Chapter 7 Alice
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALICE
I wake up the next morning with the world’s most ridiculous smile on my face. This is not normal for me. Mornings just aren’t my thing. I still feel the ghost of his lips on mine.
I roll over and check my phone, hoping to find a message from him, but my lock screen is blank. No new notifications. Darn. The spark of disappointment running through me tells me my heart is already getting involved here.
I stumble into the shower, letting the hot water do its job. Then I dress in a pair of black leggings and a slouchy pink cardigan that matches my favorite lipstick. Hair up, but a little messy. My signature Saturday morning chores outfit.
I’m debating whether to make a cup of plain old coffee or head down to the lobby to get a Caramel Macchiato from Gobble Me Up when there’s a knock at my front door.
I peer through the peephole, and my heart pounds away in my chest as I lay eyes on Gabe. Taking a deep breath, I open the door. “Good morning,” I say while my heart jackhammers away at a solid 170 bpm.
“Good morning, coffee girl.” He holds out a cardboard drink tray and a brown paper bag. “I thought your favorite beverage from Gobble Me Up would be a good way to start the day.”
My eyes eat him up. He’s wearing dark jeans and a gray Henley that fits like a glove over every sculpted inch of his body, and his hair is still damp. Damn, he looks so freaking amazing. “How do you know what my favorite drink is?”
“A little birdy told me.” He grins, but it’s not the predatory CEO smile I’m used to. It’s softer, almost sheepish. “You said I had to work for it.”
“Great opening shot,” I tell him as he follows me into the room.
His eyes scan me from top to bottom, and I feel the pink rising in my cheeks. “You look incredible,” he says, handing me the drink tray. “Caramel Macchiato with no whip and an extra shot.”
I take the tray, trying not to swoon. “Your little birdy really knows their stuff.”
He shrugs, and his lips twitch as he lifts the bag. “Also, there are two chocolate cream donuts, a bacon cheddar kolache, and a lemon scone.”
I try to process all of this, but my brain short-circuits. I can’t believe he went to all this trouble to find out what I like. “Thank you,” I say, “for the early morning treats.”
He laughs, low and easy. “You’re welcome, coffee girl.”
He sits, and I set the bag and drinks on the coffee table. I fold myself onto the opposite end and reach for one of the chocolate cream donuts.
“So,” I say, voice way too bright. “Are we going to make this an everyday thing?”
He looks at me for a long, terrifying moment, and I expect him to drop some life-altering bombshell, but instead he says, “God. I hope so. Last night was the best night I’ve had in years.” He lifts the kolache, splits it in half, and offers me half.
“Me too,” I admit as we eat, which is to say, I demolish half the food, and he watches me with a kind of fascinated reverence. I am acutely aware of every bite, every crumb that falls onto my leggings. When I reach for a napkin, he grabs it first and dabs the corner of my mouth.
“You missed a spot,” he says, his thumb lingering on my lip.
My mouth goes dry. “Thanks.”
There’s a weird, electric silence filling the room.
I’m actually a little startled when Gabe leans back and smiles.
“There’s an art festival downtown today,” he says.
“A bunch of galleries are doing pop-up exhibits, and there’s a live mural competition.
I thought it might be fun to check it out. If you want.”
I blink at him. “You want to go to a public event with me. In the daylight. Where people can see us.”
“I don’t give a fuck who sees us.” He scoots closer to me. “I just want to spend the day with you.
Wow. Just wow
“I’d love to,” I say, because apparently I can’t say no to him.
We take the elevator down to the lobby. Gabe’s hand finds mine, warm and strong, and it just feels right.
He leads me toward a waiting car, but not a limo this time—just two sleek, black SUVs with tinted windows idling at the curb.
I glance over my shoulder and notice two giant men in matching sunglasses trailing us. “Friends of yours?”
Gabe doesn’t even look back. “Security detail. Don’t mind them.”
“Are you in danger?” I ask, only half-joking. I know most billionaires have a whole security team, but I’ve never really known someone so rich.
He squeezes my hand and glances down to wink at me. “Only my heart.”
Oh, wow. He has to stop saying things like that.
He helps me into the passenger seat and runs around to slide into the driver’s seat.
Wow. The two security guys hop in the SUV behind us.
Gabe drives the SUV through Worthington Hills, which is currently buzzing with weekend energy.
Banners for the art festival flap from every streetlamp, and there’s a steady flow of families, college kids, and elderly couples streaming toward Main Street.
We park a few blocks away to “get the full experience,” according to Gabe, and as soon as we step onto the sidewalk, he offers me his arm.
God, he’s ridiculous. And I love it.
We stroll through the crowd, and it’s so normal, so weirdly domestic, that I almost forget who I’m with.
The art festival is everything I hoped for and more. Booths line both sides of the street, selling everything from watercolor pet portraits to blown-glass frogs. A local jazz band plays in the gazebo, and the air is thick with the smell of kettle corn and the faintest hint of cotton candy.
Gabe is into all of it. He asks questions at every booth, wants to know how things are made, and what inspired the artist. He watches me as I inspect the art.
At one point, Gabe disappears for a minute and comes back with a tote bag full of art prints and a bouquet of sunflowers. “For you,” he says, holding them out like it’s nothing.
I stare at the flowers, then at him. “Thank you.” His gesture melts my freaking heart into a puddle.
We spend hours at the festival, sampling everything, listening to music, and generally acting like a normal couple on a normal Saturday.
I don’t know when I’ve ever felt this happy, or this safe.
Every time I catch Gabe looking at me, he has that same soft, awestruck look—like he’s still surprised I exist.
Eventually, the sun starts to dip, and the crowd thins out. My feet hurt, and my arms are full of flowers and prints and a slightly creepy hand-painted mug.
“Are you ready to head back?” Gabe asks, but I can tell he’s already plotting something.
We stroll back to the car in easy silence. At one point, I glance back and catch the security guys lagging a few yards behind, watching us like a hawk.
“Can I ask you something?” I say as we reach the car.
“Anything.”
“Is this… normal for you? Doing things like this?”
He takes a long time to answer. “No,” he says finally. “It’s not. But with you, it feels like it could be.”
I have no idea how to respond to that, so I just squeeze his hand and climb into the SUV.
The drive back is quiet, but it’s a comfortable quiet, the kind that comes after a perfect day. I catch Gabe glancing over at me, and I can tell he wants to say something, but he lets it go. When we pull up to #1 Love Place, he opens my door and helps me out like an old-school gentleman.
We ride the elevator up, and as soon as we step into the eighth-floor hallway, I feel the butterflies take flight again. Gabe follows me to my door, then stops, hands in his pockets.
“Thank you for the wonderful day.” I smile up at him. Before I’m able to stop myself, I go up on my toes and kiss him, right there in my doorway. Gabe kisses me back, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second. His hands cup my face, and for a moment, the whole world drops away.
When we finally break apart, I can’t stop smiling. “So, what’s next?”
He leans in, forehead resting against mine. “Dinner at my place. Tonight. No pizza this time—I want to cook for you.”
“I’d love to,” I tell him.
His smile is pure sin. “How about seven?”
I nod too fast and try to play it off. “I’ll be there.”
“Fair warning.” He winks, and I almost swoon right there in the hallway. “My lasagna will blow your mind.” He lets his eyes drag over me, slow and deliberate, like he’s imagining me naked under my leggings and cardigan. Honestly, maybe he is.
My brain goes totally blank. “I can’t wait. See you at seven.”
He kisses me once more, quick and sweet, then heads down the hall toward the elevator. I watch him go, my heart doing its best to break the land-speed record.