Reforming Gabe

by Alicia Hunter Pace

  Neyland frowned and shook her head. “No. She died in the fire. I only have a vague memory of it. My mother crying, my daddy pacing the floor. Todd was a baby, and I remember my grandmother coming to stay with us while Mama and Daddy went to the funeral. But they’ve told me about it over the years.”

  “Camille didn’t die in the fire. My mother tossed her from a second-story balcony, and I was supposed to catch her. I could catch anything, even then. But I let her fall.”

  Neyland tensed in his arms, and her facial expression went from quiet understanding to horrified, maybe with a little anger mixed in.

  “I had no idea.”

  “My mother must have known it was Camille’s only chance. But it wasn’t much of one.”

  “You cannot think that was your fault!” Neyland burst out. The defense felt good, but it was a false good because she didn’t know the whole story.

  “It damned well was my fault. Who else’s could it have been? My mother didn’t toss that baby to Jackson or Rafe. Certainly not Beau. We didn’t even know where he was at that point. We thought he was in the house, but he’d sneaked out and was behind the tent. Slept through most of it.”

  Gabe closed his eyes against the horror. He’d trained himself to never think of that night, but it was flashing before him now. And Neyland was holding him tight, offering comfort that felt good but he didn’t deserve.

  “Don’t you understand?” He forced himself to pull away from Neyland’s embrace. “My mother picked me to save my sister.”

  “You were ten years old,” Neyland said.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “You were scared. Your parents were trapped in a burning house. You thought Beau was in there, too.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I let her fall, Neyland. I did it on purpose. I don’t know why it’s taken this long to come back and haunt me.” There. He’d said it. She’d get up and leave now. No one wanted be with a baby killer. He couldn’t even stand to be with himself.

  Neyland narrowed her eyes and shook his head.

  “There is nothing that would ever make me believe you did that. Even twenty years ago. Even at ten. I could name your shortcomings from now until June—”

  “By all means, do then.”

  She gave him a hard stare for interrupting her. “As I was saying—but you don’t have that in you. You couldn’t knowingly harm anyone, let alone your two-year-old sister.”

  “I’m pretty sure I did.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I don’t have any excuse.”

  “Then don’t give me any. Tell me what’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours, behind that beautiful face.”

  “A fine time for you to tell me you find me attractive.”

  “If I didn’t find you attractive, I wouldn’t screw your brains out every chance I get. I won’t stop until I have the whole story.”

  “Okay. All right.” He held up a hand in surrender. “I told you once that my mother was the only one who could tell Rafe and me apart.”

  “Besides me.”

  “Besides you. But that wasn’t true. Camille could. And she liked Rafe better than me. I wasn’t used to that. I’m the dominant twin ’til this day. Back then, I was the one who always answered for both of us, the one with the charisma. So people gravitated to me over Rafe. But not Camille. Almost from the time she was born, she loved Rafe best. Not just better than me, better than anyone. And Rafe ate it up. I didn’t like my twin having a bond with someone other than me. Jackson always did love Beau and looked after him. I guess he had felt pretty alone until Beau was born since Rafe and I always had each other. After Camille came onto the scene, I knew how he felt. Alone. So I dropped her.”

  Neyland shook her head. “Who put this idea in your head?”

  “Nobody. Nobody had to. I know.” And no one had. No one had ever blamed him.

  “There is no excuse for the adults in your life not making sure you were okay.”

  He bristled at that. “I was okay. I was alive. There are three graves out in that family plot, and one of them is because of me and my jealousy.”

  “It’s not true.”

  “You don’t believe I was jealous of that little girl?”

  “I have no doubt. Of course you were. You were Gabe Beauford, cock of the walk even back then. But, baby, you were a child.”

  “I would not have outgrown that jealousy.”

  “You’re probably right. If Camille had lived and she and Rafe were still especially close, you wouldn’t like it worth a damn. You want everyone to love Gabe first and best.”

  “That’s not very flattering.”

  “I am not in the flattery business. I’m in the truth business, and I’m telling you: you would not have hurt Camille.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Besides the fact that you wouldn’t hurt anyone? Because you loved her, too. You loved her enough that you torture yourself.”

  “That’s a nice fairy tale, but you don’t know what goes on in my head. I thought it would get better, but it hasn’t. And if it doesn’t, there’s no way I can sign that contract.”

  “Listen, Gabe—”

  He couldn’t do this anymore.

  “No, you listen, Neyland. I appreciate all these nice thoughts. I really do. But you told me if I told you, you wouldn’t bring it up again. And I’m declaring this discussion over.”

  She looked at him a long time, still soft-eyed. “All right. I’m sorry about this, but I don’t pity you.”

  “I never thought you would. That’s probably part of the reason I told you. Pity and a low opinion do not go hand in hand.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t have a low opinion of you. I have a realistic opinion. And I like you anyway.”

  “Still?” He couldn’t help but smile a little.

  She ran her hand up his rib cage under his shirt, and his cock immediately stood up and took notice. There was something about a cold hand on warm skin. It was like soothing balm, chasing away the angst and summoning the want of her.

  “Still.” And she took his mouth, leading with her tongue, hot and sweet.

  He pulled her hips to him and cradled his penis between her thighs, preparing to take control, longing to bury himself deep inside her.

  “No,” she said. “Let me.”

  And she eased him to his back and slid on top of him, undressing him, undressing herself, kissing and caressing and she went. This time it seemed different—not as frantic, not as primal; there was sweet mixed in with the heat. He had never let a woman take the lead before, but with Neyland straddling him and leaning forward to offer her breast, it was easy to give himself to her, easy for him to beg her to lower herself onto him.

  Later when they were in bed, with Neyland snuggled against him wearing his shirt, he wondered if this was what making love felt like.

  But he let sleep chase the thought away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Neyland looked at the silver on her worktable. She should have been excited to start the chatelaine pieces—and on some level she was. Trouble was, there was a whole other level that kept making her wipe tears from her eyes.

  And what the hell, anyway? She wasn’t a crier, had never been a crier. Her father often said that, even when she was a small child, things that would send other kids into hysterics only made Neyland dig her heels in and fight back.

  So why was she crying over Gabe Beauford now? Or maybe it was more like crying for him. Either way, her heart was breaking—but she was a little mad, too. What had Laura Beauford been thinking to put such a burden on a ten-year-old child? She had to have known there was a chance he would fail to catch the baby and what that would do to him. If she were going to be completely fair, Neyland would admit that only a truly desperate woman would toss her baby from a second story balcony, let alone into a child’s arms. But Neyland couldn’t get onboard with sympathy for Gabe’s mother right now. She was too haunted by the hollow look on Gabe’s face, too haunted by the
knowledge of how long he’d been carrying this burden. And she was beyond frustrated that there was nothing she could do. Why had she painted herself into a corner by promising to never bring it up again? Was she supposed to let him leave next week without ever saying another word about it?

  And, no doubt, he would be leaving next week. Gwen and Dirk were due back on Sunday. He probably wouldn’t leave then, but for sure on Monday—a week from today. She ought to be glad. She was getting in too deep—though she could handle that as long as he never found out.

  She wiped away another tear. That was the last one and, by damn, she meant it. Out front Noel was humming to herself—and with good reason. Her guy was coming home tonight, and he’d never wanted to leave her in the first place. Gabe wasn’t Neyland’s guy. Never had been, never would be.

  But it had felt like he was last night. When he’d been deep inside her, it had been more than fun, desire, and pleasure. There had been a connection that would have brought her satisfaction even if she had not come. But she had, of course. She had taken the lead until her first orgasm. Then he had taken the reins until she came and came and came—like always. Something deep in her womb shuddered. If she had him here right now, she would back him up against the wall and beg him to have sex with her without the benefit of birth control until a baby—or maybe two—took root inside her.

  Startled at her thoughts, Neyland shook her head. What was wrong with her? This was a two-week fling, for Christendom’s sake. And having a baby had never occurred to her, especially not one sired by a football player, let alone her father’s favorite former player of all time. She took a deep breath. Okay. She was over it. This was crazy thinking, and it was over.

  Good.

  She leafed through the sketches for the chatelaine prototype. Where to start? She wanted to do a mix of traditional and new charms to show the possibilities, so she had decided on a heart-shaped mirror, a postage stamp case, and needle case for the old, plus for the new, an initial—a G because it was pleasing to the eye—and a football. She had only chosen a football because there were millions of fans and she knew a football would sell. But she was in no mood for a football right now—or a heart, or a G, even though choosing that letter had nothing to do with Gabe. Might as well start on the needle case.

  But then the curtain parted and Noel stuck her head in. “Neyland, you have a customer.” Noel looked excited. But then, Noel always looked excited these days.

  Grateful to lay the chatelaine project aside, Neyland rose.

  “Serious?” she whispered.

  Noel shrugged an I don’t know.

  Two big sales this close together was too much to hope for. A man stood looking in the glass case that held her ladies, but that didn’t mean anything. He probably wanted a hundred dollar bracelet, if he wanted anything.

  “Hello. I’m Neyland MacKenzie. What can I do to help you today?” Neyland pasted on a happy face. Even browsers deserved a smile.

  The man smiled back. Middle-aged, nondescript looks. His clothes weren’t high-end but they weren’t cheap either. He could probably afford a piece of her jewelry.

  “Hello, Neyland. My anniversary is coming up and I wanted to get my wife something special.” He laughed loud and hearty. “She’s put up with a lot over the last nineteen years, you know.”

  “I’m sure it hasn’t been that bad if you’re the kind who has put so much thought into what you want to give her. What did you have in mind?”

  He pointed to the case. “I wanted to look at something here. I was watching the ACM awards and saw Aubrey Jamison, and she mentioned you. I just love her, don’t you?”

  “I do.” And more and more all the time. This might be a possibility. “I love to see my pieces go to good homes.” Neyland unlocked the case, pulled out the pieces, and lined them up. “Does your wife like bracelets? Daisy is in the art deco style inspired by a 1920s flapper headband. She’s white gold filigree and camphor glass with diamond chips.”

  The man gasped. “You name them? This was meant to be. I don’t even want to hear about the others.” He gestured to Elizabeth, Victoria, and Aphrodite. My wife’s name is Daisy!”

  “Really? That’s a name you don’t hear very often these days, but I love it.” He was going to buy her! He really was. Well, maybe.

  But when she showed him the price, he didn’t blink.

  “We named our daughter Daisy, too, so there are at least two running around.”

  Neyland felt giddy. “Three if you count my girl.”

  “Seriously, my wife is going to love that you name your pieces. Can you gift wrap it for me?”

  “Of course.”

  • • •

  “So how was it being with the team and not being able to play?” Gabe asked Nickolai. They were finishing up their workouts in Beauford Bend’s fitness room.

  “Hell. That’s what it was, Gabe Beauford.” Nickolai stepped off the treadmill, retrieved a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator, and sat on a stool at the wet bar counter. “Hell, being in that arena and idle. Hell, being away from my Noel. But next week, I play.”

  “Where?” Gabe sat up on the weight bench and faced Nickolai. He had not been keeping up with the playoffs like he had intended. He’d been too busy dodging his agent, having sex with Neyland, and running his mouth and whining to her about things he had no business telling. He’d driven to Nashville today to retrieve Annabelle from Aubrey. It was now hidden in his underwear drawer, along with that bracelet the actor had bought today. By the end of the week, he’d have the other pieces, too. His underwear drawer might not be the best place to keep a bunch of expensive gewgaws, but he would have explaining to do and plenty of it if he stashed it in Jackson’s safe. A safe deposit box might have been an option if Neyland’s uncle hadn’t owned the only bank in town. Those things were supposed to be private, but that was a little too close for comfort. Aubrey had told him again he was going to be sorry about this deception, but really, what did it hurt? Neyland had been so happy about that second sale. Why did she have to find out? Still, the sooner he got out of town the better. “Is Noel going to the game? Maybe we can get a flight together. Too bad Jackson’s got his plane with him.”

  “No need for a flight. We play in Nashville. But, da. She will go to the game.”

  So it looked like if he wanted to see that playoff game—and he did—he’d have a few days more in Beauford than he’d thought.

  “I always play better when my Noel is watching,” Nickolai continued.

  “Really? When I have a woman in the stands, it never affects me one way or the other. I never think about it or remember she’s there.”

  “That’s because you haven’t had the right woman there watching. Was the same for me at one time. They could come. Or not. Is different with my Noel. Will be different with you and the right woman.”

  Gabe got up and got a water from the fridge. “I don’t believe in the right woman. I believe when you’re ready to get married, you marry whoever’s handy at the time. Romantics—like you and Jackson—convince themselves that she’s the right woman.”

  “You’re wrong. You’ll see. Or I hope you will. And when it happens, you’ll be a better football player.”

  Except he wouldn’t be a football player at all. Gabe had finally told his agent to tell the front office he wasn’t signing and to prepare a statement announcing his retirement. Quent had argued long and hard, and finally, just to get him to shut up, Gabe had agreed to be silent for two more weeks. Quent said he could put the Wranglers off that long, and meanwhile, if he didn’t want to be in San Antonio anymore, wouldn’t Gabe consider negotiating with another team? Gabe had said, “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” but nothing was going to change.

  “I’m glad you’ve found the religion of true love, Glaz. But don’t be looking for me to follow you down that bloody road.”

  “Well, if you don’t want to be a better football player … ”

  If only it were that simple.

  Chapter
Seventeen

  “And she bought Elizabeth and Victoria!” Neyland’s cheeks were pink with excitement. Gabe and Neyland were eating dinner at Mill Time, and Neyland was telling her good news to Abby Whitman, who had just served their drinks. “She has two granddaughters graduating from high school, and she wanted gifts for them.”

  “Neyland, that’s great! I’m so excited for you,” Abby said.

  “And now there’s only Aphrodite left.”

  Yes, and that would change tomorrow. Then Gabe would have all five pieces lying there under his Hanes boxer shorts. What in the hell was he going to do with all that jewelry? Bury it in the backyard? Throw it in the ocean?

  After Abby had gushed appropriately, taken their food order, and left, Neyland met Gabe’s eyes. “I have other news.”

  “Oh?”

  “I didn’t want to tell Abby. She has such a hard time supporting herself and baby Phillip that I didn’t want to give her all my good news at once. Besides, I wanted to tell you first.”

  Tell you first. That did something to his gut.

  “What is it? Did you get yourself a new pair of sassy britches? Maybe in Tennessee orange?”

  “No. But if this works out, I might, just for you. I heard back from Razzle Dazzle. They want to see the prototype for the chatelaine necklace. They loved the proposal. They don’t need to see the chain. Just three of the charms. Which means I can get it out on Friday, maybe Thursday.”

  He covered her hand with his. “That’s great, Neyland. Really great. I know they’ll buy it.”

  “If they do, I have you to thank.” She took a sip of her drink. “I’m so grateful, I might reconsider and sell you your next kiss-off gift.”

  What? He might have pulled his hand back, but he felt frozen. What would make her say such a thing? But, then again, why wouldn’t she? They weren’t in a relationship.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He took a healthy drink of his beer.

  “I take commissions. Let me know what you want, and I’ll get on it. You’re leaving next week after the Sound game on Wednesday? You’ll probably need that jewelry by October.” She closed her eyes and sipped her wine.