pick up the pieces of a broken heart. Oh, she’d understood why. His parents’ deaths had forced him into a situation he couldn’t possibly have prepared for. And clearly he’d gotten married, created a life for himself.
But the way he’d left had hurt all the same. Did she really want to travel this road with him again?
Gabe wiggled his fingers at her, amusement glinting in his eyes. The need to connect with him rose like an ancient ship from the depths of the ocean. She damn well knew she’d kill to spend time with him again.
“All right.” She drew up straight and met his gaze. “So long as we get a few things straight first.”
He studied her for a moment, gaze working her face, then folded his hands together on the table. “Go on.”
Steph knotted her fingers. It was time to pull out the rules. She’d hoped she wouldn’t need them for this date, wanting something more permanent. But with Gabe she needed all the armor she could muster. As a lawyer, she knew the importance of setting clear ground rules for even the most carefree adventure.
“Wherever this leads, it’s temporary. I won’t spend longer than a weekend with you. I don’t want to get to know your daughter, either.” She never did, because getting to know a man’s family created messy things like emotions. But with Gabe it was a flat-out lie. She ached to see the girl, to know what she looked like. Did she look like him or her mother? “And I want nights. All night. I decided something when I signed up for this service. I won’t be somebody’s warm body anymore. I realize that’ll be hard for you, given that you’re a single father, but I just can’t handle waking up alone anymore.”
Gabe stared in silence. For so long, doubt began to creep over her. Had she been too demanding? Did she come off as the control freak she suddenly felt like?
Steph’s cheeks flamed as the realization slid over, and she closed her eyes. God, she did sound like a control freak.
She swallowed her nerves and opened her eyes, ready to spew a thousand apologies, when Gabe’s brow furrowed and his jaw tightened.
“I don’t know who hurt you, but I’d re
ally like to deck him.” He reached across the table, capturing her hand. His thumb swept hers, and he held her gaze, voice softening. “Relax, Steph. I was thinking more along the lines of dessert, that maybe we’d wander the city together a bit.”
She set her elbow on the table and dropped her forehead into her free hand. “I’m sorry. That was so off the wall. You struck a nerve, and I panicked.”
“Well, now we’re even.” He chuckled and turned her hand over, sweeping her knuckles with his thumb. “Who was he?”
She sighed. “His name was Alec. He was a partner at the law firm I worked at. Three years together, and he finally asked me to marry him.” The memory rose over her, her humiliation flooding right behind it. “The day of, I was at the church, dressed and waiting, when he texted to tell me he wasn’t coming. He sent me a freakin’ text—can you believe it?”
The waitress arrived with their check then, and Gabe turned away briefly to hand her his card. “He was an ass, and he did you a favor.”
Steph swirled her teacup on the table. “Agreed, but obviously it’s left a mark.”
Gabe blinked solemnly at her. “Not all of us are like that, you know.”
She wasn’t sure she agreed but bit her tongue. Those kinds of men were all she’d found. Sadly, including him. In fact, he’d been the first one to show her how easily men could leave her. And if she’d learned her lesson the first time, she never would have been humiliated by Alec. Though, really, she had only herself to blame for never telling Gabe she loved him. If only she’d dug up the nerve back then to share her feelings, would things have turned out differently between them?
Their waitress returned with the receipt. Gabe slid from his chair and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go find dessert.”
She set her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. They left the restaurant, walking in silence for a while down the busy Seattle street. People were still out in droves, enjoying the unusually nice weather. The more they walked, the more the tension from earlier dissipated. The ease she’d always felt with him followed them. Even after all this time apart, there was no need for forced conversation. A smile or glance said it all.
