All this time, Pops had been watching football from his recliner. “When are you going to stand up to Ben?”
“Excuse me?”
Looking him straight in the eyes, Dane’s father said, “Judging by the way that baby’s mother is always looking at you, I’d say Benny is the one needing help reading the ladies.” Dane’s father had always been a man of few words, so to hear him throw in his two cents on a matter Dane didn’t think anyone had even noticed aside from himself and Gabrielle left him off balance.
“I’m not following you,” Dane said, nuzzling Jackson’s sweet-smelling hair.
“Don’t play dumb with me. Any fool can see you’re lusting after Benny’s girl. Too bad for him, out of his own stupidity, it’s no longer your brother she wants.” Holding out his arms, his dad added, “Give me that kid. Your mom and Nana are all the time hogging him.”
Dane did as his father asked, then wandered into the kitchen. He felt like a stranger in his childhood home. As if he didn’t know what to do or say.
“Check it out, Mama.” Ben wowed them with his dish-drying skills. “Look at what Gab taught me how to do.”
“Impressive,” his mother said.
“If you’re a nine-year-old,” Nana said with a snort.
“Give him some credit,” Gabrielle said, turning Dane’s stomach when she rubbed Ben’s back. “When I first met him, he ate on nothing but paper plates. Now he not only eats off china, but uses genuine silverware, too.”
Laughing, Ben slipped his arm around her shoulders. His motion was easy, natural, and it irked the hell out of Dane.
“I’m impressed,” Mama said to Gabrielle. “You’ve accomplished in a few weeks what it took me years to try to teach him. Thank you.”
“No problem.” She now had her arm around Ben’s waist. And just like that, they were a couple again. It might have been rough going in the beginning, but they would make it work. Effectively sealing Dane’s fate to live the rest of his life without Gabrielle or her son.
GABRIELLE HAD BEEN BACK at the spa for two days, and already she was exhausted. She could’ve stayed home longer with Jackson, but having taken off so much time before having him, she felt honor-bound to head back early. Making matters worse was the fact that long-overdue Olivia had finally had her baby. It’d been a particularly rough delivery, ending in an emergency C-section. Gabby hadn’t felt comfortable leaving until she’d been assured Olivia and her son would be fine. By the time she and Ben had left the hospital, it’d been after 3:00 a.m.
Dane and Stephanie had also been there, but upon seeing Gabby with Ben, Dane hadn’t stayed for very long, asking Stephanie to call him should there be trouble. It bothered Gabby that he’d left. That he didn’t so much as say hello to her. That the last time they’d shared Sunday dinner at his parents’, he’d looked at her with disdain. And that had broken her heart.
Her private massage room featured an aquamarine glass-tile floor, with three walls painted to resemble a serene coral reef, complete with fish and an octopus peeking out of a crag in the trompe l’oeil rocks. The fourth wall was glass gazing out on an oriental water garden. While the massage table occupied the room’s center, comfy rattan seating and fluffy white area rugs softened the space’s edges.
During a break in her appointments, Gabby sat at her acrylic desk, needing to study online sales figures sent by her accountant. But instead, she leaned back in her white leather chair, staring out at the dreary day.
It resembled her mood.
She’d wanted Jack with her, but after one day with him at the spa, she’d known it wouldn’t work. It wasn’t good business to stop in the middle of a massage to change a diaper, and it wasn’t good parenting not to be able to care for her son when he needed her. Meaning, since he was still out of a job, Ben was home caring for Jack, which was where Gabby wanted to be.
Before Jack had entered her world, her days at the spa had been highly satisfying, but now she missed her baby boy.
“How’s it going?” the receptionist, Richard, asked. He was working his way through college, and had weathered his fair share of sexist jokes regarding his position.
“I’m pooped.” Gabby thumped her forehead to her desk. “Is it five yet?”
“Fraid not. And even if it were, I’ve got a question.” He wagged the cordless phone, the mouthpiece of which he had covered. “Mrs. Benson is running late. Can you see her at five-thirty?”
Groaning, Gabby asked, “Any chance of you telling the mayor’s wife that I’ve been abducted by aliens?”
“If you want, but considering she’s one of your best clients and generously tips even me at Christmas, I’d love to tell her good news.”
She glanced up. “But if aliens have me, surely she can’t expect me to give her a massage?”
“Great,” he said with a big grin, uncovering the phone. “Mrs. Benson, Gabby would be happy to fit you in whenever it’s convenient.”
Richard finalized details with the client as he left the room. Gabby swallowed a knot in her throat. She hadn’t realized how much she hadn’t missed working until returning to her job. Her breasts ached from not feeding Jack, and every bone in her body hurt from forcing her swollen feet into too-tight shoes.
Peeking his head back in, Richard asked, “Want me to make you some tea?”
“No, thanks.” Trying to ignore the throbbing center of her forehead, she grabbed for the thick envelope from her accountant.
“Okay, but Christmas bonus time is coming. Don’t forget I offered.” He winked.
She threw a paper clip at him as he jogged back to his station at the spa’s posh reception area.
Somehow, Gabby made it through the day. At five, she called Ben, telling him she’d be home late. He told her no problem, even though for her, it was a very big problem. She’d tried expressing her milk, but her breasts still hurt—bad.
Making small talk during Mrs. Benson’s session felt endless, as did her short commute home.
When she entered the house, she kicked off her pink Crocs, dumped her purse, keys and accountant’s notes on the entry-hall table. “Ben?”
Suddenly Gabby realized Jackson was crying.
Figuring Ben must be in the bathroom or napping, Gabby made a mad dash for the nursery. Jack sounded frantic.
“Sweetie,” she crooned, scooping him from his crib. “Mommy’s here. Shhh…” She tried soothing him, but his diaper had soaked through to his jammies and he was sopping wet.
She made quick work of changing his diaper and dressing him in clean, dry clothes. That calmed him, but judging by his cry, he was also hungry.
Where in the hell was Ben?
With Jack clutched to her chest, she sat in the rocker, quickly unbuttoned her blouse and unlatched her maternity bra. Jack rooted and then furiously suckled, his little fist grabbing her aching left breast. When the pain of engorgement had subsided, she switched Jack to her right breast. Relief swept through her, as well as exhaustion.
“Ben?” she called. Was he sleeping? Hurt?
Once Jack had satisfied his hunger, he promptly fell asleep. She fumbled with closing her bra flaps, then pulled together her blouse.
Still cradling Jack, she searched the house for Ben, but found no sign of him. A quick check outside showed that his silver Dodge Charger was gone.
Chapter Sixteen
Assuming there had to have been an emergency for Ben to leave Jack on his own, Gabby’s hands trembled so badly she had a hard time dialing Dane’s cell.
He picked up on the third ring. “Gabrielle. What can I do for you?”
“Dane, something horrible must’ve happened to Ben.” She relayed how she’d found Jack crying and alone. “I’m not sure what to do. Should I call police or emergency rooms?”
“Hold off on that,” Dane said. “Let me check a few of his favorite haunts.”
“Like bars?” Anger at Dane’s accusation seized her stomach. “Ben would never leave Jack home alone so that he could go out drinking.”
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“If you say so.” Dane’s tone was droll, as if he knew his brother so much better than she.
“Never mind,” she snapped. “I shouldn’t have even called you.” Before he said something to upset her even further, she hung up.
Pacing the living room with Jack’s head resting on her shoulder, Gabby alternately worried and fumed. After calling Mama Bocelli and discovering there was no emergency there, Gabby had called the hospital, but no one matching Ben’s description had been admitted.
When he’d first returned, Gabby might have thought him capable of just up and taking off, but not now. Lately, he’d been a changed man—just like he’d promised. While she couldn’t say she’d completely forgiven him for leaving her when she’d most needed him, she’d at least remembered why she’d first fallen for him—his infectious laugh and knack for turning most anything into fun. The new Ben, who’d finally figured out grown-ups couldn’t have fun 24/7, was starting to grow on her.
An agonizing hour later, a key turned in her front door. In walked Ben, smiling as usual. “Hey, you finally made it home.” Tweaking Jack’s nose, he said, “Hey to you, too, little man. Have a good nap?”
Fury didn’t begin to describe the anger surging through her. “Where have you been?”
He kissed her cheek before taking off his coat, slinging it over a kitchen bar stool. “Craig called. Wanted me to join him and a few other guys for a quick beer. I wasn’t going to go, but he said he might have a lead on a great job, and Jack was zonked, so I figured since you were already on the way home, I should go for it.”
Getting as far away from Ben as the living room allowed, she said, “You need to leave.”
“Aw, baby, don’t be mad.” He approached her for a hug, but she slipped out of reach.
“When I got home, Jack was frantic. Any idiot knows that you never leave an infant alone—even if Craig calls, wanting you to play.”
“But, baby, it was about a job. You want me to land something that pays major coin, right?”
Fists clenched, it was all she could do to keep her voice calm so as not to upset Jack. “You’re a fool. Our child could’ve been in serious trouble, yet you don’t even care.”
“Of course I do,” he reasoned. “I love the kid. But I also love being able to provide for my family.”
He still didn’t grasp the gravity of what he’d done. “How long was Jack alone?”
“Hardly any time at all. Maybe an hour or two—tops.”
She laughed, lacing her tone with plenty of sarcasm. “In my book, ten minutes is too long, yet you thought nothing of leaving our child alone for more than an hour?” Pacing again, holding on to Jack for dear life, thanking God that he hadn’t been seriously hurt, she said, “You’re never going to change. Why can’t you be more like Dane?”
Ben’s expression became thunderous. “Oh—so that’s the real problem.” He gave a harsh laugh. “I knew the second I found out he’d helped himself to my house and pregnant woman that he—”
“Whoa. This stopped being your house when you abandoned your pregnant woman. As for Dane, he’s done nothing but try to fix the mess you made. Honestly, I don’t know how I would’ve made it through my pregnancy without him.”
“Story of my life,” Ben said, sitting on the sofa, defensively crossing his arms. “Dane’s all too willing to charge to the rescue—even when his white knight routine isn’t necessary.”
“Do you realize how close I came to losing Jack? If it hadn’t been for Dane actually moving in here to help, we might not have a baby to be fighting over.”
“You know what?” Ben said, shaking his head while giving her a glare. “If you’re so enamored with my big bro, you should go for it. I’m tired of trying to live up to your impossible standards.”
Glaring right back, she said, “Is it really so tough to just not leave our son home alone? If you needed to hang with your buddies so bad, I would’ve rather you took Jack to the bar with you.”
“Look,” he said, rising to his feet, “this is getting us nowhere. I’m sorry I went out with Craig. I never intended to put Jack in danger or tick you off. You think you’re this model of motherhood perfection, but you have your own issues.” Heading down the hall to his room, he called over his shoulder, “Ever stopped to think how much your being a constant downer must be affecting our son?”
Following him, she snapped, “It’s called being a parent instead of just hanging out. You might try it sometime.”
“No,” he said, taking his suitcase from the closet. “I think I’ll leave that to Dane, since it’s obviously him you’d rather be with.”
“Stop,” Gabby snapped. “For just once in your life can’t you accept the fact that you screwed up? This has nothing to do with Dane, and everything to do with you.”
From the living room came the sound of the front door opening. “Gabrielle?” Dane called.
“Great,” Ben said, shoving his few clothes into his bag. “Just what we need.”
“I’m in the guest room!” Gabby shouted.
In two seconds, Dane was in the doorway. To his younger brother, he said, “I see you made it home.”
“Don’t start.”
“Oh—I’m going to do far more than start. You need to wake up and take charge of your life.”
“Trust me, big bro, I’m doing just that, starting by getting the hell out of here. Gab, I’ve tried so hard to be whoever you want me to be, but I’m done. My whole life I’ve been trying to live up to Dane’s standards, but seeing how that’s not good enough, peace out.” Brushing past Gabby, he kissed the top of Jack’s head. “As far as I’m concerned,” he said on his way to the bathroom to shove his few toiletries into his bag, “you two deserve each other.”
As abruptly as he’d reentered her life, Ben walked out the front door, slamming it behind him.
Trembling head to toe, Gabby sank onto the sofa, holding Jack for all she was worth. “I—I don’t get it. How is it that he’s the one who did something wrong, yet I’m the one feeling punished?”
Sitting beside her, Dane said, “Maybe because you’ve been putting up with Ben’s stunts for so long that he’s swaying you toward the dark side?” Nudging her shoulder, he laughed. “Seriously, one of these days, my kid brother will get a clue. Lucky for you, you’re not going to have to wait for that far-off day.”
“What’s that mean?”
“What do you think?” Rolling his eyes, he took Jack from her. “Just as soon as we can get a license, we’ll be married. I want you to quit your job and focus all of your energies on keeping this guy in good shape.”
After what she’d just been through with Ben, Gabby couldn’t believe what she was now hearing. “Could you be any less sensitive or more controlling?”
He looked confused. “What do you mean? Remember back when you told me you might be falling for me? I thought being with me is what you wanted.”
“Not like this—you telling me what I’m going to do.” Exasperated, she stormed into the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. After taking a couple of gulps, she said, “I’m sick of you Bocelli men dictating my life. One minute, you’re telling me you and I will never be together, that for Jack’s sake, I should marry Ben. Now, just as my every instinct has been telling me all along, I discover Ben is the mess my queasy stomach told me he was, and suddenly, you’re telling me you and I are getting married?”
“Gabrielle,” he said, helping himself to a sip of her wine, “I didn’t mean it like that. If you’d prefer, we can slow things down. Plan a fancy spring wedding.”
“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? Stop telling me what to do. I’m a grown woman, Dane, fully capable of making my own decisions. The first of which is sending you home.”
IT WAS OFFICIAL—DANE WAS done with women.
The morning after Gabrielle told him off, Dane didn’t just go for a morning jog, but more of a death run. She had some nerve, whining about how much she missed him, and then turning down his proposal.
Granted, he could’ve been more suave, but still, in times of crisis, he believed in getting straight to the point. Nothing good ever came from pussyfooting around.
Finished with his run, he took a quick shower and put on his best suit and power tie. He was determined not to waste one more minute of his life thinking about Gabrielle. He took a couple of granola bars from his pantry, and then snatched his keys, wallet and briefcase, making it to the courthouse thirty minutes ahead of schedule.
The first case on his docket was a clean divorce. A pair of twenty-somethings who’d jumped into marriage way sooner than they should’ve. His second case was more complex, another divorce, but with hundreds of thousands’ worth of divided assets.
His third case involved kids. Nothing irked him more than when parents saw fit to use their children as weapons. Especially troubling to Dane was the infant being held by an elderly woman in the gallery’s second row. The infant looked about the same age as Jackson. Which reminded Dane of Gabrielle—not a good thing.
Two hours later, he’d reached a verdict and escaped to the calm of his chambers.
For all of his resolutions to clear his mind of Gabrielle, he was doing a rotten job. Granted, he could’ve waited to propose, but what would’ve been the point? Ben had officially made his choice, which had in turn given Dane permission to pursue Gabrielle for himself.
It’d been a black-and-white situation. What didn’t she get about that fact?
The week droned on.
Making matters worse, his mother had ordered him over for a family dinner Friday night. He’d wanted the weekend to himself. Lord knew, he’d earned it.
“You’re late,” his mother said when he entered his parents’ home a little past seven.
“Sorry,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Traffic was a nightmare.”
“It’s okay.” She urged him inside. “Hurry up, it’s cold.”
From the kitchen, Nana hollered, “Is that Gabby? She promised to fix me up with a hottie from her—” In the living room, she stopped, putting her hands on her hips. “Oh. It’s you.”
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