Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
GABE
“What am I going to do?”
Juniper snorted her frustration, mirroring the inner turmoil settling heavy in my chest. I’d spent the last fifteen minutes pouring my heart out to Jasmine’s horse, trying to make sense of it all.
My feelings for her were so intense, so unlike anything I'd ever experienced before, that I would burst if I didn’t get this off my chest, and I couldn’t exactly tell anyone else.
So I had to settle for venting to an eleven hundred pound animal.
I stroked a hand down Juniper’s neck, and she nudged my shoulder. Whether it was in affection or impatience, I couldn't be sure. She was a fickle beast who only liked me when the mood struck her and typically only when Jasmine wasn’t around.
I peeled the banana I’d selected for her and broke it in half. She let out a soft knicker when I presented the first piece to her.
“Jasmine’s right. I do have feelings for her,” I admitted as she chewed.
“My best friend’s daughter,” I added, my voice barely above a whisper.
It terrified me to admit it out loud, to acknowledge the desperate, helpless yearning that had consumed my every waking moment for a woman who should be off limits.
I waited for the guilt to bowl me over, but this time, it was less like a tsunami and more like a tidal wave.
It was just enough to cover my feet in sand and keep me rooted in place.
I couldn’t move forward, not with the very real possibility that doing so could ruin the most important friendship I’d ever had.
Juniper dipped her head, reaching for the other half of the banana. I lifted it to her mouth, scratching her forehead as she pulled it between her lips. She eyed me like I was testing her limits. She’d clearly had enough of my attention and was probably tired of hearing my voice.
Ensuring she had enough hay and water, I slipped out of her stall and secured the latch.
I took my time walking back to the trailer, drawing the balmy midnight air deep into my lungs and releasing it slowly to calm my racing thoughts.
By the time I reached my destination, I was self-composed enough to face Jasmine again, but silently prayed she was asleep so I wouldn’t have to.
I opened the door and quietly slipped inside, trying not to wake her.
Dropping onto the sofa, I toed off my boots.
That was when I heard it. There was a low buzzing sound that was barely detectable.
At first, I thought it might be Jasmine’s phone vibrating with an incoming call, but it didn’t stop.
If someone was trying to reach her, there’d be a break between her voicemail picking up and the caller trying again. This was something else.
I stood and stepped toward the platform that housed the bed.
Peering into the darkened alcove, I searched for any sign of her phone screen lighting up, worried it may be an alert from her CGM.
Suddenly the buzzing turned into an insistent beeping, and a twinge of panic twisted my gut.
I climbed up the two steps to the platform and crawled over to her.
The space was cramped, making it difficult to stand, so I kneeled beside her on the mattress.
Flipping on the nightlight, I took in her sleeping form.
She was on her side with her back to me, so I leaned forward and touched her brow to ensure she wasn’t clammy.
When she didn’t stir, I gently shook her shoulder.
I tried to ignore the softness of her silken skin against my palm.
“Jasmine,” I said in an attempt to rouse her. She groaned and rolled onto her back. The movement caused the sheet to slip down her body, exposing her torso. Her nipples pebbled against the thin fabric of her tank top as the cool air whispered over her skin.
Swallowing hard, I had to look away for a moment to gather my composure.
I would never tell a woman what to wear, especially to bed, but her little sleep sets drove me wild.
It was practically torture seeing her in them every night.
The lace framing her perfect tits, the crop top exposing a strip of golden skin, and shorts so tiny they were barely more than underwear tested my resolve every time I saw her in them.
“Jasmine,” I repeated a little louder. She groaned again and her brow furrowed, but she still didn’t wake. Fear flooded my veins, so I leaned over her, shaking her again, this time more forcefully.
“Jasmine.” My voice boomed in the small space, and finally her eyes fluttered open. She blinked up at me a few times to clear away the fog of drowsiness.
“Gabe?” Her voice was scratchy with sleep, and her wide eyes flicked back and forth between mine. My body sagged with relief, and I cupped her face with my hand.
“Yeah, baby, I’m here.” I hadn’t meant to call her that. It just slipped out. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, alarm filling her tone.
“I-I don’t know. Something is beeping. I was worried your sugar had dropped again.
” She listened for a moment then glanced down at her body.
She kicked at the sheets until everything from her thighs up were exposed.
I drank her in, wishing I was a stronger man, wishing I could resist the sight of all that exposed skin.
Reaching down to grip her insulin pump, she tilted it toward her to see the screen. “Shit. It’s out of battery. I should have changed it before bed.”
“Where are your batteries? I’ll get you a new one,” I offered as she cleared the alert.
She instructed me on where to find them, and I returned a moment later with a fresh one.
Propped up on her elbows, she watched as I crawled across the mattress again and resumed my kneeling position next to her.
I could feel her eyes on me, and my skin prickled with awareness.
The heat of her gaze was like a caress, one I was desperate to feel everywhere.
I reached for her pump and unclipped it from the waistband of her shorts. She gasped when my fingers brushed over the exposed skin of her abdomen. My body instantly reacted to the sound. I tried to ignore my rapidly growing erection and focused on replacing the battery.
“All set,” I declared once the new battery was in place. “You should probably try to get some sleep,” I advised, internally warning myself to get the hell out of there before I did something stupid. I was preparing to retreat when her pump started buzzing again.
She studied the screen and let out an exasperated sigh.
“Now my insulin cartridge is low.” Her phone beeped, and she plucked it from the shelf next to the bed.
Her lips pulled into a frown and her brow creased.
“And my sugar is high. There’s not enough insulin for a bolus and to maintain the basal rate on my pump. I’ll have to refill it.”
She pushed herself up into a sitting position like she was preparing to get up, but I stopped her.
“I’ll get it. You stay here,” I instructed.
I didn’t know how high her sugar was or at what point she became symptomatic, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
Retrieving her insulin from the fridge, I grabbed the bag of diabetic supplies and returned to her.
I watched as she filled the cartridge and programmed the pump so I would know how to do it in the future.
I needed to learn how to do these things so I could take care of her should she ever become incapacitated.
“Is this what does it for you?” she asked, and I glanced up at her. There was a mischievous glint in her eye and a suggestive quirk to her brow. I shook my head and huffed a laugh. “You’re a menace.”
“Some guys are grossed out by all this,” she said, holding her hands out to indicate her diabetes equipment.
And for the first time, I saw a flicker of insecurity.
She’d never seemed bothered by it before, but clearly someone had made her feel self-conscious.
“You don’t even bat an eye when I change my infusion site or give myself a shot. ”
Jealousy at her mention of other men and rage at their lack of humanity and compassion burned in my gut.
“Those are boys, not men. There’s nothing gross about you or your diabetes.
This,” I said, reaching out to tap on her pump, “is what keeps you alive. And to me, that makes it the most beautiful accessory you’ve ever worn.
” I traced the tubing with my fingers to the insertion site and gently brushed them over the skin around the adhesive dressing holding it in place.
Without thinking, I framed her hips with my hands and leaned forward to press a kiss to the spot just above it.
She sucked in a sharp breath and reached out to tangle her fingers in my hair. “Never forget that.”
She held my gaze for a long moment, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. Those hypnotic eyes seared into me, the gold starbursts surrounding her pupils glowing like the hottest ember. If I didn’t put some space between us, we would ignite and burn our whole lives to the ground.
I stood and headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up before I did something stupid like put my mouth on any other parts of her body.