by Kasey Lane
“And here’s the man behind the voice,” Alma said as she squeezed his hand. “The one taking care of my baby girl.”
“I think everyone knows that Gabby can take care of herself,” he said, compelled to defend Gabby. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Alvarez.”
“The pleasure is all—”
“What are you doing here?” Gabby’s voice was a sharp slap, each word clear and distinct. “What happened to rehab?”
“Oh, you know how it goes, mija. I’m fine. Totally clean and sober. Can I get a cup a coffee?” She hefted a large duffel bag on her shoulder. “This is getting pretty heavy.”
“No,” Gabby barked. “You can’t be here. You have to leave.” Gabby held her body stiffly. When Alma reached for her hand, Gabby yanked her arm back, as if touching her mother would scald her like a spilled pot of boiling water.
“Whoa. Can’t a mother give her only child some love?”
“What do you want, Alma? No, never mind.” Gabby walked to the door and pulled it open again. “I don’t care what you want. Please. Leave. Now.”
Ignoring Gabby, Alma turned to Bowen. “See how she treats me? It’s no wonder she’s always alone. Is this how you treat your girlfriend’s mother?” She raised her lined brows.
“Look, ma’am, she’s been through a lot and you showing up here when she thought you were in jail or treatment is kind of overwhelming. Maybe…”
“Maybe nothing. Get out, Alma. I don’t want to see you or hear your lies.”
“I just need a place to stay tonight until I get back on my feet. Just a night or two.” Her mother’s smile was cracking.
“No! He can’t have you here. Bowen could get in big trouble,” Gabby yelled. Her eyes widened, probably shocked that she’d shared any kind of personal information with her mother. “There are already two of us in a one-bedroom apartment,” she said in a more even tone. “How did you find me anyway?”
Alma’s lips formed a cruel smile. “You said he lived in your building. Your address was on the last wire you sent me. It’s not like you were hiding from me, right?”
But Alma Alvarez wasn’t stupid; she wasn’t going to ignore Gabby’s reference to trouble. She’d survived on the streets, on her own for over two and half decades. “Well, we wouldn’t want anyone to get in trouble, would we? How about Mama just stays a couple nights and no one will ever know?” The older woman walked over to the couch and dropped her bag on the floor next to it.
Oh, fucking hell no. This shit was not going down. He wasn’t letting some two-bit drunk who didn’t care enough about herself, let alone her only child, get away with blackmailing him into staying there. One long step and he was at the couch, picking up her bag. “Actually, I’m not concerned about getting in hot water. But I am concerned about Gabby’s safety. And you aren’t a safe person for her—”
“I’m her fucking mother. Of course, I’m safe for her.”
Gabby pulled her mom from the couch a lot less gently than she deserved. “Go back to rehab. Complete treatment for once. Stay sober. Keep one single promise. Just one. Then maybe we can talk. Until then I can’t see you.” Gabby’s green eyes glittered with unshed tears. A balloon of pain bloomed in his chest for her.
She dragged her mother to the door. Alma’s eyes narrowed as she turned to face them. “You’ve always been a selfish brat. Me, me, me. I gave you everything and the one time I’m asking for help you turn me away.”
Bowen tugged his leather billfold from his back pocket and gave her all the cash he had—over six hundred dollars from work the day before. “Take this. There are a number of well-priced hotels in Tigard. Then go back to rehab. Or don’t. But don’t come back here until you’re serious about cleaning your life up.”
Alma’s shoulders slumped and she suddenly looked tiny and tired. She gave a watery smile. “It just never works. I try. And it’s just too hard.”
“I know it is. Believe me, I know. But until you at least consider the real possibility of change, she’s never going to let you in.”
“What do you know about it?”
Gabby shot between them and yanked the door all the way open. “He knows everything about it, Mom. Lots of people do it every day. They get their lives back or make new ones. They crack themselves wide open and then they rebuild themselves. If you loved me enough…no, if you loved yourself enough you could do it, too.” Gabby took a deep breath and locked eyes with her mother. “But until then we’re done.” Her ferocity surprised him. Not that she was passionate, but that she was defending him in such a strong way. Like he mattered. To her.
He should talk to her about that. Let her know he appreciated it, but they still weren’t a thing. Couldn’t be. And he didn’t want to. Not just yet because he kind of liked that thick syrupy feeling in his chest. He wanted to hold on to it for just a moment. Savor the feeling and memorize it for later.
And then Gabby shut the door with a quiet whoosh and click that sounded a lot more final than it should have.
*
Gabby tried to untangle the mess of code on her laptop screen, but the cacophony of spring colors kept drawing her eye to the trees lining the parking lot below. She loved Portland weather. She especially loved fall and spring in the Pacific Northwest. California had been lovely, but the weather was predictable and colorless.
Thinking about California led her back to the issue of her mother. They hadn’t heard from Alma since Gabby had very literally shut the door on her two days before, but she wasn’t naive enough to think her mother would just fade into the night like the blood-sucking vampire she was. She and Bowen had spent the rest of Monday volunteering at the center and then stayed for movie night where Bowen had joined in the sing-along.
Apparently, she’d been staring at him open-mouthed because Jami walked by and pressed her chin up. “That man of yours is something else.”
“He’s not my man,” she answered but continued to watch as he belted out “Reindeers are better than people,” while a group of sugar-juiced kids dog-piled him. By the time Demi Lovato sang “Let it Go,” a particularly shy six-year-old had climbed up into his lap on the floor. Jami laughed as she walked out of the room and into the center’s industrial kitchen.
Ten minutes later, Jami walked into the A/V room carrying apples and yogurt for everyone, neatly arranged in perfect little cupcake liners. She handed one to Bowen and Ali, the dark-haired little girl in his lap and then plopped down next to Gabby.
“Dude, I think my ovaries just exploded,” Jami said and pointed to Bowen.
Gabby couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t even pretend that he wasn’t getting to her, wasn’t drilling down into her frozen heart with his warmth. So she nodded. “Mmm hmm.”
“You’re totally screwed.”
“Yep. Pretty much.”
“Pretty much, what?” Bowen was standing next to the old donated couch, with one of the newer residents hanging from his neck, draped over his back.
“Your singing is pretty much hurting my ears, pretty boy.” He dropped the boy down on the floor, who tackled two other young boys before being led off to bed.
“We all know you’re lying, Gabby.” He leaned forward and his lips brushed the top of her ear sending shivers down her arms and lust pooling in her core. “Don’t make me punish you later, little one.”
Yeah. She was pretty much screwed. He whispered into her ear and suddenly she was wet and her legs felt shaky. And her face heated like it was summer in California and not spring in Oregon. But, strangely, she didn’t feel the need to run from him, or hurl insults until she put him back in his place. Nope. She wanted to throw herself into him, feel his hand wide on her ass or running up her spine just before he wrapped her ponytail in his hand.
Shaking her head, she pushed against his chest with her hands. Playfully, but he still barely budged. And yet even that small action seemed wrought with deeper meaning. Every time she touched him, or he touched her, it seemed to tighten their connection, added another layer
.
Once they made it back to the apartment that night they nearly hadn’t made it into the living room before he tore down her leggings and fucked her over the arm of his couch.
She sighed and sipped her coffee before she heard the screen slide open behind her and she smelled his freshly washed body before she heard him speak. She smiled. To herself, of course. She didn’t need bossy Bowen knowing she liked the way he smelled, fresh from the shower or otherwise.
His warm hand landed on her shoulder and his lips pressed to her crown before he flopped into the chair next to her. She handed him her cold toast and nudged her coffee cup his way before he had a chance to steal either.
“Ah, submission, at last.” He smirked before shoving the burnt, dry bread into his mouth.
“Sure. Whatever you say.” She kept her eyes glued to her screen. He would be shirtless despite the cold air—he usually was. And she didn’t need the distraction of his near-perfect body, covered in all that ink.
“So, I was thinking…”
“Aw, that’s so cute.”
He laughed and took a sip of her coffee. “Let’s do something fun today. No work. No stressing about McNeil or your mom.”
She looked up from her computer to see him nervously waiting for her answer. “Like what? A movie or something?”
“Have you been to Oaks Park yet?” She shook her head. “It’s this old, kinda cheesy amusement park. I used to take Kevan there when we were kids.”
Was he asking her on a date? Did she want to go on a date with him?
She kind of did, she thought with surprise.
“It’ll just be a nice day out for a couple of friends.”
Well, that answered that. She tried hard to keep her face from falling. For the first time in her life she wanted to walk around an old park and have a handsome man hold her hand.
Bowen was pretty hands-on so he might actually do that, but it wouldn’t be the same.
Same as what?
Same as being there with someone…someone special. Someone who wanted more than just a fun interlude. Someone who wanted more than just sex. Or to protect her from a crazy ex-foster father.
Gabby knew the smartest thing she could possibly do at this very precarious point would be to find an excuse to not go. But since Roland’s property manager had called yesterday with news of an opening the following week and since Bowen would be going on tour with Manix Curse soon she knew their time was coming to an end. She couldn’t help wanting to spend these last few days and hours with him. And her boss had made it clear she could be flexible with her time while she relocated. Maybe it was her greedy, selfish nature… Maybe it was something more. Something she didn’t care to look at… Not quite yet.
Whatever it was, she decided to ignore all the red flags popping up in her head. She decided to give herself this one day with him. She decided to say yes.
Although he only said “cool,” in a very even tone, a wide grin spread across his face, making her chest feel weird and her heart grow just a little swollen.
“Yeah.”
It was then she realized that she was going to miss this time with Bowen, the two of them alone in their own little world. And not only that, it occurred to her that somewhere along the line it had become about more than sex for her. She didn’t quite know what to do with the weird mixture of feelings rolling around in her chest, intertwined and confused with sex and fear and lust and affection.
Other than a low level of constant fear, she wasn’t familiar with any of these things let alone a big ball of them.
“I need to catch a quick meeting then we can take off, okay?”
She smiled and nodded, hoping he couldn’t see all her emotions playing out on her face. “Sure, sounds good.” She looked down at her computer and tried to act casual, unaffected. “I can get some work in while I wait.”
But, the truth was, she thought as he grabbed his sweatshirt, was that she was anything and everything other than unaffected. The truth was that she really was screwed because she had gone and fallen for bad boy Bowen Landry.
Chapter Seventeen
Bowen’s Wednesday morning meeting was both motivating and a little depressing. Motivating because the speaker had been in recovery for over twenty years and depressing because one of the new kids Bowen had taken to coffee a couple times had gone back out on a week-long bender that had ended in handcuffs and probable jail time.
The idea that he could very easily be in that kid’s shoes haunted him and reminded him that his focus was getting a little blurry. He fully realized he was walking a thin line with the recent changes in his life. Gabby needed his help, but she didn’t necessarily need him to screw her. He should be helping her find a new place, after McNeil was captured, of course, and he should be working more hours to pay his sister and her husband back. Instead he was spending more time with Gabby and less time at the shop.
He knew the right thing to do was refocus and get back on track and, yet, he couldn’t wait to get back to her. Even though he knew the deeper in he took her the harder her fall would be when he walked away.
After the meeting ended he grabbed his jacket and tossed his paper coffee cup in the trash before heading for the door of the old community center rec room. Walking toward his motorcycle he nodded at some friends as he wondered idly why he’d out of the blue decided to invite Gabby on a date.
Well, not technically a date, but it sure came close to one. Two people who were having sex and spending time together going out somewhere to hang out and have fun together sure sounded like a date. If it looks like beer and smells like beer then it’s probably not orange juice.
Whatever it was, they were in for a fun day. Although the air was cool, except for a few passing rain clouds, the sky was stunningly blue, making everything shimmer and sparkle under the sun. The dogwoods and cherry trees seemed to be in cahoots and were flowering together this year, making the world look like a beautiful Japanese painting. He hated Portland in the winter because of all the dreary rain and gray skies, but he loved it in the spring.
“Hey, Bowen, wait up,” a familiar voice called to him as he started to throw his helmet on. Dammit. Just another ten seconds and he would’ve been on his way back to Gabby.
His sponsor, an older man in his mid-fifties with a potbelly and a balding head and thinning ponytail, walked up. He was breathing hard though he hadn’t been running and Bowen had been less than two hundred feet into the parking lot.
“Monty. Good to see you. What’s up?” He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“Yeah, buddy, that’s kind of the point.” Monty wheezed one more time and pulled out a red inhaler, taking a puff before continuing. “You seem to always be in a rush.”
“What do you mean? I have an appointment.”
“I mean, you seem to always be running off in one direction or another. And you missed our coffee date last week.”
“Ah, buddy, are you bummed about our date? I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He clapped his sponsor and friend on the shoulder. “But I have a date with a much prettier woman.”
“Bowen,” Monty said quietly, grabbing his forearm and halting his movement to put his helmet on. “I’m worried that is the real problem.”
“What does that mean?” Bowen asked, beginning to feel like maybe Monty was accusing him of something, something that made Bowen a little edgy and a lot defensive.
“Look, it just seems like I haven’t seen you at a lot of meetings lately. You don’t call me as often. And now you’re getting involved with some girl.”
“Whoa. Not some girl. Gabby is a friend and a neighbor. And she needed some help. I’m helping her.”
“By going on a date?”
“Hey, I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m going to meetings. And I do call you, just not five times a week. I read my book, practice the steps. I do the next right thing. And I don’t ever drink or use. No matter what. I deserve a life, don’t I?”
>
The old man nodded as people flowed into the parking lot, avoiding them. “Yes, but you’ve worked so hard. I’d hate to see it fall apart so easily.”
A little thread of discomfort began to wind its way through his thoughts, mixing with the growing knot of anger in his chest. “I’m still working hard, Monty. I’m just helping out a friend.”
“Okay, okay.” Monty patted his arm. “I don’t want to lose you, man. And hooking up with a girl, with your history, is probably not the smartest move on your part, but you gotta do what you gotta do.”
His temper began to cool. Monty was his friend, his mentor, but learning to believe someone other than his sister wanted good things for Bowen was difficult to digest. He was still always looking for the other person’s angle. “Thank you. I’m being careful and we’re both clear about where this all ends. She’s a cool chick. But, hey, I did want to get together and talk about something.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. My friend Conner’s band has asked me to join them on the road for a couple months.”
“The kid who had the motorcycle accident?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure if I’m ready for life on the road, you know?” Bowen pulled his sweatshirt over his head. Gabby would be there soon.
“I do. We can talk later, get coffee soon, if you want. But do you want to go with them?”
Bowen shrugged. “I do and I don’t. Honestly, I’m not sure I can handle it all.”
“The booze? The girls?”
“I guess. I seem to have all that handled, but I mean the attention, the pressure. This is a big tour. They’re opening for Pagan Saints.”
Monty’s eyes widened. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Well, you love music and you’re pretty damn good at it. If you can keep your side of the street clean and stay out of trouble, it could be really good for you. But what about this girl? She’s cool with you taking off?”