by JM Stewart
But the truth was, the endless flings she’d once delighted in had worn thin. Deep down she wasn’t a single kind of girl. Watching the men leave at the end of the night and then waking alone every morning only served to make her feel exactly that—alone.
It was time to get back out there. Time to risk putting her heart on the line.
Steph turned to scan the area around her again. Even though it was April in the Pacific Northwest, the night was gorgeous. Not quite sixty, with lovely cool breezes and a clear sky, a few stars peeking out from behind the clouds. They usually didn’t see days like this until nearly July. Any other time, she’d have put on her Nikes and gone for a run, simply for an excuse to enjoy the break from the ceaseless rain. Apparently, she wasn’t alone in that sentiment. A half dozen or so people littered the area.
Her date could be any one of them. Not that she’d recognize him if she saw him. All the woman from Military Match had told her was that he was “huge,” had dark hair, and would be wearing something blue. She was told to meet him by the beach, here at Chism Park.
Restless with the need to move, she surged to her feet and turned in a slow circle. Halfway around, a sight stopped her cold. Some twenty feet or so down the sidewalk, a huge hulk of a man stood doing exactly what she was. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he looked around, as if he were waiting for someone.
The sheer size of him, along with the width of his strong shoulders and the dark hair licking at the collar of his black leather jacket sent her stomach into overdrive. The ache of familiarity flooded her veins, her heart beating as if it were trying to escape her chest.
Gabe.
Of all the people to run into, and tonight of all nights. God, he looked exactly the same as he had the last time she’d seen him. Had it really been eleven years? He stood six foot six inches of intimidating, delicious man. She knew from experience every inch of him was solid and every muscle rippled when he moved. Even now his well-fitting jeans clung to his tight ass and showcased the power in his strong thighs.
His hair curled over his forehead, the ends whipping in the slight breeze. Her fingers itched with remembrance. How many times had she brushed those soft curls out of his eyes?
Back in her undergrad days, those big hands and that muscular body had given her so much pleasure. Of all her lovers over the years, he was the one she couldn’t forget. He’d been one of the few to truly rock her world. The energy they’d worked up in each other could easily have powered a small city. Eleven years ago she and Gabe had fallen into a “friends-with-benefits” relationship. They’d hung out, discussing classes and dick professors while sharing cartons of Chinese as often as they’d fucked.
He’d also been one of the few to manage the feat of capturing her heart. Her one and only foray into how to do everything wrong. She’d fallen in love with her best friend. But back then Gabe had been focused on his career. He’d always given her the impression that their relationship was nothing more than friendship and casual sex to him. He’d proven it when he’d walked out of her life and never looked back.
That he was standing by the beach—the exact spot where she was supposed to meet her date—looking around him as if he were waiting on someone, made her stomach tighten. Was he tonight’s date? Was it even possible?
The thought made her stomach flip-flop. In delicious anticipation. In nerves. In outright fear. What she wanted was to turn around and go home. Neither could she deny that curiosity had her by the heart. She’d thought of him often over the years, and just seeing him had all those questions roaring to the surface all over again. Where he was and what his life was like. The questions beating the hardest in the back of her mind, though, were of the more dangerous sort. Why he’d simply stopped contacting her and what she’d do if she ever saw him again.
Well, if he was her date tonight, she’d face it head-on, because Steph Mason didn’t run from anything.
She drew her shoulders back, plastered on her best “no care in the world” smile, and sauntered in his direction. “Gabriel Donovan.”
His head snapped in her direction, and familiar hazel eyes settled on her. Oh, she didn’t have to see them to know their color. She’d know those eyes anywhere, because she’d spent years trying not to stare at them. Beautiful and intense, they were a mix of chocolate brown and a deep mossy green. They widened as recognition dawned over him. “Stephanie Mason. I’ll be damned.”
As she came to a stop in front of him, she had to tip her head back to look into his face. He stood a good head above her, and she shivered with the power of that broad body.
“The last time I saw you, you were crawling out of my bed.” She attempted to keep the conversation light, but the truth was, Gabe had gotten a phone call that night that had changed his entire world. His parents had died a tragic, senseless death, literally at the wrong place at the wrong time. A robbery attempt gone wrong had left him suddenly in charge of his teenaged sister. Gabe had dropped out of school a week later and moved home to Oregon to take care of Molly.
“Been a long time, Steph.” He grinned, revealing a dazzling smile that eleven years ago would have taken her breath away. Now it sent more memories flooding through her mind. That smile had drawn her in the first time he’d flashed it at her.
“That it has. Your last letter said you’d joined the military, that they were stationing you in California.” They’d kept in touch for about a year after he’d gone home, but after he’d joined the military she’d stopped hearing from him.
He gave an absentminded nod. “Camp Coronado. It’s where I did my BUD/S training.”
Buds training…Where had she heard that term before? Wait a minute… “You were a SEAL?”
He darted a glance at her. “Mm-hmm. Team three. Moved back here about four years ago.”
She nudged him with an elbow. “Seriously impressive.”
He didn’t say anything, but seemed to draw within himself. His gaze slid off to his right, and awkward tension moved over him. She searched her thoughts for something, anything, to pull him out of what seemed to be heavy thoughts, when her gaze settled on his tie. The sapphire blue stood out against the stark white of his shirt.
Her stomach sank into her stilettos. Damn. That tie meant Gabe was her date.
Well, the only thing to do now was face it. The way she did everything.
She drew a deep breath for courage and tugged on his tie. “Blue.”
His gaze snapped back to her, dropped to his tie, then returned to her again. One corner of his mouth hitched. He nodded in her direction, no doubt indicating the similar color of her shirt. Amusement and recognition glinted in his eyes. “Also blue.”
“That makes you the date I’ve been waiting for.” She couldn’t be sure if she wanted to hug the stuffing out of him or puke on his shoes.
He reached up to rub the back of his neck and glanced around him. “Sorry I’m late. Forgot what part of the park we were supposed to meet at. I swore I wrote it down, but I couldn’t find the damn note.”
She lifted a brow. “Nervous?”
For that one small thing, she was eternally grateful. At least she wasn’t the only one coming out of her skin. She’d been fine with her first real date since her breakup with Alec…right up until she’d realized they’d matched her with Gabe. She hadn’t anticipated the power of being in his presence again, either.
He let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Does it show?”
“Nope. You’re as solid as ever. Don’t feel bad. The thought of this date has had my knees shaking all day.” Aiming for light and upbeat, to not let him know seeing him again had unnerved her, she punched him lightly in the shoulder. “How the hell are you?”
“I’m good.” Gabe laughed, his gaze sweeping the length of her. “You haven’t changed a bit. Still as sexy as ever. The hair’s changed, though. You had a pixie cut last I saw you. Long looks good on you.”
The husky timbre of his voice made her nipples tighten. Whether consciously or otherwise, he rea
ched out and pushed her hair back off her shoulder, his fingers brushing the skin of her neck. A full-out shiver swept the length of her spine, landing straight in her panties. God, she was doomed. One touch from him and her body lit up like a firework on the Fourth of July.
“You’re still the same. Same curls.” She reached up, fingering a lock of hair curling over his collar. “Same crooked smile.”
He had lines around his eyes now that weren’t there eleven years ago, but she had to admit she liked them. They lent his appearance a maturity that looked good on him. As if it were possible for Gabe Donovan to get any sexier.
A ghost of a smile flitted across his mouth, there and gone in the blink of an eye. His mouth formed a thin, grim line, and his jaw tightened.
She frowned, trying to comprehend the sudden tension moving over him. That was the second time in five minutes he’d gotten that look on his face. It was subtle but undeniable. Did he have PTSD like Trent? Was he remembering something?
Before she could ask if he was okay, though, he smiled again, this one tight and forced but polite all the same. “How ’bout we go get some dinner?”
She nodded. “Sounds great.”
She shouldn’t. History reminded her that nothing with Gabe would ever be what she wanted or needed at this point in her life. After all, she’d been little more to him than great sex. The way he’d walked out of her life and not looked back had proven that. He was here, though, and she couldn’t deny that she’d been dying for eleven years to catch up with him.
While she was at it, maybe he’d share what was on his mind, and maybe she’d finally get the answers to all those questions he’d left her with.
Chapter Two
I can’t believe you still ride.” A measure of awe filled her voice as Steph circled his bike.
Standing several feet away, hands stuffed in his pockets, Gabe grunted in acknowledgment. He’d become caught in watching her. When he’d suggested dinner, his intention had been to distract her. Her innocent comment about change had brought up the ugly reminder that at some point he was going to have to talk about his leg. Going into this date, he’d known the subject would have to come up, but having to tell Steph, given everything they’d shared and the way their relationship had ended, only made it harder.
Then they’d come out here to the parking lot. She’d taken one look at his bike and grinned so wide it had nearly split her face in half. God, of all the women Military Match could have paired him with, it had to be her. She was still gorgeous, too. The same flirty smile that made her eyes light up. The same supple curves and firm, tight ass. Her dirty-blond hair fell past her shoulders now, thick and straight, and he itched to sift his hands through it, for the luxury of feeling the soft strands slip through his fingers. He knew every spot on her long, slender neck that made her shiver and every spot on her body that made her moan. Hell, there wasn’t an inch of her his mouth hadn’t skimmed at some point.
Now here she was, standing before him like temptation itself. How many times over the years had he wished for this moment? That he’d have the chance to tell her all those things he should have told her years ago?
Steph glanced back at him as she stroked her fingers over the black leather seat, following the lines of stitching. “Whatever happened to that bike you had in college?”
He shrugged. “Sold it and upgraded.”
“Can’t see you with flames, though.” One corner of her mouth hitched upward as she traced her fingers over the orange and red flames on the tank. “I always saw you as a simple kind of guy. Just black and chrome.”
Gabe chuckled as another, more recent, memory filled his mind. The day he’d bought the bike. It had been the first anniversary of Julia’s death, and he’d wanted to do something positive for Char by letting her help him pick out the colors and designs. She’d insisted it needed flames. “Those were Char’s idea.”
Shit. Heart hammering like a freight train, he dragged a shaking hand through his hair. He hadn’t meant to tell her about Char yet, hadn’t even thought about when or how to tell her. He hadn’t a clue what to expect from his date tonight, whether or not she’d have a problem with him being a single father, and had hoped he could put the conversation off until later. Like with his leg, though, telling Steph was a whole other ball of wax. It came with a story instinct told him she wouldn’t like.
Steph, as usual, didn’t miss a beat. As she rounded the front wheel, her gaze flicked to him, her brows raised in curiosity. “Char?”
His stomach lurched. He’d have to face this eventually. Now, he supposed, was as good a time as any. So he put on the proudest smile he could muster and prayed for a miracle. “Short for Charlotte. My daughter.”
Her eyes widened with surprise, like it was the most absurd idea she’d ever heard. “You have a daughter?”
Dread sank in his stomach like a heavy lead weight. Was that good or bad? “Char’s ten. She came as quite a surprise to me, too, when I found out. Now I can’t imagine my life without her.”
Steph blinked, stared for a beat, eyes searching. Waiting for her reaction tied his gut into knots on top of knots. Was she doing the math? Figuring out that Char had been born almost exactly a year after he’d left Seattle, a mere two months after the last time he’d seen her?
She didn’t slap him or turn around and storm off, the way he’d always envisioned. The way he deserved. Rather, she smiled. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it rang with sweetness all the same. “Look at you all grown up. Got any pictures?”
“Later. Come on. I’m starved.” He unstrapped the spare helmet and handed it to her, then swung a leg over the seat and pulled the bike upright, releasing the kickstand.
He had a dozen pictures of Char packed into his wallet, but he had no desire to show her. At least not now. When he did, she’d invariably ask where Char’s mother was, and he’d have to tell her. He didn’t want to think about Julia right now, let alone talk about her. If he had to explain this now, the guilt would eat at him. He’d make an excuse and go home. He wanted things with her he wasn’t sure were his to want. Companionship. Sex.
Memories of their time together taunted him. When he’d arrived ten minutes ago, his nerves had been in his throat. Standing beside the lake, searching the darkened path for his faceless date, he wasn’t sure he could even do it. A date yes. That was easy. But sex?
And then he’d caught sight of Steph. Right then he only knew two things for sure. She was still gorgeous, and her smile still lit a flame in his gut. For now that had to be enough. Oh, he wanted her. Even eleven years later, it was still there, the desire that had drawn them together in the first place. It was the sensual glint in her eyes, and he ached to dive into her, simply to lose the grief and loneliness his life had become in her sweet, soft body. Let her soothe his soul the way she had once upon a time.
Because she had. It was what had always made him feel so guilty every time he thought about her over the years. What kind of husband did that make him when he’d thought about someone he’d shared so much with while married to Julia?
He also couldn’t give her forever now any more than he could in college, and Steph deserved better. Always had. For now he’d concentrate on catching up with a friend.
When she didn’t climb on behind him, he turned his head. She stood staring at him, melancholy filling her blue eyes. Whatever went on inside that pretty little head of hers scared the hell out of him, because the desire to ask, to fall back into old routines with her, was strong. It had always been so easy with her.
So he held out a hand instead. “You coming?”
She nodded, put on the helmet and fastened the chin strap, then accepted his hand and climbed on behind him. For a split second she froze, then rested her chin on his shoulder. Her hands slid around his rib cage exactly the way they used to. “I missed you, you know.”
The same melancholy he’d seen in her eyes filled her voice and hit him square in the chest. He had the sudden, overwhelming desire to
stroke her thigh, the way he might have once upon a time, for the simple need to connect with her. Instead, he took a moment to pull out his keys.
“Time got away from me. I always meant to catch up with you, but life got…busy. Molly went to college, and after Char was born, I enlisted…” He shrugged, the words he knew he needed to say clogging his throat. He had so many things he’d always sworn he’d tell her if ever he had the chance. That he’d never realized how important she was to him until she was no longer a part of his life, because he’d been too damn caught up in himself, in all those lofty plans he’d had for his career.
How sorry he was that he hadn’t kept in touch. She’d been his best friend, and he’d simply let her go. Of all his regrets, Steph was a big one.
“It’s okay.” She patted the side of her seat. “Come on. Start this beast. I want to hear it growl. We can catch up over dinner.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, they sat in a booth at a small Thai place a few blocks from the park, waiting for dinner to be served. Across from him, Steph sipped a tiny porcelain cup of jasmine tea. Gabe attempted to focus on her and not the busy restaurant around him. Since he’d left the service, his PTSD had lessened to a large degree, but he still had trouble with busy crowds.
Steph set her teacup on the table and folded her hands together, her blue gaze piercing and intense. “You always were a brooder. From the looks of you over there, you haven’t changed much. What’re you thinking?”
He grimaced and dropped his gaze to his own, untouched, cup of tea. Apparently, he wasn’t holding it together very well. Some date he was.