by Jacie Floyd
“Good ones.” Sierra smirked. “I’ve never heard those before.”
“Yeah, they were a little weak, but my name’s a sore spot and I’m playing defense here. I’m much better on the offense.” He grinned, and Gabe liked him a little bit better, just knowing he didn’t take himself as seriously as it had seemed.
“I apologize for the cheap shot, too,” Sierra agreed. “I get cranky when my dinner gets dumped on the floor. But I shouldn’t take it out on you just because I ran into your uncle.”
“I’ll forgive you if you tell me your last name.”
Sierra stuck her chin out and rubbed her temples, sending her bracelets jangling. “I’m not ready to say. For some reason that isn’t clear to me just yet, I’d rather not tell you.”
“Sierra—” Gabe stepped forward, afraid she was getting ready to go into her gypsy fortune-teller mode, warning Roland about signs and symbols and portents of things to come.
But Roland just smiled.
Sierra’s long lashes swept downward until she could just peek at him from beneath them, and Gabe watched as something even he recognized as a ‘moment’ passed between them.
“Roland!” Old Man Quigley roared from the door. “Get a move on. I don’t have all day.”
Roland winked at Sierra. “I’ll be back,” he said, and disappeared out the door.
Sierra and Gabe stared at each other for a moment then burst out laughing. “Wow,” she said, “I’m never going to physical therapy again. I’m late getting here one afternoon and look what happens. I’m involved in a collision at the door. We get a new receptionist—” she threw Molly a curious look “—and the big fish comes to visit. What were Quigley Major and Quigley Minor doing here anyway?”
“Quigley was here to throw his weight around, and Quigley Minor’s only purpose seemed to be flirting with you.”
“He wasn’t flirting with me!” Sierra covered her cheeks with her hands.
“He was, too, and you were flirting back.” Gabe moved to lock the door to the hall.
“Yes, he was.” Molly fanned her face. “When Mr. Quigley tried to push Roland toward me, he was nothing more than mildly interested. But as soon as you got here, wow, things really heated up.”
“Are you Molly, by any chance? I’m Sierra.”
“So I heard.” With her performance as ersatz receptionist over, Molly came from behind the desk and rested her butt against the front edge. “Nice to meet you. Since you’re Gabe’s sister, does that make you Chloe’s mom? She’s adorable.”
“Thanks.” Sierra glowed at the complimentary mention of her child. “I think so, too.”
The two women sized one another up and smiled. Gabe saw the light of acceptance pass between two kindred spirits and shuddered. The last thing he needed was for these two to discover their common interests.
“Anyone who likes my kid and my brother is a friend of mine. Let’s go find Chloe and see about alternate plans for dinner.” She turned the wheelchair toward the computer room. “We can send Dom out for more.”
“Can you stay?” Gabe asked Molly, certain she’d refuse. Kind of hoping she would. He didn’t want her to leave, but a little exposure to his family went a long way. He wasn’t sure how much more of them she could take in one sitting.
“Sure,” Molly agreed. “For a few minutes.”
Surprised and pleased, he took her hand and followed Sierra’s path to the small breakroom in the back. Chloe, Dom, and Granddad were playing Go Fish at the table. Wow, Granddad had been right about the color of the kid’s hair. Day-Glo green. Sort of provided his anti-social angst with space alien overtones.
“Mom!” Chloe shrieked and launched herself into her mother’s lap. “When’d you get here?”
“Hello, love.” Granddad spared a glance from his cards. “How was your session?”
“Just got here.” Sierra shared hugs with Chloe and grins with Granddad. “The session was fine. Boring. Tiring. Nothing like the fun that’s been going on around here today.”
“Huh.” Molly eyed them all like they were circus freaks, but she looked a little wistful. “If the last hour is what you people call ‘fun’, then I’m glad I don’t live your lives.”
“It does get hairy sometimes,” Gabe said, “but today you pitched in and saved the day. I owe you, big-time.” He squeezed her arm, realizing he’d been making excuses to touch her every chance he could. He inhaled deeply. Yep, Dreamsicles.
“I still don’t understand everything that happened, but I’m happy I could help. Did the meeting go well?”
“Great. Thank God, we stayed last night and salvaged what we did,” he said to Sierra, and then to Molly. “The whole Quigley project crashed. That’s why I had to leave you and come back to work.”
“It’s almost like he had a premonition,” Sierra said.
“Don’t start,” Gabe said, pointing a finger at her before turning to Molly. “Do you want to join us for dinner? The Goth-kid over there is my cousin Dom, and it looks like he’s going out to pick up more Italian.”
Gabe knew Dom’s appearance served to cover his acute case of shyness, more than it laid a claim to true rebellion. The boy ducked his head at being singled out, but stood up, ready to run the errand.
“I’m sick of Italian. Can we have Skyline instead?” Dom asked. “Could you see if they want to trade any programming work with us for free food?”
“Call them tomorrow and make the offer,” Gabe suggested. “Meanwhile, what’s everyone want from Mama Leone’s?”
“Ravioli!” Chloe demanded.
“Lasagna, for me,” Granddad said.
“Fettuccini for two?” Gabe asked Molly.
“Sounds great, but I need to get going.” She checked her watch. “I just have time to make it if I leave now.” She stepped forward. “It was great meeting all of you.”
Wonder of all wonders, it sounded to Gabe like she meant it. He couldn’t believe she’d interacted with five of his relatives in one day and hadn’t run screaming for the hills. She seemed to really regret not being able to stay and eat neighborhood Italian with them.
“Do you have to go?” Sierra asked, reading Gabe’s mind.
“You can play Go Fish with us if you stay,” Chloe offered.
“Yeah,” Gabe mimicked. “Do you have to go?”
“Afraid so. My third-graders are singing in a program tonight, and I have to be there to keep them in line.” She moved toward Gabe’s office, where she’d left her stuff earlier. She stopped at the doorway. “We’ll play Go Fish next time I’m here.”
“Don’t forget,” Chloe said.
“I won’t.” Molly turned to Granddad and Sierra. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Gabe scowled when his relatives started woo-hooing and making smooching noises. “Will you stop? I’ll be right back.”
In his office, he waited, watching her complete her Molly-mannerisms. She fluffed her hair, picked up her tote and Bella’s scrapbook, adjusted her charm bracelet just so, blinked her eyes, and licked her lips. Oh, yeah. He took the tote and scrapbook from her.
“I’m sorry we didn’t finish talking about Bella and the Sleeping Lotus.”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “There’s always tomorrow. Or the day after.”
“Is there?” God, he hoped so, and not just because of the Sleeping Lotus either, although that was reason enough. “This place is a zoo. I don’t know what I was thinking when I asked you to come here, but thank God I did. I owe you for today, and there was something about a wager for dinner and a movie the other day, wasn’t there? What do you say I pay up on that Friday night?” He was doing it again, guiding her to the parking lot just to have a reason to touch her. He held his breath, waiting for her answer.
She stopped beside her car. It gleamed bright and shiny in the late afternoon light. A gentle breeze lifted a strand of her hair and feathered it across her cheek. She pushed it back and tilted her head, looking at him. “Friday works. Di
nner and a movie?”
Relief gushed through him like a tidal wave. “Great! Great. Friday, then.”
“Where and when?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” As much as he wanted this, he’d asked on impulse, not planned it down to every last detail, the way he preferred to operate. He wanted to take her someplace that would knock her socks off, but he couldn’t think where that would be on his limited funds. The free meals from Mama Leone’s were about all he could afford, and he’d traded computer programming to her for those.
He tried to come to some kind of decision, but found he couldn’t think at all with Molly looking up at him with eyes that turned his brains to mush. “I’ll call you tomorrow with the details, okay?”
She nodded. And smiled. And gave him a look that wove around him, pulled him in, and held him in a place that seemed too good to leave. “Okay.”
After she unlocked her car, he put her stuff on the front passenger seat. Then he took her hands in his and thought about kissing her the way he wanted to kiss her, the way they’d kissed at the television show. Long, hot, tingling. All encompassing. All consuming. Anticipating the sensation, his gaze caressed her mouth. Her lips turned into a little pout, and he wondered if that was a complaint or an invitation. He thought about licking them. Oh, yeah, he should do it. He should take matters—
Molly went up on tiptoe and kissed him.
Chapter Nine
Molly kissed him!
And like a big dumbass, Gabe had been standing there thinking it over, weighing his options, and waiting for the right moment.
Molly pulled back and quirked an eyebrow, gauging his reaction.
Having her take the initiative was a definite turn-on. His approval must have been plastered across his face, because she put her arms around him and came back for more.
She’d initiated the intimacy, sure, but he was never one to refuse an opportunity. It seemed imperative for him to keep up his side, even take control.
If felt so natural to pull her close, lean her against the hood of the car, and sweep his tongue inside her mouth. Like coming home. Like taking up where they’d left off in that studio. But the car added an extra dimension. Warm from the afternoon sun, hard, and smooth where Molly was soft and silky.
He wrapped himself around her and laid her back. She gasped and stretched out beneath him, spreading her legs, giving him space to settle between them. Close, but not close enough, due to her full skirt, and whatever other layers she had on underneath.
Her mouth moved under his, eager and warm. He delved deeper. Her tongue rubbed against his, stroking across his teeth, against the sensitive inside of his lip, tickling the roof of his mouth. Delicious.
With her feet dangling above ground, he slid her up the polished metal. She clutched his back with such strength, such desperation, that her fingerprints would be imprinted there later. His hands grazed her sides, drifting tantalizingly close to the fullness of her breasts. He ached with the need to fill his palms with them. Hell, not just that. He ached to pull up her shirt, ease her bra aside, and lick her beaded nipples.
As his brain melted and conscious thought blurred from the pleasure of her body under his, tires crunched their way across the parking lot. Gabe jerked upward, dragging Molly with him. Their lips parted with reluctance. He was grateful for the interruption that had prevented him from taking Molly in such a public and uninhibited way. But God, he’d wanted to.
Pulling himself together, he supported her until her feet returned to the ground. Their arms remained entwined around one another. They both gasped for breath.
“Now that looks mighty interesting.” Uncle Harold slammed the door of his vintage Thunderbird before heading inside. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
“Too late.” Gabe grinned ruefully at Molly, her cheeks flushed from being spread out on the hood of her car like Thanksgiving dinner. But dinner was apparently over and all her goodies tucked away, saved for another meal.
“See you Friday.” Ducking her head, she slipped out of his arms and into the car.
“I’ll call you.” He couldn’t erase the grin on his face. Friday hadn’t looked so good to Gabe in a long time.
Waiting for his hard-on to subside, he watched as she pulled out of the parking lot. Still a little dazed from the heat of their embrace, he returned to the building. How on earth could he woo Molly into handing over the Sleeping Lotus without hurting her or getting hurt in return? And where was he going to get the money to fund the wooing?
The Sleeping Lotus was the end goal, not getting Molly Webber into bed. But if he could accomplish both at the same time, all the better.
Not ready for the company of others, he returned to his office instead of the breakroom. He pulled up outside his door and watched Uncle Harold rattle a drawer on his desk.
“Need something?” Gabe leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and crossed his arms.
Balls of steel. That was Harold. He didn’t even flinch. Owner of the calm self-possession and good looks that ran through the family, his latest gambling binge had obviously left him a little frayed around the edges.
Wearing rumpled clothes, his uncle’s five-o’clock shadow attested to a shaveless day. A feverish look haunted his eyes. The kind of look that said he was up to something. Something not quite kosher. Something not quite legit. The kind of something the Shaws had flirted with for generations.
And Gabe had a sinking feeling that the something was going to end up costing him and the company more than they could afford.
Harold’s look of bravado eerily reminded Gabe of his father.
On the surface, they were bigger, taller, slicker versions of Granddad. But that resemblance only went skin deep. They’d both taken the same advanced courses in Responsibility Avoidance. The charm of those lessons had paled on Gabe a long time ago.
“The petty cash drawer is jammed.” Harold pulled it again.
“Or locked.” Gabe pushed away from the door and crossed to his desk. He was bone-tired from his all-nighter and dealing with Quigley this afternoon, but his encounter with Molly had left him jazzed.
With a resigned sigh, Harold stepped away from the desk and took a seat opposite Gabe for the standard lecture. But Gabe was in no mood to be anybody’s conscience today, and he was tired of making allowances for his uncle’s flaws. No more.
“I guess you noticed I took the petty cash yesterday,” Harold began when Gabe said nothing.
Gabe picked up the vintage Gameboy from the corner of the desk. The Tetris cartridge was in place and he flipped on the device. It wasn’t the most exciting game, but Gabe loved Tetris. All the little pieces fell into the correct pattern if you managed to manipulate them in the right way. “You back for more?”
“No! Just the opposite.” Harold smiled his best trust-me smile. “This isn’t the way it looks. I wanted to tell you about it. I met a guy last night who offered—”
Gabe held up his hand to halt his uncle mid-speech. He focused on aligning a long-boy on the screen and didn’t put any stock in Harold’s announcement. He’d heard it all before. He held up his hand to stop him mid-speech. “Don’t tell me.”
“No, really.” Uncle Harold thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. “Look, I won. I came to replace what I took, and then some. I know I owe you, and I intend to pay you back. All of it. Here’s a down payment.” He handed the money over.
Pausing his game, Gabe set it aside. He counted the cash, then counted it again. This was enough to impact his immediate plans. Not his long-range retire-to-a-tropical-island-plans, no. But his short-term dinner-with-Molly plans? Definitely. “Two thousand bucks?”
“Yep, a winning streak at craps.” His face lit up, erasing ten years from his age. “You should’ve been there. It was like I couldn’t lose. Everything I rolled came up a winner.”
“Lucky.” Gabe put the money in his pocket and rubbed his forehead. They needed the money, that was for sure, but h
e couldn’t encourage his uncle’s gambling addiction. “Just because it worked out this time, doesn’t make it right, you know. Gambling’s never a sure thing.”
Now it was Harold’s turn to hold up his hands, warding off the rest of the lecture. “I know, Gabe, and I won’t do it again. I promise.”
Gabe shook his head and picked up the Gameboy. Harold’s sincerity sounded good now, while he was fresh off a win. But in a day or two, or a week or two, he’d be off to test his luck again. “I can’t have you continually screwing up.”
Harold drew himself up, insulted by the comment. “Borrowing fifty bucks and bringing back two thousand isn’t screwing up.” His eyes flashed eagerly. “And Dad told me about the Chinese statuary. That’s some piece of luck, huh? I’ll bet there are a lot of collector’s who’d be interested in paying big bucks for something like that.” He rubbed his palms together greedily. “Where is it? Is it here? I know a guy who could help you unload it.”
Gabe sat up straighter and paused the game again. He turned his most stern frown on his uncle. The thought of Harold trying to get his hands on the Lotus gave him chills. “You are to have nothing to do with the Lotus.”
Harold gaped at Gabe, then dropped his poker face back into place. “Why not? If it belongs to Dad, it’s more mine than yours.”
Restarting the game, Gabe maneuvered a square block into the perfect spot. “But you’d just lose it in one afternoon at the track or the casino. I’ll use it to keep the rest of us in business for another year.”
“You’re not the only hero in the family, you know.”
“I’ve never claimed to be a hero, but sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one with a lick of sense.” His fingers moved through the game automatically. Just three more rows and he’d break his all-time record score.
“Because you like it that way?”
The comment struck Gabe between the eyes. Is that what Harold really thought? What they all thought? That Gabe wanted them all to be a bunch of screw-ups? That he liked being the one who called the shots? Surely they knew better than that. He looked back at the small screen in time to see the rows fill up and run over the top. Damn, game over. No high score. No new record. No tidy little conclusion. He tossed the device aside in disgust.
