by Nalini Singh
Plucking out one of the flowers, she took it into Gabriel's office. He was standing by the window, arguing with someone on the other end of the phone, but waved her in. Going up to him, she wrapped her arms around him from behind, the text flower held in one hand.
She felt his smile in the way he closed his hand over her own, though the tone of his negotiation never changed. Dropping a kiss on his back, she put the flower by the small electronic calendar to one side of his desk and was about to leave when he turned to scrawl a note to her on the back of a draft report for the board.
Expecting it to be an instruction about something he needed for the call, she was surprised to find: Mac had an appointment cancel at three thirty.
Her chest grew tight but she gave him a nod, and when the time came around, got in the car with him to drive to the psychologist's office. It was only when she read the name on the door of the office that she realized Dr. Mac was actually Dr. Thomas McCauley. Then his secretary showed them in, and she almost burst out laughing. Santa Claus had gone completely bald and clipped his beard.
He was roly-poly though, and short. The latter comforted her. Her father had been short. Much thinner than Dr. Mac, but of the same height and with the same gentle eyes.
"Gabriel," he said, rising to shake Gabriel's hand. "This must be your Ms. Baird."
"Charlotte."
Dr. Mac's touch was firm but not too hard when he clasped both his hands warmly around her own. "Charlotte. It's lovely to meet you--what are you doing with this guy?"
"She has excellent taste," Gabriel said.
The doctor chuckled. "And you have a healthy ego."
Smiling at the affection in the doctor's tone and relying on instincts she'd distrusted for a long time after Richard, Charlotte turned to Gabriel. "I think I'll be all right."
He didn't second-guess her, just said, "I'll wait outside."
"Take a break and read a magazine," the doctor ordered him. "Don't scare my secretary by yelling at competitors on your phone."
Since Gabriel was already sliding out his phone, that just made him grin. He pulled the door closed behind him with a look at Charlotte that said he'd be there in a heartbeat if she needed him.
Turning to the doctor after the door shut, Charlotte took a deep, shaky breath. "So, how does this work?"
Gabriel wasn't used to waiting. He was used to doing. So he did what he could--which was work. Rather than taking over Dr. Mac's waiting room, he stepped out onto the verandah of the white-painted villa the doc used as his office. He made sure he was always within hearing distance in case Charlotte had a panic attack and needed him.
But forty-five minutes after Gabriel had closed the door on the doctor and Charlotte, it opened again and Charlotte walked out. Her eyes were red, but there was a smile on her face when she said good-bye to Dr. Mac. Afterward, she came straight into Gabriel's arms.
"Okay?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair.
"Yeah." Her voice was a little husky. "He's a nice man."
Walking her to the SUV, he gave her a boost into the passenger seat just because he liked touching her, then stood in the open doorway. "I'm nicer."
She took hold of his tie and tugged him to her for a kiss. "Yes, you are."
He tapped her cheek. "So you're comfortable with him?"
"Yes. He made me feel as if I could go at my own pace, that he was in no rush." A fierce smile. "But I'm ready to be done with this."
Gabriel wasn't sure it would be that easy, but he was in this for the long haul. Charlotte was his--it was as simple and as immutable as that.
With it being winter-dark by six thirty, Charlotte grabbed a taxi home after work. Gabriel had left at five to make his coaching session at the high school a half hour later--the interruptions to his workday meant he'd have to put in several more hours on Saxon & Archer business after the session finished, but he'd made a commitment to the team, and Gabriel took that seriously.
He'd scowled when she turned down his offer of a ride home because she wanted to finish up some work, but she stood her ground. She didn't want him to babysit her, and he didn't have to. Not yet. Because once Richard was out, Charlotte knew there'd be times when she wouldn't be able to let Gabriel out of her sight.
Not because she was afraid for herself, but because she couldn't bear it if Richard hurt him. The man she'd seen as a handsome, sunny boy so long ago knew how to hold a grudge, to stew and plan, and he was evil enough to come after the people who mattered most to her. Molly was safely out of reach, but Gabriel wasn't.
He'll be safe. He is safe.
Repeating that silently to herself, she got out of the taxi at the top of her drive. Her neighbors were outside chatting, and after she collected her mail from the mailbox, she joined them for a few minutes before heading down to her town house. She'd miss it when she had to move into the apartment, but her decision made sense.
It was time she began to pack enough things that she wouldn't constantly have to come back here. Might as well start tonight, since she had a hunch Gabriel would be dropping by after the coaching session. She'd put him to good use, hauling boxes--or maybe they'd indulge in another form of exercise, she thought with a wicked smile.
It'd give him a break before he dug into work again.
Charlotte frowned as she changed out of her office clothes into stretchy black pants and her green cardigan with the three-quarter-length sleeves. She could understand Gabriel's need to catch up on work today, as she'd understood the hours he'd pulled the first couple of months, but the man needed more balance in his life. Saxon & Archer was in a much better position, thanks to him. He could afford to take a breath now and then.
Musing about how to make that happen, she gave in to temptation and dug up one of the peach-and-passion-fruit muffins she'd frozen after making a batch two weeks ago. A quick minute in the microwave to defrost it and she put it on a saucer to nibble at while she stood at the kitchen table checking the mail.
Her electricity bill usually came now. Which reminded her, she had to switch to electronic invoices. There it was, the envelope a distinctive yellow. Opening it, she saw no surprises and set it aside. She laughed at seeing the next item in the pile. Molly had sent her a postcard from Las Vegas, the picture of a purple-jumpsuit-clad Elvis impersonator in full crotch-circling move.
Miss you bunches. Love you even more. xo Molly
p.s. Elvis says sequins are always in.
Instead of pinning it to the fridge, Charlotte kept it aside to take with her to the new apartment. The rest of the pile was made up of advertising mailers, except for a small envelope that had become stuck between the pages of a department store catalog. She frowned, not recognizing the handwriting. Then she saw the return address.
The biggest prison in the country.
Gorge rising and knees going weak, she collapsed into a chair, the half-eaten muffin falling out of her fingers to hit the table. Everything in her shook. She dropped the envelope, stared at it, jumping when a horn beeped outside. Her eyes caught the clock on the wall as her mind figured out the beep had been for her neighbor, and she realized she'd been sitting there for fifteen minutes.
No, the bastard was not stealing any more of her life.
However, when she went to pick up the envelope to throw it away, she couldn't. She had to know what it said, but she couldn't open it alone. Yesterday, that would've made her feel weak, broken. Today, she had Dr. Mac's voice in her head, telling her it was okay to need people to help her through the dark times.
"Wouldn't you do the same for Gabriel or your best friend if it ever came to it?" he'd said gently. "Strength doesn't mean never relying on anyone. And knowing him as I do, I can tell you that it would break Gabriel's heart if you didn't allow him to bear some of the weight. That's who he is."
Getting up on that thought, she left the kitchen to pack up some clothes. When Gabriel messaged to say he was swinging by and that he'd picked up dinner, she allowed herself to feel happily reli
eved. "Hey," she said when she opened the door for him.
He'd showered after the coaching session where he'd no doubt gotten on the field with the boys, then thrown on jeans and a white T-shirt. Not many people saw him like this, with his hair messily damp and his feet bare--he'd kicked off his shoes as soon as he stepped inside. Maybe it was silly, but it made her feel special, trusted, as if she'd been allowed to see him without his armor.
"Hey." He placed the food he'd bought on the hallway table and crooked a finger.
Bracing herself with her palms on the solid wall of his chest, she rose on tiptoe. He bent, meeting her halfway, the kiss hot and deep as it always was with Gabriel. She loved that he was so openly voracious for her, loved the taste of him. Sliding one hand to the side of his neck, the strength of him warm and solid under her touch, she gave him whatever he wanted.
Nothing felt as good as making Gabriel groan in the back of his throat, his hands clenching on her hips before he slid his fingers lower down to cup her butt. When he lifted, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Holding her easily with one arm while sliding his other one over her thigh, he bit at her lower lip. "I like these pants." His fingers flexed under her buttocks.
She flushed, realizing the soft, stretchy fabric gave him easy access to her body. "I like these pants too," she said, because she liked his hands on her. "You shaved." His jaw was smooth under her fingertips.
"I thought I'd be civilized today and not mark up your pretty skin." A suckling kiss. "At least not with my jaw. I might just bite you instead."
Charlotte didn't know what made her do it. She leaned forward and bit down on that smooth jaw, the scent of his aftershave in her lungs. His hand flexed again. "Biting the boss, Ms. Baird?"
"I think this boss could do with some biting."
Chuckling, he said, "Want to eat? Or should I just eat you?"
"Gabriel."
"Ms. Baird."
"You should put me down."
"Why?"
"I'm heavy."
He snorted, shoulders shaking. Shoving at those shoulders when he started laughing so hard he couldn't speak, she tried not to laugh with him. It was too difficult and it was the last thing she'd have thought she'd be doing when she'd received the letter. The reminder though, it stole the laughter.
Gabriel's eyes immediately zeroed in on her face. Putting her down on her feet, he said, "What's the matter?"
"Dick sent me a letter."
His expression went hard and flat. "What does the bastard want?"
"I don't know. I didn't read it. I was waiting for you."
The words sliced through Gabriel's anger. "Want me to read it?" He didn't want that piece of scum anywhere near Charlotte, even if only through his words.
But Charlotte shook her head and led him into the kitchen. "I need to do this. If he writes to me again, I'll throw it in the trash, but I need to read this first one, find out what he thinks he has to say to me after all this time."
Gabriel could understand her need, but he still had to grit his teeth to keep from taking the envelope and tearing it to shreds. Especially when her fingers trembled as she slit the envelope open.
32
Bad, Bad, Bad Words
Tucking Charlotte close, Gabriel said, "He can't touch you. I'll break him in half if he tries to lay so much as a finger on you."
A shaky smile from Charlotte as she pulled out the letter.
Gabriel read it along with her. The bastard had written how sorry he was, how he'd tried to write before but the prison authorities wouldn't permit it. They had okayed this letter because he was about to get out and it was considered a healthy sign of rehabilitation that he wanted to apologize to his victim to give her "closure."
That wasn't me, Charlotte. I don't know what happened that weekend, who I became, but I take full responsibility for it. It's important I do that. It's on me. It had nothing to do with you and how we broke up. It wasn't your fault you couldn't give me what I needed--I shouldn't have taken out my annoyance on you. I hope one day you can forgive me.
The fucking psychopath had the nerve to sign it "Love, Richard."
"Passive-aggressive bullshit," Gabriel snarled, unable to keep his mouth shut any longer.
"Manipulative," Charlotte said. "That's always been his MO." She lifted the letter, went to rip it up, then frowned. "I'm going to give this to Detective Lee, just in case."
"Good idea." If Richard did come after her again, Gabriel wanted him locked up for the rest of his miserable life. "You okay?"
A wondering expression on Charlotte's face. "Yes. He's been the bogeyman for so long, but now that I've read this, I see him for the pathetic, manipulative son of a bitch that he really is." She threw the letter down on the table. "He was such a big man when he ambushed me, had me alone, that pencil-dicked, scum-sucking fuckwit!"
Gabriel had never heard Charlotte swear. It was impressive.
It got even more impressive.
"Closure, my ass! That slimy excuse for a human being just wanted to get inside my head. Fuck that!" She poked Gabriel in the chest. "Annoyance? Annoyance? I'll show that ass-faced peckerhead annoyance! His name shouldn't be Dick. It should be Dickweasel Shit for Brains!"
Leaning with his forearm on the counter when Charlotte swept past him, Gabriel grinned as she marched around the kitchen, slamming pots and pans together and pouring flour into a bowl, taking out cocoa and chocolate chips and eggs and vanilla pods, other things he couldn't identify. He decided not to remind her he'd picked up dinner and it was going cold.
Instead, he stole chocolate chips from across the counter, said, "Yes," and "Absolutely" when she paused in her diatribe to wait for a response. The question was usually something along the lines of: Don't you think so? after she'd murdered Richard's character in ever more creative ways.
It wasn't until the smell of muffins baking permeated the kitchen and Charlotte had hand washed the dishes--with more banging and clattering--that she began to calm down. Exhaling, she turned to him. "I didn't know I had that in me."
He kissed her cheek, adoring her. "That's my Ms. Baird."
The blush was back, pink and pretty. "I have to remember all the bad words I used so I can tell Molly."
"Dickweasel?"
"It seemed appropriate."
Chuckling, Gabriel went and got the food he'd left on the hallway table. "Come on, let's reheat this and eat and you can tell me what some of those words mean. I grew up on a rugby field, but Jesus, baby, I have no idea where you learned all that."
"You should read more" was the prim response from the tiny blond Valkyrie he didn't ever want that pissed with him.
Charlotte lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling. Her body was satisfied and yet not. Gabriel had touched her with the same raw tenderness he always did, but again, it had been in an armchair, with her in his lap. She knew in her gut that that wasn't anywhere close to his favorite position. A man like Gabriel enjoyed being on top, liked to have total control.
"Don't rush it. It appears you're doing very well with Gabriel."
Dr. Mac was right; she knew that. She also knew it infuriated her that even though she could see Richard for the spineless psychopathic wimp that he was, she couldn't forget what he'd done to her. It felt as if he'd branded her and she hated it, hated it. She wanted to wear Gabriel's brand, not Richard's, wanted to know the feel of Gabriel's hand sliding around her nape to hold her close for his kiss, not the ugliness of Richard's fingers digging into her flesh as he dragged her around the town house.
And she wanted Gabriel's big, hot, protective body beside her, didn't want him walking out the door night after night because neither of them was sure she wouldn't panic in the middle of the night.
Aggravated, she shoved off the blanket and stomped into the kitchen to make some coffee. She had no idea what time it was in whatever city Molly was in now, but she picked up the phone and made the call. Her best friend came on sounding groggy. "Charlie?"
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br /> "I said Richard was a pencil-dicked, scum-sucking fuckwit."
A dramatic pause, and then Molly whooped. "That's my girl!" A rustling sound followed, with Molly whispering, "Go back to sleep. I'm going to talk to Charlie."
More rustling announced that Molly was moving about. "What precipitated this awesome assassination of pencil-dick's character?" she said after a few more seconds.
Charlotte told Molly about the letter. "All this time, I've been afraid of him, when he's a coward who could only feel good by attacking a woman half his size." Seeing his weaselly words had made that truth crystal clear to her. "I think part of it is because I'm not vulnerable anymore." The grieving, insecure girl Richard had known was gone--in her place was a woman who tangled with a far stronger man on a daily basis. "He can't get at me by attacking my weaknesses."
"I'm proud of you," Molly said, fierce in her support.
Charlotte smiled. "I'm proud of me too." It had taken her years, but she'd finally stripped Richard of his power. "Whatever happens, I'll never again fear him." She wasn't naive enough to think the panic attacks would simply cease, but surely her conscious realization of Richard's true nature would have an impact on her subconscious?
"I hope the other prisoners hurt him while he was in prison," Molly muttered. "It's what he deserves."
Coffee having finished perking, Charlotte poured herself a cup, then took out one of her "angry muffins" as Gabriel had named them, and curled up in a chair at the kitchen table. "I think I should move into Gabriel's apartment."
"Whoa." The sound of liquid being gulped on the other end of the line. "What brought this on?"
"I wanted to prove my independence," Charlotte said, her eyes on the bill she'd left on the counter. "But I've already done that. I've lived here on my own, had my own job, paid my own bills."
"You won't get any arguments from me."
"I guess I just needed to figure that out myself." Charlotte took a bite of her muffin. "The thing is, I never really wanted to live alone anyway. I want to be with Gabriel." She thought of everything she and Gabriel had already shared and of what was still missing.