Chapter 13
Tori
The elation of picking up my wedding dress had diminished through the evening.
Gabe had returned from his walk and, upon finding me naked in bed just like he’d requested, had torn his clothes off and taken me with a passion that had left me riding wave after wave of ecstasy.
He hadn’t let up until my body was putty in his hands.
It almost seemed like he would never touch me again and needed to fill himself.
I stood in the doorway, watching as he stared blankly at his phone while he sat shirtless on the couch.
Something was wrong, and I was certain it had to do with the call from his sister.
The pizza he’d ordered for us sat untouched in front of him, his half-empty beer bottle next to it.
I’d never seen him so distant and worry gnawed at me.
Determined to bring him back to the present, I went back into the bedroom and searched through the bins at the bottom of my closet.
Pulling out a pack of colored paper and two pairs of scissors, I returned to the living room.
The pack thudded onto the coffee table, jerking him from his thoughts. Hazel eyes that no longer held their sparkle looked back at me. They roamed my body before lifting back to mine. A quirk of a smile formed, giving me some hope that he was still in there.
“You know you look entirely too sexy when you walk around in my T-shirts.”
I dropped next to him, my hip bumping his thigh. “Don’t get any ideas. You just wore me out for the next week.”
“Too bad because I was planning to bury my face between your legs the rest of the night.”
“You’re naughty,” I said, noting how even his playfulness seemed off.
He took my hand and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles.
“I love you, Tori, please never question that. I will always love you.” His expression was so serious that fear crawled up my spine.
“Gabe, what’s wrong? Ever since you talked to your sister, you’ve been acting off.”
His eyes flicked from mine, a grimace drawing his lips down. “Nothing. It’s fine.” He turned his body toward me and cupped my face in his hands. “Tori, I need…” I watched as he slowly unraveled, and I couldn’t help him because I had no idea what was wrong.
“What? Is there something you want to tell me? Another secret?”
Darkness crossed his eyes, the change pronounced. “No, it’s nothing,” he muttered, dropping his hands. “What are you planning to do with the paper and scissors?” Another mood shift and a sexy tug at his lips. “Something kinky?”
I stared at him, trying to read the man I loved, who was so hard to read sometimes.
Who still kept secrets from me that I allowed because I knew he loved me too much to let those secrets ever hurt me.
He glanced back at me, the hardness that had been there moments before gone.
There was something in that look that pleaded with me not to push him, and I relented.
Smiling, I said, “Get your mind out of the gutter,” playfully nudging him. “We’re making paper flowers for the wedding.”
I leaned over and picked the paper and scissors up. Handing him a pair and a few sheets of paper, I tried to ignore how he had flinched when I’d mentioned the wedding.
“You know, we can afford real flowers, right?” he asked, his brow raised.
“Of course, I do. These are to decorate the tables. A little something special to represent our love.”
“Wait, we’re going to make bouquets of paper flowers for every table?”
I laughed at his horror. “Not all at once. We have two months. So we make a little every night, and we’ll have enough by April.”
Again, the slight drop in his mood. Something was bothering him about the wedding, and I suspected his sister was behind it.
“Watch and learn,” I told him, folding my paper like my mother had taught me when I was young and we would spend rainy days making crafts.
Gabe kept his focus on making the flowers, avoiding my eyes and keeping silent. By the time my fingers were sore, we had a pile of various colors and types. I picked up a pink one shaped like a daisy and handed it to him.
“This one will go on our table. Now pick one.”
He took the daisy from me, his eyes suddenly so sad that it caused my chest to hurt. He clung to it while he picked up a yellow daisy he had made. It was a mirror of mine, and I took it from him, tears pricking at my eyes.
“Two halves of a shared heart,” he said. “You will always own my heart, luna mia. There will never be a time when it doesn’t belong to you. I promise you that.”
My chest tightened, something nudging me that this moment was one I would look back at forever, that our paper flowers would be with us until they grew faded and worn.
“I love you, Gabe.”
“I know.” Hand wrapping around my neck, he brought me forward, our lips touching and reigniting the fire in me. Our flowers fell as he scooped me up and took me back to the bedroom, where he spent the rest of the night worshiping me.
I worried about Gabe during my entire shift the next day.
He’d barely let me leave that morning, ravaging me before I could get out of bed and then grabbing me as I left the apartment, kissing me like the world was ending.
His stamina had always been amazing, but I couldn’t help but think he was desperately trying to get as much of me as he could before some expiration date.
I texted him repeatedly throughout the day, but his replies seemed forced, especially when I called and asked about what he’d been up to when I was on my lunch break.
“Just working,” he said, his voice distant.
“Are you sitting in front of those computer screens again?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away, but when he did, I couldn’t hide my shock. “They won’t be here when you get home.” There was regret in his tone along with guilt.
“Why? What happened?”
He worked nonstop. Even on his days off, he would spend time on his computer. Monitoring his investments was the only answer he gave when I questioned him.
“I… I should spend more time with you and not on my computer.” The answer sounded false, and I scratched my head trying to figure out what he was doing. “I sold the monitors today, and I’ve got the hard drive loaded in my car to drop off at a recycle center.”
I knew my mouth was gaping, but I was at a loss for words.
“It’s fine, Tori. It takes up too much of my time anyway, and you deserve more of it.” His voice cracked on the last words. “I need to go. I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Okay. Gabe…”
“Yeah.”
“I love you.”
“I know. I love you, too.”
The conversation replayed in my mind as I finished my shift, and when I walked into the apartment, the empty spot in the corner of our room confirmed he had indeed removed his computer as well as his desk and chair. The only things besides his clothes he had brought with him when he’d moved in.
I tossed my shoes into the closet, relieved when I saw his clothes were still there and chastising myself for letting that doubt creep into my mind.
Changing into a T-shirt, I left my jeans on, glad Saturdays were casual days.
I tied my hair into a ponytail and walked into the other room, just as Gabe was walking in.
His smile was like a summer shower, reinvigorating me and erasing the unsettling sense of foreboding that had crawled over my skin.
“I tried to beat you home,” he said, dropping a shopping bag on the counter and scooping me into his arms. His kiss left me in a puddle before he turned back to the bag.
Emptying it, he said, “I’m cooking tonight.
You’re going to sit and put your feet up.
My only request is that you load up Lord of the Rings so we can watch while we eat. ”
“LOTR tonight? What’s the special occasion?” I teased, resting my elbows on the counter while I watched him.
Hazel with shades of amber met my eyes. His smile dropped but returned just as quickly, leaving me to puzzle over where it had gone.
“I want to spoil you tonight.” He sized up my jeans and T-shirt, his brows crinkling. “I’m adding a request. I want you in your underwear and my T-shirt again. That look is enough to drive me mad.”
I shook my head as I laughed. “And you want me to drive you mad?”
“Definitely.” He turned to the stove, rattling around in the pans.
“Go on, get that ass moving and plant it on the couch. If you’re standing here with it sticking out like that when you’re in nothing but my T-shirt, I’m gonna burn the food while I use this counter in ways I don’t think the builders anticipated. ”
And my cocky, sexy man was back. Heat warmed my cheeks as I ran into the bedroom. Slipping my clothes and my bra off, I grabbed the T-shirt I’d had on the night before.
“You sure you want me over here?” I asked, walking toward the sofa.
“Damn it,” he muttered, and I heard a can drop on the counter.
His hands were lifting me and dragging me back to the kitchen before I could even let out a squeal.
Planting me on it, he shoved my legs apart and stood between them, ensuring I could feel how turned on he was.
“Guess I’ll need an appetizer before dinner. ”
I fisted his shirt and pulled him to me, our lips meeting in a heated kiss that set my body on fire.
His hands were greedy, his kisses hungry, just like he’d been the night before.
Desperate and frenzied. He tore my shirt from me, flinging it across the kitchen before lighting sparks in me with his touches.
Working his shirt off, I smoothed my hand over his chest, relishing his strength as he jerked me forward and his fingers drilled into me.
My head went back, his fingers working their magic while his mouth devoured my breasts.
I stood no chance. He had my body at his command, and my climax shredded me.
Capturing my cry with his kiss, he removed his fingers, tangling them in my hair just as he penetrated me.
I rode the remnants of my climax as he tore into me, eclipsing me with his desire.
His body moved with forceful thrusts and needy touches until my release soared, washing through me just as he broke, filling me with a growl that rumbled through his chest and claimed any remaining pieces that had slipped past his original claim.
Head dipping, his hand encased the back of my neck as if in an assertion of ownership. His eyes met mine, and in them I saw a myriad of emotions I couldn’t pinpoint. His kiss left me devastated. There was so much emotion in it that I clung to his arms.
Planting a peck on my forehead, he said, “Take that sexy body into the other room before I skip dinner and make you my main course the rest of the night.”
My breath caught at the power of his words, the dominating tone that had my insides knotting. He backed away, tucking himself back into his pants while his eyes skimmed over my naked body. “You’re too perfect, Tori. Too fucking perfect.”
He picked my shirt up and helped me put it back on, his touches tender again.
Holding my cheek, his gaze was intense. No words, just a look that told me everything he needed to.
Helping me off the counter, he returned to prepping dinner, watching me from the kitchen when I came back out from cleaning up.
His sight remained on me the entire time he cooked and even when he brought my favorite gnocchi dish over so we could eat, they never left me.
Again, the sensation that he was soaking in all he could from me was there.
We ate on the couch and curled up afterwards to watch the movie.
Our paper flowers were now in a vase on the coffee table, a touch he must have added when I’d been at work.
A symbol of us, two halves of the same heart, sharing space in our love for one another.
An unbreakable love that I knew would never die.
That night, he made love to me. His touches slow, the frenzied need gone and in its place deliberate and reverent touches. As I came undone around him, he joined me, his climax chasing mine while he murmured, “Ti amo, luna mia,” in my ear. The whispered words echoed through my mind long after.