The Mitchell Brothers Collection: A Feel-Good Romance Box Set

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The Mitchell Brothers Collection: A Feel-Good Romance Box Set Page 38

by Jasmin Miller


  Gabe lifts his hand to wave at the other woman, and I’m glad he clued me in on his friends in town over dinner last night, or I might have felt a little odd at this point. “Hey, Kiara. Good to see you.”

  The two embrace in a tight hug before she gives him an obvious once-over. “As good-looking as ever, I see. We’ve missed you around here, stranger. It’s been too long.”

  He nods in response, just as a petite, blonde woman sidles up beside Kiara, looking up at her with a smirk. “You’re such a flirt, babe.” Then her gaze flickers over to Gabe, taking him in. “Even though, I get it. If I wasn’t playing for the other team, I’d…” Her voice trails off as they all stare at him with amused expressions.

  I’m actually surprised he hasn’t blushed yet from all the obvious attention.

  Gabe just waves them off though, his face relaxed. “Hey, Alexa. Looks like marriage is becoming on you.”

  Kiara nods with a big smile on her face. “It’s the best.”

  I’m watching their little exchange in silence, intrigued to see how Gabe is with these strangers. In Brooksville, everyone seems to know everyone, a heartfelt greeting just waiting around the corner. This is almost adding a different facet to his persona, and I like it.

  When I look away from Gabe, Mrs. Johnson’s eyes are on me as she peeks around his body.

  “And who do we have here?” Her eyes, and everyone else’s, are suddenly focused on me. “I’m guessing this is the lovely Monica you’ve told me about?”

  What on earth did he tell her about me?

  Gabe nods. “In the flesh, so please be nice to her.”

  Mrs. Johnson laughs, her hands holding her shaking stomach. “I wouldn’t dream of being anything but that. Welcome to Lake Tahoe, sweetie.” She opens her arms and walks over to me, engulfing me in a big hug before I have any time to react. Her hands give me a tight squeeze before letting me go again. “We’re so happy you’re here. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.”

  Everyone eyes me curiously when Mrs. Johnson steps away from me. Since I don’t know what else to do, I lift up my hand in a slow wave. “Hey, guys. It’s nice to meet you.”

  I immediately want to wipe my hands on my pants, feeling my clammy palms as I tighten them into fists at my side before loosening them. I resist the urge to cross and uncross my arms. It’s not like me to feel like this, but I can’t deny this sudden restlessness. I’m pretty sure it’s as clear as daylight to everyone here too, so I decide to find the only familiar thing—Gabe—and stare at him like he alone can save me right now. He gives me a reassuring smile and closes the distance between us, instantly making me more comfortable. His arm brushes mine briefly, and a soft tingle runs up and down my skin in response.

  Just when I think an inquisition might start, a few women call out various greetings to Kiara, Alexa, and Mrs. Johnson as they push past us to get into the yoga studio.

  “We better head inside. Don't want to start the day with a late class.” Kiara looks at me and smiles. “Are you ready?”

  I nod as if I can’t wait for another second to start class when, in reality, I'm not sure how to handle this social situation. That’s probably one of the first times for me, ever, so I’m more than a little confused. I’ve danced in front of thousands of people before and wasn’t this nervous.

  I really have lost my game.

  Can you get social anxiety after being away from the spotlight for a while?

  Dang it.

  I must have made a face because Kiara gives me a concerned look. “It’ll be fun, I promise. We’ll be there to help, okay?”

  I nod again, not correcting her. No one needs to know what’s going on in my mind right now, especially since I don’t have a clue either. This socially awkward version of me is new and confuses the hell out of me.

  All three women say their goodbyes, leaving Gabe and me alone on the sidewalk.

  I push the strap of my bag higher up on my shoulder. “I better get going.”

  Gabe leans in, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. “You'll do great, stop worrying so much. You’ll find your way back home, right?”

  Of course he’d worry about me getting lost later on.

  “Yup.” That’s all my brain can fabricate, the remainder of his warm touch still lingering on my skin as he turns around with a wave.

  As I watch him walk away, I’m trying really hard not to analyze what on earth is going on with me. Instead, I’m trying to hold on to as much control as I can, buckling up for the new ride I seemed to have stepped on without my knowledge.

  After my yoga session from hell—I absolutely loved it—I pick up a smoothie at a cute place on my way back to the house, slowly strolling down Main Street. My limbs feel like jelly, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. At the same time, I feel oddly relaxed. Talk about getting mixed signals from your body. I always forget how hard yoga can be, especially since I’ve been focusing so much on building up my muscles again the last few months, with only the occasional yoga session at home.

  My straw makes loud slurping noises in the now almost-empty cup when I walk up the driveway to Gabe’s house a few minutes later. I stop dead in my tracks when I see him standing on the porch, and I’m sure I look like a deer caught in the headlights. My eyes are ready to pop out of my head at the sight in front of me, and I’ll probably catch some flies with my open mouth.

  It might just be worth it though.

  Gabe’s standing next to one of the wooden porch posts, his right hand holding on to it while the other one is grasping his left foot behind his thigh for a stretch. I’ve seen him come back from his runs before, so this isn’t an unusual sight. What is though, is his current state of clothing, or more so the lack thereof.

  He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts and nothing else. I think his shirt is on the porch rail next to him, but I’m too mesmerized to take my eyes off him to double-check.

  If my absolute fascination with a half-naked man isn’t a testament to the nonexistence of a sex life, I don’t know what is.

  He goes through a series of stretches while I stand there, quiet as a mouse, enjoying the way his muscles pull and push under his tanned skin. His back is absolutely beautiful, with wide shoulders forming a gorgeous V down to a narrow waist.

  I must have moved my foot without noticing because the gravel under my shoe makes a crunchy noise, and Gabe spins around at the sound.

  Our eyes lock as heat shoots through my whole body, settling between my thighs.

  “Monica.”

  We stare at each other for a long moment without saying a word before the corners of his mouth start twitching. “What are you doing just standing there?”

  The tone in his voice is light and nonchalant, maybe even a little teasing, as he comes down the porch and walks toward me. His stride is slow and confident, making little sparks fly up the back of my neck.

  I gulp as I try to keep my gaze on his face but fail miserably. His chest is just as glorious as his back—muscular without being bulky, with lots of tanned skin, and just the right amount of chest hair.

  Seeing him like this makes my fingers tingle in excitement.

  He clears his throat when he comes to a stop in front of me.

  “What am I doing?” The words come out in a squeaky tone.

  He nods.

  I realize it’s pointless to pretend I didn’t just check him out. Might as well use it to my advantage. “Just enjoying the show.”

  His amusement is clearly mirrored in his eyes as he shakes his head and chuckles. “Oh, Monica, what am I ever gonna do with you?”

  My brain seems to have taken a vacation because my mouth keeps spilling out way too many of my thoughts without a filter. “I might have a few ideas.”

  I cringe internally at my response, but Gabe just laughs it off. It’s low and sexy as hell, and does weird things to my belly. Not that I blame him for laughing. I’m pretty sure I look like I’ve never seen a naked guy before, and he isn’t even
fully naked.

  Some of the best parts are still covered up.

  But I better not think about that, right?

  It’s been too long since I’ve been with a guy, and it’s definitely showing more by the minute.

  Plus, this is Gabe I’m eyeballing right now. I promised myself I wouldn’t do anything but casual anymore, and I don’t think he’s the casual type of guy. At least, I’ve never once seen him with a woman in all the time we’ve lived together.

  He puts his T-shirt back on, and I have to bite my tongue to keep the words of protest to myself that want to fly out of my mouth.

  Bummer.

  “How was yoga?”

  Yoga? Yoga! Gabe got me so distracted he wiped out all of my previous thoughts.

  “Torture.” Apparently, my brain is still a bit challenged, not capable of getting out anything but one-word answers.

  “Come on, crazy girl. I’ll make us some lunch after my shower, and you can tell me all about your torturous yoga session.”

  I sigh, feeling like someone just took away my favorite toy. My brain can’t seem to decide if it’s a good idea the temptation is no longer on a naked platter, so to speak, or if I should stomp my feet on the ground to show my disapproval over said skin coverage.

  In the end, my rational part joins the party, telling me to stop playing around. My attraction to Gabe obviously isn’t an issue—it was there from the first time I laid eyes on his handsome face—but things have changed in the last year.

  Under normal circumstances, maybe, just maybe, I would have considered starting something with him when I first came to Brooksville last year. But with my injury, dealing with the pain, and the rehab, it all felt too awkward and just wrong to do. Once I realized my leg wouldn’t heal as quickly as doctors first thought, I didn’t have it in me to even think about my sex life.

  Now, these thoughts suddenly seem to be back with a vengeance, more intense than ever, and I’m ready to drool over him all day long. The worry about screwing this up with him—and therefore the many relationships around us too—is still a lot bigger though, at least when the rational part of my brain is in control. Having Gabe’s future sister-in-law be my best friend complicates things, and the last thing I want is to make a mess of things.

  No one needs that chaos.

  Especially not Charlie and Hudson, who are set to be married next year.

  Suppressing the frustrating sigh that wants to escape my throat, I try to be good and put on my invisible responsibility hat. It’s not like he’s shown any real interest anyway.

  I think at least.

  Would that even change things?

  I force a smile on my face and nod. “All right. Only if you make your yummy stir-fry though. Yoga was really awful, so I might need lots of delicious food.”

  He gives me a triumphant look, probably knowing he had me from the moment he mentioned food.

  Let’s hope I can keep my appetite for Gabe in check.

  I’m afraid once I get a taste of that delicacy, I might not ever want to stop.

  Six

  Monica

  We took the rest of the day easy and ended it by ordering a pizza. Since Gabe had to take a phone call with his agent a while ago, I grabbed some wine and went out back.

  Even though we’ve only been here for a few days, I’m already in love with this place. The porch in the back is just as big and comforting as the one in the front. Gabe—or more so his sisters, I guess—did an excellent job with the decorating here as well. Everything’s made up in a nautical theme, the same one I’ve seen not only in Hudson’s house, but also their mother’s. Lots of white and blue, seashells, and ocean decor. It’s beautiful and calming.

  “There you are.” Gabe’s voice drifts over to me before he comes into view. “I looked everywhere for you when I couldn’t find you in your room.”

  I sit up higher on the chaise lounge that’s surprisingly comfortable due to the big padded cushions. “I thought it would be a great night to watch the sunset.”

  “There’s not a cloud in the sky so it should be a good one.” He walks over to me, his shoes hitting the wooden floor the only noise. The rocking chair on the other side of the small table next to me creaks loudly when he sits down. A tired sigh escapes his lips and his eyes close for a moment as he gently rocks back and forth.

  Despite having a way with words, Gabe usually isn’t the biggest talker. I’ve always wondered if he uses most of his words for his stories, even though there’s a big difference between good and bad silence. This moment seems to fall into the latter category if I’m not misreading the frown on his face and the tenseness in his jaw.

  “Everything okay?”

  He shrugs his shoulders but keeps his eyes shut.

  “Trouble with your agent?” Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t let it go. There’s this nagging feeling inside of me that needs to make sure he’s okay. I know a lot of times, I can’t do more than offer to listen, but I want him to succeed in life and hate when he’s so down about his job.

  Absolutely hate it.

  His eyes open lazily and he looks at me, still not saying anything.

  I resist the urge to squirm under his gaze and get busy filling up both of the wine glasses I brought outside with me—just in case he decided to join me.

  He tilts his head for a moment as I hand him one, but doesn’t seem overly surprised I came prepared. We do enough things together that it’s easier to come prepared for the other one, just in case.

  “Thank you.”

  “I found it in the kitchen. I hope it was okay to open.”

  “Of course.” He lifts the glass to his lips, and I see him flinch the slightest bit when the sweetness hits his taste buds.

  “You don’t like it? Do you want me to get you something else?” I take a sip of my own wine, enjoying the fruity taste as it runs down my throat.

  “No, I’m good. Thank you.”

  I nod before studying him for a moment. “So? Trouble with your agent?”

  He sighs again. “Not really trouble. Just a slap on the wrist.” Without warning, his whole face suddenly transforms as one corner of his mouth pulls up into a lopsided smirk, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. “I guess I’ve been naughty.”

  The words are barely out of his mouth when we both start laughing. Imagining Gabe doing anything really naughty, at least when it comes to his professional life, seems almost comical.

  I try and hold my wine glass steady as my body continues to shake. “No way. I can’t picture you like that. You’re an A-plus student, Mr. Goody Two-Shoes and all that, not someone who gets in trouble at his job. Or anything else, for that matter. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as nice as you.”

  Even though the words came out of my own mouth, they stun me. I didn’t realize the truth of that statement until it just spilled out.

  He truly is the nicest guy I’ve ever met. Through and through.

  Gabe’s gaze holds mine, but for a flicker of a second, it strays away to my body before returning to my face. “You’re right. I’ve never gotten in trouble at school or work. That doesn’t mean I can’t be naughty though.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  He gives me a wink that does weird things to my stomach, but before I can try to figure out what to make of it all, the playful expression on his face is gone. He turns away from me, looking over the large backyard, with the oval pool nestled in the middle of the green lawn, the lake sparkling in the distance. “This time I deserved it though.”

  I sit up straighter, stretching my legs in front of me. “Why’s that?”

  “Because my deadline is approaching rather fast, and I still haven’t delivered anything to my agent. She’s starting to freak out for the both of us.” His face has morphed into a tight mask, making me want to smooth out the deep frown that has settled on his forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bug you with this. It’s not your problem.”

  Somehow that comment sends a wave of fr
ustration through my body. Putting my wine glass on the table, I lean forward, suddenly feeling fidgety and ready for a fight if necessary. “Gabe, why would you say something like that? You know you can talk to me about stuff. We’re friends, for goodness’ sake, aren’t we?”

  I’m not sure why I ask him so bluntly, or why my breath hitches for a moment, like I’m anxious to hear his answer. Neither one of us is very emotional or talkative when it comes to personal stuff, so this shouldn’t be a huge surprise. Yet, all I know is there’s a sudden painful tightness in my throat while I wait for his reply, trying to ignore the hardening in my stomach.

  “Of course we are. You don’t even have to ask. I wouldn’t let you live with me, let alone spend most of my free time with you, if we weren’t.” The words come out of his mouth with an intensity that crackles between us like an invisible force as we continue to stare at each other in silence. The only noise around us is the soft water sounds in the background and the occasional bird. Then, the smirk from earlier returns. “Even if you’re a little crazy.”

  I take the pillow from behind my back and throw it right at his face. To my dismay, he catches it last-minute and starts laughing.

  Just like that, all the built-up tension leaves my body.

  “Am not.” I pretend to pout, but I don’t think I succeed.

  “Are too.” He holds the pillow close to his chest, the playful smile on his face giving him almost boyish looks.

  I want to see him like this more often, this carefree and happy.

  He’s always so intense about his work, so deep in thought, trying to figure out whatever plot point he’s working on, that he often walks around with a frown. Or maybe that’s just what it seems like to me since I see him “at work” in his own house all the time.

  His brown eyes study me, and I wonder if he’s contemplating another comeback. We used to have more of these fun back-and-forth exchanges, but haven’t in a while. If I’m honest, that one is probably on me and the depressive hole that tried to swallow me whole this last year.

 

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