The dance ended, and he helped Shane pack up and load the chafing dishes back in the van, trying to keep an eye out as the band packed up, hoping he wouldn’t miss his chance to see Zoe. Shane asked him to help with the folding tables and chairs, which required several trips to a back storage shed. He’d just returned for the last of the chairs when he saw Zoe leaving with Jordan, his arm slung over her shoulders. Gabe continued on to the shed in the back of the parking lot. He was about to call out her name when Jordan stopped at an obnoxious yellow Corvette, opened the passenger-side door, and guided her in, one hand on her shoulder. The man couldn’t keep his hands off her, and Zoe wasn’t pulling away. The car peeled out of the lot.
She’d forgotten all about him. He slammed the shed door closed.
Chapter Three
Gabe pulled up to Zoe’s apartment Saturday morning intent on straightening things out with her landlord. Whether or not Zoe was interested in him, she’d come to him with a serious problem, and he intended to help her to the best of his abilities. That was what being a lawyer in Clover Park meant, it was in the job description—fixing problems. The place wasn’t much to look at—a run-down Victorian house that had been converted into apartments with a gravel lot in what would’ve been the backyard for tenants’ parking. He headed for the front door and buzzed the landlord’s apartment multiple times.
Several long moments later, the door opened to a guy in his thirties, standing in Homer Simpson boxers that read Beer Pressure, looking horribly hungover. The guy ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “What the hell do you want? No solicitors, man.”
Gabe would bet good money the guy had inherited the house. He didn’t look like much of a real estate investor.
“John, I’m Zoe Davis’s lawyer,” Gabe said, handing him his card. “She would like to finish the last two months on her lease before she looks for another place. She says you didn’t have a problem with the dog until recently.”
John smirked. “You stop sleeping with the landlord, you stop sleeping with your dog.”
Gabe shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t throttle the guy. “She’s not giving up her dog because you say so. It’s been eight months, and you had no problem with the dog. You’ll need a court order to evict her, or we can take you to court and then you get to pay my lawyer fees.” This was not exactly true, as Zoe was still in violation of the lease by having an over-twenty-five-pound dog, but this guy seemed about as bright as the character on his boxers.
“Whatever.” He shut the door, but Gabe shot his foot out to stop it from closing.
“At least let her out of the lease so she’s not out two months’ rent.”
“Fuck that. She signed it. I get the last two months whether or not she’s here.” He smirked. “And that lease says no dogs over twenty-five pounds.”
Gabe stared him down. John stared back insolently. He couldn’t believe Zoe slept with this jerk. Women were blinded by muscles and tattoos.
“What makes you think the dog is over twenty-five pounds?” Gabe asked.
“I fucking weighed him.”
“When did you weigh him?”
“When Zoe was in the shower.”
Gabe ground his teeth, hating the idea of this asshole with Zoe at all, let alone pulling shit like this. “You have no proof.”
John snorted. “I’ve got a picture on my cell.”
“Show me.”
John rolled his eyes, went into his apartment, and returned a few minutes later, shoving his cell phone picture in Gabe’s face. There was Fred sitting on the scale. The picture was from over the dog’s shoulder, but it looked like Fred with his distinctive gray and black fur. The large digital display clearly read forty. Dammit.
Gabe switched gears. “How much is two months’ rent?”
John crossed his arms. “Two grand.”
Gabe thought the guy might try to fleece him, but two grand was the exact amount for two months’ rent. More than fair. “I’ll write you a check. But you can’t come after her for more. This is it, and she gets her security deposit back. Deal?”
“Who are you?” John sneered. “Her sugar daddy?”
He raised a finger. “You get the check only if you don’t say a word about it. I’ll take care of the rest.”
John shrugged. “Whatever.”
“The check will be delivered on Monday. She’ll be out by the end of the month.”
“One week.” John turned and walked back to his apartment.
Gabe barely resisted slapping him upside the head. This asshole was turning Zoe’s life upside-down, and he sounded as concerned as ordering a pizza. He left before his temper got the better of him. Problem solved. Zoe wouldn’t be out any money. She just needed a place to stay on a temporary basis, until she could find a new place. He had an idea where she could stay, if she was agreeable. He’d ask her later today at Garner’s, where he usually ate lunch on Saturdays. At least he had since he’d noticed Zoe worked the Saturday shift.
A few hours later, he sat at a table for two, studying the menu, debating ordering something different, and finally deciding to stick with his favorite. Once he liked something, he always liked it. Chocolate ice cream for the rest of his life? Yes, please. You can keep the other thirty flavors.
Zoe approached and lust pounded through him, making him feel alive and hyperaware of her. She was so beautiful, even in the required waitress uniform of white button-down shirt and black pants. The shirt open enough to expose her collarbones and luscious skin. The pants that clung to her curves. He always subtly checked out the rear view as she moved about the restaurant. Each time he saw her at Garner’s, he fell deeper in lust. And now that he’d had her in his arms and had this chance to bring her closer, he was knocked off his feet. No other word for it. It was shocking after so much time avoiding entanglements. Play it cool.
She set down his usual club soda. “Howdy, stranger. BLT?”
“That’s right. Hey, let me know when you get a break. I want to talk to you about your landlord.”
“Did you finally get a hold of him?” she asked eagerly.
“Sure did. Long story, though.” He needed time to put his idea to her in the best possible persuasive light.
“I’ve got a fifteen-minute break coming up in half an hour.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Great!” She rushed off to help the next person. He watched her—the way she cocked her head, her beaming smile, the way she joked around with the customers. It was like the world had never touched her, never worn her down. A beautiful thing. Doubt swamped him. Should he still make the offer? Would it really be in her best interest? Lust messed with his head, making it hard for him to think logically. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, so lust won that round.
A half hour later, she slipped into the chair across from him. “So, what’s the news? Good, I hope?”
“Good news,” he confirmed. “I got you out of the lease, so you won’t owe him anything.”
“What a relief! Now I can start looking for a new place.”
“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.” He hesitated as inconvenient morals prodded at him. Was this in her best interest or his?
“Gabe? What?” she asked.
The hell with it. He could go a round or two in lust without harm, right? It had been so long, and he felt alive when he was near her in a way he hadn’t felt in years. “I have a studio apartment over the garage that’s available. If you’d like it, it’s yours.”
“How much?”
“No charge.”
“Gabe.”
“What?”
She shook her head. “You can’t do that. Of course I’ll pay rent. Really, how much?”
He shrugged. “I don’t need the money. The house is paid off.”
She stared at him. “I’ll pay you what I paid in rent for the other place.”
“Why don’t you just check out the place?” he asked in his best impression of a man with no s
ex drive whatsoever. He didn’t want to scare her off. “It’s a temporary solution. There’s a fenced-in yard for Fred.”
“There is?” Her face lit up. “Fred’s never had a yard before.”
Thank you, Dad, for being a miserable, antisocial man, who’d put up a six-foot privacy fence around the backyard so the neighbors couldn’t look in.
“You and Fred could stop by,” he suggested. “Check it out.”
“Okay, we’ll do that.” She stood. “Tomorrow ten a.m. okay?”
“Sounds good. Just a minute.” He pulled out his business card, wrote the address and his cell number, and handed it to her.
She took the card and chewed on her bottom lip, which sent a jolt to his groin, before she backed away. “Okay, see you soon.” She flashed a smile that seemed a little forced.
“See you soon,” he replied, unsure if he’d done the right thing. The fact was, he had a large four-bedroom house and a separate studio apartment all to himself, and he was damn lonely at home. He tried to be there as little as possible. He left some bills on the table and quickly left.
What was he doing bringing her closer? Just because he selfishly wanted her. He couldn’t offer her anything more than a casual fling. Not with a clear conscience. Not with his track record of death.
No, no, it was fine. He was helping her out. She’d probably be flitting off to the next gig soon. He’d ask her about her schedule tomorrow.
If she just needed a temporary place to crash, no one would get hurt. This could still work.
~ ~ ~
Zoe pulled into Gabe’s driveway the next day. “Wow,” she muttered under her breath. She’d ridden her bike down this dead-end street as a kid and thought the homes were like castles back then, so big and majestic on large wooded properties, but even as an adult, the three Victorians on Lover’s Lane were magnificent. The street sign had famously been stolen numerous times over the years by couples that wanted to hang it in their own home, but it was always replaced.
His house was painted a cheery yellow with dark green shutters, and had a wraparound porch and a large yard with a tall privacy fence. The two-car detached garage, set a little further back from the house, would be her new place if she moved in.
She unbuckled Fred from his doggie seatbelt and hooked his leash on him. “Ready to play?”
Fred gave her his happy panting face and leaped onto the sidewalk. His tail moved a teeny bit back and forth, which would’ve been an enthusiastic tail wag on any other dog, but his tail was curled and so fluffy, it was hard to tell when it moved.
She rang the bell and waited. The door swung open to Gabe in another button-down shirt, but this time with faded jeans that looked downright tasty on him.
“Hey, Zoe.” He turned to her fur baby. “Hey, Fred.” He ruffled Fred’s fur and he presented his back side for a hip rub. Gabe obliged, and Zoe’s heart melted a little. “We’ll put him in the yard while I show you the apartment. I’ll meet you out back by the gate.”
“Okay.” She led Fred back to the gate just off the driveway, slid open the latch, and stepped through. Wow. It was a huge yard, definitely an acre, maybe more, all covered in pure, untouched snow. She unhooked Fred’s leash. He took off, jumping, running, and frolicking joyfully in the snow. Fred was made for this weather with his thick double coat.
“Looks like Fred likes it here,” Gabe called from the back deck. He crossed to her. “Ready to check out the apartment?”
“Sure.”
He led the way, ushering her through the gate and quickly shutting it behind them so Fred wouldn’t make a run for it.
“It’s empty,” he told her, “but I’ve had the cleaning lady keep it clean. I put the heat on yesterday, so it should be comfortable.”
“Great!”
She followed him up the outside stairs. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, his hands on his hips. “Well, what do you think? Good place to crash?”
She walked around, taking it all in. The unfurnished studio apartment with a private bathroom and a small kitchen area was smaller than her last place, so she’d have to ask her dad to keep some of her extra furniture. Still, it could work. It had nice light from two large windows in the front and back of the space. She glanced over at Gabe still standing by the door. It was private with its own entrance, she told herself; it wasn’t like Gabe was going to be in her apartment all the time.
“You can move in as soon as you’re ready,” Gabe said.
He said it nicely enough, but she felt a tension in the air. She chewed her bottom lip. It seemed like a no-brainer, but something about Gabe, or maybe just what she’d heard about him, made her cautious. She should find out more about him before committing to anything. Because somehow moving in felt like it would be inviting him into her life. There was no denying an attraction between them. She’d felt that big time when they’d slow danced together, and if she was honest with herself, before that too.
“If I did move in, it might only be for a month or so,” she said. “I might be going out to L.A. for a four-month gig.” She’d received an offer to be a contestant on Next American Voice. The prize was a boiler-plate contract with a record company. Not that great, and she’d have to go on as a solo artist; they only wanted her, not the band. All of which made her hesitate, but the exposure. That she needed. She’d been so restless since she got back from the cruise ship, living in the town she couldn’t seem to shake, still waiting for her big break.
“Whatever works for you,” he said with a smile. “Let’s see how Fred’s doing.” He opened the door.
The tension left her in a whoosh. “Yes! I bet he’s having a blast.”
She followed him to the backyard, where Fred met her with joyful jumps and yips. “Hey, Freddie!”
He took off, a furry streak running the perimeter of the yard. She’d never realized how much he must’ve needed regular runs. He looked so happy. She looked at the center of the yard with its untouched snow and couldn’t resist. She walked over, flopped back in the snow, and made a snow angel just for fun. Fred came by, licked her cheek, and stole the fleece hat right off her head. “Fred! Get back here! I need that!”
He raced in circles around the yard, his prize in his mouth, as she tried unsuccessfully to catch him. He was just too darned fast. “Fred, drop it!”
Fred took off again.
Gabe whistled. “C’mere, Fred!”
Fred ran over and dropped the hat at Gabe’s feet, looking up at him expectantly. Gabe snatched the hat and headed for Zoe. He set the hat on her head. “Hope you don’t mind a little dog drool in your hair.”
“I’m used to it. I can’t believe the way he listens to you.”
“Just call me the dog whisperer,” he said, rubbing Fred behind the ears as he wiggled enthusiastically, bumping against Gabe’s leg.
She laughed. “I’m surprised you don’t have one of your own.”
“I’m not home all that much.”
“You travel a lot?”
“No, I just, you know, busy with work and stuff.” He looked away. He sounded kinda lonely.
She scooped up some snow and tossed it lightly, hitting him right in the chest.
His jaw dropped comically. She giggled. He recovered fast, bending and scooping up a wad of snow and packing it in his big hands. She took off, and the snowball sailed past her shoulder. She turned. “Ha-ha, missed!” And that was when another one hit her right on the shoulder. “Hey! You tricked me!”
“All’s fair in snowball fights.” He was already forming another snowball. She quickly made a few snowballs and took off at a sideways run, pelting him as she went, until she ran out of ammunition. He tossed another one that hit her arm at the same time as Fred leaped in the air to catch it, knocking her to the ground. Oof.
Gabe knelt beside her. “You okay?”
She sat up, a little sore on her rear end, but she wasn’t going to mention that. “Yeah, the snow’s soft.”
Gabe threw a snowball in the other d
irection, and Fred took off after it. She grabbed some snow and smashed it in his face for revenge.
“Hey!”
He grabbed some snow and put it in her face, and they wrestled for the next snowball, which ended with him straddling her, flat on her back, her wrists pinned above her head. “Never wrestle with a man who grew up with five brothers.”
“Look out!” she shouted. “Behind you!”
He got off her quickly to face the threat. She grabbed some snow and threw it at him just as he turned back. “Ha!” she shouted, perhaps unwisely.
“You’ll pay for that,” he growled.
She squeaked and took off. Gabe chased her, and Fred chased them both. Gabe caught her around the waist. “Got you now.” His voice, low and husky, sent a delicious shiver through her.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “What are you going to do with me? Throw me over your shoulder and take me to your secret igloo lair?”
He loosened his hold on her. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be grabby.”
“I was kidding.”
He stepped back.
She turned. “Relax, Gabe. No big deal.”
“Your boyfriend probably wouldn’t like that.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“What about that trumpet player—”
“Jordan and no.”
A smile dawned slow and sure across his face, revealing that dimple again, almost hidden in his stubbled cheek. He looked entirely too appealing—hot and slightly dangerous. If what they said about him was true, if he really did dump his fiancée when she needed him most, well then she needed that kind of guy like a hole in the head. If it wasn’t true, if he was the man that, from her perspective, seemed like a nice guy, well, he probably shouldn’t get involved with her. Every relationship she’d had ended when she was away on a gig. Except for Eddie Thomson, the very famous A-list actor she’d gone out with before her landlord. He’d picked her up in a jazz club and dumped her a month later in a very public rejection at his star-studded, cocaine-riddled party when she refused to join him in a threesome. She’d left for the cruise-ship gig shortly after that, desperately needing to be alone on the ocean. Except, of course, for the other three thousand passengers that she didn’t socialize with.
Restless Harmony Page 3