31. Nora
Chapter Thirty-One
NORA
Gabriel cast me a bemused smile. “It’s a little sore, but that’s it. I promise you can stop fussing over it.”
I rested my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes. “Are you sure it’s not bothering you? You were scratching at it last night when you were asleep.”
I rolled my eyes. “It itches because it’s getting better,” he countered.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irritated look on his face. “Probably true,” I said as I crossed the kitchen to him and leaned down.
I meant my kiss to be brief, but Gabriel slid his hand around the back of my neck, drawing me close and angling my head to the side when he took command. By the time he pulled back, I was breathless, and my pulse was thundering in my ears.
“Now, what time is my appointment with Quinn today?” he asked, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.
I straightened and turned to walk to the counter on slightly unsteady legs.
Sweet hell. I couldn’t help but wonder just how long it would take me to get used to the effect he had on me.
Of course, I thought that effect would’ve passed already.
If anything, it seemed to be getting worse now that the barriers had fallen away between us.
I poured myself a cup of coffee, glancing at him. “Coffee?”
“Always.”
I poured two cups, adding a dash of cream to mine and carrying his over. “Not always,” I replied as I set his mug down on the table and slipped into the chair across from him. “If it’s evening, you want a beer.”
He took a swallow, chuckling as he lowered his mug. “Fair enough. So, what time is my appointment?”
“Two. Do you want me to go with you?”
He eyed me for a few beats. “Maybe,” he said cautiously. “But not if you’re going to lecture me in front of Quinn.”
“I won’t lecture you. I’ll just make sure that we know what his recommendations are so you don’t screw up your recovery.”
Gabriel took a long swallow of coffee, his gaze speculative. “Nora, it’s a cut. That’s it, just a cut.”
“A paper cut is technically just a cut,” I replied tightly. “That gash was no minor cut. It required deep cleaning and stitches.”
His gaze softened, and he reached across the table, catching my hand in his. “Babe, I needed stitches, and they had to clean it, but that’s it. I know it’s worse than a paper cut, but I’m really fine.”
Suddenly, tears pressed hot at the backs of my eyes. “I know,” I said thickly. “But it scared me.”
“I know. I love you. You can fuss over me all you want.”
I smiled through my blurry gaze. “Okay,” I whispered.
At that moment, his phone vibrated on the table. He released my hand and spun it around to glance at the screen. “It’s my mom,” he offered, his eyes lifting to mine.
“Go ahead and take it. Unless you’d rather not.”
“I’ll take it. It’s easier to deal with it right off.”
He lifted the phone to his ear as he dragged his thumb across the screen. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I heard the murmured sounds of a voice as he nodded. “Doing fine. How are you?”
A few more murmurs, and then he nodded and said, “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”
He nodded along to whatever she said, before replying, “Take care, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up the phone and set it down. I waited, nursing my coffee and not wanting to press.
“She needed some money. That’s usually what she calls for.”
“Do you mind?” I asked carefully, hoping I didn’t unintentionally slam the door shut on this opening between us.
He shrugged. “Not really. She never asks for much, and I have it. Mostly all I do is save the money I earn here.”
“You don’t mind even though she wasn’t there for you when you were growing up?”
He shook his head. “No. Like I told you, I’d feel worse if I didn’t.
I didn’t understand it when I was younger, but she didn’t have what she needed, and she was an alcoholic.
She’s sober now, at least as far as I know.
Maybe she couldn’t be there for me when I was a kid, but I’d regret not helping her.
It’s not a big deal. That’s actually easier to give her than if she suddenly wanted to be a big part of my life. ”
“You’re a good man, Gabriel,” I said softly, once again feeling the hot press of tears in my eyes.
Because he was a genuinely good man. I loved him, and he loved me, and I would never again carelessly let my defenses discard the heart he’d given to me to protect. I’d cherish it for the rest of my life.
His lips quirked slightly at the corners before worry chased through his eyes. “Are you crying?” He reached over, catching my fingers in his and rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand.
“I’m just emotional. That’s all.” I took a breath. “How does your sister feel about your mom?”
“She’s a little more bitter than me.” He wrinkled his nose at that. “And that’s okay. She and I stay in touch, and we’re good. I don’t think she’d want me to tell Mom to fuck off and not take care of her. But she’d rather not be involved, and that’s fine.”
“You’re a good man,” I repeated.
He shifted his chair, scooting around the table to be closer to me. He tugged my chair to face him, his knees bracketing mine as he palmed my cheek. “And you’re a good woman, Nora. I love you.”
My pulse tapped wildly, almost as if it were clapping. “I love you too.”
His forehead fell to mine, and he gave me a lingering kiss. When he leaned back, he said, “Come with me to that appointment. I’ll get my stitches out, and then we can get something to eat in town.”
I was laughing, and my heart felt so full it almost ached.