Ace-High Flush

by Patricia Green

  She slid her hand down his torso and cupped his half-hard member. "Anywhere?"

  "Well, I don't want to go to Nebraska, but that's about my limit."

  "How about New York? I know a little place right outside Central Park."

  She could sense him nodding, but she was more interested in the hardening flesh in her hand.

  "You make the reservations," he told her. "Mmm. I like that. Don't stop."

  She squeezed. "Okay. I'll make reservations. There's something I'd like to eat right now, though."

  He chuckled. "Don't let me stop you, li'l girl."

  Chapter 3

  Gabriella woke later than usual the following day. A smile crept over her face as she remembered the night before. It had been perfect, magical. When Ace touched her, she wanted to burst with pleasure. He was gorgeous and smart and funny. The way he spoke was like maple syrup, sweet and unlike anything she'd ever known before. He treated her like a precious person, and she wondered at the way that made her feel. The demands that he made upon her—decorum, manners, cooperation, even obedience—added to her sense of being cared for. He could be a little forceful, and wasn't always comfortable to be around, but he was never oblique. Ace made his wishes known, along with his opinions but at the same time, he listened to hers attentively. He didn't treat her like unwashed pavement.

  She was beginning to look to him for his greater experience as well. Although their age difference was something she wanted to ignore, Gabby had to admit that it made her take him more seriously, listen more carefully and look for the reasoning behind his words. There was no getting around the age difference, but it mattered and it didn't, all at the same time.

  When he went back to Texas, she'd miss him a great deal. She never expected to have things become more permanent, but he had insinuated himself in her life and she couldn't fool herself into thinking that she wouldn't be very alone after he left. She wasn't the fling type, even if she wished she could be, and neither was he. What made her think she could use him and walk away?

  She indulged herself in an extra hour of sleep since she'd not gotten home until after 3:00 a.m. Ace seemed inclined to have her stay until morning, but they both realized that wouldn't work out with Gabby's mother waiting at the apartment. And she was waiting.

  Although her conversation with her mother didn't devolve to screaming and growling, Gabby's mother had called her some pretty rude names. Resentful, Gabby tucked her mother in bed and retreated to her own room in sleepy defeat.

  It started all over again the next morning.

  "I see you managed to get out of bed this morning. Out of your bed, that is. You crawled out of his bed late enough…or maybe you were kicked out."

  Gabby gritted her teeth. "I'm not getting into it with you, Mama."

  "Ashamed?" She shifted around in her recliner and groaned.

  "No. I am not ashamed." Gabby began walking away. She needed to get busy cleaning the house. She liked to take advantage of days when she wasn't scheduled to work. It seemed like the household chores never ended.

  "You should be. Come back here."

  Gabby stopped but did not turn back to face her mother. "I don't want to argue."

  "Honey…honey…" Her mother sighed and her voice was conciliatory when she spoke. "I am not trying to be mean. I don't want you to end up like I did, that's all. Unmarried and pregnant. Totally disowned by my family. On my own at eighteen."

  Gabby's shoulders slumped a little. She knew her mother meant well, despite her harsh behavior. Her mother loved her. "I'm twenty, Mama. Not eighteen. And I won't get pregnant, I promise."

  "He's so much older than you."

  "Why does that matter?"

  "How can you be sure he isn't only after a young chippie for a good time?"

  She faced her mother. "How do you know that I'm not after the same thing?"

  "Gabriella Cristabel Marie Appleby!"

  Shame made Gabby's face hot. She shouldn't be poking her mother. The woman was sick, depressed and worried. "I'm sorry, Mama. Let's not talk about this anymore, okay?"

  "Are you seeing him again?"

  "Yeah. Tonight."

  "You're going to leave me alone again? For a third night in a row?"

  "Mrs. Riley—"

  "Mrs. Riley is not my family, Gabby. You are. You shouldn't be leaving me in the care of a stranger from down the hall. And you know I'm too weak to manage all by myself."

  Gabby walked over to her mother and peered into the coffee cup that sat on the table near her elbow. "More coffee?"

  "Don't change the subject!"

  She took the cup and went into the kitchen. When she got there, she slumped against the counter and hung her head. Conflict was exhausting. And, in some ways—key ways—her mother was right. She shouldn't be left to the care of a neighbor. Gabby really needed to hire an aide to come in while she wasn't at home. Maybe if they cut back on expenses more, it could be done. Sighing, she stopped herself from falling into that trap again. Their expenses were cut to the bone; there was no place to economize. She bit her lip. The answer was to model more, but modeling jobs were hard to come by. Her agent did her best, but Gabby, while pretty, wasn't exotic or unusual in any way. There were jobs, nude jobs, and stuff that bordered on pornography. Those paid pretty well and were easy enough to get, even though she was padded. She'd been resisting, however, because good Catholic girls did not have sordid pictures taken of themselves. Still, it would pay for the aide. The whole idea had been churning around in her head for a month or more. She'd have to force herself to do it. It was the only way.

  In the meantime, Gabby was responsible for her mother. It was improper for her to be going out on the town every night while her mother was home, suffering alone.

  She poured more coffee and brought it back out to the small table at her mother's elbow. "I'll cancel tonight's date, Mama. We'll watch TV together, you and I. Okay?"

  "Dancing With The Stars?"

  Gabby smiled, but she wasn't at all happy. "That's our favorite show, isn't it?"

  The older woman nodded and rested her head back on the cushion behind her. "I love you, Gabby."

  "I love you, too, Mama." A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away as she went for her phone to call Ace.

  * * *

  Ace juggled the teetering cardboard box as he pressed the door intercom outside Gabby's building. The Chinese food inside the box was making him hungry as a bear at the end of hibernation.

  "Yes?"

  "Gabby, it's Ace. Let me in, sweetheart."

  "Ace? What are you doing here? I thought you understood that our date was canceled."

  The box tilted in his arms and he adjusted his hold. "I know. Let me in, will you please?"

  The door buzzed and Ace made his way through and started up the stairs. Gabby came out to meet him. Her hair was drawn up in a messy ponytail at the crown of her head; she wore no makeup; and, her gray sweatpants and tank top were rumpled and showed water spots. She was adorable.

  "Hi, li'l girl."

  "Hi, yourself. What are you doing here? And what's that in the box?"

  He met her on the landing. "Since you couldn't come out for dinner, I brought dinner to you. Chinese."

  She bit her lower lip and her gaze went from him to the box and back again. "That was nice of you. You know, my mother is—"

  He nodded as he spoke. "I know. I brought chocolate, too."

  Gabby giggled. "I don't know if you'll succeed in buttering her up, but chocolate will help." She gestured up the stairs. "Come on up. I was right in the middle of something that can't wait."

  Opening the apartment door, she called out to her mother. "Mama, Ace is here. He brought dinner. Isn't that a nice surprise?"

  The apartment smelled better this time, clean and fresh. The late summer sun beamed orange, at an angle though one barred window.

  The older woman roused herself, though she didn't move from her recliner. "What?"

  Ace smiled as her eyes l
it on him. "Good ev'nin', ma'am."

  Ignoring his friendly greeting, she frowned at Gabby. "I thought you told him to get lost."

  Gabby took the box from Ace and headed toward the kitchen. Either she hadn't heard her mother's complaint, or she was ignoring it. Ace couldn't tell which.

  Anita's eyes narrowed on him. "How dare you show up like this? Is something wrong with your hearing? My daughter turned you down."

  Ace took his hat off and ruffled his hair. The loveseat across from Gabby's mother was a little worn and small, but it was the only place to sit. "She said she couldn’t go out tonight, not that she didn't want to have dinner."

  "Ha! What a conniving bastard!" She pointed a thick finger at him. "Don't think you can outsmart me, Mr. Texan. My daughter might be an easy target, but I'm not."

  Ace didn't like the way she denigrated Gabby, as though the girl was a slut. "Your daughter isn’t easy, and she isn't a target at all. I respect your daughter, Mrs…uh…Anita. I am beginnin' to wonder if you respect her, though."

  Her jaw tightened and she sniffed.

  There was a clanking from the kitchen. "Ow!"

  Anita called out. "Gabby? Are you alright?"

  Ace stood and moved into the kitchen. It was a tidy, bright yellow space, small but scrupulously clean. Gabby had her upper body under the sink and a small toolbox rested on the floor at her feet. "Goddamn you, turn!"

  Ace bent to look at what had her so riled up. She was armed with a monkey wrench, and was trying to turn the fitting above the p-trap. "You okay?"

  "My earring fell into the sink a few hours ago as I was scrubbing. I'm sure it's in the trap, but I can't get the damned thing to unscrew."

  "Come out of there."

  "It's a gold earring, Ace. I can't let it wash away."

  He doffed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. "I'll do it. Come out."

  "I can do it!"

  "Yeah, I can see how successful you are."

  "Don't be sarcastic." She huffed as she tried again to turn the fitting.

  Ace grabbed her by the hips and slid her out of the cabinet, taking the wrench from her. "Out, li'l girl."

  "Look, just because you have those Neanderthal muscles doesn't mean you can waltz in here and show off. I can do this."

  He quirked an eyebrow at her as he helped her to her feet. She confronted him with hands on her hips, reminding him of one of his sister's Jack Russell terriers. "Watch your tongue, Gabriella. Rudeness gets the same treatment as lyin’.”

  She snorted and reached for the wrench. Ace easily held it out of her reach. "You jerk! Gimme the fuckin' wrench!"

  He nudged her aside and got under the cabinet. "We'll deal with your temper tantrum–and language–later."

  "Ace!"

  The p-trap fitting came right off, and he scooted back out of the cupboard and handed the curved pipe to Gabby. "Pour this into a bucket and get your earring."

  She huffed but did as she was told. When she found her jewelry, her eyes lit up. "Thank you."

  He nodded and took the pipe back from her. "You're welcome." It took him less than a minute to reattach the trap.

  "I'm sorry I was so sharp with you."

  "You'll be sorrier later." He rolled down his sleeves, feeling great satisfaction at seeing the realization on her face.

  Her voice was a whisper. "You can't spank me here, Ace."

  "Nope."

  Her posture loosened. "As long as we have that straight."

  "Oh, that's straight. I'm sure we can find a proper woodshed." He mulled over a few ideas, but his stomach was growling. "Why don't you wash your hands, li'l girl, and dish up some dinner."

  Gabby eyed him warily, but a small smile curled at the corners of her lips. "Okay."

  He gave her a hard whack on her bottom and walked out of the kitchen.

  Once the small dinette table was set, Gabby helped her mother to a chair and then sat down. She pointed to a seat across from her and invited Ace to sit down.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes.

  "So, what do you do, Mr. Texan? Are you an oil guy?"

  He laughed. "No, ma'am. I'm a rancher mostly. I'm also a partner in a side business with my brothers and one of my sisters. It's a kind of dude ranch and corporate bondin' program, called Boot Camp Inc."

  Gabby's mother frowned. "Sounds risky."

  Ace used his chopsticks to eat a little more. "Not really, it’s pretty safe compared to some other professions."

  "Do you have a big ranch?"

  "About 250,000 acres, so about middlin' size. Are you familiar with ranchin'?"

  She snorted and food dropped off her fork. "No. What's your interest in Gabby?"

  "Ace, don't answer that!" Gabby pointed her chopsticks at him. "I mean it, don't answer."

  He arched an eyebrow at her. She was upset at her mother's inquisition, that was obvious enough, but he didn't like her telling him what to do.

  "Hush, Gabby," her mother told her, then turned back to Ace. "I asked you a question."

  Ace answered truthfully. "Gabby’s a sweet woman with a sense of humor. We get along."

  The woman's eyes narrowed. "You're too old for her."

  "I think that's for her to decide."

  "She's too young to be realistic about that kind of thing."

  "Hey! Ace, you're making matters worse. Knock it off. Mama, I know you mean well, but I wish you'd eat and stop giving Ace the third degree." She pushed food around on her plate. "You act like I've got no say in this."

  Irritation swept over Ace again. "Of course you do," he told her. He realized he'd been talking about her like she wasn't there, but as long as she was going to be so bratty, he was damned if he was going to apologize for it.

  She nodded at him and turned toward her mother. "I don't want to go over this again, Mama. Leave it be. Ace is only here for a few days anyway."

  "Hmph." Anita's gaze shifted to Ace. "Take what you want and leave us to clean up the mess, huh?"

  "Mama!"

  Ace sat back in his chair and met the woman's eyes. "There won't be a mess."

  "Look, Mister," Anita started. "You piss me off. My daughter doesn't need a boyfriend who lives a thousand miles away."

  Gabby groaned. "Damn it! Both of you, shut up!"

  Ace had had enough from Gabby, but had to give Anita credit. She'd hit the nail on the head. Gabby and he were from different parts of the country, different worlds, in fact. He would be in New Jersey for another couple of days, but soon enough he'd be back in Texas, leaving Gabby behind. While he had no intention of leaving her broken hearted or in trouble, he'd be leaving nonetheless.

  He wasn't about to take anymore of Gabby's sass, though. "You're skatin' on thin ice, li'l girl," he warned her.

  "Can we please change the subject?" Gabby asked, looking from Ace to her mother and back again.

  Ace nodded. He'd deal with Gabby later. She was fidgety with discomfort. More than that, he didn't know what to say in the face of Anita's animosity and, in some ways, annoying common sense.

  Gabby's cat began meowing from nearby, and she hurried back into the kitchen to feed him. When she came out, Ace saw an opportunity for a lighter conversation.

  "Did you teach him to do the tricks I saw yesterday?"

  Gabby nodded. "Yeah. He's a smart cat."

  "He sure is. But I'm thinkin' maybe he's got a smart owner, too. I've never seen a cat do tricks like that before."

  "Well, I—"

  "Gabby teaches all her pets tricks. Animals like her. She taught Mr. Rosenbaum's dog to roll over and fetch the old man's slippers. Rosenbaum paid her a few dollars to teach him how to heel and come when called, too."

  Gabby was pink-cheeked, and Ace thought about his own dog and how much effort and patience it had taken to teach the energetic border collie to be civilized. Gabby's talents seemed formidable. "Have you considered sellin' some animal trainer services?"

  "Oh, gosh, no. I'm not doing anything special. Animals are fun to work with
."

  "Hmm." Ace saw Anita wince and put down her utensils. Gabby didn't miss it.

  "Mama? Are you okay?"

  "I think it's time for some more medication, Gabby. Help me over to my chair."

  Immediately, the young woman stood.

  Gabby crooked an arm toward her mother, and Ace stood up and offered his stronger one. "Let me help you, ma'am." He nodded at Gabby. "Finish your dinner, sweetheart."

  "But—"

  "Mind."

  She frowned, but resumed her seat.

  Anita gave him a strange look, but took his arm and allowed him to help her into her chair.

  When he came back to the dinette, Gabby was in the kitchen doling out pills into an empty shot glass. "Are you done with dinner?"

  She nodded and took the pills and water to her mother.

  Ace cleared the table and was rolling up his sleeves to do dishes when Gabby returned. They wrangled for a few minutes over his helping, but Ace won the argument and wielded the drying towel. Once again, she'd talked back to him. Her infractions kept piling up. It was self-destructive of her, and showed that her self-control needed adjusting.

  "Your mama seems bad off, li'l girl. She needs professional care. Have you thought about a nurse or a convalescent home?"

  "I can't stick my mother in a home, but I am looking into getting an aide. Even if it's only for during the day while I'm at work."

  That seemed sensible to him, but he remembered Anita's bill collector comment and considered the clean but modest way they were living. "Do you have insurance to pay for it?"

  Gabby shook her head. "I have to work a little harder, that's all."

  "Take more jobs?"

  She kept her eyes on the sink full of plates. "Right."

  "Why haven't you done that before now?"

  "It hasn't always been an issue."

  "I see." He put a dry dish down and turned her face toward his. "Let me help you."

  "They're just dishes, Ace."

  She was being dense on purpose. "You know what I mean. I can help with the cost."

  Gabby pulled her chin out of his hand and went back to washing. "No."

  "Why not? I can afford it. I wouldn't mind."

  "No. I can do this. I have a plan."