by Dawn Tomasko
"I understand. No pressure.” Gabriel waited patiently for a few minutes. “So now you're on hiatus."
A few deep, calming breaths didn't help her jangled nerves so she tipped up her wineglass and drained it. "You could say so, and it may be a permanent one."
Pleasure flashed in his eyes. The candle flame flickered, its light cast his skin a golden bronze. "The arrangement with Charlotte and the cottage is a sweet one."
Thank God he'd left the subject alone. If she could keep talking, maybe her mind and body could find calm. "I'm grateful to her. My life here is a brand new start for me, Gabriel. At the same time, there are so many conflicting emotions. Memories, difficulties to work through,” she said, almost to herself. She ran the flat of her palm over the smooth white tablecloth.
Dinner arrived as a welcome diversion.
Steaming red lobsters lay on large white trays. The waitress set down two porcelain cups of melted butter in metal frames. Beneath them, tea lights kept the butter warm. They grabbed the lobster crackers and got down to business. When Sara grasped her lobster to break the tail from the body, liquid squirted across the table onto Gabriel's arm.
After a brief struggle not to laugh, she failed. "Sorry. Good thing you rolled up your sleeves."
"No problem,” he chuckled when she reached over to wipe his arm with her napkin. "You're beautiful when you smile. Your whole face lights up."
At his curious stare, she tilted her head to the side, studying him. "Thank you. You laugh and smile easily.”
"Yeah,” he agreed, surprise in his voice. "Life's good. Lobster is one of my favorites. I'm enjoying dinner on a beautiful island with a gorgeous woman on a spring night on the edge of summer.” He spoke slowly, his voice honey smooth. "What more could I want?"
Indeed. Eyes on her lobster, she picked out a clump of claw meat and swallowed hard. If only he wasn’t so damned hot, if she didn’t feel such an inexorable need to gravitate to him. "Earlier today we wanted to kill each other."
"You might have wanted to kill me,” Gabriel shook his head at her choice of words. "But I didn't want to kill you. We're getting acquainted."
"Is that what we’re doing?” she intoned dryly but softened it with a small smile.
"Yeah.” Gabriel speared a piece of lobster meat, dipped it in hot, silky butter and put it into his mouth. Butter glistened on his lower lip. When his tongue flicked out to catch the shiny gold liquid, she bit her bottom lip. He chewed, and one corner tilted up. "Come on, admit it. You enjoy being around me, as much as I do with you. It's a good time."
"Verbal sparring matches, slammed doors, broken picture frames and sledgehammers are your ideas of fun?"
A sharp bark of laughter escaped him. With a delighted grin, he reached over and squeezed her fingers. "Yeah, I do, even more because all of it involves you. There's something there, Sara.” Her name came softly from his lips, a silky caress. He lifted her hand and pressed his mouth to her skin in a hot kiss. At the feel of the moist heat on her skin, her breath fractured.
His dark eyes glittered. The air between them crackled. Gabriel's voice, manner and body language held a seductive quality, magnetic. Be careful, Sara.
The spell broke when the waitress came to remove their platters. When he chatted with her about the possibility of coffee and dessert, Sara watched him and tried to catch her breath. Gabriel took life with casual grace. In spite of life's difficulties, he rose above them. He still found it in himself to be lighthearted and poke fun at himself, and her.
Those ways were different from hers. Far too serious for her own good, she'd always been this way. At the core of her reason for being here, she contemplated the release from the prison of her thoughts. Could she be more joyful, more easygoing, in the way of Gabriel, Charlotte, and Gary? She counted her blessings. But what came easier for some remained elusive to her, always just out of reach.
Gabriel's qualities were all she'd ever dreamed of in a man, a companion, a lover. Intelligence, intuition, humor and a good heart. An innate sensuality. Then there was the matter of his looks. Why did he have to be so damned sexy? How many women lurked in his past? Did she want to become one more name in a long list? Most people in Fairfield County, indeed the country, knew about the Donovan's, the two brothers and their escapades with women. The younger brother, Michael, even more so. To be fair, some of it could be gossip, but how much was fact?
Why did he make her want so much? If she got too close, let him in, she could lose her ability to maintain independence, distance, her focus. Still, she ached for intimacy, laughter, the touch of his warm, calloused hands on her skin. The heat.
Exactly the type of relationship she ran from her entire life.
"Great meal,” he rubbed a hand over his muscled stomach. "I may not eat for a week. Thanks for choosing this place."
"You're welcome,” she managed past the lump in her throat. Anyone else would jump all over this man. Gabriel Donovan was the total package. But oh no, not her. Not a woman who kept herself under tight reign out of self-preservation. His words and ways kept her off balance, and she struggled to regain it.
"It's a relaxing place with good food. So, tour guide, what's next?” he laid a warm hand over hers. Pain squeezed her heart, and her gaze jerked up to his.
Warning bells sounded in her head. She couldn't do this. She could not do a new relationship, especially not with Gabriel. They could both end up hurt, badly. The long history of women in his life daunted her. She had no experience with a man like him. He continually worked to get under the outer layers David never bothered learning. Her craving for independence wouldn’t mix with a deeper connection. This strong pull would only lead to one place, and the thought jolted her. Sara wanted to wrap herself around him, into him. Her entire being seethed with desire, anticipation, and painful frustration.
Gabriel wants more than I can give, more than I have in my heart. If I give in, I'll lose myself. Gabriel represented danger. Inside her head, the jumble of thought and emotion swirled. Past, present, future, all collided inside her.
The tight constriction of her chest reared its ugly head, and she rubbed a hand over her breastbone. Eyes centered on her wineglass, she struggled for calm. Gabriel spoke, but she barely heard what he said over the rushing in her ears.
Here it came again, the hated loss of control, similar to the aura heralding a migraine. Tossed by a tide of emotion, the wave nearly took her under. When Gabriel squeezed her fingers lightly, Sara jerked in her seat. "Easy, Sara, go easy. Are you okay?"
She sucked air in quick bursts. David, Brianna, and Gabriel crashed in, battered, set her in a tailspin. “No, no.”
"Sara,” he urged in a low voice. He slid his chair next to hers, and she looked at him, nearly lost in the depths of indigo eyes. Through the gather of hot tears, his image blurred.
"Do you need to get out of here?"
She nodded. The bill hadn't come, but he flipped open his wallet, laid down a stack of bills and took her hand, placed her shaky fingers in his warm ones. They walked down the sidewalk back toward Town. Take your hand away, she told herself, but couldn't. His warmth and strength steadied like nothing ever had as they moved down toward the docks.
Benches lined the sidewalk under a group of trees close to the water. "Why don’t we sit here awhile?"
With a quick shake of her head, she kept walking toward the truck. "Please,” she whispered. “Take me home."
Right up to the end of their meal, Gabriel enjoyed their evening together immensely. Sara got to him on so many levels. On the surface, her face and body stunned him. But what he found under the beauty grabbed him hard.
But when he got her to open up about her life, his protective nature kicked in big time. Something lurked in her eyes, and the more they talked, the more her fight or flight response ramped up. What happened? Would she trust him enough to share it?
This time, she stood with patience while he opened the truck door. Sara slid in and buckled the seatbelt. Once he settl
ed in and turned the ignition, he glanced over.
"My purse,” she whispered.
"Right here,” he offered in a low tone and placed it on her lap. "Do you need something?”
Sara clutched the bag tight. When Charlotte said Sara had a lot to deal with right now, the woman wasn't kidding. Seeming torn, Sara bit her lip. Unshed tears swam in her eyes, made them glitter like amethysts.
"No. I'm all right."
Like hell. It sounded like she couldn’t catch her breath. "Sara, look at me.” The shimmer of those jewel-like eyes, full of heartbreak and panic nearly undid him.
"Whatever it is, I want to help you.” If she let him, he'd wrap her up close, hold her until the ghosts left her in peace. But if he did, he knew she would balk. Eyes closed, her tears spilled over.
Leaning an elbow on the center console, Gabriel stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. "It's okay to take help when someone offers. Life is easier that way. You don't need to go it alone."
"But that's how I'm used to doing things."
Yeah, he figured that out for himself already. Talking to her in a low voice, he watched Sara struggle to tamp down the emotions. Finally, calm settled over her, but dark circles rimmed her eyes, and her skin showed translucence he hadn't seen before. In sharp contrast to the strength he knew she possessed, she suddenly seemed fragile and exhausted.
"Let's get you home."
Chapter Eight
"Human contact,” Sara said to Charlotte yet again, as they talked about the previous evening's events. "That's all it was.” With her phone on speaker on the kitchen counter, she scrubbed the cabinet fronts to prepare them for paint. "I feel foolish, losing it like that in front of him. I’m embarrassed."
"You've got a lot on your plate right now, Sara. Cut yourself some slack.” Charlotte's voice cut in and out, a sign of the poor Wi-Fi signal. Madaket faced the Atlantic, and the house sat on the farthest reaches of the island. She'd have to ask Gabe if they could do something about it. "It does not surprise me the emotions you keep at bay so efficiently would rise to the surface if he got you talking it out. Of course, you'd react."
She dipped the rag in hot, soapy water and wrung it out. "It's just that I've been on my own for so long, and Gabriel happened to be there. David and I lived together until recently, but you know it's been over between us a long time.” With the bright morning light came acute shame and waves of guilt for exposing herself in such a way. “What must he think of me?”
“Exactly what Gary and I think. You’re a smart, capable, compassionate woman, who like everyone else, carries a bit of excess baggage. But bottom line, it’s what you think that matters most.”
The touch of his hand, his kindness, the soothing quality of his voice moved and comforted her. Sometimes she would sense David trying to reach the deeper places in her heart, but she held him at arm's length. Having learned the hard way, she relied on her strength, depended on herself. Gabriel's larger than life quality, his humor, and solidity wouldn’t take much effort to fall for. But such a relationship was never in her game plan. So why do I want it now?
Cheeks hot, she recalled the storm of emotion at the restaurant, the thick throb of her pulse, the pressure in her chest. It pissed her off. A healthy woman shouldn't fight anxiety. For years, she managed on her own without a man around. Sara took out the garbage, cleaned the house, did the laundry, paid bills, food shopped, worked, attended PTA meetings, changed flat tires, relit the pilot on her furnace and did minor plumbing repairs. How could she be described? As a strong, capable and independent woman, and determined to stay that way.
But last night she'd lost it. Gabriel managed to talk her off the ledge, figuratively speaking. "Charlotte, I got so close to a full blown anxiety attack, and nearly grabbed the bottle of pills in my bag before I stopped myself.”
"There's nothing wrong with anxiety medication. I took it for a while after my Mom passed away, remember? Did you judge me?"
"No, but David judged me for it. He called me crazy,” she ended in a whisper. "I guess unfairly, I expected it from Gabriel.” Gabriel didn't seem to think her crazy, and he hadn't run. Unlike David, he didn't hurl criticisms at her. Rather, provided a safe place when the man didn't even know her well enough to be one. Something loosened inside her at the memory of his gentle words, calm voice and warm hand as he gripped her cold one.
"But that's not Gabe. He's one of the good ones, honey."
"Hmm,” she murmured uncertainly and scrubbed at a particularly grungy spot along the bottom of a cabinet. After she had sunk back on her knees, she sighed, satisfied. The cabinets looked good. "Thanks for listening."
"Anytime, you know that. What are you doing today?"
"I'm done cleaning the cabinets, and I'm headed out to Bartlett's for garden supplies."
"Maybe I'll pop in."
“Please come, I’d love it. I should be back in a couple of hours.” After they hung up, Sara stood and dumped the dirty water down the sink. Rinsing the wash bucket, she stared blindly out the window to the backyard.
One of the good ones. Besides a stellar character, she couldn’t discount lust, pure animal attraction. Forbidden, a beautiful fire you wanted to touch. If she reached out, would she get burned? They clashed, argued, slammed doors, and baited one another. Now he showed a tender side. For someone who liked to know what to expect at all times, Sara could admit with Gabriel, she found excitement in the unexpected.
When his dark eyes traveled over her, she knew it, sensed it. Each time she watched him, his dark head turned her way. His sexy indigo eyes seemed to drink her in, memorize the details of her. Acute awareness buzzed between them, and her body recognized early on what her mind finally acknowledged.
Gabriel Donovan wanted her, and damn it all, she wanted him.
On her way back from the farm, car fully loaded with her purchases, a text from Gabriel came through. Hey, Sara. Can't make it today. Have to give quotes to potential clients, and then do a short project.
Sara squeezed her eyes shut. After parking the car next to the house, Sara killed the engine, dropping her head on the steering wheel. Gabriel planned to come to work at the cottage today. Now he had a ton of other work to do? Then she replied.
No problem.
See you tomorrow?
Sure. Thanks for dinner last night, she texted back. What else could she say after her behavior?
My pleasure.
She hoped so. Did he need to do other things today or had she scared him off and disgraced herself in the process? Wondering what a man thought of her differed from her usual way of life. Routine, constancy and repetition kept her grounded.
But after her marriage completed its downward spiral and her relationship with her daughter went on the skids she needed change, in a big way. Life had become too predictable, as had she, and when it all came down to it, what was the value in that?
Done with second guessing herself, she shook her head. Time to redirect and let it all go. She opened the gate on her car. Two bright blue rectangular planters for herbs would go on the back porch railing. They would get the sun and be close to the kitchen. Of course, the yard would be a monumental task, but one she looked forward to. She found it cleansing. For now, she wanted to bring color to the place.
Several pots of different sizes and colors would brighten both porches. She pulled flats of annuals and several bags of potting soil out of the car. Neglecting to check what the shed held for gardening tools, she'd bought a set of floral gloves, a full sized shovel, a hand shovel and hand rake.
Energized to do what she loved best and shove away her thoughts, she dug in and lost herself in work.
Later she sat on the back porch to appreciate her efforts. A glass of freshly squeezed lemonade sat on the railing. A car door slammed, and a moment later, Charlotte came around the side of the house.
"Well, look at you!” she grinned, hands on her hips. "Nice work."
"I hoped you'd stop by. You should see the pickings at the fa
rm. Come with me next time. They have tons of beautiful flowers.” Sara smiled and pointed to twin green planters at either side of the bottom step. "Gerbera daisies there with Ivy trailers and in this big pot blue lobelia, red dianthus, and dusty miller for the front porch, once it's finished. Red, white and blue for Memorial Day."
"You've brightened the place already. All the weeds around the house are gone, and you've used the lawn mower. It does my heart good to see the old place spruced up. Will you come over to my house and set me up, too?"
The idea delighted her. "Are you kidding? I'd love to!"
Charlotte climbed the steps and leaned against the railing. "My back yard consists of the deck, patio furniture, Gary's monster grill and dog hair.” She held up a thumb. "No green here. Help!"
"You don't need me. Look at you. Your hair's gorgeous, and you always look put together. The skirt alone is enough to build an outfit around,” Sara marveled at the broomstick skirt Charlotte wore with its threads of brilliant color. The tank top, cream colored cotton embroidered at the neckline, complemented the skirt perfectly. "Not to mention the great jewelry.”
She waved her hand dismissively. "Those, my friend, are two different things entirely.” Charlotte tilted her head to the side. “I want to hire you to do my yard."
“Oh!” Sara threw her arms around Charlotte. "I'll do it, but not for money."
"Nonsense, you don't have an income at the moment. If you don't do it for profit, I'll hire someone else and pay them,” she warned. "Then you'll be jealous because you didn't get to work on my yard and both of us know it won't be as nice. You'll have to look at it every time I have you over, and it will drive you crazy. We'll work out the details later. I came by to check on you. When we hung up earlier, I worried, but I see it's all good. You're happy."
Sara pulled back with a wide grin. In spite of the previous night's events, it was true. "Now I am. Gabriel and my new life are separate issues. His presence, while necessary, will be short term, which is all for the best."