Chapter Twelve #2
Gabe accepted the suit, ducking his head to hide from Carson’s direct gaze. “I appreciate this, man. I’d better not keep her waiting.”
Gabe was halfway to the door when Carson called out. “Hey!”
He turned.
“I’m happy for you.”
He didn’t expect that to hit as hard as it did.
In the tiny bathroom, he stripped fast and changed into the suit. It fit damn near as well as his Marine Corps dress blues. He buttoned the cuffs, smoothed the jacket and caught his reflection in the small mirror over the vanity.
He didn’t recognize himself for a second.
His pulse kicked as a new realization swirled in his mind.
It wasn’t the mountain air making changes in him, smoothing away the lines carved by years of battle and the PTSD that followed.
It wasn’t being on the ranch that put a new gleam of happiness in his eyes.
Tonight wasn’t about dinner.
It was about what came next. About the woman in the little black dress…and every step he wanted to take with her after tonight.
He passed Carson’s office on the way to the exit. Carson gave him a quick once-over. “She’s going to forget her own name.”
Gabe shot him a grin. “That’s the plan.”
* * * * *
Felicity stood waiting for Gabe, her fingers twisting in front of her each time her sister’s words rolled through her mind.
No one was sure how long Gabe was going to stick around. He came in the middle of the night with no plans for how long he would stay or what he wanted to do beyond right now.
It made her nervous, thinking that she could be getting in too deep with the sexy and sweet Marine. Especially with the rest of her life hanging in the balance. In a very short time, he’d become her rock.
She heard a door close and turned toward the sound.
The instant Felicity saw Gabe in that deep gray suit, with his too-long hair brushing the edge of the crisp shirt collar, her ovaries exploded.
Her insides clutched with every step he took toward her, with the way the pants hugged his muscular thighs and the jacket pulled just right across his chest.
The night just got better when the hostess at Prairie Ember led them to a small table near the windows. For a second, Felicity felt like she’d stepped into one of the novels she shelved every week.
Golden light enclosed them in a private cocoon. Real linen tablecloths and heavy silverware gleaming in the candlelight created an enticing backdrop for what was sure to be a fantastic meal, and a vase with a single white rose sat in the center of the table, the petals unfurled.
And across from her the best part…Gabe in the suit.
The jacket fit him perfectly, molding over his broad shoulders. He’d shaved too, his jaw a clean, strong line that made him even more devastatingly handsome than usual. Each time his gaze locked with hers, the throb in her core increased.
The server came and went, taking drink orders and mentioning specials. Felicity heard maybe half of it, too aware of the way Gabe’s dark eyes followed her like she was the only person in the room.
She lifted her water glass and realized her hand shook a little.
Not from nerves, exactly—from whatever was growing between her and Gabe.
She could only compare it to the slight unsteadiness she’d seen in Rhae’s hand on her and Denver Malone’s wedding day.
The reaction of a woman so overcome with emotions, there was no other outlet for it.
The candle flickered, casting shadows over Gabe’s rugged features, catching the amber flecks in his dark eyes and painting over the small scar by his jaw.
Talk flowed with the wine they ordered. She told him about a time she’d nearly dropped an entire tray of hors d’oeuvres on the mayor of Willowbrook at a charity event.
“You didn’t.” His tone sounded with equal parts horror and delight.
“Oh, I did.” She couldn’t help laughing. “The tray tilted. Three bacon-wrapped figs went rogue. One of them hit the floor. One landed in the mayor’s wine, and the last one…stuck to his tie. Right in the middle.”
Gabe’s low laugh rolled across the table, the rugged sexiness snagging on her every nerve. At a nearby table, two ladies sitting with a small group of diners turned their heads to look at Felicity’s date, obviously appreciating the sound of his laugh too.
She cast a glance around the restaurant. Two men toward the back of the room were looking at her. For a second, her mind went to the darkest place.
Everyone in town knew her, or knew of her, but she’d never seen these men before. What were they doing in town?
What if they were responsible for her shop, her car, the missing journal?
She shifted, uncomfortable.
Then Gabe twisted, following her gaze. The men turned their attention to their meals.
Gabe touched her hand, a stroke of a fingertip across her knuckles that strummed a deep part of her body and ignited it with that current of desire. She shook off the shadows that had no business interrupting this night.
She propped her chin on her hand. “Tell me something about you.”
He sent another look at the men before fixing her in his stare.
“You just want to hear about the time my sister Lu and I…” He launched into a story about them getting into trouble as kids, and how his sister always took the fall for him until one day, he took the fall for her mistake, and he hadn’t even been present at the time it happened.
Felicity found herself laughing at the tale. That led to a story about her and Honor’s childhood, followed by some jokes about the Malones and a lot of looks that lasted too long.
She caught herself watching his hands—how he cut his steak and wrapped his fingers around his wine glass. She imagined those hands on her again, spread over her hips, braced under her bottom as he moved inside her.
She clenched her thighs under the table. By the time dessert came, a slice of torte they’d agreed to share, her skin felt too tight. Not with fear from those men who stared at her—from the intense throbbing awareness of the amazing man seated across from her.
Of where this night could go. Of the fact that every moment with him made the possibility of losing him all the more terrifying.
The rest of dinner passed in a blur, and pretty soon they were back at the Black Heart Ranch. As they entered the library, Gabe’s warm fingers stretched across the small of her back, leaving her with the promise of more to come.
The library door shut with a little more force than they expected, causing objects around the room to vibrate, and they shared a laugh.
She caught his hand and drew it to her waist. He latched onto her as if he’d been waiting for this moment all night long. At the same time she went on tiptoe, face tipped up for his kiss, he was dipping his mouth to hers.
The kiss was a tender brushing of lips that ignited more than the fire of need inside her.
It lit up her heart like a sunrise over the mountain.
She was falling in love with Gabe. And the way he searched her eyes made her wonder if he felt the same way.
“Gabe—” The words cut off as one of the nearby stacks of boxes wobbled. The box of Henry’s books started to topple. She reached out, but Gabe was faster, lunging to catch the box before it hit the floor.
The book she’d placed so reverently on top of the stack—the special one that Henry wanted her to have most—tumbled off.
She gasped. Then the tome dropped into Gabe’s hand.
She plastered a hand over her pounding heart. “Oh! Thank you for catching that.”
He adjusted his grip on the book, a frown forming between his brows.
She stepped forward. “What happened? The binding didn’t loosen, did it? It’s old. Really old.”
“That’s not it.” He ran his finger down the spine. “Feels like something’s in the spine.”
Heart squeezing, she reached for the book. She wasn’t wearing gloves, but there wasn’t time to find them.
He gently placed the book in her hands. The old leather cover looked the same. But when she touched the spine, she felt it too—an unnatural thickness.
Her gaze shot to his. “What is it?”
His lips tightened, and he shook his head. “I don’t know.”
She stared at the ridge beneath the leather, tracing the outline with her thumb. “Henry, what did you do?” she whispered.
She pressed the base, and the thickness slid upward. She let out a gasp as a small, metal object dropped straight into her open palm.
A key.
Her breath left her in a rush.
It laid on her skin, gold, with three engraved numbers at the top.
“Is that—” Her voice came out thin.
“Safe-deposit box key.” He leaned in, eyes narrowed.
Her heart thumped. “Okay. Say you’re right. How do I know what bank it belongs to?”
He jerked his gaze to hers. “Give me the letter.”
She blinked. “Henry’s letter?”
“Yes.”
She rushed to find it, tucked into the pocket of the bag she brought with her to stay on the ranch. Her hands trembled as she pulled out the folded letter and smoothed it out.
Gabe accepted it and moved to the sofa. “Do you have a notebook? Pen?”
She snapped out of her daze. “Of course.” She rummaged in her handbag and grabbed both items she carried with her everywhere in case some idea struck. She set these on the sofa next to Gabe, but he was already reading. Studying the words.
She watched his lips move slightly as his eyes tracked the lines. Then he flipped open the book cover and carefully thumbed to a page. His focus absolute.
She knew the note by heart, she’d already read it so many times.
Dearest Felicity,
Ever since my health began to fail, I’ve been making my peace with things.
None of the doctors can tell me why I’m declining, but I’ve stopped searching for answers.
Very early on I knew the Wollstonecraft was yours as much as mine.
Even now, as I write this, I want to be sure your dream stays alive.
Remember that you were always the heart of this place.
Your friend,
Henry
314
Then he started scribbling on the notepad. “It’s an acrostic puzzle.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my god! Henry left a code?”
She stared at what he’d written down, heart pounding. The first letter of each sentence formed a word. DENVER.
“How did you even see that?”
“Basic codebreaking. What I don’t know is what this number means. 314. Do you know?”
She shook her head. “I wondered, but I can’t connect the number to him in any way. It’s not his house number. Not a part of his phone number. I even wondered if it could be the amount he paid for the Wollstonecraft at auction, but that’s not it either. And it’s not on the key.”
He went quiet again, scribbling, occasionally counting under his breath. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and looked up at her with a slow grin. “It’s the bank address.”
He placed the key in her hand and closed her fingers around it. “He wanted you to have whatever’s in this box, bookshop.”
Her pulse beat in her ears. “Now what do we do?”
His smile was back, brighter than the sun. “Wanna go to Denver?”