Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Jason hadn’t lost his Christmas spirit. It was worse than that. He’d never found it to begin with...
This made two years in a row that Christmas Day had been difficult, confusing, and lonely. He wasn’t alone . Not like last year. Today there had been plenty of people at his parents’ house. His mom and dad loved including friends and neighbors who had nowhere to go on the holiday.
Christmas morning and the noon meal had included great food, lively conversation, entertaining presents, and plenty of goodwill toward men... and women.
But Jason had yearned to be with Gabby, so he felt lonely even amidst all the chaos and celebration.
He made himself stay until three in the afternoon. After that, he went home and collapsed into a camp chair to mindlessly watch football and contemplate the morass that was his life. What was wrong with him?
He’d managed to wrestle this house into submission...or at least he was well on the way to success. But his relationship with Gabby was far more difficult to wrangle. She wasn’t Sheetrock he could demolish or a wall he could relocate. There were no easy answers. No guarantees.
He had blueprints of what his finished home might look like. But his future with Gabby was far less clear.
Did he even have one?
In a time when men were rightly being held accountable for bad behavior toward women, Jason had tried to honor her independence. Though he’d wanted to spend every night in her bed, he hadn’t pushed when Gabby made excuses.
He had to face the nausea-inducing possibility that he might be more invested in the relationship than she was. That sucked. Big-time.
But when he remembered the look in her eyes as he held her close and made her come, he felt a glimmer of hope. That had to mean something—surely. Gabby didn’t sleep around. She was fastidious and guarded. If she had shared intimacy with him, she must have some feelings that were more than physical.
Unfortunately, she was hung up on his money. She saw it as a deterrent to anything permanent between them. To Jason, the money didn’t matter. But until Gabby trusted him—completely—his bank balance would continue to shadow their relationship.
Around five, he jumped to his feet and grabbed his keys. He couldn’t sit around one second longer. It was Christmas for a few more hours. He wanted to see Gabby. He wanted to kiss her and make her laugh and give her the present he had picked out. He needed her desperately.
Surely Dahlia wouldn’t mind him showing up and interrupting their celebration this late in the day.
He drove to Blossom Branch on autopilot. He set the cruise control so he wouldn’t make stupid mistakes. The radio played in the background.
Though the trip normally felt brief and easily navigated, tonight it was a million miles long. It didn’t help that the shortest day of the year was barely past. Darkness fell early and stayed late.
The roads weren’t empty, but on December 25, traffic was light. Headlights from oncoming cars made him blink. His fingers ached, so much so that he forced himself to loosen his grip on the steering wheel. He’d grabbed a bottle of water on the way out the door. Now he sipped from it every few minutes, struggling against a dry throat.
Sadly, water probably wasn’t the solution.
Until he cleared the air with Gabby, he was going to feel like a man stranded out at sea. No land in sight. No help anywhere.
At last he pulled up in Dahlia’s driveway. The drapes were open. The Christmas tree shone brightly, its colored lights piercing the night.
But the house was dark and seemingly deserted. He frowned. Gabby’s car was parked in the driveway in front of his. Where were Gabby and her mother? It wasn’t even eight yet. Surely they hadn’t gone to bed.
Feeling a weird sense of foreboding, he got out, strode up to the house, and knocked on the door. “Gabby. Are you in there?”
Wild thoughts of gas leaks and home invasions flitted through his head.
Something was wrong. He felt it in his gut.
He knocked a second time, his heart pounding. “Gabby. Open up.”
Without fanfare, the door suddenly swung inward. The woman he wanted, the woman he needed, stood framed in the opening. Because the porch light wasn’t turned on, her face was in shadow. He could see that she was wearing a soft green sweater and dark knit leggings. Her feet were bare despite the chill.
She stared at him. “Jason? What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “It’s Christmas. I wanted to see you.” He held up a small box. “And I brought your present. May I come in?”
There was no answer to his question, but she backed into the house, and he followed her, pausing only to slam and lock the door behind him.
As they stepped into the living room, he saw Gabby’s nest on the sofa. She’d had a blanket for warmth and a cup of tea on the nearby table. The fireplace was empty and cold. A box of tissues flanked the teacup. On the floor lay a mound of used Kleenex.
He dropped the box on the table, slipped out of his jacket, and turned on a lamp. “Gabby. Honey. Where’s your mom?”
Gabriella would be beautiful under any circumstances, but her mascara was smudged, and her eyes were red from crying. She didn’t answer him. Instead, she resumed her stakeout on the sofa. After sitting down, she pulled her knees to her chest, circled her legs with her arms, and buried her face.
Seeing her so upset killed him.
He sat beside her. “Tell, me sweetheart. Where’s Dahlia?” Was she in the hospital? Oh, God, he hoped not. But that didn’t make sense. If it were true, Gabby would be at her mother’s bedside.
This approach was getting him nowhere. He put an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I’m here, Gabby. I won’t leave you.”
After a moment, he realized she was crying again. Silent, dreadful tears that barely shook her shoulders. His arm tightened. “You’re scaring me,” he said quietly. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
She raised her head suddenly and looked at him, her expression wry, her face wet with tears. “I had a big Christmas morning surprise. My mother’s been keeping secrets. Apparently, she was afraid to tell me —her only child—that she’s been seeing Dave Langford. Very seriously. They left this afternoon, right after lunch, for two months in Florida.”
“Oh, Gabby. And you’ve been sitting here alone all this time?”
Now she glared. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me. I’m fine.”
His heart shattered into a hundred jagged pieces. He stroked her hair, tucking one side behind her ear. “Of course you are, my brave girl. Of course you are.” This time he pulled her all the way into his arms and held her as she fell apart.
The thought of Gabby crying in the dark on Christmas was more than he could bear. And of course, Dahlia had done nothing wrong. Not really. Nothing except take a huge step forward in her personal life, but perhaps in the process unwittingly make her daughter think she wasn’t needed anymore.
At last, Gabby’s emotional storm wound down. She sat up and reached for another handful of tissues, wiping her face and blowing her nose. “I’m okay. Honestly. It was just a shock. Everything is changing. It scares me.”
“I can only imagine. Do you think this trip will go well?”
“I hope so. Dave promised me he would look after her as carefully as I do. I believe him. I do.”
There was not much Jason could add to that. Perhaps it was time to change the mood. He reached for the package he had brought with him and handed it to her with a smile. “Merry Christmas, Gabby.”
She touched the shiny paper with a fingernail. “This is pretty.”
“The present is inside,” he said, giving her a droll look.
“Very funny.” She opened the paper with the precision of a special-ops soldier defusing a bomb.
“It’s not breakable.”
“I enjoy the process,” she said, not speeding up one iota.
“Ohhh. You’re one of those.”
Finally she gave him a genuine smile. “What’s the purpose of fancy wrapping paper if the recipient doesn’t appreciate the beauty of the presentation?”
“Fair point,” he conceded.
She opened the small leather box and gasped audibly. “Oh, Jason. They’re gorgeous.” The diamond stud earrings sparkled in the lamplight. She shot him a look. “But this is too much.”
Her reaction was not a surprise. He sighed. “They’re only half a carat each. I knew you wouldn’t let me do anything more.”
She shook her head slowly. “ Only half a carat? Good grief.”
He picked up her much-too-cold hand and kissed her fingers. “Will you wear them, Gabby? For me?”
Dahlia had a wood-framed mirror hanging over the sofa. As Jason watched, Gabby stood and inserted first one and then the other of the flawless stones, peering into the glass. She didn’t need to know how much they cost. Only that they suited her. Fortunately, her tiny, pleased smile spoke volumes.
He stood at her elbow.
She turned her head side to side, staring at her reflection. Even partially shielded by the curve of her hair, the diamonds shot fire. “I love them, Jason. Thank you.” She turned and kissed him sweetly, shocking his system. It seemed like months instead of days since he had tasted her lips.
“You’re welcome,” he said gruffly. If he had his way, he would drape her naked body in diamonds and pearls and never let her leave his bed. There were definite drawbacks to being a twenty-first century male.
Gabby cupped his cheek briefly. “Sit back down. Let me get your gift.”
He was too revved to sit. Instead, he paced in front of the Christmas tree. Tonight felt like a momentous occasion. How would the evening end?
Gabby was back in a heartbeat. She handed him a package that was flat and heavy. Her expression was anxious. “I have a friend, a client from work. He runs a rare book business in Atlanta. When I told him what I was looking for, he came up with this. I hope you don’t already have it. But if you do, it’s okay to tell me. I can take it back.”
Jason unwrapped his gift and stared in astonishment. It was a coffee table book of Hiram Bingham’s incredible Machu Picchu photographs from 1911. The Harvard-and-Yale-trained thirtysomething explorer had led a dangerous and adventurous expedition under the auspices of National Geographic and brought images of the stunning site to the world.
Jason flipped through the first pages slowly. “Gabby. This is incredible. I’ve read articles about these photographs, but I’ve never actually seen the original book.”
She gnawed her lip, her arms wrapped around her waist. “It’s a first edition. You’re a hard man to buy for, but I thought you might like it.”
He shook his head slowly. “I love it.” He stared at her. “I’ve never received such a thoughtful gift. Ever. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Carefully he set the book on the coffee table, a safe distance away from Gabby’s teacup. “I would offer to take you out to dinner, but nothing’s open.”
Her grin was wobbly. “I’d rather you take me to bed.”
His whole body tensed. “I’d like that.”
“Me, too.” Her smile finished him off. He had no defenses against her irresistible pull on him.
In two quick strides, he crossed the room and scooped her into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”
She rested her cheek over his heart. “I’ve missed you, too,” she said.
In the bedroom, he set her on her feet. They stared at each other. The house was small. Small enough that the lamplight from the living room shone across the hall. They didn’t need more than that.
Gabby cocked her head. “Did you bring an overnight bag?”
He winced. “No. I left in a hurry. An impulse. In retrospect, that probably wasn’t too smart.”
Her siren smile made his knees weak. “You’re welcome to share my toothbrush. Or we can go back to Atlanta after...” She waved a hand at the bed.
Jason swallowed hard, his chest tight. “Would you mind if we discussed our later plans... later ?”
She tugged his shirttail from his jeans. “Whatever you want, Jason. I’m feeling particularly fond of you at the moment.” She touched one of her new earrings. “These are far too extravagant, but I’m not giving them back.”
He chuckled as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside. “I’m glad.”
The undressing progressed in fits and starts, interrupted by kisses that were carnal and desperate. They worked on their own clothes at first and then each other’s and then their own again.
When they were both naked, he struggled to breathe. His lungs were on fire, as if he had run a marathon or climbed a mountain.
His hands and arms tingled. “I don’t want to pounce,” he said. “You deserve romance. Especially at Christmas.”
Color bloomed on her sharply etched cheekbones. “Pouncing is allowed. Besides, you’re my favorite present.”
“More than the earrings?” he teased.
“Let’s call it a tie.”
Her gray eyes were dark. She faced him with bravado, her slender, fit body a feast of feminine curves and temptation.
“Ah, Gabby,” he groaned. When he tumbled her onto the bed, they both moaned and clung. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his breath sawing in and out. “You’ve had a rough day. I don’t want to take advantage of you when you’re at a low spot.”
She pinched his arm. “I choose you. Quit being such a Boy Scout.”
He felt her hands in his hair, stroking his ears, massaging his scalp.
His eyes stung. What had he done to deserve this incredible woman? She was physically and emotionally strong, but so beautifully delicate in his arms. Fragile. Like an orchid that couldn’t be roughly handled. Rare. Stunning.
Her breasts were warm in his hands. He squeezed them reverently, thumbing the crests, kissing her wildly when she cried out with pleasure.
Almost lost to reason, he reached at last for his discarded pants and found what he needed in the pocket. Gabby watched him roll on the condom. Her intense regard came close to shattering his tenuous control.
“How do you want me?” he asked hoarsely.
Her pupils were dilated. Her bare pink lips parted in a naughty grin. “Dealer’s choice.” She touched an earring again. “Maybe I’m a bored saloon girl looking for an interesting man. After weeks and months in the wilderness, you’ve rolled into town to celebrate Christmas tonight.”
He blinked, feeling his cheeks heat as his erection swelled even harder. “Got it, little woman. Merry Christmas.”
Gabby sprawled on her back gracefully and welcomed him into her embrace. When he thrust inside her, slender thighs wrapped around his waist. “Oh, Jason...” She caught her breath. “Oh, yes.”
He took her hard. Everything conspired against him. Their separation. The heightened emotions of the evening. A Christmas miracle in his grasp at last. He came too fast, but not before Gabby found her release as well.
After he rolled onto his back, they lay side by side, panting. “Sorry,” he said. “I meant for that to last longer.”
Where their hands touched, she linked her fingers with his. “No complaints from the saloon girl.” Her stomach growled.
“Uh-oh,” he said. “I think I need to feed you.”
“I’m pretty sure a grilled cheese is the best we can do.”
“Works for me.”
They dressed slowly, stopping to smile and kiss and laugh. Jason felt good about his decision to come to Blossom Branch.
By the time they finally made it to the kitchen, his stomach was growling, too.
Gabby pulled out half a loaf of bread. In the fridge, they found butter and cheese and a single apple. “We’re lucky to have this much,” she said. “When a person goes out of town for two months, it’s standard procedure to use up all the groceries.”
The sandwiches came out of the skillet golden-brown and oozing cheesy goodness. Jason cut up the one apple and put half the slices on Gabby’s plate.
The drink choices were limited. They settled for ice water.
The kitchen was quiet as they ate. Jason felt something inside him that had nothing at all to do with Christmas. It was warmth and happiness, and certainty .
But because he still wasn’t sure where Gabby stood emotionally, he kept his thoughts to himself. For now. “Tell me how your week went at work,” he said, smiling.
Gabby rolled her eyes. “Wretchedly long and boring days. But now we’re on break until January 3. I feel light as a feather. How about you?” she asked. “Did you get things done at the house?”
“I did,” he said. “I had a dumpster delivered Tuesday. I’ve made a million trips back and forth with the wheelbarrow.”
“Sounds painful for your back.”
He chuckled. “More than I care to admit. The weather’s looking good for the first half of January, so that’s when I’m having the roof replaced and all the windows swapped out with new ones.”
“I can’t wait to see it.”
Something happened to him then. The thought of Gabby wandering from room to room seemed so right. He wanted to show off his progress, to impress her. He needed to hear her say that she liked the home he was creating.
He wiped his fingers on a napkin and took her hand. “Gabby?”
She looked up from her plate, her smile gentle and sweet. “Yes?”
“I’m in love with you.”
He hadn’t meant to say it. But the words tumbled out eagerly.
His dinner companion froze. The color drained from her face. Her gaze was haunted. “Don’t,” she said. “Please don’t, Jason.”
Her response stunned him so much he did little more than release her and fall back into his chair. The searing pain was almost more than he could bear. “Don’t what?” He heard the sharp-edged question. It sounded bitter even to his ears.
Her lower jaw wobbled. “Don’t ruin tonight.”
“Ruin?”
“We were having fun. I’m really glad you came to Blossom Branch. You’ve made me feel so much better.”
“I said I love you . I was hoping you might love me in return. Do you, Gabby? Do you love me?”
Now she looked as if she might faint, but she was sitting down. The agony in her eyes was his answer. He’d been so sure about her feelings, but he was wrong.
Gabby stood and began clearing the table. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “It doesn’t matter if I love you or not. I can’t be the woman in your life.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
She put her back to the sink and leaned against it, as if needing the support. “I think you should go,” she said. Tears trickled down her cheeks again. This time they didn’t move him. Not even a little.
He was frozen inside. Paradoxically, anger bubbled up in his gut like raw lava waiting to gush forth, obliterating everything in its path.
“Pack your bags, Gabby.”
She frowned at his stark command. “Why?”
He scowled back at her, feeling both furious and frustrated. Heartbroken, too, but he shoved that razor-sharp pain aside out of sheer self-preservation. Anger was so much easier than desolation. “I can’t stay here in this house with you, and I’m not leaving you alone. I’m going to follow you back to Atlanta and make sure you get to your apartment safely.”
“And then?”
How dare she ask him such a question? And how dare she lie to him about love? She hadn’t said she didn’t love him. But she sidestepped his question, refusing to offer the words he so desperately wanted to hear. He ground his jaw, lifted his chin. Gave her an icy stare.
His chest was an aching, empty cavity. His heart a wretched stone in his belly. It was over. He’d never really had a chance with her at all.
“And then I’ll drive away and leave you alone. Exactly the way you like it.”