Then it happened. As with all extremely emotional times in his life, out of habit he reached for his music, and finally, finally, it was there. It was like finding a long lost friend. He could hear the beginnings of how his feelings sounded, as note after note played in his head. The music would come first, eventually followed by the words. He could hear his wonder, his joy, and his passion singing to him along with his uncertainty, his fear, and his hope. All were attached and connected to the incredible woman he now held in his arms as well as in his heart and soul. As he heard the music begin to play in his mind, he felt calmer and more at peace than he had in years, and it was all because of Summer.
Gabe wanted … her, all of her. Not just her body, but her … heart? Mind? Trust? He couldn’t pin it down. Maybe it was as much about what he wanted Summer to want from him … for Summer to want him as much as he wanted her. He wanted to be what Summer needed.
Maybe that was it. For the first time since he could remember, Gabe was concerned about whether or not his feelings would be returned, whether or not the emotional investment he now wanted to chance would be returned, if after risking his heart he’d be left alone. Come to think of it, he’d never had to deal with a broken heart. Even when Margarita died, as hard as it had been to deal with, it wasn’t because he’d been broken hearted. He’d never been emotionally invested in a relationship before. He’d liked many women and enjoyed them sexually, enjoyed spending time with them even, but he’d never felt worried that he would have to deal with any sense of loss. In the first place, he was usually the one to end things, and on the few occasions that the woman had called it quits, it had been no great loss.
Gabe stroked Summer’s skin everywhere he could reach with gentle fingertips as he realized that for the first time in his life his future happiness depended on whether or not the woman he wanted to be with also wanted to be with him. Not a comfortable feeling, but an honest one. He needed some time to get used to this … potential dependency.
“I’m sure you have more experience than I do, but my God, that was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I could live in the afterglow alone for a week.” Gabe continued touching her, stroking, thinking, and hearing music in his mind. “You’re awfully quiet. Maybe we should get dressed.” Summer guessed that Gabe obviously hadn’t shared the same kind of experience she had.
“No, Summer, don’t go. You misunderstand the silence. I’ve written more songs than I can count, but I can’t think of the right words to describe what just happened between us, baby. You’re probably right in that I do have more experience than you, although I would like to point out that I’ve never been as wild as I’ve been portrayed in the press. But what just happened here is not anything I’ve ever felt before either. I am not so sure I’m comfortable with it, not because it wasn’t great, but because it was so intense. Do you understand?”
Summer rose up to look at Gabe. “I do understand, and as great as it was, it makes me uncomfortable, too. I’ve had lovers before, Gabe, but I told you, I’m not good at commitment, not that I’m saying that’s where we’re going with this. See? I can’t even talk about it. It scares the hell out of me. Maybe this isn’t a good …"
Gabe kissed her before she could finish the statement. “Let me show you what a great idea it is, Summer. You know what they say about actions speaking louder than words.” He kissed her more deeply, and he felt her respond immediately. “We tried fast and hard, and it was great. Let’s see how slow and sexy compares.”
Chapter Nine
For the first time since she could remember, Summer was not out of bed early as usual. It wasn’t that she’d slept in. She’d been awake for hours, but she wasn’t quite ready to face the day. She and Gabe hadn’t gone upstairs – to their separate bedrooms – until after two in the morning. Even after making love for hours, Summer felt lonely when they’d parted ways. That bothered her, because she was never lonely. She liked people alright, but she was so used to being alone, that it just wasn’t lonely anymore. Usually. She used to feel lonely all the time after her mother died, but looking back, she guessed she’d coped by becoming immune to it. It was scary to think that her immunity was weakening.
On some level she knew avoiding commitment due to something that might or could happen – as in falling in love with someone that might eventually abandon her – was not a healthy way to live your life. On the other hand, whether it was emotionally healthy or not, it was emotionally safe. Don’t love someone, and they can never hurt you. If they leave you, oh well. No biggie. What was so wrong with being safe? She practiced safe sex, so why not practice safe love? Was there such a thing? Could you love someone without risking yourself? Probably not.
So then, the question becomes whether or not she was willing to take the risk. Her immediate response to herself was absolutely no way, not no, but hell no. Then she started hearing chicken sounds in her mind “bock, bock, bocking” and a stupid cowboy voice saying, “Are you yellow?” Good God.
Summer had never thought of herself as cowardly. As Gabe could bear witness, she had no problem speaking her mind or standing up for herself. Was that because she never let anyone close enough to her to care about whether or not they were offended or put off? Damn it, that was probably it. That and the fact that she had a temper. Was she brave enough to let down her defenses? Could she even do so if she decided to? Was Gabe even worth the effort?
Damn it, he was. Whether or not she’d eventually cut and run like she always had in the past remained to be seen, but for the first time, she was going to try to stick it out, at least for awhile, even though she was unsure and afraid. Having made that decision, she got out of bed and finally started her day. It was nine o’clock before she made it downstairs.
“Summer, you were a sleepy head today, weren’t you?” As usual, Marisol ran over to meet her as she entered the room. As usual, Summer bent down so they were eye level, returning her hug.
“Yes,
Chiquita
, I guess I was. Have you been up long?”
“Forever! I made a deal with Papá. He said I could wait for you to do my hair, as long as nobody woke you up. So, can you please? I wasn’t a brat.”
Summer smiled. “I would be very happy to do your hair today if you’ll go get all your pretties.” The child skipped to the stairs to get her ribbons and other hair necessities, and Summer stood to see Gabe in the doorway watching her, obviously unsure of her mood.
“Good morning, Gabe. I think it’s going to be a beautiful day today, don’t you?” She grinned at him, looking at him with eyes full of a combination of fear, determination, and maybe a tiny ray of hope.
The smile appeared, slow and sexy, as he walked toward her. “It’s already a beautiful day, Summer.” He brushed her hair back from her face, running his hand down its silky length. Only his fingertips touched her, but she felt fresh desire burning at the simple touch.
Marisol came back in with all her hair supplies in her ziplock bag and handed everything to Summer, who transferred her full attention to her.
“We need to get you a pretty jar.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a glass jar that you decorate however you want to that holds all your barrettes, ties, and ribbons. My mother and I made one for me when I wasn’t much older than you.”
“I like that idea. Maybe the next time we go to do some shopping or sightseeing we can look for one and the stuff to make it pretty.”
“I think that’s a superb idea. How shall we style you today,
Chiquita
? Another French braid, or would you like something different?”
“Something different, I think, but I don’t know what.”
“How about if I fix your hair a special way that my mother used to fix mine when I was your age?” Marisol smiled and nodded.
Gabe watched Summer with his daughter. Was he making a mistake letting Marisol get attached to her? He didn’t think so. He’d thought about Summer and their lovemaking the rest of the night after they’d gone to their rooms. Their rooms were across from each other’s, but it had seemed too far. He’d been so tempted to go to her, not to make love again, but to simply feel her nearness, to hold her, to sleep with her in his arms. He’d never felt that way before. Wanting to go to a woman to make love again, sure. Spending the whole night with someone and waking up to have more sex, yes, many times. But missing the feel of a particular woman? Not being able to imagine being with anyone else ever again? Absolutely not. He’d been faithful during his short marriage, but it had been a moral decision, not an emotional one.
The craziest thing about it all was that, other than being concerned if his feelings would eventually be returned by Summer, these new feelings and thoughts didn’t particularly worry him. Rather than analyze his feelings further, Gabe had ended up getting out of bed and putting down the music for a new song that was beginning to take solid shape and sound in his head. For only having gotten two or three hours of sleep, he felt surprisingly energetic.
Gabe had risen early this morning, thinking he might have some quiet time alone with Summer since she was always up early. When she hadn’t come down until later, he’d been afraid that she hadn’t wanted to face him, didn’t want to see him after their night together, that she regretted being with him. Seeing her smile at him was a great relief. Instead of seeing that serious side she showed so often, he saw a more open, happy look in her eyes, even if it was accompanied with equal measures of doubt and wariness.
Summer was doing some complicated something to Marisol’s hair, a look of intense concentration on her face while she measured two pigtails to make sure they were even and the part straight. She could’ve just put it in a quick ponytail, but no. She gave Marisol her full attention and effort and seemed to enjoy herself. When the two pigtails met with her satisfaction, she braided both, tied the braids off at the bottom, then wrapped ribbons around the bottoms of the braids and looped them up to the tops and tied bows.
“All done. Come on, let’s go look in the mirror, and you can tell me if you like it. I used to call this style loopies, because your hair is in loops. See?” She lifted Marisol so she could see herself.
“Ooo. I like the loopies. What else did your mamá used to do to your hair? Can we try other ways, too?”
“Of course. We can try something different every day if you wish. Let’s go show your papá.” Marisol ran back into the room and showed Gabe, turning around several times to make sure he saw it from several angles.
“Do you like my loopies, Papá?”
“Si, Señorita. Muy bonita.”
“
Gracias, Papá
. I’m going to show
Abuelita
and
Abuelito
.”
“One moment. Didn’t you forget something?”
“Oops. Thank you, Summer.”
“You’re very welcome,
Chiquita
.” Marisol ran out of the room. Gabe walked over to Summer and took both her hands in his.
“You’re great with her. Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure. She’s a sweetheart. You’ve done a great job with her so far.”
“Thanks. I take fatherhood very seriously. It’s such a pity children don’t come with a learner’s manual. I’m sure I’ve made many mistakes, some as yet unrealized. I’m always worried that I’ll do something to mess things up for her, or affect her in some way that ruins her.”
“She knows you love her, Gabe. Everything else is secondary. So, what’s on your agenda today?”