29. Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
Abbie
G abe grabs my coat from my suitcase without me reminding him and he has now had the hired SUV pull right up to the door. I try to remember a time when Kenneth was that protective and thoughtful, but I can’t. It had to have existed, though. I married the man.
A warm blanket of awareness settles around myself and Gabe as we claim our spots in the back of the hired SUV with Dexter on the seat next to Gabe. The driver, an older man with a goatee and a strong New York accent, greets us. “I’m Joe,” he announces. “How you doing?” I plan to answer, but then I realize that he’s not talking to us. He’s talking to Dexter, which has me and Gabe sharing a smile.
“Come on up here, pal,” Joe invites, and Dexter, showing no serial killer tendencies at all, happily claims his spot. “We need supplies for that pooch,” Gabe announces. “Can you stop by the store?”
“You got it, man,” Joe says, rubbing Dexter under the chin, while Gabe’s hand comes down on my knee, pulling me closer.
I glance up at him, and we share this look that I can’t explain. It’s connection, attraction, friendship and desire all wrapped up in one. It’s us and I’m finding us to be incredibly addictive.
A few minutes later, we pull into a small grocery store. “I can watch the pooch,” Joe offers, “if you’s like to go on in.”
Gabe glances at me, looking concerned, lowering his voice to speak to just me. “He can get mean.”
I reach up and cup his cheek. “I’ll stay with him. You go buy your supplies.”
“What if he is mean to you?”
I laugh. “I can handle him, I promise.”
He hesitates, but he nods. “I’ll be fast. Where’s your phone?”
“My phone?”
“I want to be sure you have my number in there.”
His number in my phone. Of course, I need his number in my phone. Even if we were just having sex. I hand him my phone. “Should I put it in as Gabe or some nickname we can use when we’re naked, like Big Gabe or—”
I elbow him. “You’re bad.”
He wiggles his brows and finishes inserting his number in my phone. “Bad Gabe it is.” He hands me my phone. “Call me so I have your number.”
“Okay.”
“Now.”
I call him. He pulls his phone from his pocket and saves the number. Once he does, he shows me his phone that reads “Redheaded Goddess aka Abbie” as the ID. I laugh. “You.”
“Hmmm,” he murmurs, leaning in and kissing my cheek, his breath a warm tease on my neck, his lips by my ear, “Most definitely you,” he whispers, before he exits the SUV, leaving me with goosebumps and tight nipples, neither of which are from the cold gust of air from the winter night. I want him. I always want him. I want him like I have never wanted before.
I sink back into the seat and as much of a worrier as I am, instead of thinking about all the trouble that came our way tonight, I think about Gabe—just Gabe. His smile. His jokes. His Big Gabe reference. His body, God, what a body he has. All that hard muscle and the way he wears a suit. Heck, the way he wears a T-shirt. His lion tattoo that I want to hear more about. Who am I kidding? That I want to touch and lick. His intensity beneath the surface. His secrets. I do want to know his secrets, but I don’t think he wants me to know and I get it. I have my own. I have a past that’s become shameful in so many ways but it’s all rooted in things he already knows about me. I can’t help but wonder what Gabe dreads me knowing about his past, and he does. I feel that. I sense that.
I’m still thinking of nothing but Gabe when he returns and has Joe pop the trunk. I twist around to find an insane number of bags being loaded and when he joins us again, Dexter goes nuts. Gabe rewards his happiness with a treat. “I’m armed now,” he says. “Treats. Food. Bones. Even a bed the size of Texas.” He shuts the door and nods at Joe in the rearview window. “We’re a go. You have the address, right?”
“Got it,” Joe confirms and we’re off.
Gabe’s hand comes down on my leg and he leans in and kisses me, his lips warm despite the cold wind he just left behind. The natural way he reaches for me, warming my heart, the romantic in me trying to take over, trying to smash my “just sex” declaration as fast as I’d made it. “I needed you in there,” he says, further reeling me in. “I’m out of practice with the whole dog owner thing. You’ll have to help me shop all over again in the city.”
“Does this mean you’re adopting Dexter?”
“You think the owner of the shelter will approve me?”
I laugh. “I can put a word in for you. I think you have a good chance.”
“Then I guess I’m adopting Dexter. I didn’t even think I wanted a dog.”
“Funny how an animal can find you and then change you.”
“Do you have an animal at home?”
“I have the shelter,” I say, “and I foster the ones that really need extra help. I like to stay open to be able to do that.”
“But no forever animal? Sounds like commitment issues.”
I lower my voice. “Says the man who’s never been married.”
“Yes, well, I’m not afraid of commitment,” he says. “I just haven’t found a reason to make one. Until now. ”
Maybe he’s talking about Dexter. Maybe he’s talking about me. I tell myself that I don’t want him to be talking about me. I just want to have a hot fling and enjoy him. That kind of freedom is nothing that I have ever allowed myself in life. I do not want to fall in love with this man. I won’t fall in love with him. I repeat these words for reinforcement on the drive to his house, which turns out to be a charming cottage on the ocean.
Joe pulls us into the drive, and Gabe helps me out of the SUV, setting me on the ground and molding me close, all those hard muscles I was fantasizing about earlier pressed close to me. “Welcome to my second home, Abbie,” he says, softly, and my God, he makes it one part seduction and one part Hallmark movie. I’m never going to be able to resist this man and right now, I don’t know why I’m trying. I honestly can’t remember why, at all.
He opens the SUV and retrieves Dexter and we head toward a sprawling wonderful porch that seems to stretch the entire front and all the way around the right side. Dexter is excited and Gabe opens the door and sets my bag inside the door while the happy dog charges inside. There’s a crash and Gabe curses. “Damn dog,” he murmurs, tugging me inside the house with him, and shutting the door.
Dexter is missing and Gabe takes off looking for him while I take in the giant living room with hardwood, a rock fireplace, and cozy brown couches. I’m about to help with the hunt when my cellphone rings. I dig it from my purse and grimace as I find my ex-husband’s number. I hit decline and set my purse on the floor to remove my coat. I hang it on the coat rack when a text sounds on my phone.
I inhale on the dread filling my chest because I know who this will be from. Sure enough, it’s my ex: I’m trying to play nice. I’m trying to be the guy you want me to be. But Gabe Maxwell changes everything. Gabe is a problem. Get rid of him or I will.
And there it is. The reason my life can’t be a lusty version of a Hallmark movie.