by Claire Adams
Something about whatever was going on between James and me made me want to keep it to myself. To keep him to myself. And I wasn’t entirely convinced that it was all about my father’s rules anymore, either.
“So, back to the point,” Heather said. “What did you decide?” She looked so hopeful; I couldn’t help but give her my brightest smile.
“I’m back in the game, baby!” I pumped my fist into the air. Heather launched herself at me and pulled me into what could only be described as a clumsy jump hug.
“Oh, honey! I’m so happy for you!” She finally released me. “And for me, but mostly for you. Are you sure about this? Doing this for your father?”
“I’m not doing it for him. I’m doing this for me. I’m sure about that now.” The best thing about it was that I really was sure I was doing it for the right reasons. It was truly the right thing for me.
Heather’s eyes welled up with unshed tears, and she blinked them away. Absolute joy shined back at me. “I’m just so happy for you, friend. I was so worried about you for a minute or so back there.”
Well, that was news to me. “Really? Why?”
“You seemed so unhappy. So lost. I didn’t want to push you, but you were made to do this. You’ve been the most passionate person since the day that I met you. Then all that shit went down with your father, and I was afraid it was going to push you away from the thing you loved most.”
My heart softened, and my resolve strengthened even more. It occurred to me that I’d never asked Heather for her honest opinion on what I should do. I should have. “It almost did, but I came around. The more I got back into it, the more I realized how much I missed it.”
James had been instrumental in getting me back into it, but I kept that bit of information to myself. Although I still couldn’t quite figure out why I would.
Heather nodded. “However it happened, I’m just happy that it did.”
“So, without any further ado, should we get to it?” The books called to me from my desk. I really did have a lot of catching up to do.
“Absolutely, let’s do it.”
For the next couple of hours, that was exactly what we did. It was easy to fall back into my old routine with Heather. We’d study by ourselves for a while. Then, we’d do a couple of case studies together from practice questions and make notes as we identified areas we needed to revisit.
We collapsed into giggles about some of the sets of facts the professors had come up with. We devised elaborate defense strategies that would never hold up in court.
As the lights in the library flickered on and the sun started setting on the horizon, we packed it up for the day. Studying with Heather that afternoon had energized me in a way that I’d been missing like a lost limb. I was buzzing with it as my phone chimed in my bag.
James smiled at me from the display. I had snapped the picture that first day that we’d been on the beach. He wore the confident smirk of a man who knew exactly how much the camera loved him.
I silenced the phone, not wanting to answer in front of Heather. When I looked back at her, she studied me with a curious expression on her face. “Who was that?”
“Just some guy that I’ve been talking to lately.” I played it cool, even though my heart raced as it always did when he called. My phone dinged with an incoming text, arousing her interest even further.
James: How are you still studying?? When you’re ready for a break, I happen to be a great distraction ;-)
That he was. I stashed my phone back in my bag. I would text him back later.
A deep flush spread on my cheeks, and Heather had taken an intense interest. “Oh my, you’ve been holding out on me. Haven’t you?”
“We’re just having fun. It’s nothing serious.” I wasn’t so sure that was entirely true anymore, though. Not for me, anyway. I had no idea what to think about what James might or might not be thinking about our situation.
“Judging by the way you just blushed, you took me up on my idea of getting a sexy guy to distract you while you figured things out. Aside from Mr. Harry Potter, that is.” Her eyes sparkled, and her grin spread wide across her face. “And it seems he successfully managed to get you out of that brain of yours.”
“Come on, Heather. Stop it, what are we? Sixteen?” I couldn’t hold back my laughter completely, though.
“Okay, okay.” She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “For the record, I’m really happy that you met someone who can make you blush like that.”
“The record shall reflect that you enjoy my embarrassment.”
“It’s not embarrassment though; not only that, anyway. At this point of our friendship, I have no idea why you would be embarrassed about this sort of stuff unless…wait. Is he like, really ugly? Or really stupid?” Amusement shone in her wide eyes.
“He is definitely neither of those things. I guarantee it.” I was kind of smug as I said it. James was seriously hot, and he was really intelligent.
“Of course, he wouldn’t be. You would never hook up with a guy like that. I don’t know why you’re being so skittish about the details, but I trust you enough to tell me about it when you’re ready.”
If I was being honest, I didn’t know why either. “Thanks, Heather. You’re the best.” I hugged her goodbye, and we loaded our books into our cars.
“I know. Have you cooked him dinner yet?”
I was mildly confused by her question. I wasn’t a bad cook, by any means, but I was no chef. “No, why?”
Heather’s face lit up. “You know that old saying, that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? Men love a woman who cooks for them.”
I bit back a slightly sarcastic, possibly dirty retort, but then I realized that her advice actually made at least a little bit of sense.
“That’s not a bad idea, Heather. Thanks, maybe I’ll do that.”
“Let me know how it goes. Ciao, bella.” Heather was not Italian, not even a quarter or a fifth. Not at all. But every once in a while, she’d break out the farewell. It was one of the little quirks that I loved about her.
“Thanks, I will.” A plan was already forming in my mind as I fastened my seat belt.
Chapter Seventeen
James
“I was beginning to think that you’d gotten stuck in one of those big books of yours,” I said by way of greeting when Gabrielle returned my call the next morning.
“It was a close call, but I managed to escape from it.” There was a nervous edge to her voice that I wasn’t sure I’d heard before.
I hadn’t seen her since I’d told her about Harper, but we’d been speaking on the phone and texting, so nothing had changed. Not that I knew of, anyway.
“Just so you know, I would’ve found the book and beat the shit out it until it let you go.” It was a joke, maybe not a good one, but even the shitty ones usually got at least giggle out of her. But this one got no response at all. Not even a groan. Something was going on. “What’s up?”
“I, uh,” she hesitated. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place for dinner tonight?”
“You cooking?” Like that mattered. Wild horses weren’t going to stop me from going to her place and fucking her properly, and at my leisure for once.
“Yeah, I was thinking that I would. Don’t get your hopes up too much. We might end up eating Chinese takeout.”
Or I could just eat you. I bit my tongue; I was pretty sure that my cheesy line quota for the week had been filled. “Good thing that I love Chinese, then. What time?”
“Is 6 good for you? Does that interfere with Harper’s routine? It doesn’t really matter so much to me. I just need to know when to get dinner started. I’ll be done at the library by 5.”
I hesitated at how casually she had just mentioned Harper. Is she actually worried about my kid?
Gabrielle was starting to become too good to be true. There had to be a catch somewhere, right? Maybe that’s what the nervousness was about.
“No, 6 is f
ine. Harper’s at a friend’s birthday party. She’ll be wiped out by the time I pick her up, and Mrs. W. can put her to bed. Thanks for checking.”
Thanks for checking? Fuck me.
Gabrielle ignored my moment of insanity. She didn’t call me out on it, anyway. “Sure thing. I’ll see you at 6, then. Let me know if you need to make it later after you pick Harper up. I’ll text you my address.”
“Yeah, I will. I’ll see you then. Hey, Gabbi.” I caught her just before she hung up.
“Yeah?”
“I’m looking forward to seeing your place.” Especially your bedroom, I added to myself.
“Yeah, yeah. Come hungry. I’m making one of my mother’s recipes.”
And there I was thinking about her bedroom.
You’re an asshole. I chided myself as she clicked off.
I talked my cock down all day. We were atoning for our dirty thoughts by promising to be on our best behavior that night.
Gabrielle cooking one of her mother’s recipes was important to her. I was relieved that she’d told me before I’d arrived so I didn’t make an ass of myself if I didn’t like the food.
As I had predicted, Harper was exhausted when I picked her up from the birthday party. Mrs. W. cooked her an early dinner and assured me that she would call me if they needed anything.
Then, she practically shooed me out of my own goddamn door when I told her that I was having dinner at a woman’s house. She ignored my protests that it was too early to leave. She told me that a gentleman showed up on time and waved me off.
I ended up having to drive around Gabrielle’s neighborhood more than once to kill time until I remembered that I wasn’t a gentleman, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to drive around wasting time.
I pulled up to Gabrielle’s place 10 minutes early. It was huge, even by my standards. She even had a porte cochere. Most people wouldn’t expect me to know what it was called. I’d have bet money on it.
I parked underneath it and raised the brass knocker on her door. She answered it quickly, looking like some kind of domestic goddess with her flour-covered apron and her hair pulled up in a loose bun. Tendrils of hair had escaped from it and framed her gorgeous face.
She broke into a wide grin. “You’re early.”
“Yeah, Mrs. W. might have gotten overly excited.”
She gave me a chaste peck on the cheek and then stepped back, motioning me into her house.
The design was unexpectedly similar to mine. Minus the toys and baby clutter, of course. Her place was done up in white and mint green, with professional-looking photographs lining the walls.
Soft throws had been placed over her couches, and the bookshelves that lined her living room were with filled with books that looked like she’d actually read them. A dirty coffee mug sat next to a mystery novel on her coffee table.
It was kind of endearing that she was willing to give me a peek into what she was like when she was alone, as opposed to having scrubbed the place cleaner than a hospital like so many other girls would have.
“Smells amazing in here.” It really did.
A slow flush spread on her cheeks as she took the compliment. “Thanks, I don’t make it as well as my mother did, but she got the recipe for paella on a trip to Spain, and she spent years perfecting it with ingredients that she could find here.”
“Sounds like you got your determination and dedication from her.”
A faraway smile played on her lips. “I guess so. Although you know as well as anyone how dedicated my dad is to his job.” The happy smile she had been wearing slipped from her face.
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, I reached out and cupped her cheek. “That must be why you have it by the boatload.”
She cracked a small smile. “Yeah, that has to be it.”
With a deep breath, she collected herself and led me to the kitchen. A center island housed the oven and stove with a sleek aluminum light hanging above it.
Several pots bubbled away, and a fresh loaf of bread sat on a cooling tray. I had to actively stop myself from drooling. We were definitely not getting takeout.
Gabrielle’s usual easygoing demeanor returned as she flitted about the kitchen, stirring the contents of some of the pots and turning up the soft music that flowed from built-in speakers. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Sure, I’ll take a beer if you’ve got one.” My mouth had turned drier than the Sahara as I watched her do her thing.
“I picked some up earlier.” She pulled a beer from her fridge and handed it over. “Let’s go sit.”
I followed her to her entertainment area in the backyard, where she’d set places at a massive wooden table. “You sure you have enough seating here?”
She didn’t skip a beat. “You never know when the urge to play musical chairs might hit. Best to be prepared.”
There’s my girl. I laughed and moved my place setting to the seat right beside hers.
Wait. Shit. My girl? What the fuck?
I cleared my throat and pushed the stray thought from my mind. “See, there. The urge hit. Good thing you were ready for it.”
Her head fell back as she laughed, exposing her long, smooth neck. The urge to kiss her there took me, so I leaned over and pressed my lips to her skin, breathing in her intoxicating smell. Despite my earlier pep talk, my cock joined the party.
Gabrielle’s breathing hitched, then she swatted my arm lightly. “If you distract me, our dinner will burn, and we’ll have to settle for something mediocre. I know how much you like good food, so down boy.” She took the command to my cock right out of my mouth.
Sorry, buddy. Food first. My stomach agreed wholeheartedly.
I smirked. “Just saying hello properly.”
“Yeah well, your hello will have to wait until after we’ve eaten.” She couldn’t hide the flush spreading over her neck where I’d kissed her, despite her outward nonchalance.
A timer went off somewhere in the house, and Gabrielle jumped up, leaving me to survey my surroundings.
Her entertainment area was open, like mine, and led to a green lawn with cacti in pots lining the walls and a sparkling blue pool. Her uncovered blue pool, the dad in me noticed.
“Come and get it,” she called from the kitchen. “If it tastes like shit, just tell me. I haven’t attempted this in a long time. I won’t be offended. I think I may have added too much salt.”
It tasted like heaven. Mrs. W.’s cooking was hearty and comforting, the fancy restaurants that I frequented were great, but neither had anything on the food that I shoveled into my mouth. Gabrielle’s food was on a whole different level. “This is amazing.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and her eyes lit up. “It actually kind of is. I think that I may have done it justice.”
“And then some. Was your mom Spanish?” I knew that her mom was a touchy subject, but the smile that played on her lips told me that she was okay with that line of questioning. Like it brought back fond memories for her.
“No, but she lived there for a few years after college. She always said that she could never get enough of their cuisine.” She sipped on her sangria. “Enough about me. How was Harper’s party?”
That unfamiliar feeling stirred in my stomach again. “It was great, if her exhaustion is anything to go by. They had a bouncy castle and ice cream.”
Gabrielle laughed. “Well, with those two things, there’s no way it could have been anything but amazing.”
“Yeah, that combination will win you the hearts of every kid there every time.” It surprised me how easy it was to talk to Gabrielle about Harper.
We kept talking as we finished our dinner and cleared the table. It was seriously the best meal I’d had in forever.
“So, you going to give me the grand tour?” I gestured to her hallway.
“Okay, so this is the kitchen. That’s the living room. And we just had dinner outside.” The girl loved her some sarcasm. I liked that about her.
I followed
her down her hallway, where more personal pictures were tacked to the walls. She pointed out several rooms, but I was distracted by a picture of Richard holding a baby that must’ve been her.
No shit, Sherlock.
There were several others surrounding it. It was clear that her relationship with her father meant more to her than she liked to let on.
“James,” she called from somewhere out of sight. She had disappeared into a room at the end of the hall.
“Yeah, coming.” Hopefully soon.
The bedroom that I followed her into was tastefully decorated, with a four-post bed made up with crisp white sheets and flowing curtains that hung in front of glass sliding doors.
None of that made an impact on me. The only thing that I could absorb was the fact that Gabrielle was standing there in front of her bed.
Stark. Fucking. Naked.
Chapter Eighteen
Gabrielle
James did a double take and froze as he stepped into my bedroom and laid eyes on me.
It was a risk, I knew, but he hadn’t disappointed thus far. I just had to trust that he wouldn’t this time.
A frisson of pleasure ran through me as his eyes widened and his pupils dilated. I loved that I affected him in the way that I did.
Never in a million years would I have expected that the sexiest, most beautiful man that I’d ever laid eyes on would look at me the way he did.
I’d had a good long talk with myself the night before, trying to make sense of the feelings that I started having for him.
Somewhere along the line, he had gone from being a distraction that would piss my father off to no end, to the guy who had my heart skipping a beat with every touch. The man that made me smile every time my phone displayed his name. The man who could make an ache rise between my thighs with one look.
Exactly like the look he was giving me as he moved towards me. My entire body hummed as he kept my eyes locked on his and stalked me with powerful grace.
“Don’t ever stop surprising me like this,” he growled before he wrapped his strong arms around me and kissed me like he meant it. I had every intention of obeying his order.