Chapter 19 Lena
LENA
I know within three minutes that this date is a mistake.
Leo sits across from me in a button-down that still has fold marks on it, like he tore it out of the plastic in the car.
His hair is gelled so hard it could survive a tornado.
He leans back in the booth with the confidence of a man who thinks every woman on earth wants to sleep with him, and I already feel my soul drifting out of my body.
"So yeah," he says, picking up his beer. "Growing up an Army brat really shaped me. Dad had us moving every year, sometimes twice. Builds character. Teaches you discipline. Teaches you not to get attached." He taps his temple, proud of himself. "That's why I'm so grounded now."
Grounded. Right. He has not made eye contact with me for more than two seconds because he keeps checking out his reflection in the metal napkin dispenser.
I nod once. "Sounds intense."
"Oh, it was," he says, cutting me off before I can pretend to care more. "But it also explains why I'm a catch. Adaptable. Confident. Women love that."
Of course they do. I take a sip of my soda. No alcohol tonight. I need every brain cell awake to survive this.
Leo keeps talking without noticing I am not responding. "Dad always said I was the strongest out of all my brothers. Mindset. You know? You have to manifest success. You have to stay hungry."
My throat tightens. I don't know if it is the word hungry or the way his chest puffs out when he says it, but all I can think about is Gabe.
The way he tied Jace's shoes too tight and blushed when my boy complained.
The way he looked at me when I told him I was still going on this date.
Like the ground had opened under him and he had to pretend it did not.
Leo snaps his fingers to get the waiter's attention. "My dad said you're a single mom. Respect. Takes guts. Not everyone can handle that. My ex sure couldn't. Girl ate like a toddler and couldn't take care of anything."
My jaw tightens. "Your… ex ate like a toddler?"
He waves his hand. "Always snacking. Couldn't stay in shape. You know how it goes."
My stomach gives a slow roll. This is sounding more and more like my ex. The one who counted my calories like he owned them. The one who made me hate my own mirror. The one who tells women they owe the world thinness.
Leo leans forward. "But you look great. You look like you know how to take care of yourself. You look—"
I cut him off gently. "So… what brought you back to town?"
He grins like he's been waiting for someone to set up his punchline. "Honestly? Dating pool in the city is trash. Women only want guys with money and drive. I want something real. Something solid. A woman who knows her place. Someone who appreciates a man who puts in work."
There is a brief, violent fantasy where I fling my water at him. I push it aside.
"Right," I say. "Your place. Her place. Lots of places."
He laughs without seeing the edge in my voice. "You get it. See, I told my dad I'm looking to settle down, and he said you'd be perfect. He said you're smart and steady and not the type to get emotional. And you're pretty. More than pretty. Honestly, you're lucky someone like me is still single."
My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. Lucky.
Across the restaurant, someone laughs loudly.
It carries over the hum of dishes clinking and plates sliding.
That sound reminds me of Gabe too. The deep laugh he let out when Jace called the banana peel a monster.
The way his eyes warmed at me over breakfast, even when I was snapping at him.
Even when he knew I was crumbling inside.
I am sitting across from a man who calls himself a prize, while the man I want is probably pacing his Airbnb right now trying not to lose his mind.
Leo launches into another story about how tough he is. "Marvin says you're shy," he says. "Don't worry. I can get you out of that shell. Women relax around me. Something about my energy. Dad always said the world is better when a strong man takes the lead."
My mouth tastes like regret.
I nod once because I cannot trust myself to speak.
"Anyway," he says, reaching for his water. "Dad also said you're a good girl. Reliable. The kind of woman who understands her role in a relationship. Not needy. Not dramatic."
I blink slowly. "My… role."
He smiles at the straw in his cup. "Men lead. Women support. It's simple."
My brain begins constructing an escape plan. Set wallet on table. Pretend bathroom break. Sprint.
He leans in again. "So, what are you looking for, Lena? You want a good man? You want stability? I can give that to you. A woman like you deserves to feel chosen. And I'm a guy who knows how to choose right."
A woman like you.
I hear Gabe's voice instead. The low, steady one from this morning when he asked, "Why does this bother you so much?"
The voice that cracked when he saw how shaken I was.
The man who held my son's shoe like it was a fragile thing.
The man who looked at me like he wanted to put down roots for the first time in his life.
I know I should not think about him. I know why I told myself to come here. Let the gossip die. Keep the peace. Prove nothing is happening.
But something is happening. It has been happening since the day I walked away from him, and it never really stopped.
I clear my throat. "Leo, this has been—"
"Great," he interrupts with a wink. "I knew we'd click."
"We didn't."
He laughs like I made another joke. "You're funny. You know, most women are nervous on first dates with me. It's fine. It'll get easier."
I exhale slowly. "I'm going home."
He stares like he didn't hear it. "Already? Come on. Let's get one last drink at the bar. I know the bartender. He'll give us something strong. We can sit close. Talk real. You and me."
Every part of me tightens at once.
"No," I say. "I'm calling it a night. I'll pay for my half."
He frowns, confused and insulted. "You're serious? I cleared my night for this."
"I didn't ask you to," I say as I reach for my purse.
He watches me stand. His jaw shifts. "You sure you're not being dramatic?"
I smile without warmth. "I'm sure."
I turn and head toward the back hallway. I need space. I need a breath. Mostly, I need Gabe.
The bathroom door closes behind me, and the music from the restaurant dulls. My pulse thumps against my ribs. My hands shake as I pull out my phone.
My fingers hover over his name.
Gabe.
The man who looked at me like I mattered.
The man who kissed me like I was something he lost and finally found.
The man who will probably implode when he sees this text.
I type before I can rethink it.
I miss you. I'm sorry.
My thumb hits send. I stare at the screen, stomach twisting. Then someone knocks on the bathroom door, and my whole body jumps. Grimacing, I open it to find Leo standing there, his ridiculously big lips curled into a smirk. "Thought you could use the company."
"This is the ladies' section," I reply, fighting to keep the rage and disgust from my voice. He's giving me the ick. "Did you get lost?"
He laughs lazily and steps in, blocking my exit. "Let's say I did. What you gonna do about it? I know you've been wanting me all night long."
I'd be terrified if I weren't overcome by the urge to laugh.
I try to walk around him. "Move."
"No," he says. "We're not done." He plants his hand on the frame again. "Come on, Lena. Don't be dramatic. Let's have one more drink and see where the night goes."
"The night's going home without you," I say, shifting to pass him.
He slides sideways and blocks me again. "Why are you acting like this? I'm being nice."
I stare up at him. "You don't know me."
He laughs under his breath. "I don't need to know you to see that you're starving for male attention. Now you're running off like—"
I punch him.
I don't even think about it. My fist just flies. It connects with his throat first, because I'm shorter than him and misjudged the angle. He chokes, bends forward, and that gives me a perfect line to his jaw.
I hit him again.
He yelps like a kicked dog and falls against the wall, hands flying up to protect whatever pride he has left. His face turns a blotchy pink. His eyes water. His mouth falls open.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he sputters.
"My bad," I say. "My hand slipped. Twice."
He glares at me through one eye. The other is already swelling. "You're crazy."
"You're in my way," I answer.
He tries to stand straighter, but the pain won't let him. He grabs the wall and groans. "You can't hit people!"
"Oh, relax," I say, walking around him. "It was barely a tap."
His jaw hangs open as I head for the exit. I can still hear him choking behind me. Small joy sparks in my chest. I haven't felt that awake in months.
When I reach the front of the restaurant, I stop so fast, my heels squeak on the tile.
Gabe is there.
He's leaning on the wall near the door, hands in his pockets, jacket open just enough to show the solid line of his chest. His hair is mussed like he's been raking his fingers through it. His eyes lock on mine the second I step forward.
Everything inside me jumps.
His gaze sweeps down my face, my dress, my chest, my hands. He notices the way my fists are still tight. He looks behind me next, and I can see the moment he realizes something happened.
Leo limps out from the hallway, jaw bright red, hand clutching his throat. Gabe's expression shifts a little, the way it always did when he checked the perimeter during missions he once told me about. He sees Leo's face. He sees my face. He puts it together in less than a second.
A slow grin stretches across his mouth.
"Good evening," he says.
Leo freezes when he sees Gabe. Panic flickers in his face. He looks at me, then at Gabe, then at me again.
"You didn't tell me you were with him," Leo snaps.
"I'm not with anyone," I say.
Gabe lifts a brow at me. He doesn't comment.
Leo points at him. "He's old enough to be your uncle."
"Leave," Gabe says quietly.
Leo squares his shoulders. "She hit me!"
Gabe turns slightly, just enough to let Leo see the size difference. "Leave."
Leo mutters something and backs away so fast, he almost trips on a chair.
When he's gone, I face Gabe.
"You followed me," I say.
"Yes," he says.
I wait for him to explain. He doesn't. He just watches me like he's trying to figure out if I'm going to yell or kiss him.
"I should be mad," I say.
"You should," he says softly.
"I'm not."
He nods once. "Good."
My stomach tightens.
"I didn't follow you to control anything," he adds. "I just wanted to be nearby in case you needed backup." He glances toward the bathroom hallway. "And you handled that better than any backup could."
Heat crawls up my neck. "He tried to touch me."
Gabe's jaw clicks. His shoulders tighten. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," I say. "Better now."
He closes his eyes once, like that's all he needed to hear. When he opens them again, they're darker. Focused. Intent.
"Come with me," I say.
His brows lift. "Where?"
"My car."
He pushes off the wall. "Lead the way."
I walk out of the restaurant into the cool air.
Gabe follows a few steps behind, hands loose at his sides, body ready for anything.
A few people stare, but he ignores them.
When we reach my car, I open the door. He doesn't wait for an invitation.
He slips into the passenger seat, quiet and steady, watching me sit down in the driver's seat.
We don't speak. I start the engine, pull out of the parking lot, and drive toward the small turnoff near the woods. The road is empty. My heart thumps too loudly.
When I park, the night settles around us. The quiet feels charged.
Gabe turns toward me. "Tell me what you want."
"I want you," I whisper.
He takes my jaw in a hard grip and hauls me against him, kissing me like he wants my taste all over his tongue, kissing me like he is ready to bend me over the seat and fuck the need out of me right here if I let him.
I climb over the console and onto his lap, my dress sliding up my thighs. His hands go to my hips and pull me tight against him. His mouth is hungry and sure, kissing me like he's been starving for years. I grind down on him, and he groans into my mouth.
"You're driving me crazy," he mutters, voice rough. "You walk into a room, and I lose every thought I have."
I kiss him again, deeper. "Touch me."
His hands slide under my dress and grip my ass, lifting me into a better position. I rock against him. Heat floods between my legs. His grip tightens.
"You're mine tonight," he says.
My breath shudders. "Then take me."
He kisses down my neck, slow and focused. I tug at his shirt, wanting him pressed against me, wanting his hands everywhere. His fingers slip between my thighs, finding me wet through my panties.
"You're soaked," he whispers, voice shaking slightly. He hooks his fingers under the edge of my panties and slides them aside.
I gasp when he touches me.
His fingers slide in and my body arches. He kisses me again, deep and forceful, while his fingers push deeper. Then he pulls back, breathing hard, eyes locked on mine.
He unzips his jeans. "Come sit on my cock," he says.