by Cathy Quinn
He chuckled once more and straightened up, rubbing his abdomen. "Ouch. You’re a one woman comedy act, Alice. The guy you end up with isn’t going to need sit-ups if he spends his life with you."
"Well, will you go out with me?"
He stood up and bowed formally, still smirking. "Yes, Alice. I’ll go out with you."
Alice stared up at him. This was a bit too easy. "Really?"
Gabriel had a wicked glint in his eyes. "Of course. I mean -- how can I resist becoming a notch in your ABC?"
"Mission accomplished!" Alice announced, flopping down opposite Susan. "I have a date with Gabriel!"
Susan cheered. "Yay! Good for you! Did you sashay and coo?"
"Er, no. I’ll save that for a special occasion."
"Where is he taking you?"
"Hmm. Good question. Of course, I’m taking him – so I guess it’s up to me. Hm. Suggestions?"
"Dinner is best," Susan decided. "I mean – it’s not exactly original, but always a classic." She frowned. "But where to?"
"Gabriel likes Thai food."
"Fine. But make sure you go someplace really romantic. You’re already friends, so a romantic setting is essential for him to see you as a Temptress instead of a Tomboy. Good food and wine and some stimulating conversation..." She winked. "You’ll get him. Better start figuring out what you’re going to do with him once he’s all yours."
"Mmmm..." Alice said dreamily. "Don’t worry. I’m hard at work."
Why the hell had he agreed to a date with Alice?
Gabriel furiously ripped some old wires out of the bedroom ceiling, and wished one of the walls needed demolishing. He could use some quality time with a sledgehammer – and an excuse to buy one.
He could start on rearranging his own head. His brain had obviously gone AWOL anyway.
What had happened to his principles? She was off-limits. She was Michael’s sister. She was his friend. He didn’t want to hurt her. Hell, he didn’t want to have his nose rearranged by Michael, and that should be reason enough – he did not need to be all sentimental about this.
On top of everything, this was terrible timing. He had another woman to concentrate on.
He paused, thinking about Alice, and the way she’d lured him into going out with her. She’d dressed for maximum effect, and acted like a seasoned huntress out to catch a male pray.
Where had she learned that, anyway?
Alice was on the prowl and there was no stopping her. And she wanted him.
It was flattering, and at times amusing, and, unfortunately, far, far too tempting. She was... perfect for him.
Perfect -- and forbidden.
He gave the wires a vicious yank and age-old debris swirled down from the hole in the ceiling.
He had a date with Alice in an hour. He was supposed to pick her up in half an hour, and she’d instructed him to dress fancy, and he wouldn’t even be presentable in a pig-sty right now.
Gabriel jumped off the ladder and yanked off his dirty t-shirt. He headed for the shower, grumbling.
He’d go. Of course he’d go. A promise was a promise.
But a date was not necessarily a date.
Chapter 10
He was late. Only five minutes late, but she was still gnashing her teeth and pacing by the door, convinced he’d stood her up. He’d said he’d pick her up – she should have refused and said she’d be the one to pick him up. After all, she’d asked him out.
If he didn’t show up... then what? How far would she chase that man?
She didn’t manage to formulate her thoughts, because the doorbell chimed. She walked all the way to the far end of her bedroom and back to the door. No need to rush. He hadn’t rushed on her account.
Her icy attitude melted quickly when she saw him.
"Oh, my God," she breathed, forgetting all about being cool and sophisticated. She was probably breaking several rules of the 21st century woman, but she didn’t much care.
Gabriel looked behind him, then all around. "What? What’s wrong?"
"Oh, God," was all she could croak.
"Is it me?" She nodded and he looked down at himself. "What is it? Did I get something on my clothes?"
She shook her head mutely.
"What is it then?"
She just kept staring, her mouth hanging open.
"What is it, Alice?" Gabriel said impatiently. "Am I overdressed or something?"
"Oh, my God."
"Alice! What the hell is wrong with you? What’s the problem?"
"You. You look amazing." She closed the door behind him and stared. White cotton dress shirt. Sleeves rolled up. Drool. "Do you realize how long it’s been since I’ve seen you in anything but old jeans and neon colored t-shirts?"
"That’s not—"
"You take my breath away."
"It’s just an ordinary—"
"Gabriel, you are gorgeous!"
Overkill? It was true. And she could have sworn he blushed. He also shook his head in disgust and thrust at her a delicate bouquet of flowers. He’d brought flowers! "Here. They need water. And don’t be ridiculous."
Alice bent her head and smelled the flowers, feeling ridiculously happy. "They’re lovely, Gabriel. Thank you. And I’m serious. I mean – you can be an utter idiot and all that, but, wow, you turned my knees weak when I saw you just now."
He rolled his eyes. "Another romantic fantasy."
"Weak knees?" She laughed. "Oh, no, they’re real. Trust me. I think that’s why men always sweep their women up in their arms in the movies. Weak knees."
"Well, solidify your knees. I’m not carrying you."
He was embarrassed. Excellent. She grinned to herself and took his arm. "Let’s go, Gabriel. And by the way – for future reference – you’re supposed to say I look nice too."
"You look nice."
"Thank you," she said dryly, but smiled at him because he’d brought her flowers and dressed up. "That came from the heart. I can tell."
"Now, remember," Gabriel said before he started the car, "This is not a real date."
What?
Alice’s heart fell, landing somewhere near her appendix. She wanted to club him over the head with her purse, but made do with a dignified raising of the eyebrows. She was a lady after all. She was a Temptress in training, and one of these days she’d get the hang of it.
And he was the hapless prey, futilely fleeing from his destiny.
"I’m just a stand-in for Mr. G, remember?" Gabriel continued, and she considered giving her new stun gun a try. "So, not a real date. Pretend I’m a stranger. You can use me as practice."
Practice?
Alice pouted. Target practice, definitely!
But if he’d gotten cold feet, she’d let him live the illusion for now. There was plenty of time to reel him in. "Fine," she said sweetly. "You’re Mr. ‘Nameless, Faceless Internet Jerk’. Got it. Start the car, Mr. Jerk."
She was still sulking by the time they sat down in the fancy romantic restaurant she’d chosen.
Practice?
Not a real date?
Fine. She’d show him.
She noticed him looking at her, rather appreciatory too, no doubt thanks to Dress Skimpy.
This was the perfect opportunity to teach him a lesson.
Alice had told him he looked gorgeous, and he hadn’t returned the compliment, because he didn’t dare. He’d probably lose control of himself and start drooling. Not that he hadn’t looked plenty at Alice over the years. He’d seen her in everything from shorts to a bridesmaid’s dress, but that tiny red dress laid waste to all his secret fantasies.
Wow.
He wasn’t altogether sure it was even decent. Not for the first time, he glanced around, ready to whisk of his jacket to cover her up if anyone started ogling her. Fortunately they were seated privately so nobody would have the chance to look at her.
Nobody except him.
She was all his. Just the way he wanted her.
"I don’t believe you ju
st did that, Gabriel!" Alice suddenly spat at him, angry sparks shooting off her.
Oh, damn. What had he done now?
"That’s inexcusably rude!" she continued. "I thought you were a gentleman!"
"What did I do?" he asked, mystified.
"You just undressed me with your eyes. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?"
Gabriel looked up to the fancy ceiling. Why him? What had he done to deserve this? "I did not undress you with my eyes. If – in a very very hypothetical scenario, Alice! – I were going to undress you, I’d use my hands. I might even use my teeth, and I’d be willing to have a go at it with my toes if you were feeling really kinky, but I do not use my eyes."
His wit was wasted on her. "You do undress women with your eyes. You just did it to me, and this is supposedly not even a real date!" She sneered. "Just practice, right?"
Gabriel rested his head in his hands and groaned. "Alice, I just looked at you. You look wonderful. I was just admiring you. It should be a compliment, not an insult. I wasn’t leering!"
Alice looked appeased for a split second, before continuing her tirade. One of these days, he had to teach her a lesson. He wasn’t sure what that lesson was, but he rather wished it involved a lot of body contact, and started wondering if he had suddenly developed a spanking fetish.
"You looked me up and down, and you were definitely undressing me with your eyes. I’ve seen it before, but I wouldn’t have expected it of you. I thought you were more sophisticated. That’s so juvenile. Men should not be ogling women on the first date. It’s rude."
"Believe me honey, I do my ogling and leering long before the first date," he drawled.
She gasped. "You do?"
"Don’t you?"
"Ogle men? No! Not like that! Well..." she conceded. She bit her lip and appeared to be discussing the subject with her conscience. "Okay," she confessed. "Occasionally I do. Really gorgeous guys. You know. Special cases only."
"Gorgeous guys only?" he said, just to remind her that she’d used that word to describe him only minutes ago. Her red cheeks showed him that she remembered, and he chuckled at the way she vacillated between aggression and shyness. It was adorable. She nodded, silent for once.
He saluted her. "There you go. You’re just as guilty as I am."
Alice sipped her drink and looked him over. Slowly. He chuckled. "What is this? Payback?"
"Yep. I’m imagining you naked."
Gabriel managed to choke on a drink of water. "What?"
"You started it!" she protested.
"I did not imagine you naked!" he protested, not altogether truthfully.
"Ssssh, Gabriel, lower your voice, please! And you did admit you were undressing me with your eyes!"
Gabriel looked around and noticed a few people craning their necks to look their way.
"Are you saying you didn’t imagine me naked?" she whispered.
"No! I mean, yes! Of course I didn’t!"
"Why not?" If possible, she sounded even more offended this time. He sighed. She did need a good spanking... "I was too busy arguing with you. You know the male mind. We can only do one thing at a time."
"Why isn’t this a real date?"
"How many reasons do you want?
"One – if it’s good enough. Because I know you want me."
He raised an eyebrow and tried to look partly amused, partly bored. "Sure of yourself, are you?"
She didn’t seem fooled. "Deny it, Gabriel. If it’s true, deny it."
He looked away. "This is not a real date because you want side-by-side burial plots, roses and romance." Because you’re my best friend’s little sister. Because you’re my friend, and I don’t want to lose that. Because I don’t want you to get hurt. Most of all, because I don’t want to hurt you.
"But not because you don’t want me," Alice said, satisfied.
"Michael would cut off my head if I so much as looked at you." Gabriel looked around for a waiter. He needed a strong drink. Hell, he needed the whole bottle. "If he finds out about this ‘date’ of ours, I may be in serious trouble."
"You can handle one overprotective big brother, can’t you? Hey, a couple more lessons in the gym, and I can handle Michael myself."
In the absence of something stronger, he gulped down more water. "You’re changing the rules, Alice. We don’t know each other, remember? We just met twenty minutes ago. I’m Mr. G, Internet Jerk, at your service."
"Right. My seventh blind date." She leaned back and her expression changed. "So..."
He waited. "So, what?"
She snorted. "You’re supposed to be the master at blind-date small talk that doesn’t reveal personal information. Remember?"
"Okay. Fine. So, do you like sports?"
"You know I hate... oh." Alice got more comfortable in her seat and got into the playacting. "Oh, yes, sports are great, Mr. Internet Axe Murderer. What kind of sports are you into?"
"I’m a basketball fan."
Alice dug deep for any basketball information, and came up almost empty. Tall sweaty guys and a big orange ball. That was about it. "How nice," she said lamely. "Basketball. It’s fascinating."
"You like basketball? That’s terrific. Maybe we could catch a game together sometime."
"That would be fun!" she said – almost enthusiastically.
Gabriel made a time-out sign. "Alice, why are you pretending to like basketball?"
"I’m making small-talk and being nice and friendly towards my blind date."
"You’re also projecting a false image of yourself. Why didn’t you just tell him you weren’t into sports?"
"I... don’t know. Should I?"
"Just be yourself."
Gabriel leaned on his elbow, grinned at her and went back to the game. He seemed to like playing this game. Probably because it was safer than reality, she thought grouchily.
"So, shall we catch a game next weekend?" he asked.
Alice smiled sweetly and got down to being herself. "I’d rather spend my Saturday scrubbing public toilets until I expire from overexposure to toxic fumes."
Hm. He was right. Honesty felt so much better!
Gabriel stared at her, then gave a sound that was either a chuckle or a groan. The way he closed his eyes and slid low in his seat, covering his face with his hands, was a clue as to which it was.
"What? You said I should be honest."
"Honest. Honest, Alice. Not hostile. There is a middle ground."
Alice sighed. "You’re a much more difficult date than the A through F’s were. Okay. I’ll try again." She put on a smile. "I’m afraid sports bore me to tears. Everything except curling. Fascinating."
Gabriel stared at her. "Curling? Brooms on ice? You actually like curling?"
"Oh, yes. Men with brooms. Who can resist that? Are you good with a broom?"
Gabriel didn’t answer, just stared at her, brows narrowed.
"What?"
"I’m trying to discover if there was a double entendre in all that broom talk. I think I may be too innocent to figure it out."
Alice giggled. "Well, you spent your first self-defense classes wrapped around a broom, didn’t you? You should know. How are the classes going, anyway?"
"Fine."
"Miss me?"
"It’s not the same without you."
Damn, she wished she had a way of figuring out when he was telling the truth and when it was just that subtle ironic humor of his.
"But this self-defense thing.... does it really work?"
"What do you mean, does it work?"
Alice gestured with her fork. "Can a small woman really stand up to a much bigger and stronger man -- and win a physical fight?"
Gabriel shrugged. "She may not be able to win, as in overpowering him. But she has a good chance of escaping. And she has a good chance of showing her attacker that she’s more trouble than she’s worth. Of course, there’s always a chance it backfires – it can be more dangerous to fight back." He shook his head. "Then there’s domestic
abuse, which happens on a regular basis. How do you teach a woman to defend herself from her husband? It’s not simple, and there are no guarantees anything I teach them will work. It might make things worse instead.."
"I’ll never understand why women stay in that kind of a relationship," Alice said. "It’s just unbelievable. How can they let it happen again and again? Women have to be fatally flawed to accept treatment like that..."
"Hope," Gabriel interrupted in a harsh voice that stopped her indignant speech.
"What?"
"It’s called hope, Alice. Hope that the one you love will stop hurting you. Hope that the love and commitment you’ve invested a lifetime in is worth something. Hope that it will never happen again. These women don’t deserve your scorn."
"I don’t scorn them, Gabriel! I just don’t understand why they don’t leave. I know it’s often not easy, but it has to be better than the alternative!"
"I know," Gabriel muttered. "It’s hard to understand. I’m hoping the classes do some good. That they go away with a little bit of confidence." He shrugged. "It’s more common than we think. So well hidden."