by Jody Holford
“Don’t be sorry. It’s the holidays. We made breakfast, though, and it’s ready.”
“I could smell it in my sleep,” she said, trying for a smile.
He tapped the tip of her nose with his index finger. “No surprise there. If you were a princess in a fairy tale, it wouldn’t be true love’s kiss that would wake you, it’d be the scent of your favorite foods.”
Gabby laughed even though her heart pinched painfully. “A combination of the two would make the best fairy tale.”
She’d meant it as a joke, but Owen looked at her like she’d grown an extra head or something. And then slowly, like she was still dreaming, he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers, so soft and quick it was like it never happened. When he pulled back, he gave her a crooked grin.
“Time to get up, Princess Gabby.”
She couldn’t speak. He didn’t seem to notice. He rose from the bed and pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. Frowning down at it, he muttered, “Huh.”
Gabby sat up. “What is it?”
Owen glanced up as he texted. “Brady says they’re having a quick meeting down in the lobby in about thirty minutes.”
“A meeting for what?”
“Don’t know. Better get up, though. We’ll eat and go down. I’ll tell him you’re with me, okay?”
She nodded and he left, texting as he went. So much for being a princess. Throwing back the covers, she got out of bed, righted the blankets, and changed into something presentable. She’d have to shower later since clearly, she had several other things on today’s agenda.
Gabby ended up sneaking in an express shower after breakfast. She told Owen she’d meet him downstairs. When she left his apartment, his family was sitting around his table, planning out their “Family Day of Festive Fun.” Beth had actually put that as a title.
The lobby was crowded and noisy. It wasn’t a huge building, but when all the tenants gathered together, it seemed like it. People were talking and a few called out a hello. Gabby waved, then saw Owen near Mr. Bramby, the man who’d lived here longer than any of them. The older man was wearing his go-to charcoal gray jogging suit, which was quirky enough. Add in the fedora he never left home without and he was very interesting to look at. One day, Gabby wanted to paint him, or at least his hat.
Owen waved and made his way through the crowd. Gabby was hearing snippets of conversation, but couldn’t really follow any of them.
“Hey, babe, there you are,” Owen said. She froze for a second, wondering if he was staying in character or had just forgotten himself. Before she could think too much about it, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, very near her lips. If she’d turned her head just a little, their mouths would have met. Had he called her endearing terms before they’d become faux boyfriend and girlfriend? It felt so right she thought maybe he did, but why hadn’t she noticed? You’d have noticed. The sound of sweetie or babe coming from his lips made her stomach do a delicious dip. Don’t get used to it.
Gabby rolled her shoulders as she surveyed the crowd. “So? What’s going on?”
She spotted Mr. Grumpy—aka Wyatt—leaning one shoulder against the far wall. His arms were crossed over his chest and his ever-present frown was plastered on his face. Owen once said he thought he was a mob hitman. Brady dared him to ask. But now that she’d spoken to him, despite his intimidating glower and impressive height, he didn’t seem like a mob boss or hitman to Gabby. Not that she had any experience with that kind of thing, but she had gut instinct. Wyatt’s eyes surveyed the crowd and landed on Gabby. He arched an eyebrow and she smiled and waved. She nearly laughed when he shook his head. If she wasn’t mistaken, he may even have rolled his eyes.
“Maybe I’ll tell you what’s going on when you finish flirting with the mobster,” Owen hissed. His breath warmed her ear and she leaned in a little closer.
Tilting her head, she asked, “What are you talking about?”
Owen looked across the room then back at Gabby. His eyes were heated—dark. Intense, like he actually felt…jealous? That couldn’t be right. But his hand came around Gabby’s waist in a possessive hold. More pretending? Why did pretend feel so good? She was aware of each individual fingertip sinking into her skin.
Owen squeezed gently. “I’m talking about you and Mr. Mean over there making eyes at each other.”
Gabby laughed and looked up to meet Owen’s eyes. Was he serious? Frustration prickled over her skin. His family wasn’t around to fall for their act, so why did he have to push it every minute?
“Oh, please. Would you stop? I really don’t think he’s connected. And, his name is Wyatt.” Because she felt inexplicably irritated, she waved again, but Wyatt’s expression didn’t change.
Owen grabbed her arm and pulled it to her side. “We don’t know anything about him.”
“You do a really good impression of a jealous boyfriend, O. Please don’t pretend to break up with me. I promise I’ll stop not-flirting with the non-mobster if you’ll just—”
Her words were cut off by Owen’s lips smashing against hers with a quiet demand that had her pressing into him. Maybe melting was a better word, because she felt like she was absorbing right into his own body. His hand on her waist clenched, tightening as his mouth slanted across hers. He stole her breath, literally. But she was happy to give it up if it meant getting to kiss him. Good lord. Where does a self-professed shy geek learn to kiss like this? Just when she’d have liked to wrap both arms around him, and maybe even her legs, he pulled back.
Breathing heavily, he kept his forehead on hers. “Not everything is pretend, Gabby. Some things are serious.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but didn’t get a chance to ask. Brady wandered over and clapped them both on their backs. “There’s my favorite couple,” he said.
Tall, with dark blond hair he kept fairly short, Brady was good looking and charming. He had a great smile and happy eyes. Everyone liked Brady because he liked everyone. His words made her choke. She looked at Owen, then back at Brady. They didn’t have that many friends in common, but it never occurred to her to say something to Brady.
Owen gave Brady a small shove. “Don’t be an ass. Don’t worry, Gabs. I told him what’s going on.”
Something stronger than irritation bubbled in her chest. Great. Though she’d rather he knew the truth so it was one less person they were lying to. Brady grinned, crossing his muscular arms across his chest. “He sure did. One of my mechanics is having a get-together tonight. I could use a gorgeous woman on my arm. Want to pretend with me, too?”
Owen’s eyes darkened, but it smoothed Gabby’s temper and she smirked, pretending to consider it.
It was petty, but she liked the thought of Owen being jealous. “Will there be food?”
Brady gave a wide, self-assured grin. “I’m pretty sure. If not, I promise to feed you.”
Owen linked their hands. Gabby wondered why Brady’s fun flirting didn’t make her tummy flutter the way Owen holding her hand did.
He squeezed her fingers. “Very funny, you two. You can knock it off any time now.”
Brady clapped Owen on the back. “Come to think of it, I’m considering taking a beach vacation and I could use someone to rub lotion on my back. Any chance you’re free?”
While Gabby laughed, Owen scowled and said, “My two closest friends are now a comedy duo. Lucky me. Feel free to shut it down any time.” He looked at Gabby and she tried to muffle her laughter. “You, too.”
Brady chuckled, clapped Owen on the back, and winked at Gabby. “Possessive, isn’t he?”
Before Gabby could think much about that, Jake stood on a chair and cupped his hands over his mouth.
“Okay, listen up, everyone. Guys, shut the hell up,” His white T-shirt was dirty and his jeans hung too low on his hips. Wyatt watched him like an animal stalking its prey. Hmm. Maybe not a mobster, but clearly not a Jake fan.
Brady’s frown now matched Owen’s. He glared at Jake from afar. “I hate th
at guy,” Brady said.
“Because he’s a lowlife?” Owen asked. Brady nodded and held out his fist, in sync with his friend again. Owen smirked and bumped fists with him.
The crowd quieted and Jake continued. “I talked to the owner. The cops have done whatever it is they do. The owner will file an insurance claim. I need each of you to write down what you know about what happened and if anything of yours is missing. Then I need you to sign those write-ups and get them in to me by tomorrow. The owner, Mr. Kendrick, said officers would be coming to collect the statements.” Questions erupted and Jake yelled for people to be quiet but he’d lost his command of the crowd.
Gabby’s pulse scrambled. Wait. What? She thought this was a tenants meeting, like she’d suggested. Gripping Owen’s arm, she tugged him closer. “The cops? What’s he talking about? What’s going on?”
Owen’s eyebrows furrowed like they did sometimes when he couldn’t figure something out. “Sorry. I forgot to say when you got down here. Our storage room was trashed. Someone has been inside every box and a lot of stuff got broken or at least damaged. Not only that, a few neighbors say some of their things are missing entirely.”
Gabby’s mouth dropped open. The residents began murmuring, with some calling out questions. Unease spread like a virus, washing over Gabby.
“We’ve been robbed? By someone who lives here?” Her thoughts whipped back to the mailboxes. She’d forgotten all about them.
Owen’s arm went around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Looks like it. The police were pulling away when I got here. Not sure who called.”
“Mrs. Haverman. She went to get her cat carrier and found boxes opened, stuff everywhere,” Brady said.
Owen shook his head, concern etched on his face. “It feels weird to think a neighbor would do this. Just goes to show you, living in the same place doesn’t mean you know someone. You think you do because of the proximity but really, everyone here is a stranger with an untold truth.”
Gabby looked up at him, knowing he was correct—even more so than he could imagine. But she didn’t want to think like that, so she took his hand and squeezed it. No matter what the distance or what she held back, she and Owen weren’t strangers. He didn’t know everything in her heart, nor did he need to. But at least they knew, with absolute certainty, they could trust each other. The same couldn’t be said for most of the other faces around them.
“Owen,” she said, tugging on his arm. “The mailboxes.”
Some of the neighbors were shouting questions to Jake and his eye rolls and sighs made it clear he didn’t want to be bothered with them.
Brady looked at Gabby, his tone worrying her. “What about the mailboxes?”
Surely someone else had seen them. “They’ve been tampered with.” She looked at Owen. “I meant to say something yesterday, but your family showed up and I forgot.”
“Shit,” Brady said. “I’ll go take a look. I saw one of the officers give Jake a card. I’ll call and update them on that.”
When he walked through the small group of people, toward the mailboxes, Gabby turned back to Owen. “This is crazy. Why would anyone do this?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you have anything down there that needs to be moved? Anything valuable?”
Gabby had learned, in a devastating way, what was valuable in life. She pressed herself against Owen’s body, grateful for the easy way he pulled her closer. “No.” Everything of value in her life, other than her art, was right here, in her grasp. She held tighter, scared to let him go. When his hands soothed over her back, she focused on the fact that, at least for now, she didn’t have to.
Chapter Ten
“Maybe you two ought to consider another building,” Beth suggested, as they all climbed into the rental Owen had arranged through Brady. His truck sat five if three people squeezed into the back seat. Brady owned his own auto shop and had connections, which made the outing with everyone a lot easier. Really didn’t think some of these things through. He’d been so focused on his lie and getting Gabby to agree, he hadn’t thought ahead about some of the logistics.
“Are you considering it now?” Beth asked from the backseat as Owen pulled onto the street. Gabby laughed from the passenger seat beside him.
“Mom, it’s a great building. Gabby and I both love it there. This is some anomaly that’s been blown out of proportion,” Owen said.
His mom lowered her voice, which was completely pointless. “You can’t keep an eye on her all the time, Owen. I mean, she’s still keeping her own apartment.”
Now everyone else joined in on the laughter. Owen’s thoughts stuttered. “We, uh, like the space. But it’s temporary.” Please don’t ask which part. He didn’t like lying to his family—he didn’t want to. Gabby shot him a side-glance, like she was inside his brain. He thought of just telling his family the truth now; this minute. But he didn’t know what the truth was. He’d started this, obviously not thinking the finer details through and now, his heart and his mind were like tilt-a-whirls.
Was there any chance he and Gabby could be the real thing? He didn’t want to freak her out by asking while his family was there. This morning, when he’d awoken beside her, a sense of rightness had filled his entire body. It wasn’t just the sexual awareness—though that was an eye-opener too—he’d never be able to go back to seeing her as just Gabby now that he realized how much sensuality she exuded without even trying. No, it was more. He’d wanted to pull her tight against him this morning and kiss her awake. He’d settled for putting his hand on her hip, a torture in itself. Then he’d left the bed, trying to shake off the thoughts in the shower. Turned out thinking about Gabby in his shower was not the best plan for getting her out of his head.
“Owen,” Gabby hissed.
He was completely freaking himself out. “Sorry. Mom. Everything is fine. It’s good. Mall first and then skating?”
“Are we eating lunch at the mall?” Ophelia asked. Owen could see her in the rearview mirror, sitting next to Aunt Patty. She smiled at him. Gabby turned and looked at his sister.
“See, that’s what we should be thinking about, not the building,” Gabby said playfully.
“I love a girl who can eat,” Leo said.
Owen couldn’t disagree, though he hadn’t given it much thought before now. “Mall, it is,” he said, flipping the signal and changing lanes.
Owen finished up his chow mein, which was surprisingly good for mall food. He was just starting to relax and feel like maybe his mom’s family-festive-whatever day was not such a bad idea. She’d run to the washroom with Aunt Patty. His dad was checking out smart phones at one of the booths. He and Gabby and Ophelia were chatting about theater—specifically, Owen’s dislike of being in the limelight.
“He’s actually pretty good on stage,” Ophelia said, biting on the end of her straw.
Owen scoffed. “One show. Fifth grade. I played a turkey in a Thanksgiving play. I have no idea how you’re even counting that and have a sneaking suspicion you only brought it up to embarrass me.”
Gabby laughed and popped another fry in her mouth. “A turkey? I can picture that.”
He scowled at her, but really, he was loving the fact that his sister and his girl—whoa, what the hell? His best friend and his sister were getting along so well. He sat up, wishing he’d worn just a T-shirt instead of a sweater. It was hot as hell in the food court.
“Funny,” Owen said.
“Seriously, though, he’s read with me more than once when I needed help. He’s a good actor.”
Owen’s breath froze in his lungs. Gabby’s lips firmed into a line and she nodded. With her head down, like her French fries were the most interesting things ever, she mumbled her words. “Oddly enough, I can picture that, too.”
He reached out and put his hand over hers, his heart splitting at the tone of her voice. He’d never hurt her on purpose. Had something about this hurt her? He couldn’t say anything, and his mother picked that moment to come rushing
back with his aunt.
“Let’s go. Clean up. I have a surprise,” Beth said.
Patty chuckled, her cheeks rosy, not so pale today. “Boy, do you.”
Owen glanced up, narrowing his eyes at his mom. “What kind of surprise?”
Ophelia stood, laughing at him as she started gathering their trays. “Probably the surprise kind. Just go with it.”
When Owen looked at Gabby, she shrugged and began helping his sister. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Tidying their spot, which was scooped the second they walked away from the table, they followed his mother and aunt, found his dad along the way and headed toward the center of the mall. Their bags and jackets hung from their arms as they weaved in and out of the slew of shoppers. Had no one shopped early?
They stopped at Santa’s Village. No. Please, no.
His mother turned, like she was ten instead of in her sixties, clapped her hands together, and squealed. Squealed. Jesus. Owen ducked his head because people were actually looking at them.
“What do you have there, Beth?” Leo asked. He took the white ticket she was holding. “Well, we haven’t done this in a while, kids.” His dad was beaming because he apparently had no issue with his wife’s goofiness.
Owen knew even before his mom spoke. “We’re getting our picture with Santa,” his mom said. “I’ve already paid, so we get to skip the line.”
Gabby and Ophelia laughed and really, all he could do was shake his head. Gabby grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I haven’t sat on Santa’s lap since I was in elementary school.” There was nothing that could have brought out his own genuine enthusiasm more than the smile on her face or the excited tone of her voice. A tender ache settled just below his heart, making his rib cage feel too tight. Too small.
He took her hand, twined their fingers, letting himself absorb the knowledge, the truth, that his feelings for Gabriella, whatever they had been, had definitely crossed a line. Going with instinct, as he had that morning, or more, with need, he cupped her cheek in his palm and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Then let’s go,” he said.