Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Monica
I didn’t expect to wake up in Gabriel’s arms, but that’s precisely what happened the following morning. I’m beginning to see that Gabriel is in a league of his own in regard to men. Everything he says he’s going to do, he does it. I’ve never known such support from a male. It’s incredibly refreshing.
Neither of us moved the entire night, except we’d been holding hands, our fingers intertwined against Gabriel’s heart. I relish in the steady beat of his heart against my hand. Gabriel stirs and leans down to place a tender kiss against my forehead.
“How are you feeling, querida ?” he asks, his voice deep from sleep. He has such a sexy morning voice, especially when he calls me querida . Makes my girlie bits sing.
“Okay, I guess,” I answer.
Before we can say anything else, a nurse pops in.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. I’ve already got your discharge paperwork ready. The doctor just asked that you have someone with you for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours in case you need help,” the nurse says.
“I’m her person,” Gabriel says proudly with a crooked smile. I can’t help but giggle. “I’m honored to be your person, querida . Nothing to laugh at.”
“You sound a little too thrilled to be in this position,” I tell him.
He shrugs.
“I hate that you went through that, querida . Hate that you were alone and scared. Of course, I’ll always support you and do whatever you need me to do. But right now, I need you in my house to ensure you’re safe.”
“Okay,” I whisper. Gabriel has always unnerved me in the most unusual ways. I’m not used to men speaking so blatantly about their wants or desires. He doesn’t sugarcoat things with me. Tells me exactly as it is.
After signing all the paperwork and getting discharge instructions, the hospital provided me with scrubs and shoes so I could leave. Gabriel leads me to his car and helps me into the passenger seat. I’m quiet on the drive to his house. I’ve never been to his house. I have no idea what to expect.
Turns out Gabriel lives in Liv’s old neighborhood. His condo is bigger than Liv’s, but I wonder if I’ve seen Gabriel before and not realized it. I’ve been to Liv’s a dozen times over the couple of years I’ve been living here.
“What’s all that?” I ask, pointing to a stack of boxes on Gabriel’s front porch.
“Clothes for you,” he answers.
“What?” I breathe.
“I knew you’d need clothes. So I ordered some,” Gabriel says nonchalantly.
“Why?” I ask. I’m dumbfounded.
“Okay, I’ll repeat this. I knew you needed clothes, so I ordered some. Did you want to wear these scrubs for the foreseeable future?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Then I guess I made the right decision.”
“How did you even know my size?” I ask.
“ Querida , you’re tiny. Women’s clothes only go so small. I picked many clothes I thought you would like and feel comfortable in. Anything you don’t want, I’ll just return,” Gabriel explains.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” I whisper, suddenly self-conscious and feeling out of my element.
“ Querida …” he starts, but my phone rings as he parks in his garage. When I woke up surrounded by smoke, I could only grab my phone. I’ve lost everything. Getting my credit cards and IDs is going to be a nightmare. I don’t even have my birth certificate now.
I cringe, seeing it’s Emily. Guarantee she’s heard through the grapevine about the apartment. I almost don’t want to answer, but then she’ll assume the worst, and I can’t be sending her into labor.
“ARE YOU OKAY?” Emily shouts.
“No need to shout, Em. My hearing is fine,” I wince as I hold the phone away from my ear.
“Why didn’t you call me? I drove past your apartment and saw it burned to the ground! You’re lucky it didn’t kill you because I’m going to kill you now!” she roars. I hear Nathan in the background, trying to soothe her and asking her to breathe.
“Em, it’s not like I was hiding it from you. I’ve been in the hospital. I was just released thirty minutes ago,” I tell her.
“Do you need me to come to get you? You’re staying with me, right?” she asks.
“Oh. No. Gabriel got me.”
“Gabriel? Hot boss?” she shrieks. I glance over to see Gabriel smirking and shaking his head. Lovely .
“Can you seriously lower your voice? You’re obnoxiously loud right now.”
“No. I can’t. This is my volume today. Deal with it.”
“Gabriel asked me to stay with him. I need someone with me for the next couple of days, Em. You’re pregnant, and you have your hands full at home. I don’t want to put any extra stress on you,” I explain. She huffs.
“Mon, I need to know you’re okay. I can’t lose you,” Em says quietly.
“She can come over anytime, querida ,” Gabriel says as he opens the car door and climbs out. He rounds the car to open my door, extending a hand and helping me stand.
“Did he just call you some kind of name?” Emily whispers.
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“ Querida .”
“What does that mean?”
“It means sweetheart.”
“Monica!” Em hisses. I sigh. I know what she’s thinking.
“I know,” I say as I follow Gabriel into his condo. “I’m going to let you go. We just got here, and I’m really tired.”
“Call me later, okay? I don’t care what time. Just call me. And ask Gabriel if I can come over tomorrow,” Emily says.
“I will. Love you, Em.”
“Love you too, Mon. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
We end the call, and I take my first look around Gabriel’s home. I’m surprised at how stark and barren it looks. There’s no personality here. No color. Nothing on the walls. The family room has big comfortable-looking furniture and a massive television, and nice bar stools surround the kitchen island. But other than that, the first floor is not at all what I expected.
Gabriel is bringing in the boxes at the front door, and I giggle, seeing him carry a massive stack of boxes precariously .
“Where did you order all of this?” I ask.
“Amazon mostly. Some are from Walmart because they could deliver them today. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable the first few days,” he tells me. We begin to open boxes together.
“You really didn’t have to do this,” I comment quietly. Gabriel doesn’t respond. As I open the first box, I peek through my lashes at him. God, he’s so damn beautiful. His dark blonde hair is unruly and unkempt, as if he’s spent all day running his fingers through it in frustration. One small lock has fallen against his forehead, and I resist the urge to push it away with my fingers. I know if I touch him, I’ll want more.
“Oh,” he says, his face reddening, “Um, you should probably open this one. Um, I’m sorry. I had to guess what you might like and your size. I wasn’t sure.”
My brow furrows in confusion as I take the box from him. As I peer inside, I realize what he meant. The package includes individually wrapped panties in a variety of colors, styles, and textures. At the bottom are a handful of bras. I can feel embarrassment heating my face as I think of how to respond.
“Okay, I think I’ll unpack this one later,” I say hastily as I push the box to the side and open the next box. We continue opening boxes in silence. Gabriel purchased pajamas, professional attire, and even some casual clothes. I’m taken aback by the care and attention he put into this. So many of the items are either exact replicas or very close to things I owned before the fire.
“Let’s take everything upstairs. Would you like to wash everything? My washer and dryer are up there, as well as the bedrooms,” Gabriel says. Oh shit. We never discussed sleeping arrangements. “I have a guest bedroom, querida . You can stay there if you’re more comfortable. I’d prefer you sleep with me so I can hold you, but whatever you want is fine.”
I let out a relieved exhale, and Gabriel laughs.
“What?” I ask.
“Did you think I’d force you to stay with me in my bed?” he asks.
“No. I just wasn’t sure. We didn’t discuss it,” I tell him.
“If I only had the one bed, I’d be perfectly fine sleeping on the couch, querida . I just want you to be comfortable and content. Whatever you need.”
He leads me upstairs and shows me the laundry room, where we throw everything into the washer. I’m one of those ‘wash it all in cold and don’t bother separating anything’ kind of people. I see no difference in my clothes if I separate light and dark loads. Just get everything clean.
After we get the wash started, he leads me past a closed door and into what I assume is the master bedroom. Nothing on the walls, but a massive bed with an ornate-looking headboard is the showcase of the room. A fluffy navy comforter and tons of pillows are strewn haphazardly across the mattress. He points to the corner, where I see a door leading into the bathroom. I realize now this space is extremely similar to Liv’s condo. I peek in the bathroom and find a huge soaking tub, plus a walk-in shower with multiple shower heads.
“If you’d like to take a bath, just let me know. I think I have bath salts and bubble bath around here somewhere,” Gabriel says as he rifles through cabinets.
“Not right now, but maybe later,” I tell him.
Gabriel takes my hand and leads me out of the bathroom. We walk back into the hallway and over to the closed door. He opens it to reveal a much smaller room with white furniture and a smaller bed.
“This has only been used twice. My mother visited once, and one of my sisters visited once. You can stay in here, or you can stay with me. Your choice, querida ,” he says quietly. I don’t respond as I let the choice weigh on my mind. “I need to make some calls and check on the office. I’ ll leave you to unwind, take a nap, whatever. If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.”
Gabriel kisses the top of my head before walking out of the room. I’m torn. I don’t want to be alone tonight. But I’m afraid we are blurring the lines. He’s my boss. If this ends badly, one of us will have to switch offices. It would most likely be me, seeing how he’s the broker and my boss.
I stretch out on the bed as I weigh each option. I close my eyes as I relax and fall asleep before I know it.
“ Querida , wake up. You’re okay. It’s just a bad dream. Baby, please …” Gabriel says.
I awake with a jolt. The room has darkened as the sun is setting, meaning I’ve been asleep for a few hours. I find myself in Gabriel’s lap as he rubs my spine softly.
“I’m okay,” I whisper.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“I think so. How did you know I had a bad dream?” I ask.
“You started screaming. I could hear you downstairs.”
“Well, that’s not embarrassing at all,” I joke.
“You’ve had a traumatic experience. It’s to be expected. I’d be more concerned if you didn’t have any nightmares and could move forward without issue,” Gabriel says. “I made some pasta. Would you like to come downstairs and eat?”
My stomach growls in answer, and Gabriel chuckles. I was discharged from the hospital right before lunch, so I haven’t eaten since they served me a less-than-stellar breakfast early this morning.
I gingerly slide off Gabriel’s lap and stand up. I’m slightly lightheaded. Gabriel’s arms curl around me as I sway and catch my breath.
“I’ve got you,” he says quietly .
We walk slowly down the stairs, Gabriel’s arms never leaving me. His embrace has become so comforting I’m like an addict wanting more. I feel cherished in his arms.
We walk into the kitchen, and he pulls out a bar stool for me, then goes to plate the pasta. Gabriel returns with a plate full of pasta, garlic bread, and salad.
“Wow, this is quite the spread,” I comment.
“I was bored,” he says with a crooked smile. I giggle as I swirl the pasta around my fork and bring it to my mouth. The amazing flavors burst on my tongue, and I moan blissfully.
“Holy shit, Gabriel. This is amazing,” I tell him.
“One of my soldiers a few years ago taught me how to make the best Italian spaghetti sauce. He learned from his grandmother. I’ve deviated slightly from their recipe, but it’s my favorite thing to make when I have a few hours to let it simmer,” Gabriel explains.
“Did you use ground beef or ground pork?” I ask through a mouthful of pasta. I’m inhaling this. I didn’t realize how famished I was.
“Ground pork. I know you can tell the difference, querida , so I don’t know why you asked,” he teases. I giggle in response. He’s right. Most Italians use a variety of meats in a bolognese sauce. It’s never just beef.
“Are you going to eat?” I ask.
“I will. I’m just enjoying watching you. Do you know you hum when you’re enjoying a meal? You make the cutest little sounds,” he tells me with a small smile.
“I do?” I ask, and he nods. “I didn’t realize that.” I try to eat quietly, focusing on not making any noise.
“Don’t do that. Relish in the food, querida . Enjoy it. It’s a tremendous compliment to me that you love this. Make the noises. Live in the moment.” Gabriel stares at me, his eyebrow cocked. He’s ready for me to hum, evidently.
“I’m not gonna do it on command,” I blurt out, which makes Gabriel throw back his head as he laughs. His eyes twinkle with mischief and tenderness when he looks back at me. “Please eat. You’re making me nervous.”
“Okay, querida . I’ll eat, too,” Gabriel says.
After dinner, Gabriel asks if I’d like to watch a movie. After my afternoon nap, I’m not even remotely tired, so we head into the family room to pick a movie.
“The sides of the couches recline, and there’s a massage feature,” Gabriel comments.
“It massages?” I exclaim with glee.
“Buttons on the side. The top is for the headrest, the middle is the massage, and the bottom is recline.”
I immediately start messing with the buttons and giggling with glee. Once I’m fully reclined, I turn on the massage feature and let out a low moan. I must have moaned louder than I thought because Gabriel clears his throat.
“Maybe don’t moan like that, though,” he says huskily, his eyes full of heat as he stares at me.
“Okay, what kind of movie do you want to watch?” I ask as I avert my eyes.
“I’m fine with anything. You pick.”
I scroll through Netflix until I find a romantic comedy I’ve already seen. It’s been a tumultuous day, and I think watching something where I know the ending is preferred. Gabriel approaches me with a throw blanket in his arms and covers me up before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. I find myself slightly disappointed he didn’t sit right next to me.
Gabriel reclines his seat but then stretches out, so his head is across the middle of the couch and next to my lap. I catch a whiff of his enticing cologne and have to bite my lip to keep from sighing. I need to sneak into his bathroom and find his cologne so I can buy some. I wonder if the cologne itself will smell as good or if Gabriel’s inherent scent embellishes the cologne to make it so enticing for me .
I become engrossed in the movie, even though I’ve seen it before. Typically I prefer suspenseful movies, but there’s something so calming and optimistic about a romantic comedy. It’s exactly what I need tonight.
“Don’t stop, querida ,” Gabriel whispers, jarring me from my focus. I look down at him and realize I’ve got my hand in his hair. I don’t even know when I did that. I must have been sliding my hand through his hair, but now I’m paralyzed with uncertainty. Gabriel takes my hand in his and brings it to his mouth, kissing my palm reverently. He then faces me and stares at me before placing my hand on his cheek. My palm automatically cups his cheek as we stare at each other. Gabriel moves so his head is in my lap, and I sigh contently. This feels so right.
Gabriel slides his left arm around my waist and leans forward to kiss a tiny sliver of my abdomen peeking out under my scrub shirt. I can’t help the moan that falls from my lips this time. I’m sure he can feel the heat from my center burning into the side of his face. My entire body feels like it’s pulsating with need. One touch of his lips, and I’m close to igniting.
“Gabriel,” I breathe. He kisses my abdomen again, then traces a pattern on my skin with his tongue. “Oh, God.”
“Not God, baby. Just me,” he whispers as my hand finds the back of his head and holds him to me. He uses his right hand to pull my scrub shirt up an inch, then continues to kiss my stomach. “You’re shaking, querida . I’m barely touching you, and you’re putty in my hands. Makes me wonder what you’ll do when I can really taste you. Feel you. How it will be when we become one.”
“Jesus,” I mutter as my hand grabs his hair tightly. My shirt has moved up again, and his thumb lightly strokes the underside of my breast. “Oh, fuck!”
“You’re a lightning rod of responsiveness, querida . I can’t wait to bury myself inside of you. To feel you come apart on my fingers, my tongue, my cock,” he murmurs as his kisses get closer and closer to my chest. As I’m about to beg him to take me upstairs and have his way with me, my phone rings. I swear I can hear my nipples cry out in frustration.
“It’s Emily,” I tell him breathlessly.
“Tell the little cockblocker I look forward to meeting her tomorrow,” he says dryly as he moves from the couch to grab my phone where I left it in the kitchen. I accept the call without looking at the number.
“I’m fine,” I answer, which makes Emily laugh.
“Just checking.”
“Probably good that you called when you did,” I whisper when Gabriel is out of earshot. “Things were getting heated here. I’m not sure I’m ready for that, but if you hadn’t called, I think it would have happened.”
“Why don’t you think you’re ready for it?” Em asks quietly.
“I don’t know,” I say exasperatingly. “I’m second-guessing every feeling with him. Every move. Every thought. I don’t trust myself anymore.”
“Marcus did a number on you, babe. He’s the bad guy, not Gabriel. Don’t let Gabriel pay for the bad choices of another man.”
“Easy for you to say. You’ve got Nathan wrapped around your pinkie,” I tell her sarcastically.
“It wasn’t always that way, though. We had a rough period too. Relationships aren’t perfect. We all fuck up. Being in love means you choose to continue loving someone despite their misgivings and fuck ups.”
“Woah woah woah! Who said anything about the L-word?” I hiss quietly.
“Oh, girlie. I know you. I know your heart. You’ve been falling for that man for months.”
“No, I have not!” I exclaim .
“I’m really not going to argue with you about this. I was just calling to make sure you are still alive. Your voice sounds hoarse. Are you drinking enough water?” Em asks. I chuckle inwardly. Once a mom, always a mom.
“Yes, mom, Gabriel has been forcing me to stay hydrated. Can I go now?” I ask.
“I’m calling you back in the morning.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
As we end our call, my phone dings with a text message.
Liam: You got some explaining to do, ma’am.
Me: God dammit.
Liam: Yeah. Not cool, sis.
I love that Liam calls me sis. We aren’t related, but we had a sibling relationship as soon as we met. He calls me out on my shit as I do to him.
Me: In my defense, I slept the majority of the day.
Liam: Yes, I went to see you at Nate and Em’s, so I’D LIKE TO KNOW WHERE THE FUCK YOU ARE
Me: Like Emily didn’t tell you.
Liam: I want a name and an address.
Me: You’re not doing a background check on my boss, Liam.
Liam: The hell I’m not! I’m kicking myself for not doing a background check on Marcus. Not taking any more chances with your men.
Me: He lives in Liv’s old complex. That’s all I’m telling you. You better not try and track down this info. He’s a good man, but he’s not MY man..
Liam: Well, you can understand that I don’t really trust your opinion right now, Mon. Your boy Marcus is a prime example of that.
Me: I didn’t know he’d end up a psycho. I was only using him for sex. He was the one who wanted a relationship.
Liam: Ew. Gross.
Me: Oh, shut up. You’ve told me way worse about Liv.
Liam: True.
Liam: In any case, I did want to let you know that the initial finding on the apartment fire is arson.
Me: Holy shit! How did they figure that out so fast?
Liam: Whoever did it left a container of gasoline behind the building with a clear line of accelerant leading to the building.
Me: Do they have any leads?
Liam: Not yet. But they’ll get to the bottom of this, Mon. I promise.
Me: Thanks, Liam. I’m really tired, so I’m heading to bed.
Liam: Alone?
Me: LIAM
Liam: Just tell me his name. I promise I won’t go TOO far into his past.
Me: Goodnight, Liam.
Liam: Night, sis.
I look up to see Gabriel on one of the bar chairs with his head on the island. When I approach, I can hear him snoring softly. I don’t want to wake him up, so I take the throw blanket from the couch and lightly cover his shoulders before heading upstairs to the guest room. Guess I’m sleeping alone tonight. Probably better.