by Virna DePaul
“Aren’t you worried about hurting your face?”
He looked at her, surprised. “What do you mean?”
Was it just his imagination or was she blushing?
“Well, it’s just you’re so… I mean…I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you feel weird.”
“No, it’s okay.”
She shrugged, blushing more deeply. “You’re a nice looking person. Aren’t you worried boxing will mess up your face?”
She’d complimented him without a trace of guile or motive, and he suddenly wanted to puff his chest out at the knowledge she found him attractive. “Eh, it adds to the street cred. Gives a man something to brag about.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I guess we should get back,” she said. “Mom’s gonna want to feed you guys eventually.”
Did she sound regretful? Or did he just want to believe she was into him?
He supposed their time together was over, but it had been sweet while is lasted. He tried to soak in as much as he could as they walked back to the house.
“Where’d you two go?” Jamie said when they reached the pool after climbing the stairs.
Bri smiled at Gabe, then at her brother. Just as she opened her mouth to answer, Jamie’s mom stepped out onto the patio with a man who was obviously Jamie and Brianne’s father. He’d given Brianne her wavy dark hair and eyes.
Jamie’s mom called out. “Brianne, did you say hello to Eric? You’ve met his parents before, you remember, at the Charity Ball this past spring? The Davenports.”
“Yes, and of course I remember Eric’s parents,” Brianne said.
“Eric, are you planning on attending the charity polo match next month?” Jamie’s mom continued.
Eric smiled hugely. “I’m planning on being in it.”
“Are you? How exciting!” Brianne’s hands came together in a small spatter of applause. Her eyes came back to Gabe. “How about you, Gabe? Are you going or playing?”
Gabe didn’t ride horses. Plus, he was pretty sure anything that mixed charity work and rich people would be something he couldn’t afford to go to. He managed a tight smile. “No, sorry.”
“Oh.” She looked down at her hands.
It stung Gabe more than he could believe, that one gesture. A door might as well have slammed shut between the two of them.
“Brianne was just saying how she didn’t have a date for the event yet,” Mrs. Whitcomb said. “Eric, you should escort her. That is, if you don’t mind.”
There was no missing the way Brianne’s eyes bored holes into her mother. Gabe guessed she wasn’t the kind of girl who liked being set up—especially when the set-up was so obvious, and when it put her on the spot. He wondered how long it had been since her breakup, then wondered if it was wrong to hope she wasn’t ready for a relationship yet. At least, not with Eric. He felt a pang of disloyalty at the thought.
Brianne looked right at Gabe. A little pulse beat at the base of her neck and there was a question in her eyes but it was one he couldn’t answer. He didn’t belong in the world of charity polo things and giant summer houses that overlooked a vast expanse of shining sand and water. He was a street kid whose one good outfit consisted of a second-hand suit jacket and a pair of dark slacks. On the other hand, even though Eric’s parents didn’t come from money, they had it now, and Eric would one day inherit his father’s fortune.
“I’d love to escort you,” Eric said and then he gave Brianne an over-the-top bow that made her bright, tinkling laughter sound out again.
It was just as well, Gabe told himself. She deserved a guy like Eric. Privileged. Well-connected.
One who could give her all the things she deserved.
Chapter One
Six years later…
Brianne slowly scratched a heart in the sand with her immaculately manicured fingertip. Behind her, the muffled sounds of her wedding reception taunted her. Probably the most awkward reception in history, she mused, given the groom had never shown up. But her family and friends were doing their best to give her exactly what she’d asked of them—moving forward with the party in order to celebrate a new beginning, even if it wasn’t exactly the beginning they’d all been expecting.
Sighing, she scrubbed the heart out with her palm then wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her bent knees. It had been a beautiful day for a beach wedding on Coronado Island—upper seventies, low humidity, with ample sunlight that had faded to an evening that was just as wonderful. Now there was a light breeze, no clouds, and the starry sky stretched over the Pacific. She’d taken a huge gamble by having an outdoor wedding, even in Southern California, but she’d risked it in order to create the perfect, storybook start to her married life with Eric. The weather, unlike her fiancé, hadn’t let her down.
Not that she could really blame Eric for what he’d done. How could she?
Cringing, face flaming, she covered her face with her hands, still unable to believe she’d cried out another man’s name during an erotic dream.
Twice.
And not just any man’s name, but Eric’s best friend’s name. Gabe.
That was bad. Bad enough, if not to justify Eric getting cold feet at the last minute and texting her he wasn’t coming, at least bad enough to cut him some slack.
Of course, most of the wedding party and guests weren’t feeling as sympathetic to Eric’s plight as she was because they didn’t know why he’d jilted her. They were horrified and angry, thinking the worst of him, and that was especially true of Gabe. He’d looked like he was ready to kill Eric. If he only knew, she thought.
God, what a mess.
Lowering her hands, she blinked away fresh tears as she imagined what Gabe would think of her if he knew the whole story. How he would react to the news he’d played a part in breaking them up. He would despise her for hurting his best friend so badly. But he could never think less of her than she currently thought of herself.
She pulled her cell phone out of her little satin purse and stared at the text Eric had sent her. It was so like him. Brutally honest. To the point. Yet also gentle and kind.
I’m sorry, Brianne. It happened again. I can’t marry you until you figure out who you want—me or Gabe. Be honest. Is a small part of you relieved? No matter what the answer, I’ll always love you.
When she’d received Eric’s text, she’d been enjoying a rare moment alone in her dressing room while her bridesmaids were getting ready to walk down the aisle. She had read it, barely believing her eyes.
It happened again.
The dreams themselves weren’t so unusual. She’d had periodic dreams of Gabe since she was nineteen. But apparently she’d started to talk during the dreams, because several days ago, Eric had confronted her with what she’d moaned in her sleep.
Reading Eric’s text, she’d relived the horror on his face, the horror she’d felt, when he’d told her what he’d heard. Then, with trembling fingers, she’d put down her phone and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
It hadn’t mattered that she was wearing a beautiful gown, that her make up was flawless, and that her hair had been pulled to the side with a beautiful fresh gardenia.
All she’d seen was a woman so ugly she’d made a wonderful man doubt her love for him. A woman who couldn’t deny she had dreamed of being intimate with his best friend, not just on the two occasions he knew of, but on numerous occasions in the past.
Brianne closed her eyes and was instantly swamped with guilt again, and not just because she’d dreamed of Gabe, or because Eric had felt compelled to call off the wedding, but because Eric was right.
Part of her was relieved.
It made her feel selfish. Disloyal.
Confused!
“Hey,” said a deep, husky voice she knew all too well, and her stomach came alive with butterflies.
Gabe.
She’d been so entrenched in her tormented thoughts she hadn’t even heard him walking up to her. Not that she would have heard him a
pproach, anyway, in the sand. But she normally felt him before she saw him. Strange, but true. Then again, considering her dreams about him…maybe not so strange. She swiped her hand over her face, making sure any stray tears were wiped away.
“Hi,” she said, looking up at him in the inky dark. As always, he was tall and rugged and handsome. Half gladiator, half movie-star, with a little bit of Greek god thrown in for good measure. Black hair that was just a little too long, deep green eyes fringed with long lashes, cheekbones so defined that they could cut glass, and a muscular, athletic body that was the stuff of any woman’s wet dream.
It was just unfortunate that at least two of my dreams had to include audio.
He was Eric’s best friend. He was her friend. And the poor guy had no idea he’d played the lead role in her super-hot, X-rated fantasies.
“I don’t want to be rude, but I really would like to be alone,” she said, turning her attention back to the ocean.
“Bri, you couldn’t be rude even if you tried,” he said, a wry smile curling up his luscious lips as he sat down next to her, their bodies not quite touching. She watched as he slid his feet out of his dress shoes and pulled his socks off, digging his toes in the sand.
She wasn’t surprised he’d ignored her stated desire to be left alone. As charming as she knew he could be, Gabe was at heart a pig-headed and ruthless man. Unlike she and Eric, he hadn’t come from money. Gabe had grown up virtually parentless in a rough LA neighborhood and could have easily turned to drugs or crime but for the support he’d received from an older man who’d taught him to box. By the time he’d turned twenty-six, Gabe had left his old life behind, put himself through school, and started his own business. He was now the successful owner of several sports adventure stores, a wealthy man in his own right, and, as Bri’s assistant was fond of saying, sex on a stick.
Between the thudding of her heart and the pounding of the ocean, Brianne felt like the night had suddenly grown deafening. She took a few deep breaths as she looked up at the stars, idly sifting sand through her fingers, unsure if she should ask him to leave again, or if she should simply try to enjoy what might be the final moments she ever got to spend with him. She’d already lost Eric, her best friend in the whole world. Once Eric told Gabe the truth, she’d lose Gabe, too.
They sat that way for a while, and to her surprise, the silence gradually switched from awkward to comfortable. How ironic that of all the people who had attended her non-wedding, Gabe had the power to make her feel better with his presence alone.
Finally, she heard him sigh. He shifted, stretching his legs out in front of him. He tilted his head to look up at the sky, and she studied his strong profile.
“I’ve heard that when a star dies, it can take thousands of years for its light to burn out so we can’t see it on Earth anymore,” he commented, almost to himself.
She held her breath, trying to quash the tears that threatened to erupt again. It was obvious he was referring to the fact she hadn’t seen the demise of her relationship with Eric coming.
Brianne allowed herself to hope. Maybe it was because of Gabe’s presence, so near that she could feel the heat coming from his body. Anything seemed possible when he was around.
Maybe she didn’t have to lose Eric or Gabe. When Eric returned, she’d do whatever it took to convince him they belonged together. Gabe would never know she’d fantasized about him. After all, Eric was too much of a gentleman to say anything. Her secret could stay a secret—so long as she was willing to let Eric take the blame for this disastrous night all on his own.
She just didn’t think she could do that.
“Our star burned out a while ago, and I was clinging to that light,” she murmured, into the darkness. She took a deep, shaky breath, and continued. “I didn’t see it. Or I guess I just didn’t want to see it.”
Gabe took a deep breath, shifting slightly closer to her in the sand. She wished he would touch her, give her a little comfort, but hadn’t she already gotten into enough trouble because of him—or, rather, her subconscious feelings for him?
She glanced over and noticed that he was still wearing his boutonniere, a single calla lily. The sight upset her even more.
“I’ll never get it, will I?” she exploded as her frustration and hurt burst out of her. “I keep failing. Twice now, I’ve had my chance at love, and things haven’t worked out. I’m the common denominator in both situations; it has to be me.” A sob escaped her throat, and she put her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her grief.
“Hey,” Gabe said, his brow furrowing at her words. He put his fingers under her chin so she couldn’t look away. “Stop that right now,” he said, quiet but firm. “You’re not a failure. I won’t listen if you’re going to talk that way. Shit, Bri, you’re a beautiful, intelligent woman, and things just haven’t worked out for you yet.”
The way his fingers touched her skin, so firmly, so gently, sent an unwilling shiver down her spine. She smiled sadly, inwardly touched by his vehemence. “Please don’t tell me that everything works out for a reason. Mom already told me that three times today, and so did my brother, a few of my cousins and an aunt. If you try and make me swallow it, too, I won’t be able to stand it.”
She tugged her chin away from his fingers and shifted into a semi-cross-legged position.
Gabe’s eyes lowered, taking in her tanned knee and smooth thigh exposed by her hitched skirt, but almost immediately snapped back to her face. His eyes seemed to sparkle even more than usual in the darkness.
Cheeks flaming, she tugged her skirt down, then felt stupid. Gabe had seen her in her bathing suit often enough. A bit of thigh wouldn’t get him hot and heavy. That look had just been a trick of the night.
A second stretched between them, until he finally spoke.
“I’m not going to feed you a line of bull. Hell, I don’t know if everything will work out the way it’s meant to, whatever the hell that might mean, but I do know that you’re going to be okay.”
“How is that different?” she demanded, her voice barely audible over the surf.
He looked at her steadily. “Because you will be okay, Bri, no matter what happens next. But you can’t leave it up to fate. You have to make it happen. Put yourself first. Figure out what you really want. What will make you happy.” He shifted away from her, like he felt uncomfortable suddenly. As though he knew, somewhere deep inside, the role he’d played in her non-wedding. As if he knew how confused he made her.
She felt cold at the absence of his closeness, but a warm glow began to flow over her skin when he took her hand in his, his fingers brushing her thigh as he did.
“Remember when we met?” he asked, looking out over the water.
His rugged profile was backlit against the lights coming from the reception behind them. He seemed to be deliberately keeping his eyes away from her, even as his thumb ran back and forth over her knuckles. It was difficult to concentrate on his question when all she could think about was the feel of his thumb on her skin.
“Of course,” Bri said with a smile. “We walked on the beach.”
“And you wondered how many people the ocean was touching at the same time. And what their problems were. You said your problems probably paled in comparison.”
She laughed softly. “Wow. Did you take dictation when I wasn’t looking?”
“No. I just never forgot it.”
She almost missed Gabe’s words, the noise from the reception and the waves on the sand nearly drowning them out. He spoke softly, like he didn’t want her to hear.
“So what are you trying to say? That I should dip my toes in the water and remember how small my problems are in comparison to the rest of the world?”
“Maybe.” He grinned at her.
“You’re just full of wisdom tonight,” she smirked.
“I’m only trying to help, is all. I hated seeing you sitting out here alone.”
Brianne sighed. He was the last person she should be snipping
at. “I’m sorry for being sarcastic.”
He shrugged it off. “Can you stand just one more bit of fortune cookie wisdom tonight?”
“I’ll try to stomach it.” Really, she wanted to be with him. It didn’t matter what he said, as long as he was there.
“I’ve known you, what, six years?” he continued. “A long time. And you’ve always put others first. I mean, my God. You’re a charity event coordinator.”
She listened to him talk, the deep timbre of his voice soothing and exciting at the same time. She’d always loved listening to him speak, always had to stop herself from hanging on his every word when she and Eric were with him. She had to focus hard on what he was saying, rather than simply enjoying the sound.
Brianne blushed, aware that Gabe’s assessment was in line with how most people saw her—as some ridiculous do-gooder who was always getting involved in other people’s business. The truth was, she was the daughter of a billionaire; she had her own trust fund and the ability to buy herself whatever she wanted. She splurged on silly things just like everyone else.
“I’m no saint,” she protested. “You just see me the way you want to see me.”
“Bri, I see you,” he said, looking intently into her eyes. “It’s time to step up and be the star in your own life, and then maybe you’ll get that happily ever after you want. But even if you don’t, at least you’re being you for your own sake. Go after what you want and let the rest of us fend for ourselves for a bit.” He squeezed her hand.
“Thanks, Gabe,” she said softly.
“You’re welcome,” he said, and leaned in to kiss her cheek.
She stiffened, not with unease, but with intense awareness. His mouth made her skin tingle, just as his thumb had when it stroked her hand. Heat radiated from him, and his cologne was intoxicating. She closed her eyes, sinking into the sensation.