Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Bobby
I shouldn’t have come.
I knew it the second I parked outside the Delacruz house, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.
The house was warm and inviting, the porch light casting a soft glow against the evening sky, but I felt anything but comfortable.
Through the open window, I could hear laughter, the faint clinking of dishes, the sounds of a home that had just survived its worst nightmare and was trying to move forward.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly, trying to talk myself down. This wasn’t about me. It was about Maria wanting to thank us. It was about sitting through dinner, accepting her gratitude, and leaving. Simple. But there was nothing simple about tonight, because Gabbi was here.
The second I stepped through the door, I felt her presence like a weight pressing down on my chest. Maria greeted me first, pulling me into a quick hug like she had known me forever, her warmth making it impossible to say no to anything she asked.
“Bobby, dear, come in, come in. You must be starving!”
I forced a polite smile. “Thanks for having me, Mrs. Delacruz.”
“Maria,” she corrected with a wave of her hand. “You saved my son. That makes you family.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just nodded. She led me through the house, past family photos, the scent of spices and roasted meat thick in the air, and into the dining area where a large table was already set.
And then I saw her.
Gabbi stood near the table, talking softly to little Danny, the boy we had pulled from the fire.
He clung to her, his tiny arms wrapped around her waist like she was his favorite person in the world.
Her hand ruffled his hair, her soft laugh filling the room as she whispered something to him that made him giggle.
Something hot twisted in my stomach.
She looked at home here. Comfortable. Like she belonged. Like she wasn’t the same woman who had run headfirst into a burning building, the same woman who had argued with me with fire in her eyes just days ago.
Her gaze lifted, locking onto mine, and for a second, neither of us moved. There was a flicker of something there—hesitation, maybe, or just exhaustion from the past few days.
Maria clapped her hands, breaking whatever the hell that moment was. “Alright, everyone to the table! Dinner’s ready!”
I took my seat, keeping my expression neutral, forcing myself to focus on anything other than the way Gabbi’s fingers lingered on Danny’s back as she helped him into his chair.
Then the door opened, and he walked in.
“Sorry I’m late!” A deep, confident voice rang out as Mateo Delacruz strolled into the room. He was tall, broad-shouldered, mid-20s, with dark eyes that immediately swept over the table before landing on Gabbi.
I tensed.
Maria beamed. “Ah, my eldest finally joins us. Everyone, this is Mateo.”
Mateo didn’t hesitate. He moved straight for the seat next to Gabbi, flashing her a charming smile as he pulled out his chair.
“So,” he said smoothly, settling in. “You’re the reporter my mom won’t stop talking about.”
Gabbi gave a small, polite laugh. “I guess so.”
“Fearless, huh?” He smirked. “That’s what they’re saying on the news.”
She shook her head, ducking slightly. “I wouldn’t say fearless. More like… impulsive.”
Mateo chuckled. “Impulsive is just fearless with extra steps.”
I clenched my jaw.
Dinner carried on, conversation flowing around me, but I wasn’t paying attention to any of it. My focus was on Mateo.
He was interested.
I could see it in the way he leaned in when Gabbi spoke, in the way his eyes flickered over her with open admiration, in the way he smiled every damn time she laughed. And the worst part? She was smiling back.
I gripped my fork tighter.
“So, Gabbi,” Mateo said, his voice smooth. “Do you always risk your life for strangers, or was that just a special occasion?”
Gabbi laughed softly. “I don’t make a habit of running into fires, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But you would do it again, wouldn’t you?” He tilted his head, studying her.
She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I think I would.”
He grinned. “Damn. That’s kind of hot.”
I nearly choked on my drink.
Maria swatted Mateo’s arm. “Mateo! You don’t say things like that at the dinner table.”
“What?” He shrugged, his grin never faltering. “I’m just saying, bravery is attractive.” He turned back to Gabbi, lowering his voice just enough to make my blood boil. “Don’t tell me you don’t hear that all the time.”
Gabbi blinked, looking a little flustered. “Uh?—”
Maria rolled her eyes. “Ignore him, dear. He thinks he’s charming.”
“Thinks?” Mateo put a hand to his chest, feigning offense.
Danny giggled at his older brother, oblivious to the tension crackling around the table.
I wasn’t amused.
Mateo turned back to Gabbi, still grinning. “So, fearless reporter, what’s next for you? Are you sticking around, or just passing through?”
Gabbi hesitated, glancing at me briefly before answering. “I… haven’t decided yet.”
Mateo smirked. “Well, I hope you stay. I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better.”
My grip on my fork was so tight my knuckles ached.
Gabbi let out a small, awkward laugh. “That’s?—”
“Mateo.” My voice came out sharper than I intended.
Everyone at the table turned toward me, but my eyes were locked on him.
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
I forced a tight smile. “You’re laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?”
Gabbi straightened slightly, her eyes narrowing. “Bobby.”
Mateo smirked, clearly enjoying this. “Just having a conversation, man.”
Maria sighed, shaking her head. “Can we just eat, please?”
Silence stretched between us for a second before Mateo chuckled, turning back to his plate. “No hard feelings, Norman.”
I was going to break something.
Gabbi didn’t look at me for the rest of dinner, but I could feel her there, right next to me, like a fire I couldn’t put out.
And Mateo?
He knew exactly what he was doing.
I picked up my glass, taking a slow sip, forcing myself to breathe.
I wasn’t jealous.
I didn’t care.
I wasn’t about to lose my goddamn mind.
Except I was.
And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.