Chapter 26 Alessia
I think I got the best sleep of my life.
Okay, no—I definitely got the best sleep of my life last night. Or at least the best sleep I’ve had in the past two years since dealing with the revelation that my husband was cheating on me and got his mistress pregnant while surviving the war zone that was our divorce.
When I woke up this morning, I could still feel Gabriel between my legs.
The soreness where he’d lingered, the way that the heavy weight of his cock had stretched me like no one had ever done before.
And the moment I swung my feet on to the floor a gush of him trickled down my leg.
Again. It’s exactly the way I’m sure he was hoping my morning would start.
With a very clear, physical reminder of him.
I wish there was a way to make it linger for a guy too. Like, imagine if they had to walk around all day dripping from the tips of their cocks with our cum? Dick’s leaking and smelling like us because they came so hard the night before. But no, biology decided that’s a woman-only built in feature.
After showering, I went downstairs, not sure what I was even looking for—maybe to somehow casually or not so casually bump into him while he drank his morning coffee.
But the house was quiet and empty which is of no surprise.
Gabriel works in New York City which means he probably wakes early to catch the train or make the drive.
And instead of feeling disappointed, I felt...relieved. No awkward morning-after discussion. No trying to decode what last night meant to him or me. Because last night was… intense and I’m not sure how to process any of it. I’m not sure I should.
So, I threw on some clothes and ran up to the grocery store, grabbed ingredients for my grandma’s favorite oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and got to work.
Baking, cleaning, making sure I left no trace behind in his very nice, recently remodeled, kitchen that he clearly takes great pride in.
I’ve already damaged the paint by his front door with my heels, the last thing I need is to create more rework for him while he’s graciously letting me stay here.
I’m not sure what it is about knowing he can fix anything in a home, but it’s nice. Provider of the family energy worthy.
Don’t think about that. Don’t think about how much you like that.
My gaze lifts almost without my permission, drifting out the kitchen window to the table that’s still sitting in the yard. The one he built for Natasha and me. It looks even prettier in the sharp morning light. The wood grain catches the sunlight; the surface is smooth and pale against the cold.
And instantly I feel him again. Between my legs.
His rough fingers. The heat of his body pressed inside me.
I picture him out there working on it. Thinking of me.
Seeing a need and fixing it. The buzz of the table saw as he cut the boards down to size, the steady hum of the sander smoothing the surface until it was perfect with his strength.
Strong hands turning something raw into something beautiful without any sort of blueprint.
Now there’s a thin dusting of snow across the top of it.
Like he never bothered bringing it inside after he finished to protect it.
Like after what happened on the rug in front of the fire with me, patience was the last thing on his mind.
Like he just looked at the table, looked at me, and decided… fuck it.
A flush covers my cheeks, and I divert my eyes back to the dishes I’m rinsing. The suds in the basic are cold now and my hands are dry but my whole body still feels hot with need.
When noon rolled around, the cookies were packed up, the dishes were washed, and I had nothing left to do but sit and stew, over-analyzing everything that happened last night for the hundredth time.
No real plans—because whatever that was with Chris last night went nowhere thanks to Gabriel’s dick and dirty mouth. And Gabriel is still nowhere in sight.
I bite down on my bottom lip, considering my options and then decide it’s a good thing he’s not home. I’ll head over to grandma’s and come home later when he’s already asleep. No awkward run-ins. No what happened last night? Yes. This is for the best.
I grab my coat and my purse off the hook by the door, but before I can open it, it’s opening and Eden’s walking inside. She smiles easily when she sees me.
“Oh, hey, Aly.” She gives a little wave. “Good to see you again.”
Eden—with her dark auburn hair and pretty green eyes that look almost like Gabriel’s hazel ones but lighter.
She’s the youngest of the family, twenty-two, in her senior year at NYU’s design school.
From what little I’ve heard from Gabriel, she’s a creative at heart and helped him remodel and redesign all the furniture in their home which is impressive because it’s beautiful and there’s wooden pieces everywhere.
“Hey Eden,” I twist my hands together nervously. “I hope it’s okay I’m staying here temporarily,” I say, suddenly feeling like maybe I should’ve asked her permission too before moving into her sister’s old bedroom.
She waves me off, already making a beeline for the coffee maker. “Totally. Gabriel told me. Stay as long as you like. I’ve missed having another girl around, though I’m barely here between classes and the boyfriend.”
I step forward, following her into the kitchen. “How’s your last semester of school going?”
She takes a sip and sighs with a smile. “Really well. I’ve applied to full time positions with two design firms I’ve had my eye on. One in Hartford and one in New York City. Hoping for an offer before I graduate.”
“What type of products would you be designing?”
“Furniture. I know it’s niche, but I’ve always loved working with Gabriel to repurpose stuff for the thrift store before we closed it and I kind of always knew it’d be what I did long term.
” She smiles. “Eventually, I want to find ways to design pieces using repurposed and recycled materials—really bring it full circle instead of creating more waste. There’s a lot of that in furniture development. ”
“I didn’t know that.”
She nods eagerly and I can tell that this is one of the few things that light her up inside.
“Oh yeah.”
“Do you miss the thrift store?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “Sometimes only because it felt like a connection to my parents. But not really. It just started getting to be too much for Gabriel, Rhiannon, and me to manage with everything else going on in our lives.” She pauses, then smiles a little to herself.
“The thing I probably miss the most is the time I got to spend with Gabriel. Just the two of us working side by side outside, refinishing some piece I dragged home from the side of the road. I had the vision, and he had the skill. He taught me a lot during those days.”
Something about that makes my heart squeeze.
Probably because I can picture it so clearly.
Eden at ten years old, still trying to make sense of losing her parents.
Gabriel in his early twenties, grieving them too, and suddenly carrying the weight of becoming a father to two girls with no roadmap and no one to guide him.
The two of them outside together. Sawdust in the air. Him showing her how to sand the grain just right, how to bring an old, forgotten piece back to life. Probably working on a table not that different from the one he built.
I wonder if he ever looks back at those days and realizes what an incredible job he did with her.
Eden seems so… whole. Like she has a clear plan for her future and isn’t worried.
Happy. Not jagged around the edges the way some people get after childhood breaks them.
The way mine did at times. And honestly, Eden probably had more reason to come out jaded than I ever did.
I force a small smile at her. “That’s really beautiful. Sounds like he was a pretty great big brother. And a good stand-in dad.”
She smiles, soft and certain. “He was.” A beat passes before she adds quietly, “The best.”
I clear the emotion in my throat. “I know I’ve only been here a night, but I can see your creative touch all over this home.”
She grins and takes another sip of coffee. “Thank you. What about you? Gabriel said you’re a teacher.”
I nod. “Kindergarten.”
She tilts her head, considering me. “I hope this isn’t offensive, but I wouldn’t peg you as a kindergarten teacher. More like… middle school.”
I laugh. “I also bartend at Natasha’s bar and occasionally do some private investigation work.”
Eden snaps her fingers, grinning. “The PI work makes sense. Balance.”
I nod. She gets it. “Exactly. The kids soften my edges a bit.”
“Well, that’s fun.” She tilts her head toward the tray that I’m still holding in my hands. “Where are those going? Someone special?”
I glance down at the cookies I’m holding. “My grandma. She lives in town. I’m dropping these off, and in return, I’ll probably have to endure a lecture on how I am crashing her and her new boyfriend’s holiday weekend.”
She laughs easily. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have grandparents like that.”
“You didn’t know yours?”
She shakes her head. “Both sets passed away before mom and dad did.”
Damn.
“You wanna come with me?” I offer. “My grandma might be blunt, but she’s never turned someone away.”
“Thank you for that but I promised Rhiannon I’d swing by to play with Piper when I got home today. She’s getting close to her due date now and exhausted. You have fun.”
I smile, nod, and head out to my car.
My grandma’s house sits around the lake too, like Gabriel’s and Natasha’s. But the lake is huge, which means the drive takes a while. The road curves along the shoreline with a strict twenty-five mile an hour limit, the kind that makes you crawl whether you want to or not.