70. Chapter 70
Chapter seventy
Gabe
I stand there staring at Abbie as she sits on her knees on my bed, my T-shirt clinging to all of her soft curves, the way my body had been a few minutes ago. The way I want to hold her again, but I don’t know if I ever will. I had no choice but to make that confession. If she’s going to end up hating me, if that’s where this ends, it needs to end now. Because if she can’t handle this, she can’t handle what happened with Kendall.
She scoots to the edge of the bed and stands up, walking toward me, stopping a lean from touching me. “What happened to him? The man you handed over to the bookies.”
“He survived,” I say. “But he could have died. I was clear on that point when I handed him over, but it was him or my sister and her unborn child. I chose my sister and that baby.”
“There was no other way?”
“We tried. Walker Security tried. The problem was layered and complicated and time wasn’t on our side.”
She studies me for a few more beats, but still, she doesn’t touch me and I don’t touch her. Why would I touch her if she hates me now?
“No one else knows this?” she confirms.
“No, Abbie. No one else knows this.”
“You trusted me with this information? Or you’re using it to try to push me away.”
“Both,” I admit. “If you can be pushed away, you should walk away sooner rather than later. I don’t want to be all in and you’re toeing your path with me.”
Suddenly, she’s stepping to me, her arms wrapping my waist, her chin tilting upward, her eyes meeting mine. “I’m not toeing anything with you. You’re not like Kenneth. He hurt people to help himself. You were just protecting your sister.”
“You say that now, but—”
“I’m not going to change my mind and you have no idea how much it means to me that you trusted me with this. My God, Gabe. It’s honest. Honest is what I want. Honest is what I want us to be. This means everything to me.”
I cup her head and lower my forehead to hers. “Don’t change your mind.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.”
I pull back to look at her. “If you do come to work for us, and I hope you do, you need to know that in business—”
“You’re brutal. You play to win. Gabe, it’s business. It’s what you need your attorney to be when you hire one. I’m not na?ve. And I hate that you put yourself in the same space as my ex. There is no comparison.”
“You compare me to him.”
“You’re right. You are right, and I’m wrong to do that. You aren’t him.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Are you going to corner me in a closet and beat me while you rip my clothes off, Gabe? Are you going to tell me someone is dead, and you did it, and I’m next while beating me?”
I go cold inside, pure ice. “Holy fuck. If he was alive, I’d kill him.” I cup her face. “I spanked you. My God, I spanked you. Abbie, I’m sorry. I—”
“You asked me first. It’s not the same. I liked it.” Her hand flattens on my chest. “Me telling you what he did to me—that was me trusting you like you trusted me. Don’t turn me into a delicate flower and make it backfire on me. If you do that—”
“No delicate flower,” I say. “Got it. And you want to be spanked again, sooner than later.”
“You’re ad libbing.”
“Very well, I might add.”
She laughs and I kiss her, because I can’t not kiss her, that’s what she does to me. And when the kiss ends, it’s not really over, but rather a pause, waiting for more. Because nothing is ever enough with this woman. “I’m going to fall in love with you, Abbie. Then what?”
Her eyes soften. “We aren’t going to fall in love, remember?”
“And if we do?”
“I don’t know how to be in love, Gabe.”
“Maybe there’s a good how-to book online.” I wink. “I’ll get on Amazon tomorrow.”
She gives me a small smile and I drag her back to bed with me, turning down the lights and holding her close, her head settling on my shoulder. “We’ll be afraid together. Just don’t let me fall in love alone.”
“I’m not going to fall in love with you, Gabe,” she whispers. “You’re not going to fall in love with me, either.”
I smile because, one: she says those words with all kinds of love in her voice, and two: I’ve learned that with Abbie, she says we’re not when we are. And we are. We’re falling in love and yes, it’s scary as fuck, but so is bungee jumping and I did that once. It was a dare with no endgame. Now, I have an endgame. Abbie in my bed over, and over, and over again. Every single night.
Morning comes far too soon with Abbie curled to my side but duty calls, as in Dexter, who is whining beside the bed. I sneak out of bed and Abbie snuggles into the pillow deeper, still asleep. To me, this is about comfort and trust and it matters. It matters a whole hell of a lot especially under the circumstances she’s living right now and has lived in the past.
I sneak into the bathroom, throw on sweats and a tee, and quickly brush my teeth. Dexter waits impatiently and the two of us head downstairs. We’ve barely made it to his pee spot at the corner when I’m accosted by damn reporters. Apparently, the news of Kenneth’s murder has led back to my doorstep. I keep my head down and dodge questions while Dexter does his best serial killer impression for one particularly rude man. That’s my cue to pick up the pace. I run Dexter down a side street and escape. New dog parent problem. I’m going to have to hire a dog nanny just to avoid the press.
Once we’re back at our building where we repeat the hell of being accosted again, but escape quickly with the help of the building staff. Dexter and I tip well with cash and doggy kisses, and we head upstairs. Once we’re there, I feed him, and while he eats, I make coffee and intend to wake up Abbie when Blake calls.
“I’m in hell over here, man,” I say when I answer. “I can’t even take my dog out to pee because of the press.”
“Considering the new developments in the case, that’s expected, don’t you think?”
A bad feeling rushes through me. “What developments?”
My cellphone buzzes with another call. “That’ll be Reese.” Blake says. “He wants to meet you as soon as possible.”
“What the hell is going on, Blake?”
“They have footage of the killer leaving Kenneth’s house.”
I stand taller. “And?”
He hits me with the bombshell details, hard and fast. I listen and remotely remember a promise to call Reese back and something about more security. We disconnect and I’m still shell-shocked, trying to process what I just heard when Abbie walks into the room, looking sexy as hell in a silk robe, her hair a mussed-up mess, her face clean, a smile on her lips. “Good morning.”
Only it’s not. It’s really not. I now have to tell her what Blake just told me.