Moonlight Seduction: A de Vincent Novel (de Vincent series)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Hands tightening on the steering wheel, he glanced over at her again when the traffic slowed on the highway. “You okay, Nic?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Hey.” He reached over, touching her arm lightly. She jumped, and he frowned. “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah. Yes. Sorry.” She looked over at him. The overhead street lamp glanced off her shadowed face. “Just lost in my head. So, you going to tell me about this surprise?”

  “If I did, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He took the exit to the Business District.

  Gabe wasn’t even sure why he was doing this. It was just something that had stuck in his head ever since spaghetti night.

  She shot him a look as she fiddled with the edge of her braid. A moment passed and then she asked, “Do you really think Devlin is going to marry Sabrina?”

  “That’s a random question,” he said with a laugh.

  “I know.” She dropped her hands to her lap. “It’s just that they barely talk to one another. Sabrina paid more attention to you at dinner than she did Devlin.”

  His lip curled with disgust. “Yeah, well, Sabrina wants what she can’t have.”

  “You?”

  “I met her in college, after Dev graduated. She was interested.” He turned down Iberville. “I wasn’t. Still not.”

  “Did something happen between you guys?”

  “No,” he said, speaking the truth. “She tried a time or two back in college, but nothing ever happened.”

  Lucian always believed otherwise, but his brother was wrong. Other than being somewhat kind to Sabrina in the beginning, Gabe did nothing to encourage her.

  “I don’t like her,” Nic said with a sigh.

  “Yeah.” He remembered how Sabrina had talked to her during the first dinner. He hadn’t helped matters. “Sorry about how I acted that one dinner. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”

  Nic waved it off, but he knew what he’d done had bothered her. “We’re going to your workshop, aren’t we?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?” Interest filled her voice.

  “You’ll see.”

  She sighed heavily. “Sabrina brought up Baton Rouge during dinner. Seems like you go there a lot.”

  He nodded as he cut down a narrow alley. “I have been.”

  Gabe could feel her gaze on him. “So what are you doing up there?”

  “I’ve been looking for a place,” he answered, which was true.

  “You’re moving there?” She sounded surprised.

  “Part-time. That’s the plan.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t answer, because he wasn’t sure how he could without feeling like shit and having her think the worst of him. Because once she learned the truth, she would wonder what everyone would, which was how in the fuck was he here and not there.

  It was a question he kept asking himself.

  “Are you . . . seeing someone there?” she asked, her voice quiet.

  His head shot in her direction as he parked the Porsche. She wasn’t looking at him, but she was messing with her braid again. “No, I’m not seeing someone there.”

  “Oh.”

  He reached over, gently wrapping his fingers around her wrist. Her gaze flew to his as he pulled her hand away from her hair. “I just have some stuff going on there, okay?”

  Her brows knitted together. “Okay.”

  Exhaling heavily, he let go of her wrist, refusing to acknowledge just how soft her damn skin was. “You ready?”

  “For the surprise?” She smiled. “I think so.”

  Laughing under his breath, he unhooked his seatbelt. “Hold on.”

  Gabe climbed out and jogged around the front of the car, going to her side. He opened the door for her. Closing it behind her, he led her in through the back entrance of his workshop.

  A blast of cold air and the scent of raw wood greeted them as he opened the door. He flipped the overhead light on. The lights whirled to life, casting the shop out of darkness.

  Nic brushed past him, and the slight touch of her hip against his was like a punch to the gut. There was no ignoring the visceral reaction to her. His dick immediately roared to life, a sure sign he needed to get laid, because handling it himself wasn’t working.

  She was a beautiful woman. That was all it was. And she was forbidden, a big no-no, which made her even more . . . there, right in front of him.

  That’s what he kept telling himself as she stepped out of the hall and into the open space. “Wow.” She scanned the various projects he had going. “This place is bigger than I imagined.”

  Nic moved further into the shop and knelt down, tracing the scrollwork on the leg of a chair. “This is beautiful, Gabe.” She looked up at him through thick lashes. “Really.”

  He was oddly jealous of that chair leg.

  “I always thought it was strange.” She stroked her hand across the carved wood.

  “What?” He watched her tilt her head to the side.

  “Lucian paints. Madeline was also a painter. You can turn a couple of sheets of plywood and lumber into something stunning.” She rose fluidly, with the grace of a lithe dancer. “But Devlin, he doesn’t have a talent.”

  “Does pissing people off count as a talent? Because if so, he fucking excels at it.”

  Her laugh was soft, but hell, it rolled and licked over his skin. “True.”

  “Dev does have a hidden talent,” he said, unable to drag his gaze off her as she moved over to a workbench. She touched each tool left out with just one finger and then two, and he swore to God, his dick got harder.

  How fucked-up was that?

  He really needed to go out, find someone to screw his brains out, because the raw lust pounding through his veins needed an outlet.

  And that outlet wasn’t Nic.

  No matter how tempting she was.

  “What’s his talent?” she asked, picking up a small chisel.

  “He can sing.” He eased past her, running a hand over a table he’d been working on earlier in the day.

  “What?” She laughed. “Are you for real?”

  He nodded as he stopped on the other side of her. One would think talking about his brother would do something about the hard-on he was rocking at the moment, but apparently not. “Would I lie about something like that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe?”

  “Well, I’m not. The man can sing. But you’d have to get him drunk before that happens.” He was done talking about his brother. “Come on. Your surprise is through that door over there.”

  Her gaze drifted over his shoulder. “I really have no idea what this surprise is.”

  Because he was into self-torture, he took her hand, somewhat awed by how small it felt in his.

  He was being a dumbass.

  Folding his fingers around hers, he avoided her gaze as he pulled her across the main floor. “So, I thought that since you haven’t decided what to do about school or work, you had some extra time on your hands.”

  He stopped in front of the door and turned the handle with his free hand. “And I know you said you weren’t into the same things you were back then, but I think you just might be.”

  Pushing open the door, he reached inside and flipped on the light. He tugged on her hand, letting her squeeze past him.

  The contact of her smaller body brushing against his fried his senses, but he ignored that as he focused on her face.

  And saw the exact moment she understood what she was looking at.

  Those pink lips parted on a soft inhale as those big eyes got even bigger. “Gabe . . .”

  She twisted toward him, and he smiled at her. “I’ve been keeping the spare pieces of wood over the years, just tossing them in here. Not even sure why.” He frowned, not really wanting to look too closely at the reason for doing so. “Anyway, I asked Richard if you still had a woodcarving kit. He said he didn’t think so.”

  He’d cleaned up the room over the weekend and put a little
desk in there, one that he’d made himself but never sold. It had the same vine work as the trim at home. On the desk was a black, smooth box sitting next to a lamp he’d dug out of storage.

  “I ordered a new kit,” he continued. “And all that wood in the corner is yours if you want it. Actually, this room is yours if you want to use it since I doubt your parents want dust and shavings all over their house again.”

  “Are you . . . are you serious?” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” He took a breath. “You’re free to use it whenever. Got an extra key and everything.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Blinking rapidly, she turned back to the room. Nic squeezed his hand, and that’s when he realized he was still holding her damn hand.

  He let go and folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I’m hoping you’ll say you love it and you’ll make use of it.”

  Nic tucked her hands under her chin as her shoulders rose with a deep breath. She stepped into the room and then reached out, touching the kit. A second later she opened it, and then did what she’d done out in the main area. She ran her fingers along the tools.

  His damn dick jumped.

  “This had to cost a fortune,” she said, her voice filled with wonder. “This isn’t a cheap set.”

  He grumbled a nonresponse.

  “I love it,” she said, and then she spun on him. “And I’ll make use of it.”

  Then the strangest damn thing occurred in that moment. He’d wondered if he made a mistake.

  Gabe’s gaze dropped to her mouth.

  A second later, she threw herself at him, like she’d done the night she’d learned about his father, like she’d done a hundred times before things went to shit.

  He caught her, taking her weight as she threw her arms around him. He hugged her back, praying that she didn’t feel his cock, because shit, that would complicate things.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice muffled and oddly hoarse. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

  Gabe kind of thought he did as he dropped his chin and caught the scent of her shampoo. Strawberries. Her and her damn strawberries.

  Briefly, he closed his eyes and then he pulled back, letting his hands slip to her arms. Then he held her back. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I love it,” she corrected.

  Yeah, he liked hearing that. Liked it too much. And yeah, he was thinking that he made a mistake and he had no idea how badly he was going to regret it later on, but he knew he wouldn’t have changed a damn thing.

  Chapter 15

  “He did what?” Rosie whisper-yelled.

  Nikki nodded as she picked at her beignet. It was late Saturday morning and she was with Rosie at the Café du Monde, scarfing down the powdery pieces of perfection. The fact they’d been able to grab a table surprised both of them since the temps had cooled a little.

  She’d just filled her friend in on Gabe’s surprise. “Yep. And he even had brand-new saws—a hacksaw and coping saw. I mean, he set me up in my own little shop basically.”

  “That’s insane.” Rosie took a bite of a beignet, managing to not get any of the sugar on her, which meant she had to have sold her soul to the devil. “I mean, I didn’t even know you could do that stuff with wood. Why did you never tell me?”

  Nikki lifted a shoulder. “I just . . . I think if I talked about it, it would make me want to get back to it, and honestly I didn’t have time in school and it . . .”

  “It reminded you of Gabe?”

  “Yeah,” she sighed. “Anyway, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

  Rosie picked up her bottle of water. “Are you going to make use of it—of the tools and the shop?”

  There was a flutter deep in her chest. Like a nest of butterflies were waking up. “I think so. I mean, he went to all that trouble.”

  Oversized sunglasses shielded her eyes, so it was hard to tell what Rosie was thinking. “Are you going to make use of his wood?”

  “Of course. He saved—wait.” Nikki picked up her napkin and threw it at her smirking friend. “It isn’t like that.”

  “It’s not?”

  Now those butterflies were trying to eat their way out, because she thought of the hug and the way she was sure he’d been staring at her mouth. She shifted in her chair, crossing her legs. “Shut up.”

  “Seriously, though? He had a room full of spare wood?” She leaned forward, tipping her nose down. “And he didn’t know why he was saving the wood?”

  “That’s what he said.” The butterflies had moved to her stomach.

  “You know what I think?” She straightened. “I’m going to tell you. I think he was keeping the spare wood for you.”

  The mere idea of Gabe doing that over the years shook her. If it was the case, she didn’t know what to think about that.

  She couldn’t think about that.

  Because her heart was already swelling to the point it might burst, and that was not a good sign.

  Rosie must’ve sensed it, because she said, “You just need to be careful, Nikki.”

  “I’m not reading into it.”

  “No, I think you do need to read into it.”

  She frowned. “I’m not really following you.”

  “Look, what he did for you is not something someone who spent the last four years possibly hating you would do.”

  “Wow.” She picked up her coffee. “When you put it that way.”

  “What he did was a big deal. He had to know that, even if he doesn’t know why you stopped the whole woodworking thing.” Plucking up a napkin, she wiped at her fingers. “So, I think you need to read between the lines.”

  Nikki took a breath that went nowhere. “I can’t let myself do that.”

  “I’m saying you need to be careful. He is a grown-ass man who is very experienced and you, on the other hand, are not very experienced.”

  “Thanks,” she muttered.

  “And you guys have this messy past between you. It’s going to be tricky.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, what you’re suggesting—that he could have some kind of motive beyond being friends with me—just seems insane when you said it yourself; he spent four years hating me.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe he spent four years hating himself more?” A hot-pink bangle slipped down her arm as she plopped her elbow on the table. “That maybe he wanted you back then and he hated himself for it?”

  Nikki opened her mouth.

  “You know I have a degree in psychology, right?” Rosie tapped a purple-painted fingernail on her temple. “I know these things.”

  Could Gabe have hated himself more? That was more than likely, but not for the reasons Rosie was suggesting. “I think he wanted me when it was happening, because he was drunk at the time.”

  Rosie shook her head, sending curls bouncing in every direction. “All I’m saying is that I think you need to proceed with caution.”

  “I’m not proceeding with anything.” She picked up what was left of her beignet. “We’re friends and I think what he did was like a . . . token of our friendship. A true white flag.”

  “Well, I’m happy to hear that, because I have something for you.”

  With Rosie, her surprise could be anything from a Ouija board to a voodoo doll. A used voodoo doll.

  “I have someone I want you to meet.”

  “Rosie—”

  “He’s single. He’s got a job. Doesn’t live in a haunted house, which is a negative for me, but whatever. Not everyone can be perfect. But you don’t work for his family. He’s good looking aaand you didn’t sleep with him when you were eighteen.”

  “There are a lot of people I didn’t sleep with when I was eighteen,” Nikki replied with a wry sigh.

  “Yep.” She smiled widely. “And here’s the best part. He actually asked me about you.”

  She started to frown. “What?”

  “He saw us together at Cure, actually, and thought you were ju
st the hottest thing since Hot Pockets.”

  “Um . . .”

  “I don’t know why he didn’t come over and say hi. I think he got nervous or something. And you know what else I think? I think you should go out on a date with him.”

  She opened her mouth to say no, absolutely not.

  Rosie beat her to it. “If you really are ready to move on with your life, the first thing to do is to get out there and meet someone who isn’t Gabe.”

  Nikki thought there were a whole lot of things that she could do other than going out with some random guy. “I did have dates in college—”

  “Barely.”

  “And I had a boyfriend—”

  “We know how that turned out,” Rosie quipped.

  Nikki’s eyes narrowed, but seriously? Why was she being so resistant to a date? She’d even decided that it was time for her to get out there and go on dates. Nothing was holding her back. “You know what? Yes. I will go out on a date.”

  Excitement filled her brown eyes that were more hazel in the light. “Really?”

  Nikki nodded. “Set it up.”

  Above their heads, something crashed into a wall—something fragile by the sound of it. Probably something expensive, too.

  Gabe’s gaze lifted to the ceiling. “That sounded like a glass.”

  “Or a vase,” Lucian commented.

  “I hope it wasn’t a window.” Julia lowered her pool stick.

  Gabe smirked. “Sabrina knows better than that.”

  For the last thirty minutes or so, Sabrina had been up in Dev’s office and every so often, they heard Sabrina’s shrill voice. They couldn’t tell what they were arguing about, but they had their guesses.

  This wasn’t anything new.

  Most likely she was pressuring Dev about setting a date and each time she did, it ended with her throwing something when Dev refused to cave.

  Walking around the pool table, Lucian came to Julia’s side. “Why don’t you head upstairs and pick out a movie for us to watch?” He hooked his arm around Julia’s shoulders, tugging her into his side. “I’ll be up in a little bit.”

  Julia arched a brow, but stretched up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “Damn straight.” He smacked her ass as she pulled away, earning him a narrowed glare. “That’s me warming up.”