by K. C. Lynn
Feeling proud, I continue my task at hand. “Thank you again for helping me with this. I’m close to my mother but she’s about as knowledgeable in the kitchen as I am. We bond over shopping, not cooking.”
“No thanks needed. I was thrilled when you called, and I know my Gabriel will love this surprise.”
Her excitement fuels my own.
“He likes you a lot, you know,” she adds, her knowing eyes seeking mine.
“You think so?”
“I know so. I saw the way he watched you playing with the children. He had love in his eyes.”
Hope warms in my chest, spreading throughout my entire body. I’m beginning to more than like that man, so to hear her say that means a lot.
“He said the two of you met on one of his calls,” she says, digging for more information.
“We did, but trust me when I tell you our first encounter was not a pretty one. Gabe thought I was a stuck-up spoiled rich girl. The last thing I ever expected was a date with him,” I divulge with a snicker, recalling that first night.
How times have changed.
“Sadly, this does not surprise me.” She sighs, an almost sad note edging her voice. “That’s his own issues though. It had nothing to do with you.”
My curiosity piques. “What do you mean?”
A moment of silence ensues before she looks over at me, revealing a stark pain in her eyes. “Has he told you about his father?”
“No. I asked about him once before but he said he was off limits. I take it their relationship is strained?” I ask, even though I shouldn’t. The last thing I want to do is betray Gabe’s trust but I’d be lying if I said I’m not curious to know more, especially after her comment.
Her gaze shifts back down to her hands as she continues cutting up the vegetables, the knife slicing into the cutting board fills the tense silence.
I begin to feel bad and think I’ve overstepped but before I’m able to apologize, she speaks.
“Gabriel’s father left us when Luis was just a baby. He fell in love with another woman.”
My fork stills from its shredding, my heart breaking at the agony in her voice.
“She’s very wealthy. My husband was her gardener and I cleaned her home.”
Oh my god.
My chest seizes with anger, betrayal slicing through me on this family’s behalf.
“He walked away from us without ever looking back. We haven’t seen him in almost fifteen years.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, reaching out to touch her hand.
Her eyes finally lift to mine and the unshed tears there are unmistakable. It’s obvious that even after all this time she still harbors heartache over this.
“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this but knowing my son, he never will. He doesn’t like to talk about him. It was a rough time for us and we were all very hurt but Gabriel hurt so much more. He and his father were very close and when he walked away like that…” She shakes her head. “Gabriel has never been the same.”
Pain infiltrates my heart to think about Gabe hurting in any way, but to lose a father so abruptly, I can certainly relate to that.
“He stepped up and became the man of the house, even at eleven years old. He mowed lawns and did whatever jobs he could to help pay the bills. Our family would not have survived the way we did without him. Even now, he still takes care of us,” she says, a small smile lifting her sad lips. “He’s paying for me to go to school ya know. So I can live my dream to be a teacher.”
I return her smile. “He said something about that.”
Of course he left out the important fact that he’s paying for it.
“I think it’s very admirable that you are following your dreams,” I tell her.
“Thank you, but I couldn’t do it without my Gabriel. The other boys are good too and help out, but not like Gabe. He’s been our rock.”
Hearing all this only makes me fall that much harder for him. There’s no denying the man is a hothead at times, but he’s a good man. Next to my father, he’s the best I’ve ever known.
“Over the years, the pain of his father walking out on us has turned to anger. A very deep anger,” she says. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the reason why he misjudged you at first.”
After knowing all this I have to agree, but the thought of him thinking for even a second that I was anything like the woman his father left them for hurts me something fierce. Catalina’s remark to him last weekend now suddenly makes sense. It leaves me feeling angry on Gabe’s behalf yet also nauseous to be grouped into the same category as that home wrecker.
I’m pulled out of my tormented thoughts when Marisol touches the side of my face. “My Gabriel may have misjudged you at first but I know he sees you for the wonderful woman you are. He’s a good man, his anger just misguides him sometimes because of the pain he buries inside,” she says, tapping my chest.
If anyone can understand what it’s like to harbor pain, it’s me. There are moments in our life that irrevocably change us and no matter how much we wish we could go back and change the past to spare us that kind of heartbreak there’s no going back. All we can do is learn how to live with that loss every day.
“You have a beautiful family,” I tell her on a whisper. “Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”
“You don’t need to thank me. Now that you are with Gabriel, my family is yours. As much as I love my boys, I always wanted a girl to do all the girly things with. Maybe now I will get to.”
“I can definitely help with that. You don’t get much more girly than me.”
She chuckles and delivers a love tap on my cheek, much the same way all the women seem to do in this family. “Then that’s settled. Today I teach you how to cook my Gabriel’s favorite, next time you take me shopping and teach me all the fashion tips.”
It’s this precise moment that I know without a doubt that this woman and I are going to be great friends.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gabe
The hot water pounds down on my sore muscles, a welcome relief after the grueling shift I had. Three car accidents and two house fires.
One fatality.
Definitely not a great fucking day. It’s probably the only part of my job I don’t like, when someone’s life is out of your control. Sometimes you’re too late.
The need to see CeCe is more profound than ever. I want to bury myself in her body and forget all about the day’s events. Unfortunately, she works late so I’ll have to wait.
With that depressing thought in mind, I shut off the shower and head into my room to get dressed. After sliding on my jeans, I reach for a shirt and that’s when my doorbell rings. A scowl forms on my face as I head downstairs to answer it but it fades the moment I open the door, revealing the one woman I’ve been aching to see.
CeCe holds a picnic basket while shouldering one of her ridiculous-sized purses, her little rat dog’s head peeking out from the top.
“Blondie,” I greet her, my surprise evident. “I thought you worked tonight?”
She leans against my doorjamb, a suggestive smile curving her perfect pink lips. “Jill was a doll and said she would take my shift so I could surprise you with this.” She lifts the basket, excitement dancing in her eyes.
“What is it?”
“Let me in and you’ll find out.”
Smirking, I step aside and she strolls right in, beelining for the kitchen. My gaze drops to her perky ass. The tennis skirt she’s wearing teases the top of her slender thighs and makes my cock harden on the spot.
Stifling a groan, I rein in my need and follow her into the kitchen to see what she’s up to. My good intentions diminish the moment she turns and flashes me that smile of hers.
That’s all it takes for my shitty day to fade away.
My arm curls around her waist and I reel her in for a taste, the small contact of her lips against mine thrashes through my veins. I’m certain I could kiss the girl for the rest of my li
fe and never tire of it.
Our moment is interrupted when the dog shoves his wet nose between us. CeCe pulls away with a chuckle, stroking his back. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought him. I felt bad asking Mrs. Bilson to watch him again.”
“As long as he doesn’t piss in my house or cockblock me, he’s welcome here.”
“No peeing or cockblocking, I promise.”
She gives him a kiss on the head then places him on his feet. He wanders off, nose sweeping along the floor as he explores his surroundings.
“Are you ready for your surprise?” she asks, that excitement lighting up her face again.
“Yeah. Especially if it involves you taking your clothes off.”
“Not quite yet. That’s for dessert,” she says with a sassy wink. “First, let’s have dinner.” She lifts the lid off the basket and tilts it to show me what’s inside. “Ta-da!”
The aroma wafting from the basket has my stomach rumbling in hunger. “You know me so well, Blondie.”
“Guess who made it?”
My eyes widen, her answer reflecting back at me. “Seriously?”
“Sure did. Your mom helped me.”
Another bout of surprise fills me. “You went to my mom’s?”
“Yep and we had a great time. This cooking thing isn’t as hard as I thought. Except for the raw meat,” she adds with a shudder.
As amused as I am, I can’t deny the shift in my chest knowing she stepped out of her comfort zone.
“Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold,” she says, carrying the basket over to the table.
While she does that I grab us some plates and utensils. By the time I come back, she has all the food laid out, including a beer for me and a margarita for herself.
“You thought of everything,” I say, impressed.
“I did, I’m very proud of myself. Now sit down and tell me how good it is even if it sucks.”
There’s no way it sucks, especially if my mom helped her.
We both take our seats and she watches in anticipation as I take my first bite. I consider fucking with her about how awful it is but the hope in her eyes has me doing the opposite and so does the paradise on my tongue.
“It’s amazing, Bella,” I groan.
“Yes!” She fist pumps the air. “Martha Stewart doesn’t have shit on me.”
I chuckle but it trails off quickly as I stare back at her pretty face. “I appreciate all this, I do, but you know you didn’t have to do this, right? I meant what I said the other night, CeCe.”
She shrugs. “I know but I wanted to. Not only for you but also for myself. I wanted to prove that I could do it, that I wasn’t just some stupid blonde like that ex bitch thinks I am.”
My blood heats as I remember my confrontation with Catalina, hating that CeCe heard it.
Reaching over, I wrap my fingers around her delicate hand. “You’re far from stupid, Blondie, anyone who takes the time to get to know you can see that. It takes brains, confidence, and hard work to accomplish what you have.”
Her fingers squeeze mine, a soft smile resting on her face. “I had a wonderful time with your mom today.”
“I’m glad to hear it because, next to you, she’s the most important woman in my life.”
“I can understand why. She is a wonderful mother and loves you very much. I admire her strength. She’s been through a lot. You all have.”
There’s an underlying tone in her voice that has me tensing and by the look in her eyes, I have no doubt she knows about the one part of my life that I wish I could forget.
“She told me about your father,” she whispers, confirming my suspicion.
A heavy breath leaves my mouth as I release her hand and sit back in my chair.
“Please don’t be angry. I wasn’t prying, I swear. We were just talking and sharing things about our families and he came up.”
Hate sears my veins like it always does whenever I’m forced to think about him. Grabbing my beer, I tilt the bottle to my lips, hoping it will cool my heated blood. “Let’s get one thing straight right now. That piece of shit isn’t my father. Got it?”
She nods, remorse and something that looks a lot like pity darkening her eyes. Something I don’t need or want. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I just wanted to be honest with you.”
The sincerity in her tone has me fighting to lock up my anger. “I appreciate you telling me.”
As much as I hate that she knows, I knew it would only be a matter of time. At least now I don’t have to be the one to tell her the details, though I’m sure it wasn’t easy for my mother either.
I feel her gaze burn into the side of my face as I go back to eating but I’ve completely lost my appetite, every bite tasting like acid on my tongue.
“Being with your mom today made me miss mine even more,” she starts quietly, changing the subject. “It also made me think about my father.” Pain and sadness threads through her voice, mixing with my already turbulent emotions.
Reaching over, I take her hand in mine again. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” she whispers, offering me a sad smile. “Do you want to know how he died?”
“Only if you want to tell me.”
“I do. It’s time.”
I nod and wait patiently, knowing this subject is hard for her. Something I completely understand.
She inhales a deep breath, bracing herself for what she reveals next. “He was murdered.”
Every muscle in my body tenses, shock flaring inside of me. I thought maybe he died in an accident or had a heart attack. Not something as heinous as murder.
“Do you remember that political scandal a few years back involving the teenage girls who were being trafficked from the group home?” she asks.
“Yeah, I remember. Senator Michaels was involved.”
It was some sick shit and front-page news for months.
“He’s Emily’s father.”
My eyes widen at the revelation. “Emily as in your best friend, Emily?”
“Trust me, it’s not something she’s proud of. She was dealt a shitty hand in the parents department.”
I’ll say. I remember reading that even his wife was involved in trafficking those girls. If memory serves me right, she’s behind bars while hopefully her husband is burning in hell. Although, if you ask me, death was too good for a bastard like him.
“Em has been my best friend since birth. Our parents were very close but not even my father knew how horrible Senator Michaels really was until it was too late.”
The sorrow in her voice guts me. She should never know this kind of loss and sadness. If I could carry it all for her, I would.
“The night it all went down my father was there. He’d known for a few months what they were up to and was trying to gather evidence for the police. Only everything got screwed up and Emily was caught in the crossfire.” She pauses, taking another hard swallow. “My father took a bullet for her. He saved her life.”
My mind spins with everything she says, disbelief coursing through me.
Her eyes lift to mine, and the tears streaming down her red cheeks are like a punch to the gut. “It was bittersweet. I lost my father but my best friend’s life was spared.”
My fingers squeeze hers, wanting to offer any kind of comfort I can. “He died a hero, CeCe. That’s more than a lot of people can say.”
It probably doesn’t make her feel better but it’s the truth.
She flashes me a watery smile. “Yeah, he did, but he’s always been my hero. And now I’ve found another one.”
Her pinned gaze conveys exactly who she thinks that other person is. “I’m far from a hero, Blondie. I’ve never taken a bullet for anyone.”
“Maybe not but you ran into a burning building for a girl you didn’t even know because she didn’t want to leave behind one of her most cherished possessions.”
“I’d run into a burning building for you any day.”
Her expression softens as she pushes to
her feet and comes to stand before me, her hands moving to my shoulders as she straddles me.
My fingers dig into her hips, her tempting lips only inches from mine.
“I know you would, because next to my father you’re the best man I’ve ever known. A man who stepped up and took care of his family when they needed it, despite only being a child himself.”
My mom just fucking blabbed to her about everything, didn’t she?
“It’s not a big deal. I just did what had to be done.”
“I disagree. I think it’s a very big deal and so does your mom. She loves you very much.”
“I told you I’m her favorite,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood but she doesn’t let me.
Her hand moves to the side of my face, fingers fanning my jaw. “I’m so sorry he hurt you.”
My teeth grind as I try to ward off the intense pain that penetrates me whenever I think about him. “Don’t be sorry. We’re better off without him.”
“Can I ask you just one thing and then I’ll never bring this up again?”
I find myself nodding even though he is the last person I want to talk about.
“Is that why you hated me when we first met?” she asks on a whisper. “Because you thought I was like her.”
The hurt reflecting back at me makes me feel even more guilty than I already do. “I never hated you, CeCe,” I tell her honestly. “But I hated what I thought you stood for. I hated your expensive lifestyle, but more than anything, I hated the way you made me feel when I was around you, because it made me think I was like him.”
“I’d never do what she did,” she whispers, a single tear trickling down her cheek. “I’d never break up a family like that.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I was wrong about you in the beginning and you’ll never know how sorry I am about that. But make no mistake, CeCe, I know you are nothing like that bitch.” Reaching up, I cup her soft cheek. “You’re beautiful,” I whisper, leaning in to brush a kiss across her cheek. “Sassy and kind.” I take her bottom lip between mine, possessing her mouth before I pull back and look deep into her pale irises. “But best of all…you’re mine.”