Then he said the two words he hadn’t spoken in these months. The words that haunted him, because of everything that had been left unsaid between them—because of those five years between now and the last time he saw her, because of what he did that drove them apart. “Emma’s dead.”
Nikki sat in her parents’ living room, watching the steady rise and fall of her mother’s chest. Her mother had been asleep on the couch when she got home, and her father hadn’t had the heart to wake her up. He was now shuffling around in the kitchen, doing Lord knows what. The house was comfortable, but her mother was bundled up under several soft blankets.
Nikki had read that one of the many side effects of chemo was feeling cold. Not everyone felt that. Some only experienced it when they were receiving chemo, but her mom seemed to get this side effect, among others.
She looked away as she sat back in the old recliner, pulling her legs up so her knees pressed into her chest.
Emma was dead.
That had been a shock to Nikki. She’d always assumed that Emma was still alive. And when he said Baton Rouge, she automatically and understandably assumed that was why he was looking for a place there.
Because Emma was there.
But Emma was . . . she was dead.
Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rested her chin on her knees and closed her eyes. Gabe and Emma reconnected five years ago. A year before she left for college, and if she really thought hard about it, Gabe had definitely been moodier during that time, staying home and drinking more. The only time he’d seemed to be like his old self was when he was working.
And the morning after she’d come to him, before he’d been fully awake, he’d called her Emma. He’d been in love with Emma then and there was still a part of him that was in love with her now.
Nikki was . . . she was happy that he’d confided in her. It was obvious that Gabe needed to talk to someone, and she almost couldn’t believe it was her. That was a huge deal. A big one, and God help her, she couldn’t stop the sorrow rising and she couldn’t stop the feeling of disappointment.
And she knew that the latter signaled something in her that was just like Gabe. He’d spent how many years thinking he and Emma would find their way back to one another? She really was no different than Gabe. Even as foolish and pointless and utterly hopeless as it was, there was still a part of her that . . . that cared for him more than she should.
That wasn’t breaking news, though.
But if the conversation today proved anything to her, she needed to do exactly what Rosie had said, which was to proceed with caution.
Gabe wasn’t still in love with a woman who didn’t want him. He was in love with a ghost, and no one could compete with that.
Chapter 18
Gabe was watching Nic.
Again.
He was doing that a lot lately. So much so, he was beginning to wonder if he had a problem. It was Thursday night and it was getting late. She should be on her way home soon since it wasn’t like she lived around the corner.
Maybe he’d start bringing her here after work and then dropping her off on the way home. It would be safer that way. Smarter. He should definitely offer that to her.
He thought about what her father would think of that, and instead of cringing, he grinned at the thought.
Something . . . something had changed in Gabe after talking to Nic about Emma. As fucking cliché as it sounded, he felt lighter.
Lucian was right when he said that maybe Gabe needed to talk about Emma. The last couple of nights he actually slept the whole way through. Freaking miracle right there.
Nic was looking around, the corners of her lips turned down. Then her gaze swept up to the shelving against the back wall. Setting the bead and chisel aside, she rose, dusting her hands off.
“Is that the saw up there?” She pointed at the top shelf.
“Yeah. You need it?”
She crossed the room. “I can get it.”
Swallowing a laugh, he rose from where he sat. There was no way she was going to reach that shelf. Not when she was compact size basically.
But there she was, stretching up on the tips of her toes, straining for the handle of the saw as she gripped one of the lower shelves.
“You’re going to end up pulling that whole shelf down on you.” He walked over to her. “Here.” He reached around her at the same time she settled back on her feet.
Gabe didn’t know what happened.
One second he was reaching for the saw and then the next, his front was against her back as she stumbled into him.
“Whoa,” he said, his hand landing on her hip.
In an instant, the air around them seemed to spit fire. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them moved, and then Nic shifted, pressing her rear against him.
Sweet Jesus.
His jaw clenched as pure primal lust pounded through his veins. Did she do that on purpose? Hell if it mattered. He looked down at her, seeing her chest rise and fall heavily, straining against the front of her shirt. His head dipped and he inhaled deeply, catching the strawberry scent of hers.
Christ.
His body practically surrounded hers, but her mere closeness overpowered him. He should back off. He should definitely get his hand off her damn hip.
He didn’t do either of those things.
His thoughts clouded as the smallest shudder coursed through her. Gabe’s brain clicked off. His hand tightened on her hip as his arm flexed, tugged her back with just the slightest amount of pressure. Fuck. His blood caught fire. She fit perfectly against him. Better yet, she felt perfect against him.
Took no effort to picture himself spinning her around and bending her over the bench. Except nothing would be between them as he slipped his hand between her thighs and pounded into—
Holy fuck, that line of thought was not helping. At all. But could she feel him? How fucking hard he was against the cleft of her ass?
Then he felt her shiver. Full-bodied shiver. Her head turned to the side, and he waited for her to pull away or push him away. To do something. She didn’t. Nic stood there while her ass practically cradled his dick, letting him . . .
Letting him do what exactly?
Dry-hump her ass? Gabe swallowed a groan, because right about now that sounded amazing. And when was the last time he dry-humped a woman? Shit. When he was a teen? Hell, he knew there was a good chance he could come doing just that.
He felt her take her next breath. “Have you . . . got the saw yet?”
His eyes drifted shut. So, they were going to pretend like his dick wasn’t pressing against her ass? All right. He could do that. He could pretend. “Not yet.”
She placed her hands on the lower shelf, and yeah, he realized right then, he wouldn’t need to turn her around. He could make this work just as well. “Do you need help?”
Yeah, he needed help.
Primal instinct told him that she would let him do just about anything right then, and that instinct had nothing to do with their past. Not a damn thing.
Nic’s hips moved again, this time in the smallest damn circle, and he had to wonder if she was even aware she was doing it or what it was doing to him.
He needed to stop this before he fucking came in his jeans.
His hand tightened on her hip as he reached up, grabbing the saw off the top shelf. He let himself have one more moment, one more breath of the air she breathed, and then he started to act like he had at least an ounce of common decency left in him.
“Sorry,” he bit out, voice gruff as he backed off. “Lost my balance there.”
“It’s okay.” Her face was ten different shades of pink as she faced him. She lifted her hand. It trembled. “Thank you.”
He nodded as he turned and made his way back to the workbench. Sitting wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be doing, but that’s what he did.
Fuck.
He couldn’t even pretend anymore—couldn’t lie to himself.
It wasn’t his d
ry spell that had him rocking a hard-on every time he was near Nic. It was her.
His gaze found its way to her.
Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, she glanced over and sent him a small, tentative smile as her fingers around the saw remained steady.
The little smile went straight to his cock.
He didn’t smile back. He was beyond that. His entire body was taut and strained. He wanted her. Under him. On him. In front of him. On her knees. And with his head between her thighs. He wanted her every which way he could think and damn, he had an active imagination.
Lust, pure and simple, was a powerful drug.
He watched her go back to carving the tiny piece of wood. Would he go down that road with her?
Gabe didn’t need to really ask himself that.
He already knew the answer.
Later that night, Nikki lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Her body and mind were traitorous bitches, replaying the evening over and over again in her head.
My God, what had happened between them?
Something had. There was no denying what she felt pressed against her rear.
Her stomach twisted and lower, much lower, she clenched as she drew her legs up, bending at the knees.
Hours later and Nikki could still feel his hand on her hip. It was like he’d branded her with his touch. And the way his hand tightened and pulled her back?
“God,” she whispered, pressing her thighs together. That did nothing to alleviate the ache building between her thighs. It actually made it worse. So much worse.
Gabe had to have known what he was doing. There was no way. Just like she’d known what she had been allowing by standing there, letting him press into her.
They both pretended like nothing was happening, but he’d wanted her. She could feel that. And oh Lordy Lord, as reckless and dumb as it made her, she wanted him still.
Badly.
Except now she at least had a working knowledge of what wanting him entailed. She might’ve only had sex with him and Calvin, but she knew what it could feel like.
The tips of her breasts hardened as she closed her eyes. Her thoughts got away from her, and she was back in that workshop with Gabe, all big and strong, standing behind her, pressing into her.
What if he’d pushed on her back, bending her over? Nikki sucked in a shallow breath. Would she have stopped him? She knew the answer as her hand slipped between the covers tangled at her waist. She wouldn’t have stopped him. She would’ve spread her legs, just as she was doing now, giving him more access to do . . . to do whatever he wanted.
Her fingers inched under the band of her bottoms. She was wet. She already knew that as she touched herself. She’d been so wet just standing in front of him tonight, letting him . . .
Nikki’s jaw clenched as she slipped a finger inside and pressed her palm against her most sensitive part.
Just a fantasy.
What she was doing meant nothing and she knew that there wasn’t anything real between them, not when he was in love with a woman who was no longer here.
Just a fantasy.
In her mind, it was Gabe’s hand replacing hers. It was his hand she was thrusting against, his fingers she was clenching around as he stood behind her, pressing his hardness into her as he worked her with his hand.
It didn’t take long.
Muscles tightened and tension coiled deep in her core. Her legs locked as her fingers pumped faster and faster. She twisted, pressing her face into her pillow as she came.
Panting, she fell back against the mattress and opened her eyes. Moments passed as she pulled her hand away. Her legs were limp, but she still felt . . . empty.
She exhaled slowly. A part of her couldn’t believe she just did that. Not like it was her first time, but she never let herself picture Gabe. Not after that night.
But it was just a fantasy and fantasies were okay. They were safe. Healthy even. Fantasies weren’t real.
Chapter 19
It was Friday afternoon when Gabe entered the kitchen, his arrival like clockwork. In his hand, he carried what appeared to be a straight strawberry smoothie.
“Hey.” Tossing the thick braid over her shoulder, she closed the fridge door and placed the pack of meat on the counter. “That for me?”
“Of course.” He met her at the island, handing it over. “It’s your favorite. Boring. But whatever.”
“Boring is good.” She grinned as she took the smoothie from him. Their fingers brushed. His were rough and sent a jolt up her arm. Nikki stepped back. She’d been careful not to touch him since the . . . incident at his workshop. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He lowered his hand and backed off, hopping up on one of the stools. “So, what’s for dinner?”
“You’re actually joining Devlin?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
She tugged the paper off the straw, tossing it into the trash. Gabe hadn’t been attending dinner since the first week she’d been here. Lucian and Julia sporadically joined, but when they did, they got their own food. There hadn’t been any more dinners that Nikki had been invited to.
“Lamb is on the menu.” Glancing over her shoulder at the meat, she curled her lip. “Ew.”
“Lamb is tasty.” He spread his thighs, hooking his bare feet on the bottom of the stool.
She shook her head. “Lambs are too cute to eat.”
A grin appeared as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, placing it on the island. “And I’m guessing you don’t find cows cute, because you have no problem eating them. Or chickens.”
“Cows and chickens are cute, but I choose to not think about them while I’m eating them.” When he arched a brow, she grinned. “Don’t question my logic.”
“Would never dare to do so.” He trailed a finger along the edge of the island. “So, you got any big plans this weekend?”
Actually she did.
And it wasn’t finishing the beads for her mother’s bracelet, either. Shocker. Her belly flipped and then flopped. “I’m going to look at an apartment later.”
“You found one?” Genuine interest filled his tone.
She nodded, having kept him up to date on her apartment search. “It’s nice and in a good area, just outside of the city. I hope it’s the one. Don’t get me wrong. I love being back with my parents, but living with them is not exactly what I thought I’d be doing when I’m about to turn twenty-three.”
He grinned. “Well, I’m not going to judge. All of us are still living here, at the family home.”
“That’s different. This place is so big, a whole family could move in and you guys would never know,” she reasoned, taking a sip of her smoothie. “Besides, you all have your own apartments. You don’t have to see anyone unless you want to, where if I stay out past eleven I feel like I’m sixteen sneaking back into my parents’ house.”
Gabe laughed. “I’m crossing my fingers for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Got anything else planned?”
She did. Turning from Gabe, she took her smoothie back to the counter. “I . . . I have a date tomorrow night.”
Silence.
Telling herself not to, she didn’t listen and looked over her shoulder at Gabe. His expression—yikes. His face was harsh. It kind of scared her. “Um, my friend Rosie set me up on a date.”
His hand stilled along the kitchen island. “So, it’s a blind date?”
“Yeah.” She turned away and moved down a foot. Bending, she opened the cabinet and pulled out a large roasting pan.
“Is that safe?”
She kind of thought that was a weird question. “Rosie knows him, and I trust her. She wouldn’t fix me up on a date with a creep.”
“What’s his name?” His tone was flat, like he didn’t believe what she said, which was ridiculous, because he’d never met Rosie.
Though the idea of Rosie meeting any of the de Vincents made her grin. Especially Devlin.
&nb
sp; “His name is Gerald.” She placed the pan on the counter. “I doubt you know him.”
“Gerald?” He laughed loudly. “What kind of name is that?”
She twisted at the waist, her brows lifting. “It’s a name.”
He smirked. “Sounds like an old man’s name.”
“You’re an old man,” she retorted.
“Not old enough to be named Gerald.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “We’re going to Crescent City.”
“Crescent City?”
“There is nothing wrong with Crescent City. They have amazing steaks and I love their French fries.”
“I’d at least take you to Morton’s. You’d love their fries.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Sorry. Morton’s is not on most people’s budget. Anyway, we’re just grabbing dinner. So, whatever.”
He was silent for the moment. “You don’t sound very excited about your date with Gerald.”
“I’m excited.” That was the truth. Kind of. She was excited to go out and have a nice dinner and she was excited because she was meeting someone new. And after what happened between them at the shop, she really needed to meet someone.
Anyone other than him.
“Uh-huh.”
Shaking her head, she walked over to the spice cabinet. It was time to change the subject. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“Working. Don’t change the subject. I want to know more about Granddad Gerald.”
“Oh my God,” she laughed, turning around completely. “I’m pretty sure Gerald is my age, so knock it off, Pappy.”
Those stunning eyes were sharp as they focused on her, and she realized in that very second, something had changed. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but her senses were firing off left and right. “Didn’t realize you were looking to be in a relationship.”
“I didn’t say I was.”
He straightened. “Then why are you going out on a date?”
She stared at him, sort of struck speechless for a good half a minute. “Why do people go out on dates, Gabe?”
“To fuck?” he answered.
Whoa. That was not exactly where she was going with that train of thought, but hearing that come out of his mouth made her feel warm in areas that did not need to feel warm. At all. “I was going to say to meet new people, but I mean, I guess if that’s what happens, it happens.”
Moonlight Seduction: A de Vincent Novel (de Vincent series) Page 19