One Perfect Love

by Jessie Evans

  And now I am still alone, and I will remain that way until the day Gabe remembers the “whys” behind the “whats”—if he ever does.

  I push the panic-inducing thought aside. “I’ll bring the kids up in about thirty minutes. You want to order Dominos to be delivered to the room?”

  “Sure thing,” Sherry says. “And hang in there, okay? You and Gabe are going to work things out. Just give him some time to catch up.”

  “If he wants to catch up,” I mumble.

  “Stop it,” Sherry says. “I refuse to tolerate any negative thinking. Gabe is alive, and you two are going to have your happy ever after, or I swear I’ll eat a pound of dog poop.”

  “Gross.” I laugh, but it fades as soon as Emmie comes rushing over to get her hot pink water shooter from the pool bag.

  I can’t even look at my niece without my stomach knotting. I can’t lose Emmie; I can’t let Aoife take her away. There has been too much water under the bridge for me to ever trust Aoife with a child I love.

  Maybe if she had come back a few months after she left, when Emmie was sick with the flu, and I was home alone, terrified that my six-month-old niece was going to die of dehydration if I couldn’t keep fluids in her body. Or if Aoife had come home for Emmie’s first birthday, full of apologies, and begging me to go back to high school and complete my senior year one year late. Or maybe if she had just called a single damned time between the day she left, and the day she swept back in almost four years later. But she hadn’t called. She discarded Emmie like a toy she was tired of playing with, and it had taken her years to get around to showing interest in the baby girl she left behind.

  Meanwhile, Emmie has grown into an amazing little person who Danny, Ray, and Sean love like a sister, and I would die for in a heartbeat. I love her with every fiber of my being, and I have to believe that kind of love—the kind that stays and loves through the hard times, when loving costs you in blood, sweat, and tears—is worth more than the picture perfect suburban life Aoife is offering.

  “Especially since Aoife might get tired of that toy someday, too,” I say

  “Still talking to yourself, I see.”

  I sit up fast, spinning to see Gabe standing on the other side of the wrought iron fence surrounding the pool. As soon as my gaze meets his, I am filled with a profound sense of relief. In his eyes, I can see the same regret that has been poisoning my insides for the past few hours, the same longing to make this better, and find a way back to each other, no matter how many roadblocks stand in our way.

  “Hey.” I stand, crossing the hot concrete in bare feet, not missing the way his eyes skim up and down my body, making me glad I slipped into my yellow bikini instead of my one-piece swimsuit.

  For the first time since my last night with Gabe, electricity courses through my nerve endings making my blood rush and my belly flip and my fingers itch to fist in the course fabric of his white polo and rip it over his head, revealing the beautiful man beneath. I’m suddenly dying for another taste of his lips, for his Gabe smell swirling through my head, and his touch taking me higher than any drug. With just a look, Gabe can make me feel more than Isaac could with his hands all over my body. How could I have ever thought I could settle for less than that? Less than the rush I feel every time I’m in the same time zone as Gabe Alexander.

  Gabe’s lips part as if he’s about to speak, but I don’t give him a chance. I close the last few feet between us, take his face in my hands, and pull his lips down to mine. For a moment, I’m aware of the rungs of the metal gate, hot and hard between us, but then there is only Gabe’s tongue slipping between my lips, Gabe’s fingers driving into my hair, pulling me closer, kissing me with a thoroughness that takes my breath away.

  But who needs breath when there is a man who kisses me like I’m the most precious, irreplaceable thing in the world?

  I kiss him until my head spins and my belly aches and heat pools between my legs. I kiss him until my hands are shaking and my knees are weak and all I can think about is how much I need to be alone with him.

  “I don’t want to wait,” I whisper against his lips. “I know we should, but I want you too much.”

  “Should is a stupid word.” Gabe’s hands fist tighter in my hair, holding me captive as he trails kisses down my throat, where my pulse is racing like a horse set free before a storm. “And waiting is for people who haven’t had a year of their lives stolen. I found what I was looking for on my father’s computer, by the way.”

  “Yeah?” My breath rushes out, and I struggle to focus on his words instead of the delicious way he’s making me feel.

  “It was in his trash,” Gabe says, lips moving against my throat as he speaks. “He apparently never empties it. There were files in there from three years ago.”

  “What did you find?” I let my fingers play through his silky hair, over the scar that is thick and frightening, but beautiful because it is the reason he is alive.

  “A memo to his secretary, Charlene, detailing all the things he wanted her to get together for the funeral,” Gabe says. “Apparently, they actually held the thing in the back parlor, on the off chance you decided to ignore Dad’s letter and show up.” He pauses, his breath rushing out over my skin, before he presses another kiss to my cheek. “You were right. My parents are out of their minds. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

  I pull back far enough to look at him, not surprised to see hurt in his eyes. “I understand. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more patient. I know it can’t be easy learning your parents aren’t the people they pretend to be.”

  Gabe nods ever so slightly and his eyes drop to my lips. “I’d rather not talk about Aaron and Deborah right now, if that’s okay.”

  “What would you like to talk about?”

  “I’d prefer not to talk at all,” he says, the heat in his voice sending a thrill rushing across my skin. “I’d prefer to take you to my father’s office and get my mouth between your legs. I remember that time on the couch, you know.”

  “You do?” I ask, nipples tightening inside my bikini.

  “I remember the way you came on my mouth, with your hands fisted in my hair, pressing my face closer to your body,” he says in a soft, silky voice that sends heat rushing between my thighs. “I remember that you tasted like peaches sprinkled with salt and that you let me stay between your legs and stare at your pussy while we talked after. Before I made you come again.”

  My breath rushes out, but I find I can’t think of a thing to say.

  “And I remember that yours is the prettiest pussy, my favorite pussy.” His thumb trails over my shoulder down my arm, making me shiver. “And I’ve been dreaming about getting my tongue—”

  “Stop.” I take a step away from him, not surprised to find I’m trembling. “Don’t say another word, or I’m not going to be able to hold it together long enough to get the kids upstairs to the hotel room.”

  “Holding it together is overrated,” Gabe says, that wicked smile on his lips, the same one I remember from all the times he made me beg him for my pleasure before delivering on his promise to make me see stars.

  I smile up at him, fighting the urge to lunge for his lips and kiss him senseless all over again. If I start kissing him, I’m not going to stop until our clothes are off and his mouth is warm on my skin and his cock is hot in my hand and we are racing toward the edge of oblivion so fast we’re setting the brush at the side of the road on fire.

  “Give me five minutes,” I say in a husky voice, visions of me and Gabe, naked and entwined, filling my thoughts. “I’ll meet you at your car.”

  “I’m parked right next to the lobby,” he says. “And leave the bikini on under your clothes. I want to untie the strings with my teeth.”

  The words send a rush of desire sweeping through me, and for a second I think I’m going to faint for the second time in my life, only hours after fainting for the first. But instead I laugh, a laugh that is every bit as wicked as the gleam in Gabe’s eyes, and spin to rus
h back to my lounge chair.

  I get everyone out of the pool, dried off, and headed up to the room in record time, swinging by the exercise room on the way to tell a still-brooding Danny that supper will be arriving in fifteen to twenty minutes.

  “I won’t be there, so you’ll be free to enjoy your meal,” I say. “I’m going out with Gabe.”

  Danny turns on the weight bench where he’s been watching TV, making direct eye contact with me for the first time since we left the wake. “Good. You shouldn’t fight with him, Caitlin. He’s the only person who’s always been on our side, no matter what. You know that. He’s got your back like nobody else.”

  “I know,” I say, not ready to tell Danny that Gabe doesn’t remember everything about the night he saved my life, or necessarily approve of how far we went in the name of protecting the people we cared about.

  Danny and I have never discussed that night in detail, but he suspects that Gabe and I killed Pitt, and I know it would upset him if he thought Gabe wasn’t the same Gabe anymore. Danny hated Gabe at first, but by the end of last summer, my brother had a pretty decent case of hero worship going where my boyfriend was concerned. Gabe wasn’t your typical role model, but I figured Danny could do worse than idolizing a man who would do anything to protect the people he loves.

  After this afternoon, I have hope that, with a little help, Gabe might be that man again very soon.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gabe

  “I have seen a medicine

  That’s able to breathe life into a stone.”

  -Shakespeare

  Visions of all the times Caitlin and I were naked together dance in front of my eyes as I guide the Beamer through the sleepy Sunday streets of downtown Giffney, headed for my father’s office. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but of all the things I’ve remembered about Caitlin so far, our time in bed has returned with the most clarity.

  “I can’t remember your birthday, but I remember fucking you in seven different positions,” I confess, because I’ve decided to be honest with her, even when it’s embarrassing, even when it’s hard. Realizing my parents are such accomplished liars made me determined to excel at telling the truth.

  Caitlin shifts in her seat as she turns to face me, causing the jean skirt she pulled on over her suit to ride up her tan thighs, and my blood pressure to spike. “It’s April tenth, the night we ran into each other at the club.”

  The words trigger a chain reaction in my brain, like dominos toppling in a line, and I suddenly remember. “We were dancing, and then you ran away…but I followed you and started talking to Sherry. She said it was your birthday, but you weren’t in the mood to party because…”

  I trail off, heart beating faster with excitement as more memories flood in. “That’s why we robbed that pawnshop. So you and the kids could keep the house.”

  “Yes!” She reaches out, squeezing my leg through my shorts, her excitement obvious in the way her fingers dig into my skin. “All the robberies were like that, Gabe. We robbed the people we found in your father’s old files, people who deserved to be in jail for the horrible things they’d done.”

  “And we put the money in your college fund,” I say. “Have you—”

  “I’ve already finished a year of my degree in social work,” she says pride in her voice. “I’m hoping to finish in another two years.”

  I smile. “So you decided to go for the big money career, huh?”

  “You know it,” she says, with a chuckle. “But seriously, I don’t need that much money to be happy, and I like the idea of helping kids that are in situations like the one I was in growing up. I certainly know what it’s like to be in their shoes.”

  I glance at her, hating myself for being so quick to judge her this afternoon. I should have known better. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Don’t be too proud. I haven’t graduated yet, and I’ve had…other things keeping me busy. Things I’m not so sure…” She trails off and her fingers tangle in her lap, the way they do when she’s nervous. I remember that. I’m remembering so much more quickly now that Caitlin is back in my life.

  “Tell me, please,” I urge. “This is helping me remember.”

  She sighs and glances down at her hands. “This isn’t about our history together, but you should probably know…” She looks back up and I feel her watching me as I take a left toward my father’s office. “I’ve been pulling jobs on the island, helping people in impossible situations.”

  The phrase sparks something in my brain. “Impossible situations?”

  “That’s what you said to me on my birthday last year,” she says. “That none of us know what we’re capable of until we find ourselves in an impossible situation. A situation that makes us think about the best way to use the time we’ve been given.” She pauses, adding in a softer voice as I pull into the parking lot behind my father’s office, “I remember the first night we came here. It seems like so much more than a year ago.”

  I guide the Beamer into my father’s reserved space and shut off the car, but I don’t unbuckle my belt or move to get out. “So you’ve been stealing from people?”

  She nods, but she doesn’t look at me. Her eyes are on the red door that leads up to my father’s second story office. “Just a few people so far. One man owed years of back child support, and another was blackmailing a woman into continuing their affair. The people they were hurting were in impossible situations and I guess…” She shifts her gaze, a naked look in her eyes that makes me want to pull her into my arms and kiss the furrow from between her brows. “I guess I was in an impossible situation, too.”

  I thread my fingers through hers, waiting for her to continue.

  “Trying to move on with my life without you was…so hard,” she says, a catch in her voice. “So much has happened. Awful things I should tell you, but I just…can’t right now. I’m not ready.”

  “We agreed we don’t like the word should.” I lift her hand to my lips and press a kiss to her soft skin. “Tell me when you’re ready. But I want you to know that I realize I was an asshole this afternoon. I’m in no place to judge anyone or anything. I’m stuck between who I was, who I thought I was, and who I want to be. I don’t know how everything is going to shake out, but I know I want to be with you when it does.”

  “Me too,” she says, eyes shimmering with emotion. “I want that more than anything.”

  “But I’m going to be honest with you,” I say. “I fucked about half of the town this summer. Any blonde between the ages of eighteen and twenty-eight who would let me follow her home from the bar.”

  Caitlin’s lips curve on one side in an unexpected smile. “Well, that’s very…you. Old you. Before me.” She narrows her eyes. “I hope you were careful.”

  “Wrapped up tighter than a Cuban cigar every time,” I say with a grin that fades quickly. “But none of them meant anything to me. Only one was even a friend, and it never got more serious than that. I called her this afternoon to tell her it was over.”

  “So you’re fresh from a breakup,” she says, brows drifting higher on her forehead.

  “It wasn’t like that. She was a place to hide, not a place to find the things I’ve been missing.”

  Caitlin nods, the tenderness in her expression making it clear she understands. But then, she seems to understand me better than anyone, maybe even better than I understand myself.

  “I was with someone, too,” she says. “Isaac and I were living together until a few days ago.”

  The way she says the name makes it clear I should remember this person, but I don’t. “Isaac is…an old boyfriend? Before us?”

  Caitlin blinks before she shakes her head. “Sorry, I forget. No, Isaac is an old friend from Giffney. You two met once. Big guy, very protective of me?” I shake my head, indicating the description still isn’t ringing a bell, and she continues with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter, but I think you liked him. Anyway…Isaac followed me to Maui a couple of months after the kids and I
left. Eventually we became a couple, but I never loved him the way he deserved to be loved. I broke things off right before we flew back for the funeral. I couldn’t live that…half life anymore.”

  I make a considering sound, fighting to keep the spark of jealousy in my chest from catching fire. “So you’re fresh from a breakup, too.”

  “Not really. Isaac will make someone a great husband someday, but for me…” She lifts one bare shoulder. “It was like you said, he was a place to hide. And I was tired of hiding.”

  A shadow flickers across her face and I suddenly know what she’s not telling me. It is an instinctive knowing, a limb tingling as it sinks beneath cool water, something I couldn’t ignore any more than I could ignore my own arm or leg.

  “You don’t have to hide anymore.” I stare deep into her eyes, willing her to see that I’m ready for her, all of her. “Don’t hold back with me. I want you to be exactly who you are, and if I can’t handle it, then I’m the one who’s failed, not you.”

  “That’s not true,” she says. “People change, I know that. It doesn’t mean anyone has failed.”

  I shake my head. “It does for me. I realized something this afternoon, when I found that memo in my father’s office. Ever since the surgery, I’ve been afraid of myself. I thought I was afraid of my dark side, but I’m not. I’m afraid I won’t have the guts to become the person I need to be, the person I obviously was when I met you.”

  “What do you mean?” she asks, brow furrowing again.

  “My parents have played with our lives like our free will doesn’t matter. We’ve been pieces in their chess game,” I say, rage and betrayal rising inside me all over again, the way they did when I sat in front of my father’s computer this afternoon. “I come from people who prove there’s no point in playing by the rules. There will always be someone bigger and stronger, with more power, and no moral compass, who refuses to do the right thing. And those people make it ludicrous to think decent people can walk the straight and narrow and expect the world not to go to hell in a hand basket.”