Getting Gabe

by Kate Hunt

  Getting Gabe

  Dirty Sweet Alphas Book 2

  Kate Hunt

  Copyright © 2019 by Kate Hunt

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  All rights reserved.

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  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Contents

  1. Marisa

  2. Gabe

  3. Marisa

  4. Gabe

  5. Marisa

  6. Gabe

  7. Marisa

  8. Gabe

  9. Marisa

  A note from Kate

  Chapter One

  Marisa

  I hang up the phone and sink into the couch. The words we look forward to having you on the crew ring in my ears. It feels so weird to feel depressed about being hired for a job. But when I think about the fact that twenty-four hours from now, I’m going to be scrubbing toilets and emptying trash cans, my heart sinks all over again.

  This wasn’t the way things were supposed to go. My dream is to run my own small catering business. I’ve spent the last several months working to get it off the ground, but it’s taking longer than I’d hoped. And two days ago, when my credit card statement arrived in the mail, it finally hit me that I’m going to be in a serious financial bind if I don’t get a temporary part-time job.

  Of the dozen jobs I frantically applied to, this night cleaning crew one was the first to get back to me. Knowing I shouldn’t be picky, I accepted the job that was offered to me.

  Picking up my phone again, I do a quick search to see if there’s anything fun going on tonight around the city. I need a distraction. As I scroll through website after website, nothing catches my eye.

  Then I see the speed dating event.

  I’ve never done speed dating before, but I’ve always been curious. It’s not like I’d expect to find a Prince Charming at something like that. But it could be fun. And it would definitely take my mind off my financial woes.

  I shoot a text over to two of my best friends to see if they want to go with me. I have three best friends—Aurora, Elle, and Lindsay—but I don’t include Aurora because she’s in a relationship.

  A month ago, on New Year’s Eve, she met my neighbor, Cole, and the two of them instantly hit it off…so much so that as of a couple days ago, they’re freakin’ engaged. I’m super happy for her, but I’m also still in shock about it all. I love Aurora to death, but she’s the last person I expected to get engaged to a guy so quickly. She had this whole plan figured out for her life, and getting swept away in a whirlwind romance wasn’t part of it.

  Anyway, that’s why I send the text to just Lindsay and Elle. And less than a minute later, Elle texts back: Sounds fun! I’m in!

  About twenty minutes after that, Lindsay pipes in: Me too!

  Feeling reinvigorated, I pull myself up from the couch and get ready for the event. Sexy-but-chic outfit? Check. Hair perfectly tousled? Check. My best red lipstick applied? Check.

  Time to get my speed dating on.

  The event is at a wine bar downtown, and Elle and I show up at almost exactly the same time.

  “Hey, girl,” Elle says, giving me a quick hug. “You look amazing.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. You do, too.”

  Both of our phones chime. Elle gets hers out of her bag first. “Well, looks like it’s just us. Lindsay says she ripped her dress and is turning around.”

  I sigh sympathetically. Poor thing. Lindsay has the worst luck sometimes. I send a quick text to Lindsay, asking if we can help. But she texts back insisting that she’ll be fine and tells Elle and I to enjoy ourselves.

  The two of us head into the restaurant. Right inside the front door, a woman is sitting behind a registration table. She checks us in and gives us a quick overview of the event rules: each date will last eight minutes, the end of which will be signaled by a buzzer; we’re encouraged to make notes about our dates on our scorecards, but should do so discreetly; and we’re not permitted to ask anyone out on an actual date.

  “If you and another participant both put down a yes for each other on your scorecard, we’ll email you about the match in the coming days,” the woman tells us. “Any questions?”

  Neither Elle nor I have any. Another woman shows us to our tables; we’re seated at two small tables right next to each other. Within minutes of us taking our seats, the woman from the registration table stands up and announces that the first round is about to begin.

  “Good luck,” says Elle, nudging me.

  “You too, girl,” I say, shooting her a grin.

  My first eight-minute-date is with a guy named David. My initial impression of David is that he’s a good-looking guy. He’s tall and lean, clean-shaven, and has a nice smile. When he tells me he’s an entrepreneur, I think, Okay, cool. We have something in common.

  But then he keeps talking about his startup.

  And keeps talking.

  And talking.

  “Have you ever thought about investing in a small business, Marisa?” he says.

  Oh my God. Is he seriously trying to get me to give him money?

  Well…joke’s on him. I’m broke.

  Relief floods my chest when the buzzer sounds. On my scorecard, I scribble down David’s name and then simply write Nope.

  When I look up, another good-looking man is sitting down across from me.

  “Hi,” he says. “I’m Mike.”

  “Marisa,” I say, giving him a smile.

  This mini-date gets off to a better start. We make brief small talk about our jobs and then talk about the best movies we’ve seen lately. I’m already imagining what I’m going to write down on my scorecard next to Mike’s name: Has potential!

  Then, out of nowhere, Mike starts crying.

  I’m shocked as he bursts into tears in front of me. Shocked and confused. Did I say something offensive?

  “I’m sorry,” he blubbers. “But I can’t do this. I just got out of a relationship two days ago. And I still love her. Oh, God. I miss her so much.”

  Oh. Wow. Poor dude. Reaching my hand across the table, I squeeze his arm and say, “Hey. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I…should…go…” he sobs.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  But he just shakes his head, flings himself from the chair, and runs out of the building.

  Well, didn’t see that coming.

  I check my phone. There’s still three minutes left in this round. I glance over at Elle, but she’s absorbed in the conversation she’s having with her current date, totally oblivious to the drama that just went down at my table. I’m glad at least one of us is having a good time. I guess I should—

  “Is this seat taken?”

  A deep voice interrupts my thoughts. I look up and see a huge guy standing by my table. Huge as in tall and strong. As my eyes drift up his body, over his defined jaw, and up to his piercing hazel eyes, it feels like my whole body suddenly wakes up. Holy fuck, this guy is hot. And his presence—it’s so commanding. Where did he even come from?

  “Go ahead,” I say. “I’m…um—” I forget my name for a moment. “Marisa.”

  Keeping his eyes on mine, he lowers himself into the chair across from me.

  “Nice to meet you, beautiful,” he says. “I’m Gabe.”

  Chapter Two

  Gabe

  I didn’t come here to participate in some speed dating event. I came to have a quick meeting with the owner—this establishment is overseen by the restaurant management company I’m the CFO for.

&
nbsp; But when I walked out of the back office after my meeting with the owner, a gut feeling told me to look across the dining room. My eyes immediately locked onto the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen: a curvy beauty with bright purple hair.

  And she was consoling some dude who was totally losing his shit.

  Her stunning beauty alone would have been enough to claim my heart. But it was her kindness that really killed me. Without another second’s thought, my feet lead me over to her.

  Now, sitting across from Marisa, my heart is pounding so goddamn hard it feels like it might burst through my ribs. Beneath the table, my cock fights against my zipper, but I’m not about to let myself lose control. Marisa deserves more respect than that. She deserves genuine attention that’s not just lust-filled.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” she says. The corner of her mouth lifts. “You do realize you just stepped into the middle of a speed dating round, right?”

  “How long do we have?”

  “About…” She checks her phone. “Three minutes.”

  Fuck. Three minutes? We’re not going to have even a halfway decent conversation.

  “Tell me something you’ve always wanted to do, Marisa,” I say, leaning against the back of my chair.

  “Um…let’s see…” She chews on her bottom lip as she thinks. Does she realize how sexy that is? “Go up in the tallest building in the city, I guess.”

  Okay. I can work with that. I stand up and hold out my hand to her. Marisa looks at me, perplexed.

  “Are we…going somewhere?” she asks.

  “Yes. Unless you’d rather stay.”

  A challenging smile overtakes her lips. “And why, exactly, should I trust you? I don’t know a single thing about you.”

  “That’s why we’re leaving. To get to know each other—without any time limits. If you come with me, Marisa, you’re free to end our date whenever you want. But I promise you you’re going to enjoy it.”

  Marisa smirks. “And if I don’t?”

  “You will. I’ll see to it.”

  She shakes her head and laughs. I can tell she thinks this is absolutely crazy. But she’s intrigued, too. She slides her soft hand into mine and stands up. Once she grabs her purse, the two of us start to walk away from the table.

  But then she says, “Wait. I need to tell my friend I’m leaving.” I let go of her hand and she runs back to whisper something into the ear of the girl at the next table over. As Marisa bends over, her curvy ass pushes out, and my cock twitches again. I force my eyes away, looking instead at her friend’s face.

  The other girl’s eyes regard me carefully for a few seconds. The two of them share a quick hug before Marisa runs back over to me.

  “All good?” I say.

  “Yep,” she says, smiling. “Let’s go, mystery man.”

  My car is parked out in front of the restaurant. As soon as Marisa realizes it’s the car we’re walking toward, her eyes widen and she looks at me.

  “This is seriously what you drive?”

  I nod. It’s a vintage car from the 70s. When I saw it for the first time, I instantly fell for it. And it’s fun as hell to drive around.

  “My dad’s into cars,” says Marisa. “Growing up, I went to car shows with him all the time. And this is one of his favorites, Gabe. He’d lose his shit if he knew I was about to ride around in one.”

  Marisa’s dad sounds like the kind of guy I’d get along well with. I’d like to meet the guy.

  Hell, maybe I eventually will.

  Because as insane as it might sound, as I open up the passenger door for Marisa and watch her gorgeous self get in…I’m feeling all kinds of unprecedented feelings. I’ve always thought love at first sight was the stuff of fiction. But right now, the way I’m feeling?

  It’s making me think it might just be for real.

  The history of my love life is a pretty simple one. I’ve had a couple long-term relationships and a handful of short-term ones. No woman has ever felt like the one. And while my professional life has provided a lot of fulfillment, no amount of career success can make up for not having a wife and family.

  A wife. Marisa as my wife. Jesus, that’s a crazy thought to think. I don’t even know her last name. Literally all I know about her is that she was just at a speed dating event with her friend, she’s sweet and a little sassy, and her dad and I share the same taste in vintage cars.

  But something about this just feels different.

  I lower myself into the driver’s seat and steal a glance over at Marisa as I start the engine. She looks back at me and smiles.

  Goddamn, she’s the most beautiful creature in the universe.

  Chapter Three

  Marisa

  I’m dreaming, right? This isn’t actually happening, is it? I mean, who goes to a speed dating event only to be whisked away in the middle of it by a hot stranger who wasn’t even part of the event?

  I know this whole thing is nuts, but…it’s nuts in a good way.

  I look over at Gabe again as he pulls his car out into the street. Damn, the guy is handsome. His attractiveness is more than just his good looks, though. There’s something in the way he carries himself that makes it seem like everything around him is under his control.

  I swear, it even seems like other cars move out of his way as we drive.

  “So do you do this a lot? Go around picking up girls and whisking them away on dates?” I ask. I’m teasing, but I want to know the truth, too. Maybe he’s a huge player and this is just another day for him.

  “Nope. This is a first for me,” Gabe says. He glances over and I can see the honesty in his eyes. The smile he gives me makes warmth rise up in my cheeks.

  “Well, I’m flattered,” I say.

  He turns his attention back to the road. “I didn’t ruin a girls’ day out, did I? You were there with a friend, right?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I was there with my friend Elle. But no. It’s fine. I see her practically every day.”

  “You two must be close.”

  I tell him the story about how Elle and I met—it was the first day of fourth grade, and I was the new kid in school. As I talk about Elle, I also can’t help but tell him about Aurora and Lindsay, too. When I get to the part about Aurora’s crazy fast engagement, I realize I’ve been talking nonstop for a long time and he probably doesn’t care to hear all of this.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I’m just still a little in shock that Aurora is engaged now. It all happened so fast. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m super excited for her.”

  “Is that something you want, too?”

  “What? To get married?”

  Gabe nods.

  “I mean, yeah. If I meet the right guy.”

  Gabe doesn’t say anything, and when I glance over, I see a restrained smile on his face.

  I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel flustered, so I change the subject, asking him about his work. He tells me a little about being a CFO for some big restaurant management company, then asks me what I do for work. I tell him about the catering business I’m trying to get up and running, and how I’ve always loved cooking, thanks to my mom’s love of it.

  “That’s fantastic,” he says. “How’s business going so far?”

  “Well…it’s taking longer than I thought to get things going. So I’m having to do some other part-time work in the meantime.”

  “I’m sure that will only be temporary,” he says, and his encouragement warms my heart.

  I’m in the middle of telling him about how great of a cook my mom is when I realize we’re pulling up to the airport.

  “What are we…doing?” I ask.

  “I’m taking you to see the city from above,” Gabe says. He pulls the car into a little lot, parks, and then hops out and comes around to open my door for me. I love how gentlemanly he’s being—but I also feel disorientated as I get out of the car and walk with Gabe toward a helicopter.

  “We’re getting in that?” I say, gaping at it.


  “If you’re up for it,” says Gabe. “I’m not forcing you to do anything.”

  “No, I…” I blink and pull myself out of my state of shock. “This is amazing. Let’s do it.”

  The pilot comes out to greet us, and Gabe helps me up into the helicopter. We get ourselves buckled in and the pilot goes over a few safety things before starting up the engine. As we lift up off the ground, I feel a rush of exhilaration like I’ve never felt before.

  We don’t do a whole lot of talking during the ride. It’s too stunning of a view to do much more than stare out the windows and listen to the pilot point out various landmarks.

  God, the city is so beautiful from this vantage point.

  But even though Gabe and I might not talk much during the ride, by the time we return to the ground, I feel closer to him than I did before. I can’t stop grinning. And I can’t stop looking at Gabe, amazed that I’ve just met someone like him.

  “Thanks again,” Gabe says, shaking the hand of the pilot. As we walk back to Gabe’s car, he asks if I’m hungry. Right on cue, my stomach growls. We both laugh.

  “I guess that’s a yes,” he says. “Any cravings?”

  I consider saying, I’m craving you, Gabe.

  “I know a great Italian place,” he suggests, since I’m not saying anything.

  “Sure,” I say. “That sounds great.”

  Over dinner, I ask Gabe about his family. He tells me about growing up with three sisters and how crazy their household often got. I also find out that his parents have been together since they were in high school, and that he really looks up to them both.

  “I want to have a marriage like theirs,” he tells me over dessert—a delectable slice of chocolate cake. “I mean, obviously, I can’t have a marriage exactly like theirs, since they met in high school. But I mean one as joyous and unbreakable as theirs.”