Gabe jumped to his feet, hands held out in front of him with fingers spread stiff and wide, as if he only just stopped himself making fists. A pulse jumped at his temple.
“I’m not lying. There was a folder, I found it after you left. The papers I gave Sarah to copy for the class were in it.” He shook his head. “Are you accusing me of trying to sabotage your research? What, you think I was so upset you weren’t happy to see me again, I found a copy of your questionnaire and gave it out?”
Biting her lip, she crossed her arms across her chest. Truth was, she hadn’t thought. She’d reacted.
His eyes flashed and he shook his head. “I can’t believe you’d think I could be so petty. It says a lot more about you and the massive chip on your shoulder than it does about me.”
Her gaze dropped to her feet. If Gabe was telling the truth, not only her research was wrecked. Her accusations would wreck what was growing between them, too.
But he had given the students her questionnaire.
“I don’t know why you would sabotage me. I just know you did.” Her voice came out small and shaky.
“Zoe, I’m not jerk #3, to go on your list after Brad and Adrian. I’m just a guy doing the best I can. I’m stuck here doing a job I don’t want that stops me getting my own work done, with a woman who seems incapable of the smallest degree of trust.” A breath hissed through his teeth. “I’m sorry I ever did that procedure with you. It’s poisoned any chance of a normal relationship between us. Though I’m starting to wonder if you can have a normal relationship with anyone. I. Did. Not. Deliberately. Hand. Out. Your. Work.”
He spoke each word slowly and with emphasis, as if speaking to a child, or someone who didn’t understand English.
Zoe slumped into her seat like a puppet whose strings were cut, and buried her face in her hands. She had to believe him. Her temper evaporated, leaving her empty, cold and trembling.
She longed to be like her mother, calm and serene, never losing her temper. Instead, she’d gone off like a badly made bomb, killing any chance of Gabe truly caring for her.
Releasing a long slow breath, she nodded. “I’m sorry, Gabe. Of course you wouldn’t do that. I don’t know how it ended up in with the lecture handouts. Patrick and I discussed it on Thursday. He must have put a copy in the wrong folder by mistake.”
Miserable, sure he must despise her, she risked a glance at him.
He shook his head and his lips twisted doubtfully, but concern filled his eyes, not the loathing she’d dreaded seeing.
Relief flooded her. One thing was okay, at least.
She covered her face with her hands again, to hide the tears welling in her eyes. “It’s just, my hopes of getting my research published were based on the questionnaire. Now it’s been used in course materials.”
A gentle hand rested on her shaking shoulder. A surprising comfort flowed into her at his touch.
“It’s okay,” he said.
Hiccupping, she twisted to look up into his eyes. What she saw there warmed her heart. Her research might be trashed, but at least Gabe didn’t hate her. “You’re too good to me. I’m a shrew.”
“Yes, you are.” He grinned. “But an adorable shrew.” His hand tightened on her shoulder. “This might not be the disaster you think it is. It’s the ideal size group to validate your tool. Use the opportunity.”
She struggled to speak calmly without sniffling. “Patrick agreed that my study design itself acted as validation. If the results bear out my hypothesis, the tool is good. If the results don't fit, I have two possibilities, an inaccurate tool, or a wrong hypothesis.”
“And if your tool is pre-validated, you only have one possibility.” He spoke with the ‘Tah dah’ air of a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat.
Zoe slowly nodded her head. Gabe was right, but anxiety still gripped her in a bear hug. “But that doesn’t help the main problem. It’s out there way before I’m ready. I asked my research subjects to sign an agreement they would keep the questionnaire private and not share it, apart from with their partner. At least one of the students this morning told me she plans to pass it on to her friends. It may as well be in the public domain.”
Despair clenched her tummy. All that work, wasted.
“Easy fix. Get the tool published as fast as you can. You see it all the time. Even an obscure online journal gives you first publication claim.”
Relief flooded her. One hand lifted, to rest on his, where it lay on her shoulder. She smiled up at him. “You’re right. Such an easy, obvious answer. I got so upset I couldn’t see it. Thank you.”
In the space of two minutes, she’d gone from wanting to murder Gabe to wanting to hug him.
That probably wasn’t a good idea, here in the office. Gossip circulated through this place like wildfire. She didn’t want them to be the latest topic.
Besides, after that kiss last night, she didn’t know where things were going between them, or where she wanted them to go.
But surely touching his hand was safe.
That, she could do.
Even if letting anything more happen was still a bad idea.
Chapter 14
Gabe’s initial spurt of anger that Zoe could believe he’d sabotage her research evaporated. If she hadn't given herself away with that kiss last night, her accusation would have infuriated him.
But that kiss told him the raw, unvarnished, impossible-to-hide truth.
Zoe liked him, more than liked him, and it terrified her.
Her attitude today was based on fear. If she pushed him away, lumped him in with the jerks who’d let her down, she felt safe.
Her emotions seemed to ride a roller coaster between longing and panic. The problem was, she could drag him along on the ride too, if he wasn’t careful to hold firm to the Lord. His own feelings were sure. They might have only met a few days ago, but he knew what he felt.
He studied Zoe, wanting to figure out what was going on in her heart and mind right now.
It looked like fear was losing the battle. For now.
“Please forgive me,” she said. “I shouldn’t have been such an idiot. And I shouldn’t have doubted you. I’m not usually so irrational, promise.”
The emotion flaring in her eyes as she glanced up at him and squeezed his hand warmed him as if he stood near an open fire. For a long charged moment their gaze meshed, and something tender and yearning seemed to stretch between them.
“Of course I forgive you.” When she looked at him like that and asked with such sweet contrition, he could forgive just about anything.
Suddenly, she looked away, breaking their connection with an almost audible snap. “I’m sorry I need to go, I’ve got another class.” She jumped up, rushing the words out as she scurried from their office.
Clearly, the fear was back.
But he’d seen what she hid behind it.
As he watched her retreat, he came close to unexpected laughter. Last night, after that kiss, he hadn’t been surprised when Zoe ran off as soon as they were outside the hospital, muttering an excuse that wasn’t quite convincing.
How could the anti-romance crusader admit she'd fallen into limerence and maybe something more, with a man she’d met in Paris on Valentine's Day?
She couldn't. So she had to try to hide her feelings and ignore the truth. Bolster her resistance with any excuse she could grab, like the mix-up with her questionnaire.
All too obviously, she wanted to pretend the kiss never happened.
It had, and he didn’t intend to allow her to forget it.
He could be patient.
He’d have to be patient.
Zoe needed proof he wasn’t another jerk, and only time would give her that. If God wanted them together, God would help him wait, and God’s perfect love would help Zoe defeat her fear.
Every day was another opportunity. God had given them time. They’d both be here in London until the summer.
Though for the next six weeks, he’d have far less t
ime than he wanted. Covering Patrick’s workload, on top of setting up the course he’d been employed to deliver, added up to more than a full-time job.
Time to stop thinking about Zoe and get back to work. He called I.T. for a second time to ask for access to Patrick’s calendar, then got busy again on planning his counselling course.
The one interruption was a phone call. He recognised the jubilant Irish voice immediately.
Patrick.
“Gabe, hello. Good news, I’ll be a free man by this evening! I passed their treadmill test. Will you be able to move into the apartment, so I have the babysitter they demand?”
“Of course! I’m so glad for you.” He wouldn’t object one bit to moving out of the noisy hotel, but he was genuinely pleased for Patrick, as well.
“Wonderful. I need to warn you, too, there’s a mountain of assignments due tomorrow. I’ll happily mark them, if you’d bring them home for me.”
Gabe shook his head, even though Patrick couldn’t see it. “Nice try, but no way. I think your cardiologist might have something to say about you starting back at work on your first day home. Zoe and I will manage fine.”
A sigh came down the line. “I shall have to find something else to do. Maybe look up my old friends, as Zoe suggested. She’s a good girl. Some misguided theories, but a good girl.” He laughed. “Please don’t tell her I said that. You may have noted, she can be a tad touchy.”
Gabe laughed too. “I noted. We’ll see you later. I’ll let Zoe know we can spring you from the hospital, as soon as she comes in.”
Zoe didn’t return for several hours. Just when he’d begun to wonder if she planned to stay away all day, she hurried into the office. As she did, an appointment pinged onto his screen.
Looked like I.T. had finally relented on sharing Patrick’s calendar.
And it looked like he’d need a hefty dose of patience, too. Zoe had retreated way back behind her defensive front again.
She grabbed her coat, refusing to meet his eyes. “I have an outside meeting. See you later.”
“Slow down.” He held up his hands like stop signs. “We have the same meeting. Patrick asked me to cover his appointments, and his calendar shows a visit to Pettett and Mayfield’s, with you.”
Her grimace could have been an attempt at a smile. “You don’t need to come. It’s just my sister’s back-to-work project. Patrick asked me to do some research on it.”
He could do with the time to work on his own project, but he wasn’t letting her wiggle away that easily. “My remit is to cover all Patrick's workload. We can be professional about this, right?”
She nodded, though reluctantly, with lips compressed. “We’ll need to go, or we’ll be late. It’s off Oxford Street. Walking distance. Well, London walking distance. Quicker to walk than get a cab or bus, with the traffic so bad.”
He picked up his coat, and held the office door open for her. “Lead the way. You can tell me about the research as we go. Oh, and Patrick called, he can leave the hospital tonight.”
Her rigid expression softened. “Wonderful. We can go straight there after we finish this meeting.”
Good thing she knew the way through the maze of connecting corridors between university buildings. He was lost after the second turn.
“My brother worked at the department store over Christmas as their celebrity Santa. Now he volunteers at a homeless shelter. My sister Tiff started a project, trying to get people from the shelter back into work. Patrick asked me to study the attitudes of participants and how they correlate to success in getting employed and staying employed.”
“Sounds good. And I get to meet your brother and sister too?”
Her nod held more than a hint of an eye roll. “They'll be there. Along with the participants and their mentors. Tiff's pouring a load of time and effort into it.”
“Her project should be worth it.”
Zoe shrugged, a little too dismissively. “I’m not sure of that. I tried to keep her expectations real so she doesn't get disappointed. Less than a quarter of participants in similar programmes stay in employment.”
She sounded so negative about the project. Or maybe it was her sister she was negative about. She’d hinted at sibling rivalry.
“Even if less than one in ten turn their lives around, isn’t it worth it? Jesus commanded us to help others.”
Her eyes narrowed and her hand clenched on the coat she carried. “It all sounds good, sure. But I know Tiff better than you. She starts projects with enthusiasm, then gives up when things get tough. I wanted to make sure she knew what she was letting herself in for, that's all.”
“Well, realistic expectations can be helpful. But not at the expense of hope.”
Zoe shook her head, looking down at the sidewalk.
It seemed like she was afraid to hope.
If hope was bad, and romance was bad, what else had she given up believing in?
Help her, Lord. And help me too. Looks like I’ll need more patience!
They emerged from the maze at a door to the outside world. He held her coat while she slipped her arms into it, then held the door open.
He’d expected she'd refuse his assistance.
She surprised him by accepting, turning to him with laughing eyes and a cute tilt of her head. “You thought I'd make a battle about it, didn’t you?”
He nodded. Nothing about Zoe added up, except in those simple moments when she caught him analysing her. It was as if she wiped the slate clean, and he was back to square one, trying to figure her out all over again.
Something told him trying could take a lifetime, and he’d still never have quite succeeded.
The idea didn’t worry him.
She sighed and shook her head. “I'm not a total sourpuss about everything. I know you think I’m being too harsh about Tiff’s project. I care for my sister, and I don't want to see her get hurt. She's fallen in love with this guy, Mac, and gotten deeply involved with the project. I’m worried it will end badly.”
Pushing the door shut behind them, he took her arm. The light overnight snowfall had melted, then refrozen into a slick of ice.
Even through her thick coat, her arm trembled beneath his hand.
“Tell me about your sister.” Just like the guys who’d hurt her, Zoe’s relationship with her twin was another key to working out her contradictions, what made her tick.
He wanted to understand her, more than anyone he’d ever known. He wanted to understand what hurt her so much she turned against love. If he understood, maybe he could help her to heal.
The look she threw him hinted that she guessed why he’d asked. She answered, anyway.
“We're twins, but totally different. You'll see when you meet her. She’s petite and pretty. She tumbles in and out of love and her career goals change with the season. Before Christmas she was desperate to be a fashion designer. Now it’s all her project and Mac.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “But there's something different this time. She’s really involved. I've never seen her get hurt before, but I’m afraid this time she might get her heart broken.”
“The way you did?” He kept his voice quiet and gentle.
She rubbed her forehead, and her chin dropped toward her chest. A flush coloured her cheeks. “I already told you about Brad and Adrian. Adrian hurt my pride more than anything else. I should have suspected he was interested in my work, not me.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Brad was different. I thought we really had something. Then once he met Maddie, he told me he loved me, but he wasn’t ‘in love’ with me.”
Her fingers moved to make quote marks around the words ‘in love’. Her voice held sarcasm, but he heard the hurt hidden beneath it.
Gabe’s throat tightened with compassion for the girl she’d been, and the woman she was now. He whispered a silent prayer for her heart to heal.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said out loud. He reached out a hand to her, but she pulled back.
Turning so he couldn’t see her expression, sh
e stalked away from him, angry words tumbling out. “Brad dumping me made me realise how destructive those ‘in love’ feelings are.” She shook her head. “The same thing came up repeatedly when I surveyed divorced couples. They didn’t feel in love anymore, so they looked for someone new. The search for romance breaks people’s hearts. It breaks marriages and lives. It’s not a reliable basis for a relationship. That’s why I’m worried about Tiff. She’s fallen in love too fast. My brother has with Cara, too.”
Gabe chose his words carefully. “Tell me, if you don’t think romantic feelings are a good basis for a relationship, what is?”
She stopped walking and turned to face him, something raw and painful in her eyes. “I don’t know. That’s the problem, I just don’t know.” The words sounded dragged from her. “All I know is I loved Brad. He said he loved me. He was going to propose. Then he married her instead.”
Her hands came up to cover her face, muffling her words, and she looked away. “His love wasn’t enough. There has to be something wrong with me that kept him from loving me enough.”
This was the fear her defences hid. That if love wasn’t the problem, she was.
His heart ached for her.
As he stepped closer, longing to comfort her, she whirled away from him, refusing his touch. Her feet slipped on the slick pavement, and she windmilled her arms as she lost balance.
His arms went around her to catch her, but instead of stopping her fall, she pulled him down with her. All he could do was swing her around, so at least she landed on top of him, rather than the other way around. The breath whooshed out of him as he hit the sidewalk, hard.
He lay there, winded, as she struggled to push herself off him. Her fingers touched his cheek, gentle and soft, and he opened his eyes to look into her concerned blue gaze. She leaned over him.
“Are you okay?”
“Just winded,” he gasped.
She smiled, and her touch became a caress. “Some hero you are. Aren’t you supposed to catch me?”
“That was the idea. Didn’t quite work that way.” He smiled up at her. “Maybe falling together is what God wants us to do.”
Forget Paris: Sweet and clean Christian romance in Paris and London (Love In Store Book 4) Page 10