Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Molly
I t’s the quiet that wakes me up in the morning.
The house is silent. Still in a way my own house never is. With the white noise machine I use at night, music playing at full blast when I’m awake, color everywhere, and the organized chaos of my living space, it never feels completely silent. Gabe’s house is the opposite. Neutral colors, everything in its place, quiet in sleep, music on low.
I’ve been too much for people my whole life. Too loud. Too bright. Too wild. It never really bothered me, but it was there, nonetheless. I was never too much for Gabe though. Despite his more orderly nature, he always embraced my chaos. Reveled in it. Enjoyed it in a way few people in my life ever have.
I didn’t realize how much I missed that. I didn’t realize how much I missed a lot of things about him. Watching movies. Talking. Laughing together. Existing in the same space. Kissing.
The kiss, holy god. It was so hot. When he grabbed the top of the door frame and leaned onto it, I had to hold myself back from climbing him like a fucking tree because no way would that have been a good idea. Not until we figure this out. Whatever this is.
“Pull yourself together, Molly,” I mutter, a little turned on just from the thought of the kiss and sick of the introspection portion of the morning. A glance at the clock tells me I still have a couple hours until my 10 AM meeting, so I toss back the covers, thinking of coffee.
I detour to the bathroom to brush my teeth and do my morning skincare. I may have a giant hole in the roof of my house, and I may be sleeping in my ex-boyfriend and current fake fiancé’s guest room right now, but I’ll be damned if my skin looks anything less than fantastically glowy. Step aside J-Lo.
The door to Gabe’s room is open, and a quick peek inside shows me matching, expensive-looking furniture and a perfectly made bed with a charcoal gray comforter. I snicker because it’s so in character for his bed to be immaculate and so opposite of my bed, which has twisted sheets in a heap on the mattress and the comforter half on the floor.
I sleep like I live. Way, way out loud.
I’m just walking down the stairs when the front door opens, and Gabe walks into the house. I stop cold at the foot of the stairs, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. He’s wearing navy sweats, and a gray T-shirt is stretched perfectly across his chest. His well-defined biceps and muscled forearms are so fucking sexy, and his black framed glasses are doing crazy things to my insides. The whole look is giving serious hot nerd, and I want to both cozy into him and jump his bones. It’s a wildly appealing combination.
He’s carrying two coffee cups and a paper bag, and when he sees me on the stairs, the way his face lights up has warmth curling in my stomach.
He looks so damn good, and god, I know I said I missed all the things, but the truth is that I just really fucking missed him .
He walks over to me and leans down, kissing me on the cheek. When he pulls back, he grins and hands me one of the cups.
“Rory. I really like seeing you in my house in the morning.”
I take a sip of what I already know is a peppermint mocha from my favorite coffee shop. “Don’t get used to it. After my meeting, I’m going to look around for rentals. I have no idea how long my house is going to take to fix, and I can’t impose on you for that long.”
Lies.
I super want to impose. Especially if he goes out for my favorite coffee every morning. I’m not saying I’m high maintenance, but I’m also not not saying that.
“About six weeks,” Gabe says, taking my free hand and leading me to the kitchen, pushing me towards one of the high stools at his counter.
“Six weeks for what?”
“Six weeks to get the tree off your house, fix the roof, and handle all the damage inside. My assistant just sent me the details.”
I gape at him. “The tree fell late last night, and it’s only seven-thirty in the morning. How can your assistant already have that information?”
Gabe leans forward, hands on the counter on either side of me, boxing me in. His ocean and pine scent wraps around me, and he’s close enough that I can see all the different shades of blue in his eyes and feel his breath flutter over my face when he talks. “I’m not sure if you heard, Rory, but I’m kind of a big deal. When I need something done, it gets done, and it doesn’t matter what time of the day or night it is.”
I swallow hard, uncharacteristically speechless, and turned the fuck on by this little display of alpha-captain of industry masculinity. The Gabe I used to know was mostly cheerful puppy dog. This added edge to him, sharpened by grief and success, really suits him.
It suits me too. Jesus Christ. I shift in my seat to make sure my underwear is still present and accounted for and hasn’t completely disintegrated.
“Nothing to say, Rory baby?” Gabe leans a little closer to me, eyes falling to where my pulse is no doubt fluttering in my neck from my pounding heart. Then he meets my eyes, mouth curling into a smirk. “That’s okay, I’ll just say one more thing. Don’t bother looking for a rental. You won’t need one. Your place is right here, with me.”
Okay. We’re doing possessive Gabe. That’s hot too. My feminism turns to dust and floats away, but I manage to keep hold of one tiny piece to put up a fight that sounds less than half-hearted, even to my own ears.
“Since when is my place with you? My place has always been with myself.”
Gabe leans in even more so he’s whispering in my ear when he speaks again. His voice is low and raspy. A shiver runs down my spine.
“Since I got to taste those perfect lips again. Hear you moan into my mouth. Put my hands on you and have yours on me. Call you my fiancée. Even though that part isn’t real, I still like it. I know what you’re thinking. What is this? What can it be? Is it just leftover feelings from before, or can there be something new here? What’s going to happen? I don’t know the answers to all of those questions yet either, but I sure am looking forward to finding them with you.”
Then he stands and winks at me, dropping a kiss to my nose and stepping back, a grin on his face.
“I have something for you.”
His quick mood shift has my brain working a thousand miles a minute to keep up. “You already brought me coffee.”
“It’s better than coffee.”
“Nothing is better than coffee,” I say, taking another sip of my perfect peppermint mocha. Some people might say peppermint mochas are a winter drink. Some people are wrong.
“This is.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. I draw in a sharp breath and rear back in my chair.
“What the fuck is that?”
He chuckles at my tone and flips open the top of the box. I literally gasp because what I’m looking at is the engagement ring of my dreams. It’s a round diamond set in a rose gold diamond band, and if all the engagement rings in the entire world were in front of me, this is the one I would pick every single time.
I gape up at Gabe, who is looking at me with a face full of amusement.
“Never seen an engagement ring before?”
“How did you know?” is all I can manage.
I have no idea how, but he seems to understand the question perfectly. He reaches out with his free hand and pushes a piece of hair behind my ear, trailing his fingers down my jaw. “I know you, Rory. I always have.”
His touch seems to bring me out of my daze, and I regain the power of speech. “Okay, but why is this here in your hand right now?”
“The whole point of this fake engagement is so your very important client won’t know we lied to Brad and, in turn, the entire world, about you being my fiancée. What do you think he’ll think if you show up to the meeting today without an engagement ring?”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” I mumble, irritated with myself that I hadn’t. I’m usually on top of shit like this. Gabe being back here is scrambling my brain.
“Well lucky for you, you have me.”
Gabe takes the ring out of the box and picks up my left hand, locking eyes with me. “Will you be my fake fiancée, Rory? I’d get down on one knee, but the thing is, I hope one day I get to propose to you for real, and I’d kind of like to save the one knee thing for when it’s real.”
I narrow my eyes at him, ignoring the way my stomach swoops at the thought of him down on one knee, proposing for real. “What makes you think you’ll be getting down on one knee for me?”
Gabe brings my left hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, keeping his eyes on me the whole time. “I told you, I’m manifesting. So, what do you say? Can I put this ring on your finger so you can go fake out asshole Brad and his very important uncle?”
I sigh. “How did you even get a ring so fast?”
“About the same way I already know it’ll take six weeks for your house to be finished.”
“I should really just stop asking questions like that, huh?”
Gabe kisses my hand again. Fuck, I like when he does that. “I hope you won’t. I love when you ask me questions. I just love the sound of your voice.”
“You know, when you say things like that, it makes it really hard to resist you.”
Gabe winks at me. “That’s my plan, Rory baby. Now, will you wear my ring?”
I huff out a breath. “Okay, yes, Jesus. I’ll wear the gorgeous, completely perfect ring. Stop begging.”
Gabe chuckles and slides the ring onto my finger. Of course, it’s the perfect fit.
“How did you know my ring size?”
He shrugs. “I texted Julie. She gave me her number in case I never needed it. I needed it for this.”
“You texted…” I trail off and then laugh, because everything about this is surreal and I have no idea what the fuck is going on.
Gabe keeps hold of my hand and grasps my chin with his other hand, forcing me to keep my eyes on him. “Rory, there is literally nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing. If it’s in my power to do it for you, I will. And I’m lucky enough that almost anything is in my power.”
I don’t have time to respond before he leans in and kisses my lips softly. It’s a quick kiss, but my body still buzzes with electricity.
“Now that that’s done, breakfast?”
His casual disposition, despite just putting a ring on my finger, is throwing me off base, which I’m sure is part of his plan. “I don’t eat breakfast.”
“You eat muffins,” he says, grabbing the paper bag and walking to the other side of the counter. Opening the bag, he takes out three muffins, setting them on a plate he grabs from the cabinet, and takes a knife out of a drawer. In a move I’ve seen him do a thousand times over our years together, he cuts each of the muffins in half and pushes the plate towards me so it’s between us. Then he puts a hand on my cheek, tipping my head up so my eyes meet his.
“Come on, Rory. Eat three halves of three different flavor muffins and drink your coffee and tell me all about your plans to kick dickwad Brad’s ass at your meeting later. I love having you in my house, and now you’re wearing my ring. Be here with me right now.”
With no reason not to, that’s exactly what I do.