Chapter 4 #4
He grinned and took his rough hand from my face. Louie came into the room then as dinner wound down and handed Mr. Wyatt, Gabe’s father, a leather portfolio I could only assume was the bill. Gabe stood and reached over his brother and sister to take it.
His father pulled it from his reach as his mother smiled and rolled her eyes.
“Again,” Mrs. Wyatt said, “we have the endless ritual of fighting over who’s going to pay the bill.”
“I’m paying, Ma.” Gabe kept his hand extended, expecting his father to hand it over. “Come on, Dad. If you don’t start letting me pay, I’m going to stop inviting you.”
“You would never do that to your mother.”
“Don’t test me. I make millions of dollars. Let me spend it on the people I love most in the world.” He stared down his father for another few seconds before the older man relented.
“This once. Only because I know it’ll give you pleasure. But I’m still the head of the family, Gabe. I enjoy the role. And I’m not a poor man who can’t afford dinner.”
Gabe took the folder, but with less enthusiasm. “I know, Dad. Just this once.”
It was an interesting exchange and I felt like I was watching the war between pride and love and generosity mixed with alpha male assertion. If I were a psychologist I could write a book about that one exchange.
But I was just a friend with a wild pang in her heart, a longing for a father who was gone, and an empty place in me where there was no man to take his place, no Gabriel of my own in my life to soften the loss. I turned to Tate.
“What are my chances of getting a ride home with you? We can call an Uber.”
He smiled and nodded. “Chances are good. I’m not finished getting to know you tonight. I’d love to have you to myself for a while.” He nodded toward Gabe, who was getting his credit card out. “Out from under the shadow of that guy.”
“I agree wholeheartedly.”
Gabe turned to us and said, “You agree with what?”
“It’s time for us to go,” Tate said, standing and taking my hand, lifting me to stand with him. “We’ll make our own way home.”
When Gabe was about to object, because I could see it in his face, see him start to stand, his mother spoke up.
“It was so nice to meet you two. I hope we see you again at dinner. You have a wonderful night—spend some time alone now.” She gave us a mischievous wink.
A few minutes later, we sat in the back of a black BMW as the Uber driver took us to my apartment, winding through the back roads from East Boston to Beacon Hill, a world apart.
“Where do you live?” I asked.
“Not far from here. On the waterfront in a high-rise.”
“Sounds spectacular. View of the harbor?”
He shrugged. “It does have a spectacular view. I can’t take credit for it though. The team’s front office arranged it for me. It’s only for a month. Then I need to find a more permanent place.”
“That’s right. You signed a three-year deal.”
He grinned and put an arm around me. “You really do follow football, don’t you?”
“I’m a true fan.”
“What else are you a fan of?”
“You mean like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain—”
“And making love at midnight.” His grin eased and his eyes went all intense. “One of my favorite songs.”
“You have a romantic streak.”
“Yes ma’am.” He paused and stared at me.
I stared back. The sun was setting and the interior of the car was shadowed and intimate as the light faded.
He leaned forward to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me, anticipated it, felt a spike in my heart rate as I watched his beautiful mouth come closer.
I shut my eyes to take it in, feel the soft cushion of his lips against mine, the heat of his breath.
His hand came up and framed my face, large and strong.
Concentrating on his mouth, the warmth, his spicy scent, the minty taste of his tongue as it tested mine, I wanted to feel more.
It felt good, right, but . . .
He ended the kiss, lifting his mouth away and resting his forehead against mine.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Mia. And those are world-class lips you have there.”
A small laugh, maybe nerves, escaped.
“You’re not bad yourself.” I meant it, meant maybe more.
The car slowed and pulled to the curb and I turned to see we were in front of my building.
“Come inside?”
He looked at me, desire clear in his eyes, hesitation in the line of his mouth.
“You heard the boss. Mr. Football says we have an early morning tomorrow.”
That made me laugh for real. “You do take your football seriously, don’t you?”
“Guilty as charged. But don’t worry, Mia. I will be calling you.”
I turned to open my door and Tate leaned forward to ask the driver to wait.
“Let me walk you to your door.” He reached across me and pushed the door open and I got out with him right behind me.
“What about you? Don’t you have work in the morning?” he asked as we walked up the short flight of steps to stand on the small stoop in front of my door.
“Yes, I have to be at the hospital at seven.”
“Let me guess—you’re a doctor.”
“Close. I’m nurse in charge of the emergency room.” He blew out a whistle, which I was realizing was a habit of his.
“In charge? You seem very young for that responsibility. I’m impressed.”
I smiled, reached up and touched his face. “Don’t be impressed yet. I’ve only had the job for a week. I’m still finding my way around.”
“You’ll do spectacularly,” he said. I was grateful he didn’t ask why I wasn’t a doctor. I didn’t feel like explaining. Instead I stared at his mouth, thinking it would be nice if he kissed me again, thinking if he didn’t, I’d know he wasn’t going to call again.
He stepped closer, backing me up against the door, and I could feel his body against mine, the hard, solid muscle of him.
As he leaned in for the kiss, I ran my hands along the sculpted muscles of his chest, appreciating the strength and beauty and sheer hard work that went into them.
The kiss was less restrained than before.
I wanted to be more excited than I was, but I wasn’t.
Wishing that the kiss would stun me, I pressed closer.
But then my phone rang. He raised his head and backed away when I jumped, startled.
“Sorry. I should check that.” I slipped the phone from my bag and laughed in relief, despite a tick of excitement.
“It’s Gabe,” I said, rolling my eyes, trying to cover for the sudden pounding in my chest. “He’s like my big brother calling to check up on me.
” I shook my head and gave a nervous laugh, hoping Tate didn’t notice or that he assumed it was embarrassment.
Maybe it was embarrassment. Because I was embarrassed that I was more excited about Gabe’s call than Tate’s kiss.
I shouldn’t be excited by the call because Gabe probably did think of himself in the big brother role.
“You going to answer it?”
“No.” It was the least I could do. But the moment was gone and Tate made no move to kiss me again.
“Guess it’s time for me to leave. He’ll probably call me next, the SOB.”
I laughed, genuinely feeling better, and put a hand on his chest to feel his warmth.
“I enjoyed tonight. It was a good test,” I said.
He gave me a wry grin.
“I’ll call you to make a date. Just the two of us next time. So we can really get to know each other.”
“That would be really nice, Tate. I’d like that.” It was true.