Breathless (16 page)

Was the thought of spending the night with him so repulsive to her?

He absently rubbed his jaw where she’d slapped him, still baffled by what had happened.

In a way, he was glad she’d rejected him. The way she’d felt in his arms and tasted, he knew that if he’d walked her home, he would have taken her to bed. And while that prospect still had the ability to superheat his blood, his head knew it would be a huge mistake.

One of the reasons he stayed well away from women was living in that old, rundown house on Roselea Drive. They were trouble, plain and simple, and he had no intention of ever allowing himself to be put in a position where he could be used so badly again.

Sleeping with Emma would have been a monumental mistake because she wasn’t the type of girl for a fling. Even though she didn’t want to date anyone, he could see she wasn’t the love-’em-and-leave-’em kind.

He’d love to spend time getting to know her body, to give her pleasure in every way possible, but he couldn’t give her anything else. Friends with benefits wasn’t his style.

“Gabe?”

His father’s soft question brought him back. “Sorry, Dad. What did you say?”

Ed crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the waist-high, stainless steel operating table. “I asked you if you were okay. What happened when you went after Emma? Did you two have an argument?”

Gabe avoided his father’s intense gaze. “Not exactly. It’s just better this way.”

The silence stretched as the seconds ticked by, marked by the large-numbered clock on the far wall. Unable to find something to occupy his hands, Gabe looked up and was caught by his father’s piercing blue eyes.

“Better for who? If you didn’t fight, what is the problem? Why didn’t you go home with her like everyone seemed to think you did? Like I know you wanted to?”

“Enough questions, Dad!” Heat washed up his neck to lay claim to his face. Anger, frustration and humiliation flushed through him, so he aimed it at his father. “That’s not a topic I want to discuss with you.”

Ed blinked and straightened up from his relaxed stance against the table. He held up his hands, palms down. “Whoa, there. You’ve never had an issue with talking about women before. Was a time, once, you used to ask my opinion. Why is this one so different? Why so defensive about something that didn’t happen? About something a blind man would notice you want?”

Ed held up his hand to preempt Gabe’s response. “No, listen to me. I’ve never seen you look at a woman the way you look at her. If I thought it was just something physical, I’d tell you to get over it. Move on. It’s not, is it?

“I mean, that’s there. Of course you want her. Your eyes almost devour the woman when you’re near her.” He slapped a hand to his chest. “But, it’s here. Right where you don’t want it. That’s what the problem is, isn’t it? What did you say to her to make her so upset with you?”

Gabe rounded the long operating table, unable to keep his feet still, then stalked back the way he’d come. “Why do you automatically think it’s something I did? Why blame me? What makes you so damned sure that she is upset about one single damned thing!” His voice had risen so much, he was almost shouting.

Ed held up a placating hand, trying to calm him down. “If it wasn’t you, tell me. Tell me what happened. Tell me how I can help. Talk to me.”

Gabe halted mid-step and planted his hands on the table before him, leaning toward Ed. “I kissed her. Yeah, bet you didn’t expect that, did you?” He pointed a finger at his father. “And you know what she did? No? She
hit
me. Called me a bastard and slapped me right across the face. Does that sound like a woman who’s interested?” Gabe straightened up, his face set hard. “Didn’t think so.”

Ed leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “She called you a bastard? Why? What made her say that? Think, Gabriel. If you want to know the reason for her reaction, that’s it right there. Emma’s a gentle girl. She’s not going to slap you because you kiss her. She looks at you—dare I say it?—the same way you look at her. If I’m not completely mistaken, she wants you too.”

Gabe took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Why he was getting so worked up over this, he didn’t know. He wasn’t interested in something long term. Heck, he hadn’t thought past the physical attraction.

Who knows? He could spend one night and be sent on his way for not being up to scratch. Why
had
she called him a bastard?

She’d been fine when Dan made him take the drinks to her and Pete’s table. Fine when he’d brought their meals. But she’d been upset when she walked out of the restroom, tears streaking down her pale cheeks. Her eyes had sought his, accusing him.

Accusing
him
.

Feeling like leftovers, Gabe?

“Millie,” he growled.

Chapter Twenty

“What the hell did you say to her?”

Millie Stevens leaned back in her office chair and crossed her long legs, her short skirt riding up so high Gabe imagined a Venus flytrap. Alluring, lovely, but deadly to the unwary.

“Well, good afternoon to you too, Gabe. Lookin’ fine today.”

He didn’t bother looking down. He knew all he had on were jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. He probably even smelled like cow. “Not now, Millie. I want to know.”

She shrugged a slim, designer-clad shoulder. “It would help if I knew what you were talking about.”

Gabe leaned down and planted his hands on either side of her small laptop. “You know exactly what I’m talking about—Emma. That night at the Cow. What did you say to her?”

She blinked, the only sign Gabe got he was on to something. He’d known this woman since they were toddlers paddling around in various wading pools together while their mothers visited with one another.

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything to her. I don’t know what she told you, but whatever it was is a lie.”

“That’s just the problem, Millie.” He narrowed his eyes and regarded her. “She hasn’t said a single thing. She won’t even talk to me.”

Millie snorted and slapped her hand over her mouth, grinning. She sighed and made a face when Gabe didn’t say anything more. “Serves you right, you know. All of you, mooning over her like that. It’s pathetic. She’s just a girl. She doesn’t have anything different from any of us girls around here, except that stupid Australian accent. Half the time you can’t even understand what she says. It’s embarrassing watching you guys. And Ryan, he’s the worst of all, with that ridiculous bet. What did he think would happen? That he’d win, and she’d fall into his arms, swooning?”

Millie swung her arms wide in a parody, feigning a love-struck pose. “Is he really that delusional about his own charm? I mean, come on. There’re plenty of decent-looking guys round here.”

Gabe let out a humorless bark of laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me? You chased him long enough before he caved in. Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

Millie swung her leg down, her high-heeled shoe
thunk
ing hard on the wood flooring.

“That was a long time ago, Gabe. Of course I’m not jealous. What’s to be jealous of? The guy can’t keep it in his pants. That’s not the kind of man
I
want. She’s welcome to him. Besides, there are far better prospects around here.”

Gabe sighed. This was going nowhere fast. “I’m sorry, Millie. I’m sorry Ryan treated you badly. I’m sorry you feel trapped here in the Crossing. You could always leave, you know, if you’re not happy here.” He held up a hand to stop her interrupting. “And I’m sorry I can’t be what you want me to be. I’m not perfect.

“I doubt I’ll ever be in a position to offer what you’re looking for. Hell, girl! You have to give up on this. We’ve been friends since I can remember, but if you can’t get it through your head that we will never happen as a couple, I can’t guarantee we will stay friends. I’m getting damned sick of feeling like I have to fend you off.”

He hunkered down on his haunches and looked up at her. “Please. I like you. A lot. But as friends—nothing else. It will never be anything other than what it is now. This is it. It’s time you accepted it and moved on.”

Millie flattened her lips and looked down at her hands, her eyes glinting in the bright office lights. “Not me? No, never me. What am I missing? I bet you didn’t say that to Miss Perfect the other night when you ran after her like a hound dog. You’re just as pathetic as the rest of them. You’ll see there’s nothing special about her. You and Darby and all the rest of your family, fawning over her like you do. I’m sure you wouldn’t say no to her.”

“Yes I would. It’s not about that. Why do you insist on being so nasty to her? Why couldn’t you just be nice to her like everyone else?”

Millie snapped her head back around to glare at him, the unshed tears making her eyes shine like gemstones. “Why? I don’t need a
why
. I don’t like her. I just don’t
care
.” Millie stood up and waved at the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” She spun and stalked down the hall.

Gabe stood and took a couple of steps after her. “Millie!”

She stopped and half turned. “What?”

“Please tell me what you said that upset her so much. For me, if nothing else.”

Her head tilted the slightest toward him. “I already told you. I didn’t say a thing to her.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Emma pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and chewed.

What on earth will I choose?

“All this stuff looks far too yummy, Mary. Just give me another minute, would you?”

Mary moved off to serve another customer. The bakery was packed. For a small town, it surprised Emma that they would be so busy on a Thursday afternoon. She’d finished painting her bathroom this morning. Ralph was now complete with a pretty blue nose, courtesy of his checking out the roller tray. The kitchen cupboards looked brand new with their shiny coat of lacquer. She’d had one heck of a busy couple of weeks.

Anything to keep from thinking.

Darby had come around to help her with the painting, but didn’t ask questions after the initial, expected “Did he stay the night?” The questioning gaze she’d felt resting on her disappeared the moment Emma glanced at Darby, a friendly smile taking its place.

Darby’s face popped up in front of her, behind the glass of the display case. “What can I get you, Em?”

Emma pointed to a few different items, unable to decide on one. Darby’s running commentary on the where various choices’ deposit of fatty calories would end up had her in tears of laughter.

The hilarious running commentary stopped abruptly, silence fanning out over the busy little bakery’s crowd.

Emma looked up and saw Darby’s sympathetic look toward the door of the bakery. Her eyes flicked to Emma in apology. Emma turned, wondering what had dampened the mood. Her eyes clashed with the stormy grey of Gabe’s. Breaking the contact, she pulled her gaze from his and turned back to the three women standing quietly behind the register.

“Darby’s right. I think I’ll pass on those flabby thighs. Sorry,” Emma murmured.

Emma turned and moved through the people standing between her and the door. Between her and Gabe.

He stood in the doorway, his large, toned frame taking up most of the exit. Emma kept her eyes glued to the safe level of chest height so she wouldn’t see curious looks from the other customers, wouldn’t see Gabe’s accusing stare.

Emma had almost reached Gabe, panicking a little when she realized he hadn’t moved and was still standing in the way of her escape. Just as she reached him, he stepped to the side, allowing her enough room to pass.

The moment stretched and stilled. She turned her head the slightest amount. Her nose caught wind of his scent, blown in upon the faint breeze from outside. She drew it down deep within—all in that insane moment between one heartbeat and the next.

Somehow Emma’s body kept moving, stepping out into the warm sunshine. The bright, cheery light suddenly appeared offensive to her. Heart pounding, she scrubbed her palms against her knee-length skirt, certain the day had grown hotter in the ten minutes she’d been in the bakery. Opening the door of her pickup, Emma hunted beneath the driver’s seat for her keys. It was a terrible habit, one she’d been chided for many times in the past, but now she was glad she didn’t have to fumble in a bag to look for them.

Seat belt buckled, Emma clenched her hand a few times to stop its shaking and inserted the key into the ignition. Her heart-shaped locket swung with the motion of turning the key, the engine of the car roaring to life.

Slamming the gearstick into Reverse, she hit the accelerator and pulled out into the street.

He’s not following me.

Emma wasn’t sure if the tears that now threatened were because she’d wanted him to.

It took every ounce of willpower in Gabe to stand still and let her walk past him, when what he really wanted to do was take hold of her and kiss her senseless.

But that wouldn’t be smart. He didn’t want a relationship. Didn’t want to be placed under someone else’s influence again. He didn’t want
this
either. This…awkwardness between them. He didn’t like it. He
liked
her, wanted her friendship back.

The four short weeks they’d spent getting to know one another shone like a beacon in his otherwise bleak world. Since the night he’d kissed her and lost that friendship, he’d missed her smile. Missed her laugh.