At Last (Time for Love, #5)

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At Last (Time for Love, #5) Page 11

by Miranda P. Charles


  A brief feeling of relief touched him. At least she cared somewhat.

  He walked into the lift with her when the doors opened.

  “Zach said there could be something wrong?” Gemma asked tentatively as they rode up to her floor.

  He sighed deeply. What could he say? He had no idea how to explain himself. And describing what he felt didn’t make any sense to him.

  Well, it was more like his feelings scared the hell out of him. He didn’t want to frighten her with them, too.

  “I don’t know,” he said softly.

  “Maybe you’re working too hard,” Gemma said. “Or maybe you’re coming down with something.”

  They stepped out of the lift and Gemma fiddled with her keys, her keychain making a distinctive noise from a little bell attached to it.

  A neighbour’s door opened.

  “Hi, Gem—Oh, hi, Greg,” Matt said, his surprise evident at seeing them together.

  “Hi,” Greg said, keeping his face impassive. Jesus. Was this guy waiting by his door for Gemma?

  “Hey, Matt,” Gemma said, slotting the key through the hole. “Greg’s just... um...”

  “I need to use the bathroom,” Greg supplied. He might want to strangle Matt, but if Gemma really liked the man, then he didn’t want to sabotage her happiness.

  What? Holy crap. He needed to see someone with his problem. Now he was letting someone else win what he wanted?

  “Okay, see you later, Gem,” Matt said, sounding relieved.

  Greg followed Gemma inside, starting to regret it. He really just wanted to howl. And break Matt’s door and land a punch on his face.

  Oh, great. Now he was entertaining juvenile thoughts.

  “Greg? Do you want a drink?”

  He should leave, but he found himself nodding. “What are you having?”

  “Hot chocolate, I think. I enjoyed my dessert, but it was citrusy. I’m craving for something sweet.”

  “I’ll have the same, thanks.”

  “You know where the bathroom is, right?” Gemma said, walking towards the kitchen.

  “Yeah, but I don’t really need to go,” he answered, following her.

  “Oh.”

  “You and Matt are... dating?” he asked, forcing the last word out.

  Gemma glanced at him, then went about making their hot drinks. “We went out to dinner a couple of times,” she said after a pause. “We’re... uh... He’s invited me to go out with him again.”

  His heart sank at her confirmation. “You like him?” he dared ask, even though he knew he was going to hate her answer.

  “He’s a nice guy. But hey, we’re here to talk about you,” Gemma said lightly. “Zach wanted me to report back to him, remember?”

  He smirked. “And you think I’m going to tell you anything?”

  She grinned. “Wait till I give you my special hot chocolate. It has a secret potion which makes anyone who drinks it divulge their secrets.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “In that case, I better go.”

  “And waste this? No, you have to stay.”

  Greg watched as Gemma prepared their beverage. They still had their friendship to preserve. So yeah, he’d stay.

  *

  “Mmm. Best homemade hot chocolate I’ve ever had,” Greg said sincerely as he took his first sip.

  “Why, thank you, sir. Now would you care to share with me what’s bothering you?”

  “What, the potion works after just one sip?” he quipped.

  Gemma smiled. “You tell me.”

  “I miss you,” he blurted out.

  Gemma stared at him in shock. Hell, he surprised himself, too.

  Interminable seconds passed and Gemma was still gaping, different emotions passing through her face. The overriding expression was doubt.

  “I’ve no idea what has gotten into me, to be honest,” he said, staring at his mug. He had nothing to lose if he tried to explain.

  “What makes you think you missed me?” Gemma asked.

  He laughed cheerlessly. “All I can think about is you, Gem. It’s driving me freaking nuts wanting you and not being able to have you.”

  “Don’t you have Liana to help you in that area?” she asked dryly.

  “I swear the harder she tries to seduce me, the more turned off I get. I don’t know why.”

  “You don’t know why?”

  He let out a heavy exhale. “You know it’s easy for me to get women, Gem. But I don’t want them. I want you.”

  Gemma placed her mug on the table, taking a deep breath. “You look very frustrated about this. You don’t like feeling like this, do you?”

  He took sips of his hot chocolate, tossing her question in his head. “If I could have you again, I don’t think I’d feel this badly,” he said in a low voice, watching her reaction.

  “It was you who didn’t want to continue,” she reminded him.

  “Because I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered. “And I was afraid I eventually would.”

  “What do you think now?”

  He stared at her beautiful face, and he knew Gemma was seeking for the complete truth. He felt himself open up, wanting to lay himself bare before her.

  Releasing his mug, he faced her fully on the couch. “I miss you and want you so much it’s driving me crazy. But going by my history, I don’t know how long I’ll feel like that,” he said in all honesty.

  “You’re scared you’ll get tired of me?” she asked softly.

  He took her hand and stroked it with his thumb. “There’s something you might not have known about me, Gem. I used to be inconsiderate of women’s feelings. I’ve been reckless to so many of them for so long. Three years ago, after my parents died, I made a promise to change. That’s why now I don’t have relationships with girls who are looking for commitment. But what I feel for you is so new to me. I just don’t know. I don’t want to make you hope for something I’ve never been able to give to anyone else before. What if I’m not capable of it? I don’t want to break my promise to my mum.”

  “What if I’m not asking anything of you but to give it a try?”

  His jaw slackened, a little bit of hope seeping through.

  “You don’t need to commit to someone when everything is so new, Greg. People date so they can find out if they’re meant for each other. If not, they break up and continue their search.”

  He continued his gaping as heaviness slowly lifted off him. Was she willing to give him another chance? Even if a future with him was uncertain?

  “Are you saying you wouldn’t mind having... err... a relationship with me even though I’m not sure yet if I’d ever want something long-term? Because I know that ultimately, it’s what you’re looking for.”

  Gemma breathed deeply. “If you’re not closed to the idea of dating exclusively, then yes, I wouldn’t mind trying that with you. But I need to know you’re at least open to something serious down the track, so I know I won’t be totally wasting my time.”

  The thought of being with the same person for the rest of his life still daunted Greg. But not being able to be with Gemma again scared him more. He felt like he’d be throwing away something of utmost importance if he turned his back on this chance.

  “I’m happy to date exclusively—and not actively seek other women,” he answered, both nervous and excited. “If I find it’s not for me, then I’ll be honest and break it off first before I, um, see someone else. That’s all I can manage at this point, Gem. I’m not ready to think serious commitment at this time—just a day-by-day, week-by-week exclusive relationship. I simply don’t want to promise you something I’m not sure I can keep. But I do hope it’s enough for you. Because if there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure about, it’s that I miss you. A lot.”

  A smile formed on Gemma’s face. “I’m okay with that.”

  “Really?” he asked, watching her face for signs that she didn’t mean what she’d said.

  “Yes. As long as it’s exclusive while it lasts.


  “It will be.”

  “Then, yes.”

  He gawked at her for the longest time. “Can I kiss you now?” he asked hoarsely.

  Gemma lunged at him and they ended up sprawled on the couch, with her on top of him.

  “Missed you,” he said against her lips as he kissed her hungrily, his hands feverishly stroking her back and hair.

  “Missed you, too,” Gemma breathed, straddling him, her dress hitching up around her waist. It gave him the perfect opportunity to caress her backside and her legs.

  Gemma shifted and his burgeoning erection ended up nestling on her mound. He arched his hips and moaned at the delicious friction between their bodies.

  “Clothes off, baby,” he rasped, tugging the zipper of her dress.

  “Wait,” Gemma said, stilling and looking at him with consternation.

  “What?”

  “I think we should wait.”

  “Wait?” he asked, as if the word was something he hadn’t heard before.

  Gemma gingerly got off him and he sat up, befuddled.

  “I just remembered that I’m kinda dating Matt,” she said apologetically. “It’s not official, but I’ve still agreed to go out with him again. I’d feel funny if he discovers you’d stayed for hours—or the night—when you said you just wanted to use the bathroom. I’d rather tell him first that I won’t be seeing him again.”

  He inhaled deeply, jealousy shooting through him. He understood, though, so he nodded.

  “I’ll let him know tomorrow,” Gemma said softly, placing a palm on his cheek.

  “Okay. But I don’t think I have time to see you before I head back to Serenade Bay tomorrow.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I don’t want to wait two weeks until I see you again,” he said. “Can you go back earlier and stay until you reopen your studio?”

  Gemma smiled. “Okay. I already have some things planned for the next few days, but I could join you there from next Saturday.”

  “That’s still a week away,” he complained.

  “At least it’s not two weeks,” she said placatingly.

  “All right then,” he said with a resigned sigh. “I guess I’m just going to have to wait.”

  *****

  Greg heard the front door open. He craned his neck and smiled. Phoebe had come to tidy up his cottage, earphones plugged to her ears and bopping along to some tune only she could hear.

  “Hi, Phoebe,” he said loudly as he picked up his laptop and a file of documents.

  Phoebe’s eyes widened. “Mr. Greg,” she said, taking off the earphones. “I thought you were out until five.”

  “I was supposed to be, but my meeting in town has been cancelled. Please clean up in here, though. I’ll work in the verandah so I’m out of your way.”

  “Can I start with your bedroom and en suite? I usually do those first.”

  “Of course. Pretend I’m not here.” He gave Phoebe a grateful smile and stepped out.

  Maybe working in the outdoors would inspire him to focus on what he had to do. He’d been trying to concentrate, but all he’d seen in his mind was Gemma. There were still two days before she arrived, and he just couldn’t wait.

  He shook his head, bemused at himself. Patience, Greg.

  *

  “Hi, Greg!”

  Greg frowned at Liana walking down the path to his cottage. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was walking around and saw this track leading to these cabins and I thought I’d explore.”

  “Liana, everyone knows that only guests staying at the cottages are supposed to enter this private area, unless they’ve been specifically invited,” he said with a scowl.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Liana said, totally unconcerned. “I didn’t go walking into any of the others, so I haven’t bothered the other guests. But I knew this is where you’re staying. I heard you mention it to Magda.”

  “So why are you here?” he asked again. Since Gemma and Annette had left the Sanctuary, Liana had somewhat toned down her flirtation. It could be because Tony had apparently ordered his daughter to concentrate on finishing her designs or he wouldn’t be pouring any more money into her fledgling fashion business. It didn’t mean that Liana had completely left Greg alone, though.

  “I just wanted to have a look around, that’s all,” Liana said in a hurt tone. “I was walking past and thought you wouldn’t mind giving me a tour. But if you want me to go, then fine, I’ll leave.”

  He repressed a sigh. Liana was a guest, and he still needed to be polite. “Okay. I’ll give you a quick one. But I have to get back to my work soon.” He closed his laptop and flipped the documents he was working on face-down on the table.

  “You work too hard, Greg,” Liana said, posing in a sultry way.

  “Let’s go.” He was eager to finish the tour so he could get rid of her.

  He led her to the French doors of the main bedroom off the verandah. Might as well start there, as Phoebe was still finishing up in the living room.

  “Wow. Great bedroom,” Liana said as she looked around, touching furniture and gushing at the decor. He tapped his foot with impatience as Liana took her time.

  “This bed looks so inviting,” Liana murmured, testing the mattress by pressing on it.

  “Yeah. Anyway, I really need to get back to work, Liana.”

  “Can I ask one favour, Greg?” she asked. “Just one.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This,” Liana said, jumping on him and kissing him on the lips.

  It was so unexpected that he didn’t have a choice but to catch her. “Liana, let go,” he said, trying to push her away. But her arms were locked tightly behind his neck, and her legs were wrapped around his waist.

  “I just want to know what you feel like, Greg,” she said, kissing his face. “No strings. And no one needs to know.”

  “No, Liana,” he said more forcefully, prying her legs from around him.

  Liana got off him, her face red. “What else do I have to do, Greg? You’ve had so many different women, so why not me? What’s wrong with me?”

  He rubbed his face. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Liana. I’m sorry, but... I’m just not interested.”

  “I’m leaving!” Liana said, angry. “Not just this cottage but the Sanctuary!”

  “That’s your choice.”

  With a huff, Liana stomped off.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. Until Liana called out from the verandah.

  “You’ve made a big mistake, Greg!”

  He frowned. Now what the hell did she mean?

  Someone moving to the side caught his attention.

  “I’m so sorry, sir,” Phoebe said, standing by the bedroom door. Her face was as red as Liana’s, although her expression was one of mortification. “There were voices and... I thought you were alone so I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come and listen. I...”

  “Don’t worry, Phoebe,” he said with a reassuring smile.

  Phoebe witnessing what had happened held zero concern for Greg. He was more perturbed about Liana’s increasingly desperate behaviour. He had a feeling Liana wasn’t done.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Gemma sat hunched on a chair, an elbow on the table and her head in her hand. “Surely we can talk about this,” she pleaded.

  “I’m sorry, Gemma,” said the property manager of the commercial building where her studio was located. “I’m sure you won’t have a problem looking for another suitable space to relocate your studio. I do apologise for giving you bad news first thing this morning, but the letter confirming that we won’t be renewing your lease when it expires in a month will be delivered today. We thought we’d call you as a courtesy.”

  Gemma shook her head. Her studio was in the perfect place, close to the schools where most of her students studied. Besides, the rent there was affordable. Other spaces she’d checked around the area were too expensive for her.

  “I’ll speak with the tenants who
complained and see if we can sort this out,” Gemma said.

  “The decision has already been made, Gemma. As for the other tenants, they sympathise with you. They specifically stated that they personally like you. As I’ve said, their reason is that they’re worried about the harassing letter they received from an anonymous person saying their shops are in danger of being vandalised simply because they’re next door to your studio. They can’t afford to put up extra security just to deal with this vague threat, but they also can’t ignore it.”

  “I wish I’d known about this earlier so I could have fixed it,” she said, although she had no idea what she could have done.

  There was silence, and Gemma knew that they really just wanted her out of the building.

  “So I’ve got a month to move out,” she said flatly.

  “Yes. I’m sure you’ll find another place in no time.”

  Gemma murmured her thanks, then hung up. She wanted to cry, but no tears came out.

  This new development scared her. More and more people were being affected simply because they were connected to her. But her primary concern right now was her students.

  How the hell was she going to find a new location for her studio in a month? What was more, if she had to move out of the suburb the studio was in, she’d likely lose a number of students whose parents would find the extra travel too inconvenient.

  She guessed she could always do home visits, but she knew from an earlier survey she’d done that most clients didn’t want that. The kids were able to concentrate more when learning piano out of the house. And some had baby siblings who were a constant interruption during lessons at home. Besides, it would be a short-term fix at best. She’d lose a good chunk of her income that came from group lessons and her program for preschoolers if she didn’t have a dedicated space.

  She turned on her laptop to start her search for new premises. But first, she had to call Greg.

  “Hey, babe!” Greg greeted, his delight obvious.

  “Hi,” she responded.

  “Can’t wait till I see you tomorrow.”

  Her exhale was a loud gush. “I’m going to have to postpone my return, Greg. Another problem has cropped up.”

  “What is it?”

 

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