by Codi Gary
“I—”
“There’s nothing to fix. I was here first, and I’m taking the apartment.”
Caroline clenched her fists and counted silently to calm herself. Places to rent were hard to come by in Rock Canyon, and she didn’t know how much longer she could stand listening to Val and her boyfriend getting it on while she slept on the couch.
Focusing her attention on Gemma again, she asked, “Has he signed the lease yet?”
“No, I—”
“Good. Then you can just hand me the lease you drew up for me, and I’ll sign it now,” Caroline said, giving Gabe a shrug. “Sorry, but I saw the apartment first.”
“Like I said, princess,” Gabe said, moving closer until he was nose to nose with her. Unconsciously, her eyes moved to those damn kissable lips. “Get your sweet ass out of here—”
“I’m very sorry about the confusion,” Gemma broke in loudly, and when both of them swung their attention her way, Caroline saw her swallow hard. “I think I need to talk to Travis before I make any decisions.”
Caroline gritted her teeth and wanted to scream in frustration, but Gabe’s dark eyes were watching her again. It was on the tip of her tongue to rip into Gemma about having to ask her husband’s permission, but she refrained for the sake of pissing off her potential landlady.
Besides, if she threw a bitch fit, it might make hot shot look like a better choice of tenant, and she couldn’t let him win. Especially when he was so damn sure of himself.
Taking in a deep breath, Caroline said, “Fine. I’ll call you with another number to reach me in about ten minutes.”
With one last hostile glare at Gabe, Caroline stormed out of the shop.
His apartment? Not gonna fucking happen.
Chapter Three
“Attention all the single ladies: Fresh meat has arrived! Oh, and get this, he has a motorcycle. Mmm . . . I smell a bad boy.”
—Miss Know It All
GABE MORIARTY WALKED out of Chloe’s Book Nook, yanking on his gloves. He had been this close to signing the paperwork to the Bowerses’ apartment until that little wildcat had stormed in, making demands. Now he had to wait until Gemma talked it over with Travis and they decided what to do.
Gabe could tell that Gemma had been distraught, and he hadn’t wanted to add to her stress by voicing his displeasure, but damn it, he was there first. That uppity witch could go take her attitude somewhere else to live. Speaking of Miss Temper, there was no sign of her. She was probably off to speak to her lawyer or maybe off looking for that tow truck. He snorted. As if anyone was going to touch his bike but him.
It was too bad too, ’cause despite her putting a monkey wrench in his plans, she was fucking hot. With her long dark hair pulled back from her face, her brown eyes had drawn him in, and although he’d tried to play cool, he’d felt his heart beat faster with every sassy word out of her mouth.
You mean that lush mouth? The one that was probably good at a number of things?
Straddling his bike, Gabe shrugged into his jacket before grabbing his helmet off the back and slammed it down onto his head, cursing.
It didn’t matter how hot she was, she was the pain-in-the-ass reason he wasn’t getting his apartment, and that pissed him the hell off. Gabe had a plan, and he hated when things didn’t go smoothly.
He’d driven into town the day before yesterday, planning on surprising Chase Trepasso, an old friend of his, only to find out that Chase was out of town until today. He’d wanted to be settled, already set with a place to live before he dropped in on Chase, just in case the welcome wasn’t as warm as he’d hoped. It had been sixteen years since he’d seen his former best friend, and that last time had been a blur of disbelief, confusion, and rage. Now, he was stuck staying at the Rock Canyon Inn, and when he walked into Chase’s tattoo shop, there was a chance that Chase would tell him to get the hell out of town.
He wasn’t going anywhere, though—even if the Bowerses gave into that prickly princess’s temper tantrum.
One of the things he’d been working on—during the five years he’d spent in that tiny Nevada state prison cell—was a list of all the mistakes he’d made to get there.
And the way he’d treated Chase was on it.
It had taken him about a year to stop blaming Chase for his own mistake, mostly because he hadn’t been ready to admit what an idiot he’d been. His prison psychologist had helped him come to that conclusion, and actually, it had been his idea to form the list in the first place.
The list had started with the obvious—making sure Honey was taken care of—and from there, it had grown. Gabe had been checking things off for years, but it seemed like for every wrong he made right, another two wrongs popped up. It had started as a way to help him assuage his guilt but had grown into much more.
It quickly became the right thing to do. He’d always known right from wrong, but the lines had blurred for a while there. He’d been trying to walk the line for the last nine years, though, and being in Rock Canyon was just a part of that.
It was a central location for what he was trying to build for himself and for his future. Being rural Idaho, halfway between two sets of mountains, with beautiful areas to explore, it was also perfect for a man trying to get a custom motorcycle shop off the ground. And it was only two hours from one of the best assisted-living facilities in the country.
“I wanna see the mountains, Gabey.”
When he’d quit his job in Colorado and uprooted his sister, Honey, and her nurse, Sharla, from the facility where they’d been living for five years, neither had been happy with him. But he’d been tired of Denver and tired of working for someone else. So, when he’d started researching areas with the best facilities, Sun Valley, Idaho, had come up on his radar. It was surrounded by the Sawtooth Mountains and fulfilled Honey’s only request.
Backing up his bike, he pulled out and down the alleyway until he hit a side street, making his way back to the main stretch where Chase’s tattoo parlor sat. It was too early for Chase to be open, but Gabe couldn’t stand the idea of lying around the hotel another day either. Instead, revving up the bike, he headed out of town and took a left toward the highway.
It was a two-hour drive to Sun Valley. Of course, he’d have to take a little detour through the McDonald’s drive-through for a large fries and vanilla shake, or Honey would pitch a fit. But in the big scheme of things, it was a little thing to do for his sister; he had a lot to make up for.
Like the fact that he had cost his sister the chance at a normal life.
Gabe passed over Highway 84, and the cold wind bit through the leather of his jacket, causing goosebumps to prickle across his skin. He normally wore a hoodie under his jacket for long rides, but he’d been too pissed off by the events at Gemma’s bookshop to bother going back to the hotel to grab one. He had thought everything was settled; hell, he had been damn excited to move into the little two-bedroom apartment. It would be quiet and private, with plenty of space for just him. In Denver, he’d been living in a cramped little studio apartment with his TV, bed, and an old recliner he’d bought at a garage sale years back. Right now, everything was locked up in a storage unit in Twin Falls. He’d had plans to move everything today, but that was shot to shit.
By the time he pulled into the center’s parking lot two hours later, his skin was numb, but the cold had helped him think a little more clearly. Maybe Rock Canyon wasn’t the right town. This could be a sign that he was on the wrong track and should start looking around at other locations.
Grabbing the shakes and bag of fries he’d picked up, he walked into the building, calculating all the costs he was looking at for setting up shop in Rock Canyon. Since arriving, he’d noticed that places for rent were few and far between, and spaces large enough for his custom-built motorcycle shop were even scarcer still. He’d driven by what looked like an old firehouse on the edge of town with a SPACE FOR RENT sign out front, but when he’d called, the price had been a little steeper than he’d banke
d on. Especially if he ended up staying at the hotel for an extended length of time. Maybe in another town, he’d have better luck.
Gabe had been saving for his dream shop for nine years, but the money he’d saved was meant to go toward the equipment he needed. He didn’t want to have to take out large business loans and have some small-town bank manager delving into his past. His past was his own, and he didn’t want it spread across town. Especially when it detailed that he’d spent five years in prison for an accident he’d caused while riding drunk.
An accident involving his sixteen-year-old sister, who had been on the back of his bike at the time.
As he came through the front door, the woman at the check-in desk, Gillian, waved at him happily.
“Hello, Mr. Moriarty!”
“Hey, Gillian,” he said, signing the visitor log. “Is she in her room?”
“Yep, just got back from the pool.”
“Thanks,” Gabe said, heading for the stairs that would take him to the second floor and Honey’s room. The nice thing about the facility was that it had all the medical staff of a hospital but with studio and one- and two-bedroom apartments. Residents could eat in the main dining hall or have their meals in their rooms. It allowed the more-independent, functioning occupants the freedom they wanted, along with structured plans for others like Honey.
Slipping the other shake between his arm and his body, he knocked on Honey’s door. Sharla Baker, Honey’s nurse for the last six years, opened the door, her dark eyes widening.
“Well, bless my soul, Gabriel, we didn’t expect you until the weekend.”
“Hey, Sharla.” Gabe gave her a hug. The facility offered a fantastic nursing staff, but Sharla had an almost maternal bond with Honey, and she knew his sister’s moods. There were times when he wondered what they’d do if she retired, but for now, he loved the gentle, compassionate woman for everything she’d done for them—above and beyond what she was paid for. She was family. And although she shared Honey’s care with other nurses at night and on her days off, none of them could replace her.
“I had some time today, so I figured I’d come for a visit,” he said, walking past her into the room. He caught sight of Honey, sitting by the window, painting. Suddenly all his anger, frustration, and worry drained away as he watched his beautiful sister focus so intently on the canvas. Her hair was cut short, a riot of corkscrew curls that stopped at the back of her neck. She was wearing a simple white dress with light pink flowers that made her caramel skin appear darker.
“Hey, baby girl,” he said softly, knowing that startling Honey when she was consumed by an activity could bring on an episode.
She didn’t turn around, but Sharla patted his arm before she went to stand next to Honey.
“Honey, your brother is here.”
Honey turned slowly, as if coming out of a trance, and Sharla repeated herself. Shifting toward the door, Honey’s pretty face broke into a bright, joyful smile.
“Gabey!”
Honey struggled to her feet with her hand on the back of the chair, and Sharla put an arm around her waist to steady her. Gabe set the food down on the round table in Honey’s little kitchen just before Honey launched herself against his chest.
Gathering her close, Gabe’s stomach twisted as he rocked her back and forth. “How you doing, baby girl?”
“I painted the mountains! Come and see—oof!”
She had tried to pull away excitedly and would have fallen if he hadn’t kept a hold of her.
“Easy. I’m not going anywhere.”
Honey’s lower lip started to quiver and her eyes filled up with tears as she rubbed her hip. Gabe hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but she easily forgot her limitations, and the last thing he wanted was to see her hurt again. Because of him, she’d already had her leg pieced back together, using screws and pins that had left one leg shorter than the other. Walking too much was painful, and fast movements could sometimes throw her off balance.
“Hey, come on now, where is this picture? You know I want to see it. Maybe I’ll hang it up in my new place.”
Honey’s face immediately split into an excited smile, the sheen in her eyes disappearing. It was one of the side effects of her brain injury that he would never get used to—how rapidly her moods could shift. One minute she’d be laughing and teasing him, and the next she’d be screaming and throwing things. It had scared the shit out of him the first time he’s seen it, and even now it unnerved him.
With his arm still around her waist, she led him over to her easel. Despite her issues with impulse control, Honey hadn’t lost any of her artistic talent. She had captured the snowcapped mountains and the cloudy spring sky. It might not have been as cleanly detailed as her work before the accident, but it was still beautiful.
It had actually been Honey’s love of art that had brought her and Chase together when they were teenagers. They had been too afraid to tell Gabe that they were seeing each other, worried about how he would react to his best friend dating his baby sister.
It turned out that they had been right to be concerned. Gabe had taken it hard and had overreacted. He could blame the alcohol he’d consumed, but it wasn’t just that. When he’d caught them, he’d been fighting his own issues, which had only fueled the violent pummeling he’d given Chase before ordering Honey onto the back of his bike. Looking back, Gabe had a feeling that even if he’d caught them kissing when he was stone-cold sober, he’d have probably flown off the handle anyway.
Only he might not have overcorrected on that curve and sent his bike careening off the road. He definitely wouldn’t have spent five years in prison, and his sister would have had a real future.
“Gabe?”
He realized that Honey had been repeating his name. “Sorry, I was just so caught up in your painting. You did good.”
Honey beamed at him. Her dark eyes and long lashes reminded him of when she was six, and she’d wanted a piece of his Halloween candy because she’d already demolished hers. He’d given in, unable to resist her puppy-dog eyes or the way she’d thrown her arms around him, squeezed him tight, and whispered, “You’re the best brother ever.”
If only that were still true. He’d been trying every day to make it up to her. He’d gotten out of prison and spent the last nine years fighting for her, doing everything he could to make her life better. This place was definitely better than the state hospital his mother had left her in.
He still wanted to rip his mother apart for putting Honey in that place, despite the fact that she’d been dead for almost seven years now. While he was awaiting trial, his mother had sued the hospital for missing a brain bleed on Honey’s scans. She’d been awarded millions—plenty of money to give Honey the best care—but instead, his compulsive gambler of a mother had locked Honey up in a place where he wouldn’t put his worst enemy. By the time he’d gotten out of prison, his mother had blown through nearly everything.
When his mother was shot outside of a gaming hall in one of the rougher areas of the city, Gabe couldn’t muster too much sadness for her. In the end, she’d been a selfish bitch. He could forgive her for a lot, but the way she’d turned her back on Honey had been enough for him. He’d claimed her body, used the money in her account to pay for cremation, and then sold everything she owned to pay for Honey’s care.
If that made him a hard son-of-a-bitch, then so be it. But he’d needed to be that way. To survive prison. To be able to protect Honey. Hell, just to deal with life and the uphill battle he was fighting, he had to learn to harden up.
“Do I get to see your place?”
Honey’s question jarred him, and he hesitated. If it were up to him, Honey would live with him, but Sharla and Honey’s former doctor had convinced him that Honey needed structure to avoid the confusion that might lead to violent outbursts. Too much stimuli and change could upset her, and after witnessing Honey’s episodes firsthand, he had agreed with them.
“Soon. Hey, I brought you something,” Gabe said, h
elping her sit down at the little table. Her face lit up when she saw the bag and drink cup.
She dove into the bag and pulled out the fries, shoving several into her mouth with a groan. “I love French fries.”
“I know,” he said, watching her take off the lid of her shake and dip her fries into the ice cream, just like when they were kids.
“So, tell us about your new apartment,” Sharla said, sitting down at the table.
“The other shake and fries are for you,” Gabe said as he sat down next to Honey.
“That was sweet of you, but I’m trying to watch my figure,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “These days, I can’t eat just anything like you young people can.” It didn’t stop her from sneaking a few fries, though, before repeating, “So, your new place . . .”
“I haven’t even moved in yet. It turns out that while the husband had agreed to rent it to me, the wife had promised it to a woman, and when we both showed up to sign the lease, they decided to talk about it first.”
Gabe was talking more to Sharla than Honey, who was too busy eating to pay attention.
“That’s terrible,” Sharla said.
“Yeah, and I get the feeling the other potential tenant will make some major waves if the decision goes my way. She just seems like the real uptight, self-involved diva type, you know?”
“They should go with the first person to claim it.”
“I agree,” Gabe replied, appreciating Sharla’s loyalty. “But I also don’t want to start sh—” He caught himself at Sharla’s warning look. “Stuff in a new place and cause problems. I’m trying to turn over a new leaf.”
“Psh, just because you’re trying not to make waves doesn’t mean you let other people push you under the water.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not. But whether they pick me or not, it’s out of my hands.”
“You should share,” Honey said, her words garbled by a mix of fries and milkshake.
Gabe stared at his sister, fighting a smile. “You think I should share my apartment with a strange woman?”