Chapter Sixteen
Almost a week had passed since they’d been able to leave the cabin and they were both busy. The college students had come back in full force after the winter break, and it hadn’t slowed yet. Between coffee in the morning and booze at night, business was booming.
Devlin stood behind the counter of Books and Beans and felt a thrill pass through her when she saw one particular man in the middle of the long line of customers. They’d spent what time they could together, but their opposite hours made it difficult, so they visited each other at their respective establishments when the opportunity arose. Breakfast at Devlin’s shop and lunch or dinner at Gabe’s bar. Having Devlin’s loft right there had been helpful for them to get some much needed alone time.
Devlin counted the days until they could be together with no other commitments, but with the Winter Wonderland activities starting today, she knew they’d have to get creative in order to spend time together. She couldn’t forget the proposal deadline looming like a bucket of water held over their heads. They hadn’t discussed it since the cabin by silent mutual agreement, but it was there, and she was more than aware of it.
The proposal she’d come up with at the cabin with Annabelle and Prudence was a solid one. They’d poured over her finances, forecasted profits and drawn up plans that included other options to increase her profits, including expanding her customer base and the products she offered. Between the three of them, they’d exhausted all avenues of growth and she felt better than ever with what she had to present to the town council.
Looking at Gabe now, and seeing the smile on his face, she felt a small tingle in the back of her brain. The tiniest hint of unease about her plan appeared and she faltered for a moment, burning her thumb on a coffee warmer just as Gabe reached the front of the line. She hissed in pain, blowing on the offending digit.
“You’re lucky today is the ice sculpture competition.” Gabe reached over the counter to take a look at her finger. “There’ll be plenty around to cool off that burn.”
“How can I forget? Annabelle hired someone for the newspaper to sculpt a bee and she won’t stop talking about it. I don’t see what’s so exciting about sculpting freezing ice in freezing temperatures.”
Gabe shrugged. “I wish I had a fun story to tell, like the town elders held yearly competitions to see who could come up with the best way to preserve ice year round until refrigeration was invented, but there’s no story to go with this one.”
“Well, I’m going to be freezing my butt off later at the hot cocoa stand. It got cold out.”
Gabe tilted his gaze toward Devlin’s loft. “You have time for me to warm you up?”
She glanced behind him at the line of customers still waiting. “As wonderful as that sounds, between the customers and prepping for the cocoa stand, I’m going to be busy for the rest of the afternoon. At least the contest won’t go past dinnertime.”
“Hey, I have the night off, why don’t you come over after? I still haven’t painted the basement so that was my only plan for the evening.”
Devlin had only been to Gabe’s house once, and that was for a quick visit. She wouldn’t mind spending more time over there and getting to see the whole place.
“Now that’s a plan. Should I bring painting clothes over?”
“Sure, why not? I don’t know how much we’ll get done, but it’ll get started. I’ll stop at the hot cocoa stand on my way home.”
He leaned in for a quick peck then turned to leave and she watched him on the way to the door until the next customer in line cleared her throat to get her attention.
“I’m so sorry, what can I get started for you?”
* * * *
Devlin stomped her booted feet on the ground later that afternoon for the umpteenth time, trying to thaw her frozen toes. Her breath came out in white bursts and the hot cocoa cooled almost as soon as she poured it. She enjoyed the cold, but this was miserable.
The ice sculpture competition was in full swing, and the frigid temperatures sent people over in droves to get a hot beverage to warm up. She’d had to call Emma more than once to prepare extra supplies and Prudence had been kind enough to deliver them to her when she needed them. She decided that this was her last round, and she was going to pack it all in when she ran out this time.
Holding a cup of spiced cider in her frozen hands, she watched the sculptors put the final touches on their art. The loudest part had been at the beginning—most of them had used chainsaws to start—but now the gentle tink-tink of hammers on chisels was a soothing background noise.
A frisson of warmth ran through her when she spied Gabe walking toward her from across the town square. He was the most handsome man she’d seen, although that description seemed lacking. Handsome didn’t convey his fit physique with long, well-muscled limbs. She recalled New Year’s Eve, when she thought he had the effortless look of someone who did manual labor for a living, and she now knew she wasn’t too far off with his constant movement at the bar and the strength one needed to make furniture like he did.
His smile, though—that smile was the most attractive thing about him. His lips tilted up at one corner almost all the time, like he was one moment away from breaking out into a grin, or had a good natured quip at the ready. That was something you didn’t learn, and she bet that he was easy as a baby. Whenever he spoke he had a twinkle in his eye, and he listened with such compassion that she was surprised she hadn’t told him her whole life story yet.
“Are you frozen?” he asked, walking behind the table and giving her a quick kiss.
“I’m so cold.” She shivered, and he wrapped her in a side hug. “But you’re helping a lot.”
“How much time do you think you have left?”
Devlin looked around at the dwindling crowd and lifted one of her now empty carafes. “Looks like I’m done. The table is the city’s, so I just have to put the supplies away.”
Gabe helped her pack the few belongings before motioning toward the street. “I’ve got the truck since it’s too cold out to walk and the heat is blasting in it already. I’ve got the basement prepped and ready for painting if you want to come to my place?”
“You had me at heat blasting. Lead the way.”
* * * *
“My arms are burning,” Devlin complained a few hours later. They’d eaten a quick dinner of leftovers and had gotten started painting the basement, speeding through the first coat and starting on the second.
“Here, you switch to the roller, I’ll take over the trim.”
They swapped tools and continued painting, soft music playing in the background.
They lapsed into silence again, as they had a few times over the last hour, and Devlin was grateful that neither felt like they had to fill the air with noise.
She peeked at him over her shoulder and caught him grinning, like he was in the middle of telling the most hilarious joke.
“You were an easy baby, weren’t you?” she demanded, as if they’d been having a conversation about his childhood disposition this whole time.
“Of course I was,” he answered without missing a beat. “With a kid that had the flair for the dramatic like Greyson, I must’ve known my parents needed a break.”
“I knew it. You don’t just turn into a charming man like yourself, you’re born like it.”
“You think I’m charming?”
“Digging for compliments, Atwood?”
“I’ve never had to dig for them before,” Gabe admitted.
“And humble too, ladies and gentlemen,” Devlin drawled.
“I just prefer to see the upside of things.”
“This world has a lot of downsides.”
“I know that. Of course I know that. I can only go by my experiences and upbringing, though, I have no reason to have a negative reaction if I can be positive. I see no point in that.”
Well, damn . “I don’t think I’ve met anyone else with such a positive outlook on life. You’re a lucky guy, Gabe.”
“I suppose that’s luck. What about you? What kind of baby were you?”
“My parents never talked about me as a baby. I seem to have come out fully formed as a difficult teenager.”
“Difficult? You?”
“Not everyone has a middle class suburban upbringing with the doting parents and close siblings.” She ran the roller along the wall with some force, causing the paint to spatter back onto her. “Dad was there when he decided it was convenient to be there and Mom would’ve been happier or better off somewhere else. Anywhere else. She reminded me of that almost daily.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you keep in touch with them?”
“I haven’t spoken to my dad in years and my mom only reaches out to me when she needs something. I didn’t send her my forwarding address, so I haven’t heard from her since I moved.” There must have been a hint of bitterness in her voice as Gabe started to move toward her.
“Hey, Dev, my life wasn’t perfect.”
Devlin gestured around the room. “You’re living in your childhood home. A beautiful home, one that you have fond memories of being raised in, and I’ve never heard you say a cross word about your parents. That alone is close to perfection to me.”
“I’ll grant you that. I have nothing to complain about. I’m sorry I brought this up. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
Devlin waved his concern away. She was being pitiful, bringing the mood down over a past she could never change. Yes, this was her truth, her life experience, but she could recognize in herself that in the short time she’d known Gabe she’d been happier than she could remember. After her miserable upbringing and dating a series of men just as terrible as her parents, she realized she was happy. Gabe made her happy. No, she’d been happy before she met Gabe. She’d made herself happy by leaving Boston and moving to Amber Falls, but she understood that he was helping her find her inner happiness, the part of her that was begging to come out and play. The part of her that wanted to see the good in everyone, or the humor in situations that should be humorless. The eternal nature versus nurture debate, and although her nature had been stormy, she just needed someone like Gabe to nurture her.
“Enough about the past.” Devlin needed to change the subject. “Have you decided what kind of games you’re going to put down here?”
Gabe surveyed the large room then walked over to a corner with an egress window. “I’m going to put some walls over here and make this a guest room.”
“Really?” Considering their past talk about this being a bachelor pad, Devlin was surprised at this revelation.
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation from the store, about leaving the upstairs rooms as family rooms and making this a guest space.” She saw him visibly swallow, as if nervous about what he was going to say next. “I did remodel this house—this home—for more reasons than it needed updating, but I never let myself think about why. Until now.”
“What changed?” she prodded.
Gabe was quiet for a moment. He started to speak then stopped.
Devlin realized she wasn’t ready for his answer. Too much was at stake for the implied you to be spoken aloud. Nonetheless, he held her gaze, not letting her shy away from the emotions in his eyes despite not being able to say the word.
She coughed and cleared her throat, starting to paint again with her roller, letting the moment pass. “So, no pool table, huh?”
“No pool table.” Gabe picked up his brush and kept working.
“Now that a game room is out, what else do you want to do?”
“Other than the bedroom, I’m going to get a huge fluffy sectional, and a big-screen TV would be perfect against this wall. Some recessed lighting to brighten it up, maybe.”
“You still have room for some games. I’ve always been a fan of ping pong.”
“Maybe air hockey or foosball.”
She finished the last wall with a flourish, setting down the roller and stretching out her shoulders, wincing at the pain that shot through her back. “That does it, two coats on every wall.”
Gabe walked over to her and took her hand, massaging it. “I think a wet bar would be nice over here.”
“A wet bar, you say?”
He nodded. “Things could get very wet in this corner of the room.”
Devlin put her arms around Gabe’s neck and pulled him close. “What if I told you things were already wet?”
Gabe smiled. “I’d have no choice but to believe you.”
She reached down and toyed with his zipper, stroking his erection once she freed it from his jeans. “Do you have a condom? My purse is upstairs.”
He produced one from his wallet and after sliding it on, Gabe reached down and lifted both her skirt and her at the same time, bracing her back against the wall. She felt the tip of his cock teasing her entrance and, as she had promised, was already very wet and he slid easily into her.
She was half aware that her back was against a wall that had yet to dry. The smell of wet paint mingled with the pungent musk of sex creating yet another tantalizing scent that had no business being so carnal and she knew that wet paint would forever be an aphrodisiac.
She tangled her tongue with Gabe’s and focused on the place they were joined, tightening her legs around his hips, holding on and letting him set the pace.
He snaked his hand between them, circling her clit and whispered in her ear, “I need you to come for me. Now.”
She convulsed at his command, almost losing her hold on him as her body strained against him. He removed his hands and put them on the wall on either side of her head, using the new balance to pump into her. She caught his mouth again as he came, helping to calm him as he slowed his movements.
She loosened her legs from around him and lowered herself to the ground. Gabe looked at his hands that had been braced on either side of Devlin as he held her against the wall, then at his handprints on the wall and the spilled paint can on the floor.
“At least the carpet isn’t down yet,” he remarked, wiping his hands on his pants as he pulled them up.
“I’m scared to look at my hair.” Devlin nonetheless reached up to touch her hair, her hand coming away with paint on it.
“That’s the messiest thing I’ve done.” Gabe stood back and surveyed the wall, analyzing the abstract pattern their lovemaking had made. “Call me crazy, but I’d love to frame this spot and let people wonder what the hell happened here for the rest of eternity.”
Devlin turned to look. “You’re not kidding, we make some good art.”
“It’s abstract. I’ll call it Uncontrolled Attraction .”
“Ooh, that’s a good name for how we created it.”
Devlin stood there, motionless, not sure what to do with the mess she’d become or the pool of paint on the concrete floor.
“I’m sorry about your clothes. I thought we were against a dry wall but once I realized we weren’t, I couldn’t stop.”
“Then Uncontrolled Attraction is the correct title for what we left on that wall. I’m gonna just…” Her arms flailed. “I think these clothes are done for.”
“If they’re done for, I’ll help you get them off.”