Chapter 10 #2
The nonfiction books were outnumbered by fiction of seemingly every genre—mystery, horror, fantasy and science fiction, literary classics, westerns.
But to Gabriela’s surprise, the majority of those books were romances.
There were historicals, contemporaries, fantasies, and paranormals, most of which were all uniform in size.
But there were a few that stood taller and appeared newer than the rest, though they’d still clearly been well read.
She drew one off the shelf and turned the cover toward her. Upon it was a sexy, bare-chested man covered in stripes with a woman peering out from behind him, her hand poised precariously close to his groin. The title read, Have Tail, Will Travel.
Did that mean the man had a tail?
Gabby returned the book to the shelf, tucking the title away in her memory for later, and moved her hand to the thicker book next to it called The Bridal Hunt.
The cover featured a gasping woman and a…
a white-furred man behind her? Gabriela turned the book to read the back.
Her brows nearly shot to her hairline. An abominable snow beastie? As the love interest?
“I will be coming back to you later,” she said, intrigued, as she put the book back in its place.
Alien and monster romances? She hadn’t known such things existed! Perhaps it was time for her to take up reading again.
There was another book sitting on the shelf, lying on its back with a bookmark sticking out of it. Prisoner of My Desire. Gabriela grinned.
My mountain man reads romance.
Something about that was utterly endearing, all the more so because it was something she’d discovered about the man who wanted to claim her.
Gabriela glanced at the clock. Only thirty minutes had passed since Mason left. Anxiousness fluttered in her stomach as she turned her face toward the front window, as though that could somehow make his truck appear in the driveway.
He said a couple hours, Gabby. He’s not coming back yet.
Still…she wanted him here. She wanted to watch him interact with her daughter, wanted to talk with him, touch him, be touched by him.
“Slow down, Gabby…” she muttered, and set about dusting the rest of the living room.
Once that was done, and all the wood surfaces had been polished to a shine, she checked one of the closed doors off the short hallway and discovered a mostly empty bedroom.
There were only a couple old pieces of furniture within, including a vintage end table—the kind that had a little raised section on the back.
Four cardboard boxes were stacked in the corner, the flaps open on one of them.
Gabriela peered inside to find more books.
Maybe Mason wouldn’t accept money as repayment, but whenever she was able to afford it, Gabby guessed another bookcase or two would make a great gift for him.
She dusted the room—mainly the blinds—and, with little else to do in there, moved on to the master bedroom.
She cleaned the master bathroom first and was about to unpack the toiletries they’d purchased, but she decided it was better to hold off on that.
There was a chance Mason would have Gabriela and Ana use the guest bathroom so he could have his own space again; she didn’t want to presume anything in that regard.
Returning to the bedroom, she paused and surveyed her surroundings.
Gabby hadn’t really had a good look at the room last night.
She’d been exhausted both physically and mentally and had registered little but Mason’s kindness and thoughtfulness.
Her eyes dipped to the foot of the bed, where he’d sat her down, removed her socks, and massaged warmth into her feet with those big, confident, clever hands of his.
Despite her weariness and the fact that Mason had changed the bedding before he and Ana went to sleep, she swore she’d smelled hints of him beneath the scent of detergent when she had lain down.
You’re in here for a reason, Gabriela, and it’s not to get all hot and bothered.
Steeling herself, she set about her task, trying to think of this as she would a client’s bedroom. She dusted, cleaned the headboard, picked up the few articles of clothing on the floor and tossed them into the hamper, and made the bed. Yet she couldn’t help herself; she had to look at his things.
Not that there was much. Just like the rest of Mason’s home, there was little in the bedroom that seemed to represent the man himself.
There was a small piece of paper atop his dresser with a pencil that had been worn down to a two-inch-long stub.
A list had been written on that paper in compact, slightly uneven letters, all caps.
BOOKS TO LOOK FOR. Each title was written on its own line, accompanied by what must’ve been the last names of the authors.
But the bottom of the paper was separated by a firm pencil line, beneath which was printed one word—TERMINATOR. She leaned closer to the paper, narrowing her eyes slightly. There were still tiny flecks of graphite on the paper around the letters; they were recently written.
She smirked. Ana must’ve mentioned that movie to Mason this morning. God, she’d felt like such a terrible mother when she’d let Ana watch it a year ago and had found out the girl had told all her friends at school the next day. What had the other mothers thought of Gabby?
Fortunately, she’d quickly realized she didn’t give a damn what the other mothers thought. If her daughter loved The Terminator, good for her. Sarah Connor was probably a better role model than some of the princesses in the movies they watched.
Gabriela cleared away the graphite dust and continued cleaning—though by now far more of her attention was turned toward studying Mason’s room.
When she spotted the little bears on the nightstand, she probably shouldn’t have thought much of them.
They were the kinds of knickknacks that were popular in the region, especially in vacation homes and rentals, the kinds of things that tourists bought at the giftshops in town.
And she knew she was probably reading into them too much, but…
There were three carved bears, black with brown snouts. A big bear, a little bear, and a medium bear. The two smaller figures were close to one another, but the big one was several inches away from the others—and it was turned very slightly toward them.
Frowning, Gabriela stared at those bears. She stared at them for much too long, but something about them—that bit of extra space, the way the big bear seemed to be looking at the others—nagged at her. What had Mason said earlier?