This Time You

by T. M. Cromer

  “You aren’t going to want to hear this, but I have to check the family calendar.”

  His second groan was pure frustration.

  “The pitfalls of hooking up with a single mom,” she teased. And while she would never wish her children away, she did wish she had more freedom to be carefree and spontaneous.

  “I’ll take what I can get and be happy for it,” he assured her. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

  Chapter 12

  The next weeks, Margie and Gabriel stole moments when they could. Between his heavy caseload and Margie’s kids’ after-school activities, their meetings were few and far between. Each time they were together, they left each other more frustrated than the last.

  Still, she hadn’t told anyone about their relationship, preferring to savor the newness and the clandestine feel of it all for a while longer. Wasn’t it exciting to have a secret this scrumptious?

  October morphed into November, with the Thanksgiving holiday less than a week away and fast approaching. The two of them chiseled out coffee time every Friday morning before Gabriel left to spend his time at the Big Brother program or with a pro bono client.

  Margie strongly suspected he wanted to provide a new morning memory for her to look forward to since he understood how much her mornings with Opal had meant to her.

  “What are your plans for Thanksgiving?” She returned Kaley’s wave, feeling a little melancholy to see her daughter climb into the truck, beside her boyfriend, Dalton. But Margie recognized her need for some freedom.

  “Grey, Gordie, and I used to spend it with Opal. We don’t have any plans this year other than to get together to watch the game.”

  “I never asked, but are they in relationships?”

  “No. I think we were all tainted by the same dysfunctional-family brush when we were growing up.”

  Because she knew a little of his backstory from Opal, she’d never pushed Gabriel for information about his childhood. Margie sipped her coffee and wondered how to question him without seeming to pry.

  Gabriel rose and perched a hip against the porch railing. “You should just ask, Margaret.”

  Whenever he said her full name in that warm, resonating way, she felt it down to her toes. She sighed and lassoed her courage. “Have all of you sworn off marriage?”

  He frowned down into his coffee. “Not intentionally, I don’t suppose. But it’s possible Grey and Gordie have a subconscious wish to avoid commitment. Perhaps I do, too, after Tamara.” His troubled eyes watched her carefully. “Is that a deal breaker?”

  “We’d have to have a deal to break.”

  Margie hadn’t meant to sound snarky, but he laughed all the same.

  “When are you going to put me out of my misery and sleep with me, Margaret?”

  She wanted to jump up and drag him to the bedroom when he employed his raspy growl. Instead, she shrugged and finished her drink. She handed him the mug and dropped a kiss on his cheek.

  “Thanks for the coffee, Gabriel.”

  “Is that all I get by way of a morning kiss?”

  “The neighbors are watching,” she chided.

  He snorted and tossed the remains of his cup into the bushes. Once he placed both mugs on the rail, he tugged her between his outstretched legs. Drawn to the way he played with her hands and placed his large palm flat against hers, she didn’t pull away when he intertwined his fingers with hers. After a short pause, he said, “Like I care.”

  “You don’t, but maybe I do.”

  Ever so gently, he twisted her arms to rest behind her back, their hands still connected. The gesture pushed out her chest and gained his undivided attention. She bit her lip to contain a laugh when he heaved an appreciative sigh and lifted his scintillating gaze from her girls. “One day soon, Margaret, you’re going to have to put out. You can’t keep teasing me.”

  She did laugh then. “You tease yourself, Gabriel.” Shifting closer, she nudged his jaw with the tip of her nose.

  “True,” he agreed. “Now kiss me like you mean it.”

  Margie raised up on tiptoes and fastened her mouth to his. After three long, mind-drugging kisses that left them feverish and bothered, she drew away. “You have to go do your pro bono work.”

  “I could blow it off today if you’ll swear to be my sexual plaything.”

  “Not going to happen. I have goods to whip up for the bake sale this weekend.”

  “I could come sample your goods.”

  The dirty connotation had her woman parts heating up and her longing to say yes. Margie wanted nothing more than to make love with Gabriel. Her only hang-up? Her mom bod. After children, her stomach and hips boasted extra weight along with some loose skin no amount of crunches could tighten.

  “You’ve sampled all the goods you’re going to get today.” She drew back.

  “For the record, I’ve got the worst case of blue balls in the history of mankind.”

  “Should I feel sorry for you and give in?”

  “Hell, yes! How about right now?”

  Before she could say yay or nay, he straightened and grabbed her hand, dragging her toward the front door.

  “Mom! Mom!”

  Gabriel sighed heavily. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but sometimes I despise your children.”

  “No offense taken.” She giggled and lightly squeezed his fingers.

  Margie jogged down the steps to where her sons waited on the sidewalk. Pausing midway, she glanced back over her shoulder and flushed to see Gabriel’s eyes zeroed in on her ass. Her hands dropped down to hide her butt from his view, and she twisted to walk backwards.

  His sinful grin flashed, and she was sure her skin darkened three shades.

  “Let me know if you and your brothers want to join the family for Thanksgiving dinner at my parents’. Mom would love it if you showed.”

  Without saying a word, he rested a shoulder against the pillar of his porch and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes dropped pointedly to her mouth. When she thought he wouldn’t respond, he called out, “Will you bake me a pie, Margaret? My favorite is cherry.”

  “For you, Gabriel James, I’d bake five pies.”

  “Ah, you do know how to tease a man, love.”

  * * *

  Gabriel watched Margaret herd her boys toward the bus stop. On the way, she checked their breath and their backpacks. Her morning routine was always the same, and the sight made him smile.

  He’d never fully cop to it, but he enjoyed their little mating dance. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t hoped to be in her bed by now, but he also understood her issues. She’d stated her objections the first day they went out to lunch, and he suspected they hadn’t lessened any, if at all. As he’d promised her then, he wouldn’t push. Okay, he wouldn’t push much. But teasing her was fun as hell.

  She’d told him she’d be baking today, and he imagined her in nothing but an apron as she danced about her kitchen. All her woman parts would jiggle in time to her movements. If he were there with her, he’d eat small brownie bites off her stomach while he worked his way up to taste her delicious breasts. His mouth watered at his own fantasy.

  With a hard shake of his head, he glanced around. She was already gone, and he grinned at how easily he added to his sexual frustration. What would she do if he showed up in only an apron of his own to help her? He snorted. She’d probably claim he was being unsanitary. A deep sigh of regret escaped him, and he went inside.

  As he was cleaning the morning dishes, his phone dinged. The image on the screen brought a wide smile to his mouth. Margie had a bowl of brownie batter on the counter in front of her while she stood with her index finger between her lips as if to sample the batter—or something else.

  The little tease.

  He typed his reply.

  “I’ve got a better idea for that mouth than the batter! I’ll be over in two minutes.”

  She returned a laughing emoji and the words, “go to work.”

  “Fine, but you’
d better bake me my promised pie.”

  Her reply was immediate.

  “Done. Come collect for dinner tonight.”

  What did she mean by the invite? Was it to be just the two of them? God, he hoped so.

  “What time? And should I be wearing pants?”

  Again, she sent a laughing emoji, but this time with tears streaming from its eyes.

  “Six-thirty. Yes to pants unless you want to shock my children and take the chance of being reported to child services.”

  Gabriel found himself laughing at the silliness of their conversation. With no one else would he ever be so frivolous and unguarded. Yet with Margaret, he was able to shed the carefully constructed persona he presented the outside world and become his true self.

  Don Acker watched as Margie laughed and texted. Watched as she struck a sexy pose with the batter on her finger. Watched as she blushed and went about her morning, preparing to bake. He also divided his time with another monitor. The one where Gabriel James laughed and texted Margie in return as he prepared for his day.

  Fury exploded like a grenade inside his brain. Don reached for the only thing capable of calming him—the bra he’d pocketed from Margie’s hamper the month before. He’d been careful not to touch it too much because he didn’t wish to ruin the scent. The hints of vanilla and citrus were all Margie. But today, he buried his face in the V of the material and pretended it was the valley of her D-cup breasts. Imagined he ran his fingers over their dusky red tips and pinched her nipples until they grew hard for him and him alone.

  Tomorrow, she would leave to take her little brats to the school bake sale. He had no doubt Margie’s troublemaker daughter would disappear with her boyfriend for the day. That would leave plenty of time for Don to go through Margie’s room. Time for him to touch her things and take pictures. He needed to have everything perfect for her, and he couldn’t be caught unaware again. He’d narrowly escaped the day Kaley was supposed to be at her father’s.

  Gingerly replacing the bra on its satin pillow, Don turned to watch the monitors again. Gabriel was backing out of the garage, so he paid him no mind, choosing to focus on Margie.

  While she measured ingredients, Don rewound the video of her morning meeting with Gabriel. He noted the way the other man attempted to pull her close. Studied how she laughingly resisted at first but then gave in. Don practiced the move until he was sure he had it correct. With a few clicks of his mouse, he cropped that particular section of video and added it to the movie loop he was in the process of creating. When the time was right, he would show her exactly how skilled he was at seduction. She’d never look at Gabriel again.

  Chapter 13

  “Hey, neighbor. I’ve come for some sugar.” Gabriel’s voice called through her screen enclosure.

  Margie let out a gasp of fright. She’d been lost in the past, not expecting to see him tonight.

  With one hand in his pocket and the other holding up an empty measuring cup, he seemed genuine. Yet even in the darkness, she could see the gleam of mischievous intent lighting his eyes.

  “What the hell are you doing here so late?”

  He shrugged. “I saw your pool light on and thought I’d take a chance.”

  “Hmm, and what if I don’t happen to have any sugar to spare?” Margie set down her glass of wine and meandered to the screen door.

  “Ah, Margaret. Would you deny a man sustenance?”

  “Sugar isn’t sustenance, nor is it a necessity, Gabriel. You’re trying to find any excuse to make out.”

  “And is it working?” His grin brightened the night sky.

  Boy, was it ever!

  After she unlatched the lock, she went straight to the cabinet containing the sugar. She spun back to ask him how much he needed, but he was already on her heels and crowded her against the counter. Both of his arms bracketed her to lock her in place.

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t make a trip to the store if I needed something?” He nibbled the sensitive place behind her ear.

  “I knew it was all a ruse,” she said with a breathless laugh.

  “I’ve decided to give you one last chance to cave before I steal you away and hold you hostage.”

  “Hostage?” His idea had merit, and Margie was all for a getaway with just the two of them. She’d already decided it was past time for her to get over her objections.

  “Yes, I’ll make love to you night and day.”

  Gabriel’s lips trailed the column of her throat to the V of her neckline, and his fingers toyed with the mother-of-pearl button at the top of her sweater.

  Getting into their game, she felt under his sweatshirt and traced the hard ridges of his abs. “Mmm, for how long?”

  “At least a month. I’m sure it would take me that long to satisfy my voracious appetite.”

  She narrowed her eyes and pressed a hand to his chest. “Only a month?”

  “Okay, two months. But I need to sleep every third or fourth day for a few hours.”

  Margie pretended to think about it before she leaned forward and gave him a love bite on his chin. “Deal.”

  It was Gabriel’s turn to pause their game. “Did you just agree to have sex with me?”

  “I agreed to be abducted by you. You’ll have to make sure you have a babysitter lined up for the kids.”

  He gripped her hips and hauled her close. “Not a problem. My brothers owe me.” The second he registered the lack of noise in the house, he reared up from kissing her. “Wait a minute! Where is everyone? Are we going to be interrupted by Kaley or the boys at any second?”

  “The boys are at their friends’ houses, and Kaley is staying at my mother’s. She’s going to help with early prep for the Thanksgiving feast.”

  “Are you saying we’re all alone? Please tell me we are.”

  “We are.”

  “Oh, thank God!”

  At that precise moment, the house telephone rang.

  “Don’t answer it,” he whispered, nuzzling her earlobe. “They’ll leave a message.”

  “You’re a terrible influence,” she admonished with a throaty laugh. She’d half a mind to listen to him, but motherhood came with constant interruptions. “But I should get it. What if it’s one of the children?”

  The ringing stopped, and the answering machine kicked on. “Margie, it’s Mom. Pick up!”

  Gabriel and Margie froze as the panic in her mother’s voice came through the line.

  “Margie? Are you there? I need you to pick up.”

  She ran for the receiver. “Mom? What’s going on?”

  “Turn on the news.”

  “What channel?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re scaring me, Mom. What’s going on?”

  “I think… Michael’s plane…”

  When Violet started to cry, Margie rushed to the family room and hit the remote. The video was from a news helicopter’s perspective. A plane was three quarters of the way submerged in the ocean. Searchlights veered left and right. Front to back.

  “Fire rages out of control as Coast Guard workers and divers struggle to locate any survivors. The cause of the crash has been undetermined. Search and rescue is on scene…”

  Margie sat on the edge of the sofa and cried, “Ohmygod! Mom, was that Michael’s? Ohmygod!”

  Gabriel removed the phone from her death grip. From a great distance, she heard him ask, “Violet? Is there another adult there with you?” Her mother must have responded in the affirmative because his next questions were about Sammy’s welfare. Margie half listened as she stared at the carnage on the television.

  Shock held her immobile. Michael had been a major part of their lives for the last ten years. She couldn’t imagine a world without him in it. Kaley, Scotty, and Aaron all adored him, and she knew how devastated they would be if Michael had truly been on that plane.

  She belatedly noted Gabriel had hung up the phone and sat next to her, one hand on her back, watching her with concern. Shakily, s
he rose to her feet. “My boys. I have to pick up Scotty and Aaron from their friends’ houses. I want them close until we know for certain.”

  “You’re in no condition to drive, love. I’ll take you.”

  Tears blurred her vision and raced down her cheeks. “Oh, Gabriel. He was supposed to fly home tonight. I don’t know what Sammy is going to do without him if…” She sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to control her hysteria. “Michael’s her rock. Her everything,” she whispered.

  Gabriel rose and gathered her close, tucking her against his heart. “It’s going to be all right. Anything could’ve happened. Maybe he missed his flight. Your mom might have the wrong information. Anything. You have to wait until your sister can confirm it either way.”

  With a shake of her head, she said, “No. Mom told me Sammy was having nightmares. They’re like the family’s early warning system when something bad is going to happen.”

  “Let’s go get the boys and wait for more news. You lock the back door and set the alarm. Don’t forget your cell phone so we can call ahead. I’m sure their friends’ parents don’t need the fright of a late-night visit. I’ll go get the Suburban started.”

  He had almost reached the door to the garage when she called out. “Gabriel!” He turned, and her heart stuttered to see him so solemn and concerned for her welfare. “Thank you.”

  His soft smile, full of warmth and caring, melted the last of her resistance. She flew into his embrace and clung to him for all she was worth. The corded muscles of his arms held her tightly to his solid frame as she sought solace, knowing there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be at that moment. She loved him, and she was tired of fighting it. She’d always loved him and most likely always would.

  “Come on. Let’s go get Scotty and Aaron,” he urged.

  Along the way, Margaret received confirmation the flight was indeed the one Michael had booked. Gabriel pulled her vehicle off the road to give her time to compose herself before she had to face her children. Moving to her side of the Suburban, he cradled her as she wept for their lost family member.