Chapter Twenty-Five
GAbrIEL
It had taken everything in me to leave Charlotte in bed this morning with her warm, soft, and tangled in sheets that still carried her scent.
Every instinct I had screamed at me to stay.
To trace the curve of her shoulder, to wake her with a kiss, to lose myself in her again until neither of us could remember why we kept drawing lines between us.
Morning meant the workday, and with it, the inevitable conversation where I had no doubt she’d remind me that last night had been a lapse in judgment. Something we couldn’t afford to repeat.
But I didn’t believe last night was a mistake.
Not after the way she’d looked at me unguarded, her walls stripped away for once. I’d seen what was real beneath all that control. And I wasn’t ready to let that go. Not without a fight.
I figured a conversation with Charlotte about how this could become something should start with coffee.
Simple enough, except her machine seemed like something NASA built to launch satellites.
I was more of a “coffee pot with water, filter, and grounds” kind of guy, but this beast had dials and nozzles that probably required a pilot’s license to operate.
The instruction manual was tucked behind it, thankfully, which was classic Charlotte. Complicated, but worth it if you took the time to figure her out. I made it to the point where the machine began impressively grinding beans, when the sound of the front door jolted me still.
Shit. Her son. The last thing Charlotte needed was for him to find me in her kitchen at this hour.
But then, “Oh, hello,” came a feminine voice.
I turned to find a stylish woman with dark hair twisted up and features that carried echoes of Charlotte’s.
“You must be Charlotte’s mother,” I greeted quickly, crossing to shake her hand.
Her expression shifted from surprise to amused warmth. “Yes, I am indeed. And you are?”
“Gabriel.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Paulina.”
“Lovely to meet you, too.” Her tone had an easy familiarity reminding me of my own mother.
But her arrival meant there was no way Charlotte and I were going to have a conversation about the future. “I was about to head out.”
“What’s the hurry? Stay, chat. Let’s have some coffee.”
Of all the situations I’d prepared for, this wasn’t one of them. There I was, making small talk with Charlotte’s mom, with whose daughter I’d just spent the most unbelievable night of my life. The aroma of brewing espresso surrounded us all the while.
Judging by the stunned expression on Charlotte’s face when she appeared in the doorway, her robe cinched tight, hair mussed, eyes wide, this scenario hadn’t been on her bingo card, either.
“Hello, honey,” her mom expressed cheerfully. “I was about to enjoy morning coffee with Gabriel.”
Charlotte’s hair was tousled from sleep, a few stray strands slipping free to frame her face, and damn if the sight didn’t pull me right back to how she’d looked tangled in her sheets hours earlier.
She was beautiful in such an unguarded state.
If I had five more minutes alone with her, I knew exactly how I’d have spent them.
Instead, I pulled myself out of my trance and handed her mother a cup, set another under the spout, and commented casually, “Actually, I was just making coffee for the both of you. But I should get going. I’m heading up to the Los Angeles office today.”
Relief crossed Charlotte’s face, but before she could usher me out, her mother said something in rapid Italian which I had the pleasure of understanding.
“Please tell me you aren’t running this beautiful, charming man out the door.
About time I meet someone in your life. This one’s a keeper, but if I remember correctly, not your date from last night. ”
Charlotte flushed crimson. “Gabriel speaks Italian, Mom.”
Her mother clapped her hands with delight, not the least embarrassed she’d been caught talking about me. She turned to me and repeated in Italian, “It was a pleasure, Gabriel. I hope to see you again soon.”
“The pleasure was mine,” I replied in kind. “And I hope so, too.”
I moved toward Charlotte and murmured, low enough for only her to hear, “See me out?”
She didn’t want to, that much was obvious. But I wasn’t about to leave without making something very clear. I tugged her gently through the open door off the foyer to her office, shut the door, and before she could object, framed her face with my hands.
The kiss was hot, possessive, a reminder of everything still burning between us. She gave in for one desperate beat before pulling back, her voice shaky. “This can’t happen again.”
“The hell it can’t,” I countered.
“There’s too much at stake.” She was already shaking her head. “I’m your boss. This—”
I pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t call it a mistake.”
She exhaled, clearly set on the word.
I softened my tone and my approach. “Let’s put a pin in it. In a few weeks, we’ll both know where we stand. If you get the job, I’ll move on. And if I get it—”
“I’d resign,” she finished.
Her definitive response shouldn’t have been surprising, yet I found it jarring to think of Arrow without her. “Either way, once there’s a decision, then we’ll pick up where we left off.”
Her eyes searched mine, full of doubt and heat all at once. “It won’t be that simple.”
“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t.” I brushed another kiss over her lips. “But right now, I need to believe it could be.”
“Gabr—”
“Last night meant something, whether you’re ready to hear it or not.”
She finally relented. “Okay. We’ll put a pin in it until after the decision is made.”
I pulled away before I did something reckless like haul her back upstairs. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”