Gabby Revealed (Finding Perfect) (2 page)

Chapter Two

John
. Shane racked his brain trying to remember any mention of a man named John. He had nothing. No recollection, no memory, not even the faintest idea of a
John
who Gabby might have spoken of. It wasn’t as if he was ever able to keep her on the phone long enough to drag much personal information from her anyway, so it shouldn’t have taken him by surprise. But still, a piece of him fought with all rationalization not to be jealous.

Now he was stuck
. She knew he was on his way. Hell, the rental car was pointed in her direction, and the GPS told him he’d get to meet her face-to-face, finally, in a little under thirty minutes. Something he’d waited over four years to do. Hell, it had been almost five at this point.

Gabrielle
James was an enigma.

One that left him equally fascinated and frustrated
. He dealt with people for a living, and had come across enough personalities that left him cold, or even bristling when he’d see their name come across the screen of his desk phone. She was not one of those. She was in a camp all of her own. Where her aloofness should probably have sent him running in the other direction, Shane couldn’t help but feel a pull toward her. Toward a woman he had never done anything but struggle with. And he found the more she struggled, the more fun he had. She wasn’t a pushover, and she wasn’t hinting at personal favors she’d offer for his acceptance. Those were the clients he steered away from.

And u
nlike his other clients who had a public presence, Gabby did not. Her picture was nowhere to be found, she wasn’t on the Internet—she was simply a ghost to the outside world. Shane had tried to talk her into more, but she would never have it. Most times, she would simply hang up on him—something not one person had ever done to him, at least in the business setting. She had guts, drive, and more passion than anyone he’d ever known. Not to mention bigger balls than any man he’d ever met.

Theirs was a business relationship only
. However, he was crazy. Shane never got excited by something as simple as seeing an email address, or a caller ID announcement. But Gabby managed to bring him back from the cold, cynical world of New York, by being a larger cynic than himself. She was a blast to tease and play with, mainly because he knew she hated it. He could damn near hear her teeth grinding when they spoke on the phone. That might have the rest of the male population hanging up with the word
bitch
mumbled as soon as the desk phone was on the receiver. He wasn’t most men.

What did bother him, was John.

He realized he’d been silent for far too long. He also realized how many pieces of the elusive puzzle known as Gabby he still didn’t have, even after all these years.

Shane worked out religiously and dressed well
. He had impeccable manners and even better taste, in all things. Food, clothing—and the women he dated. But since he’d spoken to a brash, headstrong woman from a speck of town in Kansas, he’d been smitten. A secret thrill ran through him again.

Maybe that was part of it
. This insane obsession with a mystery woman often left him restless long after he’d had any sort of contact with her. He had no idea if she was five foot tall or almost six feet. Did she look like a waif or was she soft and curvy? Shane had often let his thoughts drift through pictures of different women and what she might look like, what her hair would feel like.

“So…John?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell him I’ll be there in about twenty-five, and
I’ll meet you both soon.”

With that, he hit end on his cell
, keeping what was left of his dignity in tact before saying anything else she could use against him. He already probably looked like a fool in her eyes, there was no need to make it worse. If he hadn’t already promised his boss he’d come back to New York with something, anything on Gabby, he’d turn around and book it back to the city where he knew his way around. But his big mouth had gotten him into this.
Me and my big ideas
.

He let out a breath as the radio station started to give way to static
. Shane had grown up in Massachusetts, but since he’d moved to a shoebox-sized apartment in New York over six years ago, he almost never drove anymore. Unlike when he’d visit his parents’ house of hell, the rural highway he was now on was peaceful. If he could wipe the knowledge of John from his mind, he might even be able to relax.

Shane hit the dial to turn the static off and rolled down the windows, opting for the silence instead
. It was something he never heard in the city. A need for space bloomed in his chest.

He lived on the fast track, the subway schedules, the sirens
, and the hurried pace of a city that never slept. It was what he’d dreamed of in college, his goal had been achieved and he’d landed a position in the prestigious Holt Agency. Unlike a fair amount of the population, he could say he held his dream job.

However, as he drove with his elbow perched o
n the open car window, his shades on, and the wind blowing through the car, a heavy weight knocked the air from his lungs. The pace he’d kept up for years, long before he had been hired, starting in college, suddenly caught up with him. Shane found himself exhausted and fighting to stay awake as he drove into the warm sun. Drifting off into his hellish past and crashing wasn’t the way he wanted to leave this world.

Gabby forced herself to watch John struggle mak
ing his way down the sidewalk. Over the last few weeks and months, she’d noticed a pattern
of decline in his abilities
, and after dinner last night she should have been prepared for him to not be doing well this morning. That wasn’t the case though. It never got easier to watch her dear friend. As much as she wanted to ask more questions when she spoke with his daughter, the woman always seemed to be in a hurry. Maybe she didn’t want to face the reality that her father’s health was failing, but it was frustrating to be the one to care for him, yet not really know what she was dealing with. And she technically wasn’t even “family”.

She sat on the wood bench beneath the front window of the store and shielded her eyes from the sun
while waiting for him to turn up his driveway. Her hair ruffled in the morning breeze, and although it was a beautiful day, she couldn’t help but let the sinking weight pull her down. Once he was out of her sight, Gabby lowered her head and bit back a tear. That was something she never did, not at home alone, and certainly not out in the wide open where anyone in town could see her. That was a weakness she’d not allowed herself in years.

Steeling herself, she pushed off the bench and spun to open the heavy glass door
. She startled, and stepped back, not expecting to see a man with his arm outstretched, his hand already gripping the door handle.

“Shit!
” Her palm flew to her heart and she narrowed her eyes at the stranger while waiting for her pulse to even back out. Gabby wasn’t going to open the store for another twenty minutes at least, and she had been looking forward to a little peace before then. “Can I help you?” she snapped.

“Gabrielle
James?”

His voice flowed smoothly over her—too
smoothly. Her chin rose in time with her eyebrow. She knew that voice, but only the voice. His black dress slacks hung off his hips, fitting him so perfectly, they appeared to be tailor-made. His pale lavender dress shirt was crisp, and even though the sleeves were rolled up, he wasn’t able to feign casual. A purple shirt, even a light one like his, wouldn’t be found here around her neck of the woods. His light brown hair puzzled her, it was contradictory to his ensemble. The cut was short, but the hint of curl gave him a boyish charm his clothing couldn’t cover up, even if he was going for the consummate professional.

“Yes
? Do I know you?” she bit back, but she did.

Oh…no, no, no. Why God? Why the hell does this guy have to be him? With her brow furrowing, sadness bloomed in her heart. She had so much to be grateful for in her life, despite her younger years and the occasional run-in with the bitches of
Renlend.

“Well, that depends on how you define ‘know’.”

His smartass retort interrupted and his impish grin deflated the stiffness running through her. “Great. You’re early.”

“How could I be early
when you would never tell me when was a good time to be here?”

“I did.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes
. I. Did. I said
never
.” She rolled her eyes and turned to open the door. His hand was already on the handle, but it was too late. Twenty-some years of the same move had her already reaching for the handle, her hand landing on his before she could stop it. The bite of electricity at the contact made her jerk back instantly.

Her elbow landed hard against a six-pack.

“Ah. Damn, Gabby,” Shane said with a grunt. “Do you always try to beat up your customers upon entering your store? Isn’t that bad for business?”

She dropped her hand from the tarnished brass handle and turned once again
. An almost sincere apology was poised on the tip of her tongue, but she found herself too close to him to speak.

Gabby drew in a sharp breath, his scent encircled her, clouding her judgment
. Eye-to-eye with the second button on his shirt, her gaze traveled upward. As he swallowed, his Adam’s apple fell back into place. His jaw was smooth, the stubble gone for the day. She was too close. He was too close. It was too hard not to take in his strong features, his light brown eyes, and the way his mouth slowly tipped as she drank in the sight of him.

Letting out a huff, she twisted away for a second time
. “Screw you, Shane.”

“
Okay.”

She growled as she pushed at his arm, trying to knock him out of the way
. “Oh my God, that was not an offer! You’re impossibly frustrating, did you know that?”

“Darling, I do believe you are the first woman to ever to tell me that.”

“I am not. Your. Darling.” Her hand flew to her hip and she glared at him. His smile widened and there was no way to mistake the twinkle in his eyes. Gritting her teeth, she snarled again, “I cannot even believe you haven’t pissed off at least one woman in this world.” The man was enjoying himself immensely, if the twitching of his lips was anything to judge by.

“No…I would have to say, I think I’m pretty good company.”

“Well then—”She twirled her finger around in a circle. “—Whoop-de-do-fucking-da. I get to be the first. Lucky me.” Gabby turned, reaching out again to open the door, but drew her fingers away seeing his hand still possessing the knob. “Are you going to open the door, or what?”

“Or what.”

“What?”

“Or what.”

“Oh my God. Just open the damn door, Shane. Why do you have to be so damn irritating?”

“Are you always this lovable…or is it just me?
” he teased back.

Gabby was having a nightmare
of epic proportions
. That was it, she was still asleep, upstairs, and in her own bed. Shane…he was still in New York where he belonged. Except, for that to be true, two things had to be different: her eyes had to be closed and she had to be asleep. She pulled in a long draw of air through her nose as she silently started hatching a plan to get rid of the man still standing dangerously close to her. A man who was teasing her, one who was seven kinds of sin hot, one she would give anything if he’d only grab her and kiss the hell out of her, but was also a stupid fuck who apparently had a death wish. Tingles ran up and down her spine, her cheeks were warming; yet she was pissed. Why the hell couldn’t he have stayed a myth?

“Gabby, honey
. Oh, Gabby, do you have a minute?”

Her eyes went wide at the high-pitched voice of old widow Murrey
who was calling to her from down the block. The woman grated Gabby’s nerves, worse than the man near her who she could spit nails at for showing up and making her feel like this.

“Not now, Mrs. Murrey
. Maybe tomorrow.” Spinning, she swatted Shane out of the way. “Hurry. Before she gets any closer. God, that woman is a huge town gossip. Damn it, Shane, open the door and get in.”

He opened the
bookstore door and moved to the side to be a gentleman, she assumed. Right now Gabby didn’t have time for manners. She pushed him through and pulled the door shut behind her, locking it from the inside. Dragging him to the side of the store where the leather chairs were seated on and the blinds were still drawn, Gabby hushed him, knowing the old bat would listen at the glass door to pick up on anything the rumor mill would find hot and exciting.

Chapter Three

“
So, are you going to explain to me why in the hell we are hiding out in your store?”

She swiped at the air
. “Shh. Keep your voice down.”

Shane had run a thousand images through his mind over the course of their
five-year relationship. Nothing could have prepared him for the beauty who had pushed him up against the wall. Her hand was pressed flat against his chest, holding him in place, and while she obviously thought nothing about it as she continued to act like an undercover agent, he felt the scorching heat radiating from her touch.

He had only gotten to know her in an
abstract way. Through the very few pieces of herself she would gift him. Her “fuck you” attitude and lack of patience with any bullshit often made her a fight around the office. Most of his colleagues were intimidated by her. But then again, Shane wasn’t most. He loved her fire and the fact she was no pushover. However, he wasn’t expecting her to be a woman so beautifully stunning she had truly stolen the air from his lungs upon first sight. Then they started to argue and he felt himself falling fast for her. Especially since he was almost positive John wasn’t who she led him to believe he was. He was onto Miss Gabby James and the fact she had a bigger heart than she let on—or let anyone into.

His
own heart was beating faster than he knew was normal. And watching Gabby’s long, dark hair tumble down her back as her jerky movements shifted between keeping him pinned in place and listening for their intruder resulted in making him hard. She had shocking blue eyes framed by dark eyelashes, and her porcelain skin made her pink lips appear even more kissable. Shane knew the power of makeup and what it could hide from the naked eye. However, he wasn’t in New York City or around the women he was used to, and it was easy to see Gabby had not a stitch of makeup on. She was the girl next door and Paris runway model all wrapped into one gorgeous creature.

“Okay…I think she’s gone.”

Mirroring her hushed tone, Shane
lowered his voice and
grinned, “Why are we whispering? And why are we hiding?”

She rolled her eyes as if he should have already known
. “That woman—oh my God. You have no idea what I have saved you from.”

“You’re right.”

She quirked her eyebrow. “I’m right?”

“Yes, I have no idea what you’ve saved me from
. I just asked, and you still haven’t told me.”

He placed his hand over hers, holding
onto the connection they shared. Her eyes focused on that exact spot without blinking, just staring at their hands. Afraid to make a move, Shane did nothing but watch her. Her breathing accelerated, but she remained completely still. It was as if he saw her slip into a trance, she stood stock-still, wide-eyed, then suddenly yanked her hand from him and spun, walking away or escaping. Either way, she was clearly affected by his touch. A smile tipped his mouth.

Following her as she weaved around the crowded shelves, Shane stayed on her heels
. “Gabby, what’s going on, hon? Hey…talk to me. Please?”

Once she
stood behind the glass and oak counter, her armor was visible again, like the antique barrier was a shield of some sorts. With a flick of her wrist, she opened up her laptop and waited silently. There was more to the story of not wanting the town’s busybody nosing around. He wished he knew her better. Her fingers stalled on the keyboard after several strokes. Her head slowly dropped and her eyes closed.

Shane wanted to reach out and console her
. She was so deflated. He had thought it was going to be a good thing for him to come meet her; after all, she was his biggest client. But she was completely defeated, as if his presence had thrown her world off-kilter.

“No one knows, Shane.”

Four little words, that when combined, held such a lofty admission. He had to be mistaken; she couldn’t mean what he thought she was saying. “But? Wait, what do you mean? Gabby, surely you don’t mean
no one
, right? I know you’ve demanded a low profile, but don’t you realize how proud everyone in town would be?”

“I can’t, Shane
. You don’t understand…and you…you being here—in town…God. How am I supposed to explain you?”

She looked away, talking more to herself than asking him a question
. Since he still had no real grasp on why she kept her true identity a secret, Shane didn’t bother to offer suggestions to her predicament. Risking a lot more than just life and limb, he eased his way around the counter and into her personal space. Her shoulders lowered as a deep breath left her, but she didn’t step back. Her back was still stiff, and he could see her trying to keep her guard up.

“Gabby, what’s going on
?”

“It’s my
father. He retired early from the store. This—” She looked around at the walls. “The Looking Glass has been in our family for three generations now. It’s what we do, but he—he wanted more.”

Shane moved in and grasped her upper arms, slowly rubbing her soft skin, offering her comfort without thinking first
. Gabby was like a wild kitten he’d found once when he had visited his grandparents. She could spit and hiss with the best of them. One wrong move and Shane knew she’d swipe at him with claws so sharp he’d bleed for sure. In his hold though, he saw a glimmer of submission. She paused again and Shane carefully picked his words as he pulled information out of her.

Dodging her barbs had become a favorite
pastime of his, but that was before, when they’d be engaged in a debate over the phone. He lived for those calls and emails. The sweeter he treated her, the feistier she became and the harder she fought. Like now, he saw the war within her through her expressive blue eyes. She was determined to keep eye contact; proof the fire he loved so much was still alive.

“Gabby, you’re a writer
. One of the most successful writers of this generation.”

“Shh, Shane.”

She looked around the store and Shane followed her gaze. The door was still locked; the open sign still faced inward. “Gabby, there is no one here. Why are you whispering again?”

“I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Gabby…you can’t be serious. Is this why you’ve fought me so hard on book tours? How you can live with two completely separate identities? And why would you want to?”

Turning out of his hold, Gabby moved to the stool she had behind the counter and perched one perfect ass-cheek on it
. Sitting as she was with one worn brown cowboy boot on the bottom rung of the stool, the other flat on the concrete floor, her perfectly ripped 501’s and a fitted V-neck T-shirt, Gabby James could have been posing for a Country Outfitter’s ad. Knowing her like he did, Shane was sure Gabby would smack him for stating the obvious.

He could only hope she was more absorbed with her own thoughts than with him at the moment
. There were times, when a person knew they should stick with their gut instinct, as he should have this morning when he dressed. He had laid his favorite pair of jeans in his suitcase, opting for dress pants for their initial meeting. However, jeans wouldn’t have tented so damn bad. The zipper may have caused him more pain initially, but he wouldn’t be standing there with a raging hard-on that was obvious to anyone still breathing.

Shane
couldn’t tear his mind from the woman he was inches away. Letting out a slow breath, Shane brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear so she couldn’t hide behind the dark wall. Expecting sadness, he got a hot glare he was sure was intended to back him up a few steps. He winked instead.

“Why can’t you be like everyone else?
” She swiped at the hand that had come to rest on her shoulder.

He caught himself doing something stupid,
for stupid’s sake. Leaning into her, his cheek brushing hers, Shane whispered, “Because I like you.”

Even though he had two options, Shane pulled back to
witness Gabby’s reaction to his claim firsthand. Only because he knew kissing her would have landed him smacked, or worse, punched. Indeed, her eyes were as wide as silver dollars, her mouth gaping at his one line truth. A quirky ringtone sounded on a cell phone, and the moment vanished as pure panic overtook her.

Her hands felt around the counter, lifting the newspaper to reveal the still vibrating cell
. “John?”

“Gabby, honey
. I don’t want to be a bother.”

She let out a rush of air, thankful he sounded all right
. “Stop it right now. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I need to, oh this is so embarrassing—”

“John,” she demanded, but his slurred speech made his response slower than her blood pressure could handle. Still she waited as he got it out.

“I accidentally locked my…oh hell…my bathroom door
. I can’t get in the damn thing. Years ago when this happened Laura still lived at home and I had to shove her through the small window from the outside. Would you mind asking that nice fellow of yours to please come down and help? I would greatly appreciate it.”

She was not above calling him out on the carpet for his dirty trick, or calling him a host of foul names
. “You…oh no. Don’t you even dare—”

“Thanks
, Gabby.”

Click.

Silence. Even though the line was dead, she swore she could hear John laughing from his little bungalow a block away. She had warned him, and still the old man outsmarted her. “I’ll be damned.” She shook her head, staring at the now black screen of her cell. “I’ll kill that man myself. He won’t have to worry about old age getting to him first.”

“Gabby
? Um…should I remind you that the police station is right over there? I mean, well, since you are technically plotting someone’s demise?”

Shit
.
Shane. She’d forgotten about his presence again. Tapping the toe of her boot on the wood floor, she let explanations circle around in her head before speaking. None seemed to make any more sense than the fucking truth.
Oh hell
.

Blowing out a puff of hot air, her bangs lifted momentarily but fell back into place, their dark shield
was something from her past she couldn’t let go of. Never one for ponytails, or long grown out bangs that could be swept dramatically off her face, Gabby preferred the length and shield the bangs of her decade-long hairstyle provided. Right now, with a narrowed eye on Shane’s creased forehead, her hair almost reached her matching dark eyelashes.

She needed him
. Fuck that. John—no
John
needed him, and if Gabby had a million dollars, she’d go all in betting John had set her up. She knew him too well. He wasn’t some poor, lonely old man. He was playing matchmaker—with
her
. Apparently Shane wasn’t the only one with a death wish on this bright and sunny morning.

Rolling her eyes, she
dragged in a deep breath and held it. This was going to be more painful than eating glass…forget pasting on a fake smile, Gabby simply let her lip rise in the nasty snarl she had no power in hiding and forced the words out.

“I need
—” She let the air slip from her slowly, cringing as she asked, giving him leverage she was petrified of him having. “Your help.”