Chapter 5 The Motherlode
FIVE
THE MOTHERLODE
I was in my kitchen, finishing with fastening my ribbon around the sheet cake box, when I heard two sharp raps on the door.
I was about to go and see who it was when I heard Gabe call, “It’s me.”
Since I’d had a day, I’d given up on finding the energy to pull together the words to let him down easy this time, and instead, I was about to yell at him to buzz off.
But I heard the locks open, and there he was in all his glory, striding in like he paid rent.
I screwed my eyes up at him. “I thought I told you we weren’t doing this.”
“Nothin’ wrong with my hearing,” he replied, coming to a stop across from me and looking down at the cornucopia of goodness laid out on my kitchen bar.
Yet again, I was about to say or do something, but Gabe speaking stopped me.
“Tell me you got extras of those,” and then he pointed at the Boston cream cupcakes.
I stared at his face, and I did it suddenly not feeling ornery, but rather besotted and bewitched.
I’d noticed that Gabriel Stark didn’t give much away.
He wasn’t closed off, per se, he just wasn’t a talker. He kept his cards close to his chest. He was watchful, observant, and present, but he wasn’t a sharer or outgoing.
Though, he was there when he was needed.
Always.
Like, he helped move me in, and Luna, Jess, Shanti, Gemma and Joey.
He helped Javi build the closet Harlow designed for Shirleen and Moses when she organized them.
He helped clear the dead stuff out of the yard of Tex and his wife Nancy’s new house so they could save some money when it was re-landscaped.
But now he was staring at those cupcakes—my cupcakes—like he wanted to dive face first into them.
And he wasn’t hiding it.
Something around my heart started squeezing and I found myself utterly dejected when I had to say, “No.”
He lifted his gaze to me.
Just like when I gave him that look when he said he’d be waiting after I made the delivery last night, he caught my look now, and I knew he instantly deciphered it by the way those blue-blue eyes warmed and the whiskered skin around his beautiful, full lips softened.
“No big deal, babe,” he said quietly.
“They’re Boston cream, filled with custard. I have leftover custard,” my mouth offered without my brain even close to catching up.
“Sounds good. You want me to take care of getting rid of that for you, I’ll do it after I feed you dinner.”
I blinked.
Dinner?
“This one ready to go?” he asked, taking charge of the sheet cake.
I opened my mouth.
And swish, the sheet cake was gone, and he was walking to the door.
“Gabe,” I called.
He said nothing.
“Gabe!” I shouted.
He was out the door.
“Goddammit, he’s done it to me again,” I snapped at the cupcakes.
I just love that guy, Dreamer dreamed.
He’s a pain in our ass, Logic griped.
I stabbed my stamp on the tops of the cupcake boxes, boxed them and was dealing with the ribbon when Gabe returned.
Okay, just let him do this. You’re no less tired than you were last night, Logic stated. You’ve had a weird day. You’re worried about Mr. Shithead. You have a busy day tomorrow. Deliver these, demand he takes you home, and if doesn’t, just call a Lyft when you can.
Or you could go out to dinner with him, Dreamer suggested. Just, you know, get to know him better.
That’s not happening, Logic decided.
Why not? Dreamer demanded.
Because it’s not smart, safe or protective, Logic pointed out.
How boring is all of that? Dreamer asked.
Smart, safe and protective isn’t boring, it’s smart, safe and PROTECTIVE, Logic retorted.
It’s BORING, Dreamer returned.
“Good. You grab that one and we’ll go,” Gabe said, seeing as, while two of my treble personalities were having a discussion, I’d paid attention to them while I fashioned the ribbons around the cupcake boxes rather than doing what I should have been doing—paying attention to Gabe—and now he’d commandeered another box and was again out the door.
Thanks, guys, I entered the conversation. You walked me right into that one.
You’re welcome, Dreamer replied.
Argh!
I nabbed my bag, my phone, shoved my phone in my bag and then grabbed the box and headed out, juggling the box while I locked up.
“Hey, Will,” I heard called from the pool area to see Jacob was grilling, and his fiancée, Alexis, was keeping him company.
It was her calling a greeting.
“Hey!” I replied.
“We need to talk about our wedding cake,” she yelled. “You have time this weekend?”
That was going to be my present to them since some shit had gone down with Alexis’s dad after the engagement announcement. He’d put his foot down about not paying for the wedding because he didn’t approve of his daughter’s choice for a groom.
Since Alexis was a ballerina, not a badass, it took some strength and a lot of emotion, but she found it and told her father to go jump in a lake. She then decreed they were going to pay for it themselves.
It was a drama, it was sad, and it caused Martha to rant and rave for at least a full month to anyone who would listen, because everyone knew, those two were perfect together.
From what I could tell, it sounded like Alexis’s dad just was not at one with letting his baby girl go, when she might always be his baby girl, but she wasn’t actually a baby girl anymore.
To say nothing of the fact that Jacob was awesome. He was a member of the Hottie Squad at NI&S. Great job (if, perhaps, sometimes dangerous). As far as I could tell, fantastic pay, benefits and work environment. And he made it no secret he worshiped the ground Alexis walked on.
So what Alexis’s dad’s deal was, I did not know, except he was a man, and they tended to do unreasonable, damaging crap on the regular.
“I have a few cakes to make and deliver tomorrow, but if you’re around tomorrow night?” I suggested.
“Totes!” she replied. “I’ll pop over around six.”
“Great,” I returned.
And, whoosh, the cupcake box was out of my hands because Gabe was there.
Before I could turn a glare on him, I watched Jacob grin knowingly, and Alexis beam happily on a little jump and clap of her hands.
Someone save me.
“Later!” Alexis cried.
“Later,” I mumbled with a wave in their direction and followed Gabe to his Jeep.
I saw the boxes carefully laid in the back seat and I would not express how grateful I was that he treated my work and livelihood as it should be treated.
I also did not express gratitude as he waited until I got in to hand me the last box.
After he rounded the hood and got in beside me, I further did not express gratitude that I did not have to take three trips to my own car to load up.
No, I balanced the box on my knees as I buckled in and kept my silence.
Gabe started the Jeep and asked, “Where to?”
I gave him the address.
He programmed it into his GPS, and we were on our way.
I was about to launch in about how he was going to bring me home after the delivery, and I was going to go with how tired I was.
So, yeah, it was an excuse, but it was also true.
But putting him off to fight another day sounded really damned good right now.
Again, I did not get that first word out because Gabe beat me to it.
“Okay, getting you’re not there yet, so I’ll start.”
Bewildered by this statement, I turned my head to look at him.
He kept us safe by keeping his eyes on the road, and he started.
“Luke and I are first cousins.”
At this intro, my heart started squeezing again.
Because I wanted to know this.
All of it.
And I so did not.
I didn’t have a choice because he kept going.
“My dad was a late baby. Gram and Gramps had him when they were in their early forties. He was a surprise. Adding to why Luke and I have a big age gap, Dad liked to joke he wanted to play the field, but mostly, I knew, he was scared he was going to be a dick like his brother. So Dad married Mom when he was older.”
I pressed my lips together so I didn’t say anything, because I knew if I said something, it would expose how totally fascinated I was with all he was saying.
He kept saying it.
“Luke’s dad was pure asshole. He treated Aunt Josie like shit, and she’s one of the finest women I know.
But the one who caught the most of his damage was Luke.
Weirdest funeral I’ve been to, that man’s.
Don’t think anyone but Josie was sad he was gone.
Not even Dad. Think Luke was confused, not sad he was gone, not happy he was either. But bottom line, he lost his father.”
I found it odd he named his Aunt Josie, but not “that man.”
I sensed this said a lot about Luke’s dad, and that made me upset for Luke, a dude I’d just semi-kinda met.
“I think Dad was scared he had that somewhere in him, when he didn’t,” Gabe continued. “He’s a great guy. Fortunately, Mom is sharp as a tack, and when she was introduced to Dad’s family, she saw what tweaked Dad and she faced it head on. Dad got over it, they got married and had my sister and me.”
Since it would be rude not to say anything, I forced out what I hoped was a blasé, “Right.”
I stopped watching him speak when he smiled shrewdly at the windshield.
He was totally onto me.
Ugh.
“Obviously,” he went on, “Luke’s the absolute shit. Since I could cipher, I knew I wanted to be like him. Got my degree, double major, criminal justice and criminology with a minor in psychology.”
Psychology.
No wonder he could read my looks. Experience, training and education.
I was screwed.
Also, college degree with double major and a minor, whereas I had a nine-week course in baking and pastry from the Arizona Culinary Institute under my belt with the add-on of a week-long cake decorating class I took online.
Not exactly equals in that regard.
Gabe kept going.