by Lily Danes
Some things could be forgotten, but not six years. Never that.
“About earlier…” Maddie’s tentative voice brought him back to the present.
He knew what she was about to say. That they’d gotten carried away. That he wasn’t what she was looking for. That they had no future.
Gabe didn’t want to hear any of it, so he interrupted. “Let’s have a look at that file, then. The one about me.”
She nodded, and he tried to read her expression. Was it disappointment? Relief?
After she returned the watering can to the other room, Maddie joined him on the couch, the manila folder in her lap. She opened it with caution, as if afraid it would bite her.
The first several pages were official documents. He’d seen them all at one time or another, usually from his lawyer. His arrest record, both as a juvenile and when he was caught with the guns. Then there were the court transcripts, though it had been a straightforward procedure. No courtroom intrigue when you plead guilty. Psychological files confirming he’d demonstrated good behavior and shown remorse. Maddie gave a quiet laugh when she saw that one. There were records of the items he’d carried into prison and the ones he’d carried out. Whoever compiled this file had access to a hell of a lot of information.
“You were wearing the same clothes when you first arrived in town,” she murmured, her finger tracing the itemized list. “You came straight here.”
Gabe glanced down at his new pair of jeans and his top. They were nothing fancy, but he was glad to have them. They beat orange jumpsuits. “Yeah. At least I got arrested in winter. It would have sucked to be released in shorts and a tank top.”
“Is that why your clothes didn’t fit when I met you?”
“I gained some muscle in prison,” he said. “Exercising was one of the few things that felt normal. The cafeteria had awful food, and the library had whatever books were donated, and the cots were tiny, but a dumbbell is a dumbbell the world over.”
Maddie read the list again, but there were no other surprises on it.
She turned the last official document and froze. He glanced over her shoulder and wasn’t sure whether to be angry at the person who gathered so much personal information or amused at Maddie’s reaction.
It was a picture of him when he was nineteen. He’d just gotten out of juvie, and back then Gabe thought he had the whole world figured out. He’d believed two years in juvie had made him a grade-A badass.
Gabe touched the photo, running his finger under his eyes. Eyes that hadn’t seen half as much as they thought they had.
Maddie mirrored his thoughts. “You’re so young. You almost have baby fat.”
“Hey!” Gabe protested, though she wasn’t wrong. There was a softness about his younger self. His cheekbones were less pronounced, and his muscles far less defined. It was almost like prison had carved him physically, the same way it molded his soul.
Maddie pointed at his younger self’s arms, revealed by the black t-shirt he wore. “No tattoos?”
Gabe shook his head. “No. I got them over the next couple of years, before I went inside. I wouldn’t trust some felon named Tiny to give me a prison tattoo. I knew a guy in Oakland who traded ink for labor. It was a good deal.”
“Do they have stories?”
He smiled. “They all do. What about you?” His eyes roved over her untouched skin. “Any tats hidden under those professional clothes you insist on wearing?”
She blushed, and he didn’t fight the image that barreled into his brain. The memory of what Maddie looked like under those professional clothes—and how much he had yet to explore.
Gabe shifted, leaning forward to hide his growing erection.
“You’ll have to look for yourself,” Maddie whispered.
Gabe’s breath caught. Had he read her wrong before? Maybe she’d been prepared to say About earlier…I think we should do it again.
Holding his breath, he dropped one hand on her knee, his fingers stroking her inner thigh.
She slapped it away.
“You have to earn it.” She opened a small drawer on the coffee table and held up a deck of cards. “You play?”
Gabe sat up straighter. “Of course.”
“One question…what happened to my underwear?”
A little sheepish, he pulled the flimsy lace out of his pocket. “I forgot I had them. I swear.”
Maddie took them and disappeared upstairs for a minute. When she returned, she was wearing a different blouse, one with all its buttons. This one was a pale gray. The strands of hair that had been loosened in the office were back in a tight bun. Gabe tried not to show his disappointment.
She sat beside him and lifted one brow, the expression both delicate and wicked. “I’ll make you a deal. Each hand you win, you get to ask me one question…or remove one article of my clothing.”
He went from semi to completely hard in the space of a second. No way he was hiding that. Maddie watched as he adjusted himself.
“And for each hand you win?” He didn’t expect her to win many, but he could always throw a few. He’d do whatever he needed to keep her playing.
“I get the same. And now that I have underwear again, we’re wearing an equal amount of clothing.”
“What brings this on?” He was an idiot. Why couldn’t he just enjoy the moment? Not everyone had an ulterior motive.
She shrugged. Her blouse moved with her. If he played his cards right—literally—he would see that shirt lying crumpled on the floor.
Maddie met his eyes, hiding nothing. “Because after everything that happened today, I need a distraction. And I have a lot of questions. I want to unravel the mystery of Gabriel Reyes.”
Gabe swallowed. She might be asking too much.
But any reservations he had were annihilated with her next sentence.
“Plus, we have some unfinished business from this afternoon.”
Chapter Seventeen
He watched as Maddie slid the deck from the case. Holding Gabe’s eyes the entire time, she executed a perfect waterfall card flourish, winked at Gabe, then added a card spring for good measure,
Gabe’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. This wasn’t some poker virgin he was facing. “You trying to hustle me?”
She dealt five cards as competently as a Vegas dealer. “Five-card stud, aces wild. Unless you want to back out?”
“Not a chance.” His cards weren’t anything to write home about, but they’d do.
Five-card stud was a straightforward game, with no bluffing or raises. Luck was as much a factor as skill, but she still played like she was at a high-stakes tournament.
“Two,” He dropped his rejected cards on the table. She replaced them, then took one card for herself. “Show them.” Gabe lay his flat, grinning. Two pairs, kings high.
Maddie had a full house.
He should be disappointed. If he’d won, that flimsy shirt would be coming off, one pearl button at a time. Instead, he felt a hint of excitement, even pleasure. It was an opportunity to find out what she wanted from him.
“What’s it going to be, Maddie? Truth or nudity?”
She took a second to consider. “What scares you?” Those blue-green eyes fixed on him, monitoring his reaction.
The question caught him off guard. “Scares?” He repeated, stalling.
When she didn’t reply, he leaned back. He supposed he could lie, but that went against the spirit of the game.
He answered in a level tone. “I’m scared I’ll never learn the truth, and that Hastings bastard will get away with it.”
She flinched. It was a tiny movement, but he saw it. Such a perfect poker face when she played, and so honest when they weren’t. “That’s not new information.”
“You asked.” He tried to leave it at that, but she waited, silently demanding more. “Fine. I don’t like the dark either. Never have, and prison made it worse.”
He knew she wanted to ask more, but at last she gave a simple nod and pushed the deck of
cards to him. Gabe shuffled, though without the same finesse she displayed, and dealt.
He grinned to see two aces in his hand. One exchange later, and he had three. It was enough to win.
Gabe’s eyes dropped to her pearl buttons. He wanted to know all of her body, not just what he’d seen in the office or at the party. He knew her shoulders, the tops of her breasts, the feel of her nipples through lace, but he didn’t know her stomach. Her waist. Her ribs. Every part mattered.
“Take out your hair pins.” He blinked at his own words. That wasn’t what he planned to say.
Maddie was just as surprised. She reached tentative fingers to the base of her neck, to that always neat and tidy bun, and removed one pin. When she saw his eyes burning, she slowed down, turning it into something closer to a strip tease. Gabe watched, captivated.
At last, every pin lay on the coffee table, and she released her hair.
It didn’t just fall down. Her hair cascaded, thick brown waves spilling over her shoulders. It was longer than he’d imagined, long enough to cover the tips of her breasts.
Gabe had always liked women. He’d liked their bodies, their faces, the way they moved. Never, in his entire life, had he been transfixed by a woman’s hair. He wanted to run his fingers through it. Wanted to see it spread across a pillow. Wanted to feel it on his chest while she rode him.
And with that thought, he was achingly hard again. This might be the most painful game he’d ever played.
“Your turn,” he rasped, sliding the deck back to her.
She won the next round, and she studied him for a very long time, deciding. “Tell me about one of your tattoos.”
Another question, but he’d known this was coming. He’d taken off both his coat and sweater when he entered the room, even though it wasn’t warm enough for just a t-shirt. It was almost like he wanted to share a story or two with Maddie.
Gabe studied his arm, trying to choose one. Several were geometric shapes with no other purpose than to connect the more meaningful ones, but a few mattered more than the rest. He pointed to the bars on his wrist. “This is the first one I got.”
Maddie peered closer, seeing the series of parallel lines, the last one broken in two.
“The lines symbolized bars, the last one represents my freedom. I thought it was pretty profound at the time. Now it seems stupid. There weren’t any bars in juvie. Those came later.”
The question was answered. They should go again, give him another chance at the shirt. Instead, he kept going. Gabe moved past the bands that circled his forearm, heading for the stylized heart on his bicep. “I got this two years after the first. A heart made of barbed wire. It was a reminder to keep my heart guarded, not let anyone too close. By then, I really wanted to go home, but I pretended I didn’t. Pretended I didn’t need my family.”
A soft finger traced the tattoo, drawing a heart on his arm. “Do you still keep your heart guarded?”
Gabe swallowed and moved on, pulling up his sleeve to reveal the compass on his shoulder. “And this is when I finally pulled my head out of my ass and realized how much I needed to go back. That my family is, and will always be, my true north.” He closed his eyes, fighting the tears that threatened. So many years to return to them. So many lost chances.
“If that’s true, why aren’t you with them now?”
“Revenge.” The word was automatic, spoken out of habit. “When I finally make it to Redding, I want to start over. I got my college degree in prison. I have more options than I ever did before, if I can convince the world I’m not a felon. I want to build a life, not just get by. Maybe I can even do some good in the world. Mateo’s up there, waiting for me.”
Wondering what the hell was taking his little brother so long, but Mateo wouldn’t push. He never pushed.
Maddie’s fingers touched the points of the compass. South, east, west, north. “Another chance is worth fighting for. We’ll get that proof for you. I promise.”
Gabe pulled her in, kissing her not because he wanted to, but because he needed to feel her lips. To have that connection with someone who believed in him. Who was willing to fight for him.
She withdrew and held up the deck of cards. Gabe had forgotten they were still playing.
By pure luck, he ended up with three aces in his hand. He dropped two of them in the reject pile and waited for her next question.
“Take off your shirt,” she told him.
Maddie had tried to resist. She only meant to ask questions as a way to discover just who this stranger was—and understand why he never really felt like a stranger.
But it was impossible. He leaned against her sofa, the outlines of his pecs and abs visible under the thin material of his t-shirt, and she kept flashing to how he looked draped in a towel, his perfectly chiseled chest on display. That memory had starred in too many of her thoughts, most of them while she lay in bed, too restless to sleep. And earlier, in the office, she barely had a chance to enjoy the view before his hands and lips and mouth distracted her.
Gabe grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off.
Time hadn’t done justice to the memory. If anything, he was more cut than she remembered. Her mouth grew dry.
He smiled, enjoying her reaction. “This is my favorite game in the world.” He dealt another hand.
She didn’t win. Gabe slid his eyes up her body, considering every item of clothing. His gaze lingered on her top, and her hands moved toward the buttons, excitement building. God, all the man had to do was look at her with those hot, dark eyes and she grew wet.
“Did you love him?”
She blinked. “Who?” He couldn’t mean Declan. They’d dated twice.
“Charlie.”
“You’re wasting a question,” Maddie pointed out. “You asked me that in the office.”
Gabe shook his head. “I asked if he was good to you. That doesn’t mean you loved him. So did you?”
A laugh escaped. The question was ridiculous. Whatever she’d felt for her ex-husband, it had crumbled to dust the day the cops showed up at her front door with a warrant.
“I married him,” she said.
“That’s no answer.” Gabe’s eyes remained fixed on her, demanding the truth.
What was the truth? Of course she loved Charlie. He was her first boyfriend, her first everything. Back then, he’d made her laugh. He cared for her when her mom passed.
And he’d made sure there was more beer in the fridge than food, and never took her on dates after they married, and never told her she could have more than a dead-end minimum-wage job.
Of course, there was also the whole drug dealer thing. That was a pretty big strike against him.
But people loved the wrong person all the time. Just because Charlie was a selfish, criminal asshole didn’t mean she hadn’t loved him.
“I don’t remember.” It sounded so foolish. She should remember if she loved her husband. But it was so long ago now, and so tainted by years of suffering. She could no longer recall feeling any love for him. “I mean, I did love him. I know I did. But I don’t remember feeling any of it now, if that makes sense.”
Gabe shuffled the cards, even though it was her turn. “It’s strange how that works, isn’t it? Emotions we took for granted just vanish, and it’s like they were never there at all.”
She won the next two hands, and she made him remove his shoes and socks. He was down to just his jeans and whatever he wore underneath them, like he’d been the first time he lay on her sofa.
Her mouth was dry as she dealt the next hand. She was already picturing his fingers freeing the button on his jeans, then sliding the zipper past that insistent bulge.
Instead, Gabe won, and he was silent for a long time, debating what to ask. “Your top.” His voice was hoarse.
Heat rose in Maddie’s chest, but she felt no reluctance. Her fingers on the buttons were steady. She popped open the first one, and the fabric gapped, revealing just a hint of cleavage. Two more buttons, and the ful
l swell of her breasts was visible.
Though he’d already seen this, his eyes were locked on her fingers, entranced, as one inch of skin after another was revealed.
At last, the top was unbuttoned. She pushed the silken fabric from her shoulders. It slid down her arms, landing in a puddle on the floor. She wore no bra underneath.
Maddie raised her eyes to his. He wasn’t just looking at her breasts. His gaze caressed every part that had been revealed.
He ran his eyes over her shoulders and upper arms, over her stomach. She felt like he was seeing her, not just her body.
His voice was little more than a rasp. “God, you have such pretty nipples.”
“Well, you have been away from women for a while.” She hated the words as soon as they left her mouth. She didn’t want to demean herself, to suggest he only wanted her because he’d been deprived so long. She knew it wasn’t true. He wasn’t looking at any half-dressed woman. He was looking at her, and she never wanted him to stop looking—and that terrified her.
“You were worth the wait.” He shuffled. “Once more.”
They both left their cards facedown for a second too long, knowing this hand would push them over a line they’d yet to cross.
Maddie had the makings of a flush. One more diamond, and she’d have it. She dropped the jack and kept the eight of spades.
Gabe won with a pair of threes.
He watched her from beneath hooded lids, letting the tension build. He wet his lips. “Where do you want me to kiss you?”
Her entire body lit up. There wasn’t a single part of her that wasn’t clamoring for his touch. “Everywhere.”
He chuckled. “I’ll get to that, trust me. But where do you want me to kiss you now?”
“My neck,” she whispered.
Gabe moved closer and dropped his lips to her collarbone, then slid them along the column of her neck, trailing hot kisses.
“And now?” His tongue darted out, licking the salt from her skin.
The part that had been cheated earlier, that only felt his lips and tongue through interfering fabric. “My nipples.”
His eyes grew darker. “Excellent choice.” He lifted her left breast, letting its small weight settle in his hand, and dropped his mouth, wrapping gentle lips around the tip. “You have the most perfect tits.” The words were crude. The attitude was reverent.
