Forget Paris: Sweet and clean Christian romance in Paris and London (Love In Store Book 4)

by Autumn Macarthur

  She could believe Gabe had feelings for her now.

  Believing he’d choose to commit to her, and stay committed, that was a leap of faith too far, especially when he was vulnerable.

  But she thought of that verse Tiff had mentioned at the store.

  Fix your thoughts on what is true and good and right. Think about things that are pure and lovely, and dwell on the fine, good things in others. Think about all you can praise God for and be glad about.

  Gabe was true and good and right. And it felt like God had given her the opportunity to help him heal after his losses. If being his transitional girlfriend was what it took, she’d do it.

  She’d deal with it ending when it happened.

  Chapter 18

  When his cell phone woke him, Gabe felt as if he’d been asleep about ten minutes. He struggled to full wakefulness, and glanced at the time.

  Midnight. He truly had been asleep only about ten minutes.

  Despite good intentions for an early night, Patrick kept him talking late, after he’d come back from walking Zoe home. Seemed the hospital stay had been a wake-up call for the older man to change his life. Then thoughts of Zoe made it hard to sleep.

  Fumbling for the phone, he answered the call, and muttered something that might pass for hello.

  Zoe’s sweet voice filled his ear. “Gabe, are you okay? You took ages to pick up. Remember, you have to talk sense to me, or Nick will be on his way with that wet washcloth.”

  “You’re amazingly chirpy.” He tried hard to make that sound like a compliment and not a criticism. “Have you been to sleep yet?”

  “Not yet. Tiff and I made up after that row this afternoon. We’ve been talking. I’m glad. It feels like we’re better friends than we’ve ever been.” Her sigh sounded happy and content.

  And she sounded honest and open, as if she and Gabe were now friends, too.

  He smiled into the darkness. “I’m glad to hear that too. Glad for you.”

  “I guess I’d better let you get some more rest. Next call in three hours, sleepy boy.”

  “Is that a promise, or a threat, sweetheart.”

  The endearment slipped out without thinking. Too late to take it back. It was meant, completely, but he knew too well that Zoe couldn’t be rushed.

  He tensed, waiting for her voice to stiffen, her defensive briskness to reappear.

  She laughed. “Both. Sleep while you can. Talk to you at three.”

  No hint of distance or reluctance.

  That surprised him. Maybe she hadn’t heard what he said.

  Though her laugh and her voice held a tremor, as if she teetered on the edge of a shy nervous blush.

  She’d heard him all right.

  Thoughts of her kept him awake long after she ended the call.

  He must have fallen asleep, because answering her next call felt like surfacing from deep water. All he could muster was a groggy murmured “Hmmm?”

  Though her sleepy, “You okay?” in reply didn’t sound much better.

  She’d be tucked up in bed, blankets pulled up under her chin, cell phone in one hand. Her bedroom was probably all sweet and flowery and girly, a total contrast to the sensible image she tried to project. The thought woke him all the way up. He dragged his mind away from the far too delectable image of her snuggled under the covers, her hair all over her shoulders, her eyes sleepy and bemused.

  “Not so wide awake this time, huh?” Teasing his sleepy headed girl was the safest way to avoid any dangerous thoughts.

  “Alarm went off, I hit redial.” A smile sounded in her slurred voice as the mumbled words ran together. “No need to wake right up if you promise you’re okay.”

  He grinned, something sweet and tender warming in his chest, that she’d cared enough to bother to make the call. “Go back to sleep. You can hear me talking to you. I’m okay.”

  “Alright…” Her voice trailed off and he heard her fumble as she ended the call.

  Next time he woke, daylight filtered through the curtains. Sounds of someone moving around, of water running, and a kettle being switched on came from the kitchen. Patrick must be awake.

  Gabe picked up his phone. Six forty five. He stretched, yawned, and felt the bump on his scalp. Not nearly as tender as yesterday.

  Miss Sleepyhead must have forgotten to set her alarm to wake her for the final call at six a.m. He hit last number redial to call her, instead.

  “Forgotten something?” he gently ribbed her.

  “Oh my.” She sounded suddenly wide awake, like someone who’d bolted upright in bed with surprise. “I’m so sorry, Gabe. That’s a terrible thing for me to do, to fall asleep when I promised I’d call to check on you. I really slipped up on doing my job.”

  The genuine guilt and remorse in her voice showed how seriously she took this. He had no intention of making her feel worse.

  “You don’t have to worry. I’m still alive. The lump has gone down. It’s tomorrow already, and all is well.”

  “No thanks to me.”

  “Stop blaming yourself already.” He infused as much gentle laughter as he could into his tone.

  “Okay.” Her voice dragged out on the word, as if she was reluctant to let it go. Then she sighed. “How is Patrick? Have you seen him this morning?”

  “Not yet, but someone is making tea in the kitchen, so I’m guessing he’s fine. I’ll let you know when I see you in the office.”

  “Promise you’ll call me if there’s a problem?”

  He didn’t know if she meant a problem with him, or Patrick, but he agreed anyway. Anything to take the guilty and anxious note from her voice. “Of course I will.”

  Again she sighed. “Okay. I’ll trust you on that one. Sounds like Tiff’s at my bedroom door.” Her voice held a smile. “I’ll see you later.”

  He sensed something had shifted in their relationship. He didn’t know where they were, but he did know they weren’t in Kansas anymore.

  He was already in their shared office eyeing a huge stack of assignments the porter had just dumped on his desk, when Zoe arrived. Somehow, she looked different. Not big changes, but subtly more sensational, from the top of her head to the tips of her green suede boots. Her hair curled on her shoulders in silky spirals, and she wore a pretty flowery skirt.

  His appreciation must have shown on his face, because she blushed, ducked her head, and tugged at the hem of her soft sweater.

  “Tiff insisted on lending me this skirt she bought in the sales then realised was too big for her. And she wanted to do my hair. I had to let her, to show that we’d made up after yesterday.”

  She sounded apologetic, almost embarrassed, to have come to work looking less like a serious academic and more like a twenty-something girl. But the colour warming her cheeks and her shy uncertain smile suggested she knew he liked the way she looked, and she wasn’t too unhappy to know it.

  Just as clearly, she wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

  “I need coffee before we deal with the assignment mountain. Do you want some? Marking so many will take us all day and all evening too.” She spoke fast and glanced away, refusing to meet his gaze as she rustled in her filing cabinet for her mug.

  No matter how much he appreciated her new look, the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. She’d need time to adjust to whatever had changed between them.

  For that matter, he probably did too.

  He had no idea what it meant or where things were going, only that things had changed, and he wanted them to keep changing and growing this way.

  Closer. Happier. More open.

  Smiling, he infused reassurance into his voice. Even if she didn’t glance at him and see it, hopefully she’d hear it

  “I could do with coffee, too. Someone kept ringing me all night.” He grinned at her, so she’d know he was joking. Sometimes, she took the most unexpected things seriously.

  Not this time. She raised her eyebrows and looked heavenwards. “Ha ha. Give me your mug, I’ll get y
ou a cup. I guess I owe you that much, to make up for missing that last call.”

  He searched his desk and bookshelf. “It’s not here. I must have left it in the tutorial room yesterday. I’ll find it, and meet you in the staff room, okay?”

  Zoe nodded and hurried out, still without really looking at him.

  He walked in the opposite direction to fetch his mug, shaking his head at her contradictions. This girl he hoped to make his some day, needed patience and gentle handing. She couldn’t be pushed.

  The mug was exactly where he’d left it. As he reached the staff room door, he hesitated. Zoe was speaking to someone, and it sounded like a private conversation. He didn’t want to interrupt.

  Though he didn’t really want to eavesdrop either.

  “You need to be very careful about spreading a rumour like that,” she said, her voice shaking with what could have been either anger or fear. “It’s a total lie.”

  “My cousin applied for that job, and was passed over, though she’s perfectly well qualified. I can’t think of any other reason why he was appointed, or why they kept the position open for him when he had the alleged ‘family issues’. No one else gets such preferential treatment.”

  He didn’t recognise the woman’s voice, but her tone held a nasty sneer. Were they talking about him?

  “He seems a nice guy. I wouldn’t have thought it of him. Or her.” That sounded like Sarah, the department secretary.

  “I know for a fact there’s nothing between them,” Zoe replied. “They’re both Christians, and neither of them would be involved in anything so underhand. What you’re accusing them of could get them both dismissed. I’m not sure why they chose him and not your cousin, but he’s more than qualified for the post. I have no doubt he got the job on his own merits. Have you seen his list of publications?”

  They had to be talking about him. He’d heard more than enough.

  Whatever the gossip was, it wasn’t Zoe’s job to defend him, and he didn’t want her getting mixed up with any hint of ugliness. He stepped into the staff room, ready to stop things, but none of them seemed to be aware of him.

  Zoe stood with her back to him, so rigid she almost vibrated. She continued speaking, her voice passionate. “And besides, there can’t be anything going on between him and Professor Blaiklock. I’m dating him. We started seeing each other before he began working here.”

  The woman sitting next to Sarah glared at Zoe, eyes avid and venomous as a snake about to strike, her mouth open to speak.

  This had to stop, now. He might have spent his whole life being Mr Nice Guy and not making waves, but he wouldn’t stand by and watch anyone attack Zoe.

  He stepped between them, holding up one hand to stop the woman saying anything, and slipping his other arm around Zoe’s waist. She trembled beneath his touch, and didn’t look up at him, but she didn’t pull away.

  The gossip’s triumphant face changed, almost collapsing in on itself.

  “Zoe and I dating won’t breach any university rules, it’s that’s what you were about to say. I have Human Resources’ assurance that though I’m filling in for Professor Fowler temporarily, I’m not officially her supervisor. There’s no reason at all we shouldn’t date. Not that I see how it’s any business of yours.”

  He kept his voice polite, but firm, fixing the gossiping woman with what he hoped was a convincing steely glare.

  She shrank back in the chair and threw him a dirty look, but said nothing.

  “Let’s get our coffee and start marking those assignments,” he said to Zoe. Reluctantly releasing his clasp on her waist, he held out his hand to take her mug. “I’ll make it for you.”

  Without speaking, she handed it to him. Her hand shook a little.

  He poured coffee from the machine in the corner, adding creamer and one sugar to hers before handing the mug back to her.

  “Thank you. Just the way I like it,” Zoe said, glancing toward the seated woman as if making sure she’d noticed.

  They turned and walked out the door together. Zoe stayed stiff and silent until they reached the office. But once the office door closed, she dumped her mug on the desk, then plopped into her chair and rubbed her hands over her face. She seemed reluctant to look at him.

  “Zoe?” he asked. What was she hiding behind those hands?

  She straightened her shoulders, lowered her hands, and looked straight at him, her blue eyes clouded and troubled.

  “I’m sorry I lied and said we were dating,” she burst out. “I know universities can be full of gossip. Even the small Christian college I went to had plenty of gossip. But I never guessed it could be so nasty and malicious. The things that woman said were mean.”

  The expanse of laminate desktop and two computer screens put too big a barrier between them. He pulled his chair to the side of her desk, so their knees almost touched. Reaching out, he took her hand.

  It trembled in his, then stilled.

  “You don’t need to apologise. You did nothing wrong. And you didn’t tell a lie. We did meet before I started here” All he wanted to do was comfort her.

  “When she implied you'd behaved improperly to get your job. I had to speak out. I couldn't let her say that about you.”

  She seemed to have a desperate need to explain herself. Sweet Zoe. There was nothing to explain, and nothing for her to be so worried about, either.

  “I'd already heard there was some gossip. Elizabeth told me, and laughed about it. It's just sour grapes.” His hand tightened on Zoe’s and he leaned closer. “People will always talk. Ignoring these things is part of academia. I promise you, there’s no more between me and Elizabeth than there is between you and Patrick.”

  She nodded, but her miserable expression didn’t budge. “I never doubted that. But I could have made things worse. They’ll gossip about us now, instead. And when I said it, I didn’t know for sure whether you are or aren’t my boss while Patrick’s away.” Zoe chewed on her lower lip.

  His eyes were drawn to the movement. He was less worried about the gossip, and more about kissing that poor mistreated lip better.

  Lines from a country song Mom had listened to over and over again came to mind. ‘God Gave Me You.’ That was how he felt about Zoe. They were here together because God wanted them to be.

  “I found an email from H.R. when I got in this morning. While Patrick’s away, the Dean is officially your manager. There’s not a rule in the world that says we can’t date.” He stood, pulled her to her feet, and into his arms. “If it’s not against college rules, and it’s not against God’s rules, why should I care if people think there's something going on between us?”

  Her eyes gazing up at him were troubled. “You don’t mind?”

  “Of course not.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead, and took her face in his hands, cradling it as gently as if she was fragile china. “I want it to be the truth. I like the idea of us dating.”

  Her eyes widened. She nodded uncertainly.

  “You must know I want to spend more time with you. And not just as work colleagues.”

  “You do? But that’s just the procedure.”

  “I don’t think so. But even if it is, does that mean we shouldn’t date? It needn’t be anything serious. Let’s just spend time together as friends. We can get to know each other better.”

  “I guess we could.” Getting answers wasn’t going to be easy. He felt like he had to wring every hesitant word from her.

  “And do you want to spend more time with me?” He held his breath, waiting for her reply.

  Her long lashes swept down, veiling her eyes. Then she nodded again, but said nothing.

  “You were right to say what you said. The best way to quiet the other rumours is to date openly.” He took a deep breath. “I feel like God has given us the gift of time together. Let’s accept that blessing?”

  Slowly, she lifted her face to his. The quiet wonder in her eyes exploded the warmth in his heart into a flame. He lowered his head, to
brush his lips against hers. The light gentle kiss felt full of promise, sealing some sort of unspoken pact between them.

  Not a commitment yet, it was way too soon for that. But an acknowledgement they could be heading in that direction.

  For all he’d said they should keep things light, meet as friends, he was about to kiss her again, slower and longer and sweeter, when someone giggled outside the office door.

  Zoe startled and pulled away from him, knocking against her chair in her haste. He looked to the door. Two faces peered in the small window, but quickly withdrew when they realised he’d spotted them.

  He laughed, shook his head, and turned to Zoe.

  She gazed at him, waiting for his response.

  “Looks like our anti-rumour campaign is off to a good start. Don’t look so worried, sweetheart. It will all be okay.”

  A smile rose to her lips. “I hope so.” She turned and waved at the stack of assignments. “We’d better get to work. I need to go to Patrick’s office to find his marking guide.”

  But before she did, she grabbed his face, and planted a quick kiss on his surprised mouth. “That’s for being wonderful. And for being patient with me.”

  She rushed out the door, leaving him staring after her, smiling and shaking his head, his lips still tingling and joy swelling in his chest.

  Lord, I trust You know what’s happening here. Because I don’t. She’s amazing, she’s astonishing, she’s delightful, and it looks like I just bought a season ticket for her roller coaster ride.

  Chapter 19

  Zoe turned to smile at Gabe, close behind her, as she pushed open the bright blue door of the homeless shelter. It almost felt like she was a different woman to the girl she’d been when she met Gabe on Valentine’s Day, six weeks before.

  Being around him had changed her, for the better.

  “I can’t believe it’s only a month since our first session here,” she said. “I was so nervous then, if it wasn’t for you, I would have turned tail and run away.”