So she just kept slogging along, hoping that he would see reason soon. And in the meantime, she sent him one little text a day to remind him that she wanted him in her life, that she was willing to try to make this work.
By the time the next week was drawing to a close, though, she was quickly losing hope. She hadn’t seen or heard from Mason in almost two weeks, and it was killing her very slowly.
As she started to type his morning text that Friday, she stopped, deleted what she had, and put her phone away. He clearly wasn’t paying attention anyway.
Besides, she needed to focus on her day. She had to stop by the Finch house and check to make sure the contractors were on schedule and that her designs were on track. She was almost finished with the dining room. The new kitchen cabinets were up, and even though she hated to admit it, they were gorgeous.
The new bannister was in mid-install, and Mrs. Finch had finally accepted every last one of her design concepts for the rest of the house.
At long last, she felt like they were getting somewhere. It was really too bad that every inch of that house reminded her of Mason. She couldn’t even go into the master suite where he had kissed her for the first time without battling a surge of tears.
If Mrs. Finch had noticed, she had the good grace not to say anything. She appreciated that more than she could express.
She lost herself in the long list of things she needed to check off for the day once she was at the house. She needed to test fabric samples against paint colors, finalize the tile choices for the bathroom; the list of details went on and on.
By the time the crews were rolling out of the house, she had finished everything she needed and had survived, at least mostly, without losing her absolute shit. It was the first day in a while that she hadn’t had to take a cry break.
Of course, all that changed once she was back in her car and so alone she could hardly bear it. That’s when the tears came again.
Chapter 29
Mason
Mason noticed that Gabi hadn’t texted him that morning around ten. He waited patiently for it to come through until eleven, and when the entire day had passed without hearing from her, he thought he was going to crawl out of his skin.
Had she finally given up on him?
And if so, wasn’t that what he wanted?
But if that was what he wanted, why did it make him feel so panicked?
He could hardly breathe by the afternoon, and he wondered if he was having some sort of heart attack.
“Do you want to know what I think?” Veronica asked as he was prowling around the showroom, surging with energy, unsure what to do.
He stopped mid-stride and turned to the seventeen-year-old girl hoping she would espouse some sort of life-changing wisdom. Christ, what was wrong with him? “About what?”
She rolled her eyes. “About Gabi, duh.”
Duh indeed. He let out a sigh. “Everyone else has told me what they think, I suppose it’s only fair you get your chance.”
She gave him a hard smile and leaned forward on the desk with her elbows. “Did you know that she’s been helping me learn about interior design?”
His heart thudded and he shook his head.
“She’s been helping me find the right software and search for schools and scholarships so I can get a head start. She’s amazing.” She flipped her long hair off her shoulder. “I only hope I can be half the designer she is someday.”
He sunk into one of his beautiful rocking chairs and stared at Veronica. “She never told me.”
“I’m not surprised,” she answered easily. “She doesn’t seem to be the type of woman that needs to advertise when she’s doing something good for someone else.”
“But isn’t that the type of information you share with your ...” He faded out. He didn’t even know how to define it.
“Your what, boyfriend? Husband?” She shrugged. “Probably, but you weren’t either of those, were you?”
That hit him in the gut with surprising force. “No.”
“Kylie told me a little bit about what happened between you two. Not a lot, just the gist. I’m not going to call you any names, Cruz has done plenty of that, and for the record, I agree with him.”
“Thanks,” he muttered.
“I just want to point out that I understand why she didn’t tell you about her ex-husband. Women are always judged by the decisions they’ve made, by their past mistakes, by the fact that they might be permanently emotionally changed by them.”
She put her hands flat on the counter and narrowed her eyes at him. “When a woman finally breaks free from an abusive relationship, the world doesn’t applaud her. They say, ‘Why were you with him in the first place?’ or ‘You must not have any self-respect; if that were me I’d blah, blah, blah.’ No one ever seems to blame the abuser. It’s always the woman who should have known better, who should have done something different.”
Mason blinked. Abusive relationship?
“If you think about it, for just a minute, you might realize that maybe she didn’t want to be defined by that in your eyes. That maybe she just wanted to be Gabi. Not Gabi that had an asshole husband, not Gabi that had triumphantly broken free from her miserable situation. But just a woman. A beautiful, successful, smart, and caring woman. Free from her past.”
Abusive? His pulse started racing and all he could think about was killing her ex-husband. Had she really gone through all that?
Shit, he was an asshole.
“Oh, God,” he breathed, “I am an asshole.”
“Yes, you are,” she told him. “With respect, of course, I don’t want to lose my job.”
He pushed himself up. “Don’t worry about your job, in fact, I should increase your wage.”
She grinned a little. “I won’t argue that.”
“Okay,” he said, walking a little circle in front of the desk. “I have to figure this out. I have to find her and apologize and pray that she takes me back.”
“Yes, you do,” she said, a smile starting. “You should go now. Just”—she made a sweeping motion with her hands—“go.”
“I will,” he told her. “Thank you, Veronica. I needed to hear that.”
“Pay raise,” she reminded him and shooed him out the door.
Gabi
Gabi’s drive home was painfully slow and made even harder by the tears that kept pouring out of her eyes. She didn’t understand how there could be any moisture at all left inside her. Wasn’t there a limit to the number of tears a human body could produce in a twenty-four-hour period?
She sighed as she pulled into the parking garage and tried to think of a way to tell Kylie she’d rather spend the night alone in her room than watch movies again. It seemed selfish that she just wanted to be alone, especially when Kylie had been so amazing with her.
But tonight, tonight she just wanted a little solitude and maybe some sad music. Plus, then Kylie could spend the night with Cruz and not feel guilty about it. She didn’t want to bring everyone down with her.
She rode the elevator with her head against the side, trying not to think of the amount of inappropriate kissing she and Mason had engaged in the first time he came over. Tried not to think of the embarrassed giggles and red faces they had when the doors came open to a young family on the tenth floor.
Oh, God, it hurt so much.
With a heavy heart, she unlocked her door, turned the lights on, and went to drop her keys on her coffee table.
She froze and stared in confusion. That wasn’t her coffee table. That was the heart-stoppingly beautiful zebrawood table she fell in love with the day she met Mason. Her heart thudded.
Mason.
With a quick intake of breath, she looked around, expecting him to be smiling at her from the corner. She looked in the bedroom and the bathroom, her heart pounding, before she noticed the small folded note on her sofa.
Hands shaking, she grabbed for it.
Mason’s strong, masculine writing made her chest cons
trict, and the moment she read the three simple words, she grabbed her keys and was out the door. The note simply said, “On the roof.”
With no patience for the elevator, Gabi simply dashed up the remaining ten floors and burst out onto the roof as if she had been shot out of a canon.
She let out a small cry when she saw Mason waiting for her, hands in pockets, an unsure smile on his face. Tears sprung to her eyes, and her chest felt so full, she knew it was just moments away from exploding.
“Mason,” she breathed, resisting the urge to throw herself at him. Instead, she stood just outside the door, several feet from the love of her life.
“Gabi,” he said in return. She could hear the raw emotion in his voice, and the fact that he had been suffering without her was all over his face. She wanted to kiss him, take him in her arms and never let him go.
“Mason, I want to explain,” she started, feeling all of the words pile up in her throat and stick. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about Matt. I ...”
She stopped when he stepped forward and took her cheek in his hand. “It’s okay.”
“It is?” she asked, barely able to breathe. It felt so wonderful to feel his hand against her skin.
He nodded. “I think I understand why you didn’t. And I want you to tell me all about it sometime. When you’re ready. Not when I decide.” He brushed his thumb over her lips and she trembled at his touch. “Okay?”
Tears started to fall down her cheeks unchecked. She couldn’t help it. All the words she had practiced for this moment, and he didn’t demand a single one. “Okay,” she said, nodding.
“Gabi, can you forgive me for acting like a total fuckhead?”
She giggled. Kylie had clearly used her signature phrase on him. Happiness crashed through her like a giant wave. She nodded. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”
A smile the likes of which she had never seen broke across his face, and he let out a giant sigh of relief. He snuck his other hand over her hip and tugged her to him. “Oh, God, I’m so relieved, Gabi. I missed you so much.”
She snaked her arms up around his neck, amazed at how at home she felt. “You have?”
“I have,” he assured her and tipped her chin up. “I realized that I never want to spend another day without the woman I love. And I love you, Gabriela Turner.”
Her heart erupted with joy and more tears slipped down her cheeks. “That’s good,” she said, tightening her grip, “because I love you too, Mason Adams.”
She could feel his entire body ease with relief, and before she could think another thought, he was kissing her, his strong lips finally on hers again. She whimpered and kissed him back with everything she had.
At once, everything was better. He loved her. And that was all that mattered.
ePILOGUE
“Wow, woman,” Kylie gushed. “You look amazing.”
She twirled around in her gorgeous new green silk dress and struck a pose. “You really think so?”
She laughed. “Well, Mason hasn’t taken his eyes off your ass since you walked in the room, so I’d say yes.”
“Good,” she said saucily, and turned around to find Mason watching her with a smile from where he and Cruz were chatting. Her heart fluttered for the thousandth time that day.
He always did that to her. Even after six months, it never lessened, never got old. It was just like the first time, and she understood now that she had known from the very beginning that he was the one for her.
“You look gorgeous, too, you know,” Gabi pointed out. Kylie was a vision in navy silk. “Our men are hella lucky.”
She giggled. “That’s for sure,” and grabbed two champagnes off a passing tray. “One for you,” she told Gabi, “and one for me.”
“If it’ll help calm the nerves, I’m in.”
Kylie waved her hand through the air casually. “It’s in the bag, Gabs, on lockdown.”
She felt her stomach vibrate with anxiety as she looked around the bustling room. It was full of talented designers, all dressed to the nines. “I wish I had your confidence.”
“And they wish they had our skills.”
She laughed and downed her champagne. It was a very big deal to even be invited to the International Interior Design Awards, and unthinkable that they were actually nominated for Design of the Year so early in their career.
Not many of the experienced designers were happy with their sudden burst onto the scene with the success of the Finch house. If she didn’t have Kylie and Mason at her side, she would have cracked from the pressure.
“Oh,” Kylie perked up and waved to someone across the room, “there’s George!”
“Dad,” she breathed, thankful that he had made it too. Since he had moved to Chicago, they spent as much time together as possible. He and Mason were almost inseparable.
She shuffled across the room as quickly as she could in four-inch heels and planted a huge red smooch right on his cheek. “Dad, I’m so glad you’re here.”
He threw his arms around her. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world, ladybug. You look beautiful.”
“Hi, Georgie,” Kylie said, sidling up for a group hug.
He opened up an arm and let her in. “My two gorgeous girls, I’m so proud of you both.”
“George,” Mason said from behind, “good to see you.”
Her dad let the girls go, but not without kissing them both on the forehead. “Mason, my man,” he said happily, taking his hand. “It’s good to see you too.” He nodded to the girls. “What do you think your chances are?”
“Dad,” Gabi whined.
But Mason simply answered, “I’d say it’s a sure bet. I’ve looked over the competition. Nothing compares to the Finch house.”
Her heart pounded happily and she planted a kiss on his cheek. “You’re sweet.”
“And you are beautiful,” he said, dipping down to give her a real kiss.
Her dad cleared his throat and averted his eyes.
“My lovelies,” Mrs. Finch cooed, appearing suddenly by their side in a dazzling golden gown, a flute of champagne in her elegant hand. “How are you this evening?”
“Nervous,” Gabi said at the same time Kylie said, “Terrified.”
Mrs. Finch waved a heavily bejeweled hand through the air. “You two have nothing to worry about.”
“That’s what I keep saying,” George told her.
Mrs. Finch’s face brightened with interest as she looked over Gabi’s father. She held out a hand. “And who might you be?”
“This is my father,” Gabi explained.
To her utter shock and amazement, her father grinned, took the offered hand, and kissed it flirtatiously. “George Turner,” he said, looking suddenly more like James Bond in his tux.
“Gwen Finch,” she answered, her voice a little breathy.
Gabi, Kylie, Mason, and Cruz all shared a wide-eyed stare.
“We should probably head in,” Cruz offered uncomfortably. “Looks like the herd is congregating.”
“We should indeed,” Mrs. Finch declared, claiming George’s offered arm.
Shrugging, Kylie happily threaded her arm through Cruz’s, Gabi through Mason’s, and they all made their way to the table with their names on it.
As they sat down, her dad nodded to Mrs. Finch and whispered, “Married?”
Gabi couldn’t help but grin at her dad, and answered, “Widowed.”
Her father smiled. “Good. To. Know.”
She laughed and looked around at everyone at the table, all the people she loved, and her heart was awash in happiness. Her heart was healed.
Mason held her hand tightly under the table the whole night. Through dinner, through the lesser awards, and especially during the build-up to Design of the Year.
The crowd gasped at the images taken of the Finch house and she felt an overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment. They had done that. Her and Kylie and Mason and Cruz. Their touches were everywhere, in each room, and it was beautiful.
>
Mason squeezed her hand tightly and whispered, “I love you forever,” in her ear as the emcee finished presenting the nominated designs.
“I love you too,” she whispered back, shivering from the goosebumps his words gave her.
“And the winner is,” the emcee continued, glancing down at his papers, “G&K Designs in conjunction with AdamsMade.”
It took a moment for it to sink in, and eventually Mason had to pull her up from her seat and push her toward the stage as applause filled the room.
A giggling, crying Kylie took her arm, and they ascended the stage together in complete amazement.
Looking at her friend, she wondered how she had ever gotten so lucky. “Love you, Ky,” she whispered.
“Love you too,” she answered back, her face full of happy disbelief.
Grasping hands tightly, they accepted the award together with their handsome men behind them.
Acknowledgements
A quick word on the content: Gabi’s ex-husband’s behavior is pulled straight from a relationship I survived with a narcissistic abuser, including actual texts. Her embarrassment and reluctance to tell anyone about it is a reflection of my own behavior at the time. Writing this book was an important catharsis for me that allowed me to open up more, understand the disorder, and heal. I write more about this in an upcoming book in The Baxter Boys Series. If you are in a relationship with a narcissistic abuser and need help, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233. Emotional abuse is abuse.
Gabi and Mason’s book would not have happened without the constant encouragement of my friends and family who insisted I continue the Adams Brothers series. I owe my thanks to so many people.
First, to my dear husband Scott, who feeds me in every way possible. I love you forever. Thank you for loving me so fiercely and for making sure I eat regular meals.
To my loving parents, sister, and nephews-you are my foundation and my love for you knows no bounds. Thank you for always lifting me up and having my back.
At Once Page 18