Chapter 64
Loop over, pull through. Loop over, pull through.
I was crocheting with the intensity of a woman going to war.
My project? It was supposed to be a scarf. But right now, it looked like a very angry, very tangled purple snake. It reflected my soul!
I was sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace. Primrose was sleeping beside me, dreaming of Swiss cheese.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of black socks approach.
Gabriel.
He knelt down beside me. He didn't touch me (good!). He placed a glass of warm milk on the coffee table.
"Drink," he said softly.
Hmph.
I ignored him. I focused on my purple snake. Stab the yarn. Pull.
I wanted the milk! It smelled like vanilla and warmth! And my bones need calcium! But I have principles! I am a Mad Wife! Mad Wives do not accept dairy beverages from their husbands!
Gabriel sighed. He sat down on the floor, crossing his long legs. He sat just close enough that I could feel his body heat, but far enough that I couldn't accuse him of crowding me.
"What are you making?" he asked.
I didn't look up. "I don't know."
"It looks like... a very long sock," he observed.
"It is a mood," I corrected coldly.
Gabriel went quiet. He is not good at small talk. He is good at Big Talk. Like "Sign this contract" or "Let's hijack a plane."
He drummed his fingers on his knee. Tap. Tap.
"I was reading about your... interests," he started suddenly.
My ears perked up. My interests? Like yarn? Or Hello Kitty?
"That boy band," Gabriel continued, his voice monotone, like he was reading a shipping manifest. "EXO."
I stopped crocheting. I looked at him suspiciously.
"Yes?" I narrowed my eyes. "What about them?"
"I looked at the photos," Gabriel said, keeping his face perfectly straight. "I do not understand the hierarchy. But logically speaking..."
He paused for dramatic effect.
"That one... D.O.," he said the name carefully. "He has a more symmetrical face structure. He is objectively more handsome than the other one. Kai."
...
...
CRACK.
That was the sound of my sanity snapping.
My jaw dropped. My crochet hook slipped from my fingers.
"EXCUSE ME?!" I shrieked.
I turned my whole body to face him.
"Did you just say... D.O. is more handsome than KAI?!"
Gabriel blinked innocently. "Is that incorrect?"
"INCORRECT IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT!" I yelled, waving my purple snake in the air. "It is BLASPHEMY! It is a CRIME against visuals!"
I scrambled to my knees, getting in his face.
"Listen to me, Gabriel Muratori! D.O. is cute! He is squishy! He has vocals like honey! But KAI?!"
I gasped for air.
"Kai is the Dancing Machine! He is the center! His face card never declines! He has that jawline! And the abs! And the way he smirks! He is ethereal! He is art! He is the Renaissance painted in human form!"
I was rambling. I knew I was rambling. But I couldn't stop!
"You cannot compare them! It's apples and oranges! But Kai is like... a golden apple! A shiny, sexy apple!"
I picked up my needle again and stabbed the air aggressively.
"You need to get your eyes checked! Maybe the logistics blinded you! D.O. is handsome, yes, but Kai is... ugh! You just don't get it!"
I started crocheting again, my hands moving at the speed of light. Stab. Loop. Pull.
"Unbelievable," I muttered. "My husband has zero taste. Zero!"
I was fuming!
I looked up to glare at him again.
And I froze.
Gabriel wasn't arguing. He wasn't looking at pictures of Kai to verify my claims. He was leaning forward, his elbow resting on his knee, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. He was staring at me.
And his lips... his usually straight, grumpy line of a mouth... were stretched into a smirk.
Not a mocking smirk.
A soft, amused, almost... adoring smirk.
His eyes were crinkling at the corners. He looked like he was watching his favorite movie.
"What?" I snapped, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Why are you looking at me like that? Are you admitting defeat?"
Gabriel didn't move his head.
"You are very passionate," he murmured.
He slowly stretched out his other hand.
His fingers brushed my cheek. He caught a loose strand of hair that had fallen into my face during my rant and tucked it gently behind my ear.
His fingertips lingered on my earlobe. They were warm. Rough. Electric.
My breath hitched.
My anger deflated like a popped balloon.
"Stop touching me," I whispered weakly, looking back down at my yarn.
I tried to crochet, but my hands were shaking. Stab. Miss. Loop. Miss.
"I cannot help it," Gabriel said, his voice dropping an octave. It vibrated in my chest. "Your mouth moves very fast when you are angry. It is fascinating."
He leaned a little closer.
"I am addicted to your lips, Aleesha."
BOOM.
My face exploded. I felt the heat rush from my neck to my hairline. I must look like a tomato! A ripe, Swiss tomato!
Addicted to my lips?!
Who says that?! Is this a K-drama?!
"Ugh!" I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. I hate him! I hate himvery very much! "You are trying to distract me from the Kai issue!"
Gabriel chuckled. A low, sexy sound.
"Is it working?"
"NO!"
I grabbed the glass of milk. I lifted the glass and downed it in one gulp. Glug. Glug. Glug.
I slammed the empty glass back onto the table. CLINK.
I wiped a milk mustache off my lip.
"Happy?" I asked sarcastically. "I drank the calcium! Are you satisfied, Logistician?"
Gabriel's smirk widened. He nodded slowly.
"Very."
He uncrossed his legs and stood up fluidly. He towered over me.
"I am going to take a shower," he announced.
He started walking toward the stairs.
Then, he paused.
He turned back to look at me over his shoulder. His eyes traveled down my body and back up to my red face.
"Would you like to join me?" he asked casually. "To... continue the debate?"
My eyes widened until they almost fell out of my head.
Join him?!
Naked?!
WAAAH!
"PERVERT!" I screamed.
I grabbed the nearest object—my ball of purple yarn—and threw it at him with all my might!
"GO AWAY!"
The yarn ball sailed through the air like a cannonball.
Gabriel didn't flinch. He didn't duck. He simply raised his hand and caught it.
Snatch.
Graceful. Effortless. Like a ninja catching a fly. He looked at the yarn in his hand. Then he looked at me. He placed the yarn gently on the railing of the stairs.
"I will leave the door unlocked," he teased softly.
Then he walked up the stairs, disappearing into the loft.
I sat there, frozen on the rug. My heart was pounding like a drum solo. Thump-thump-thump-thump.
"I hate him," I whispered to Primrose. "I hate him so much."
But why was I smiling? Huhu! I am a traitor to my own anger!
★
Dinner was quieter.
Gabriel cooked (again). Pasta Carbonara. It was creamy and delicious.
We sat at the small wooden table.
"Is the pasta acceptable?" Gabriel asked, pouring himself a glass of water.
"It is edible," I lied. (It was heavenly!).
We ate in silence for a few minutes. I was busy thinking about Kai's abs versus Gabriel's abs (hypothetically!).
BZZZT.
Gabriel's phone vibrated on the table between us.
Usually, he ignores it during dinner.
But the screen lit up.
I glanced at it. I couldn't help it! I am a spy in training!
The rest was cut off.
Mosor?
What is a Mosor? Is it a cheese? A type of wine?
Gabriel stopped chewing. He saw the notification.
He cleared his throat. It was a sharp sound.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up abruptly.
"Excuse me, Aleesha," he said. His voice was no longer the teasing husband voice. It was the CEO voice. "I must take this."
He picked up the phone.
He didn't answer it in the kitchen. He walked to the front door, opened it, and stepped out onto the porch.
I watched him through the window.
It was dark outside. I could only see his silhouette pacing back and forth. He was gesturing with his hand. He looked... intense.
My curiosity was itching!
Emergency. That sounds bad.
Five minutes later, the door opened.
Gabriel walked back in. The cold air followed him.
He sat back down. He picked up his fork. He acted like nothing happened.
But I saw a tiny tension in his jaw.
"Gabby?" I asked innocently, twirling my pasta.
"Yes?"
"What is... Mosor?" I blinked my big eyes. "Is it a dessert?"
Gabriel froze for a millisecond. He looked at me. He seemed to be calculating something.
Then, he smiled. A small, reassuring smile.
"No, not a dessert," he said smoothly. "Mosor is... a rival logistics company. Based in Eastern Europe."
He took a sip of water.
"They are trying to block one of our routes. It is a common business dispute. Boring paperwork."
"Oh," I nodded.
A rival company. That makes sense! Just like Coca-Cola and Pepsi! They fight over trucks!
"That sounds stressful," I said sympathetically. "You should tell them to be nice! Sharing is caring!"
Gabriel's lips quirked.
"I will attempt to convey that message," he said dryly. "Eat your pasta, Aleesha. It is getting cold."
I nodded and took a big bite.
Rival company.
See? Innocent! Just boring business stuff!
But deep inside... a tiny part of my brain wondered why a rival company named Mosor caused an "Emergency" at 8 PM in Switzerland.
I bit my lip.
Just Logistics, Just boring, grumpy logistics.