Mom for the CEO's Daughter (5 page)

“I'm sorry. I just can't trust. And if you decide to be with me, that's something you're going to have to accept as part of the deal.”

“You think this is a deal?”

“You think this isn't?”

She glanced around wildly, her poor unloved heart knotting in her chest. He thought of their relationship as a business deal? And why not? That's how he looked at everything.

“You know what? I'm going home.”

Chapter Eight

The sound of the front door closing barely registered in Gabe's confused mind. By the time it had, he'd raced to the entryway but the taxi in front of his house was already driving off.

Holding the Mother's Day card his daughter had made for Kara, he backed away from the front door slowly. His heart jackhammered in his chest. His pulse thumped. His brain overloaded.

In a few days, Kara had gone from being his assistant to being a woman—a very attractive woman he was interested in romantically. They'd shared three kisses. They'd also bonded on a level that took them beyond friends. But was it enough to consider something serious? To bring her into Stacy's life on a regular basis? To allow his little girl to grow attached to her? To let himself grow attached to her?

Just the thought sent fear skittering down his spine. He'd been burned. When his ex had left him and Stacy, he'd walked around his house like a zombie for three weeks before he'd pulled himself together. After that, he'd vowed to protect himself from that ever happening again. And Kara believed a few kisses changed all that?

He headed to the kitchen. “Stacy! Let's get our bathing suits on. Maybe we can find the triplets.”

They left the beach house ten minutes later. The McKenzies weren't anywhere in sight, so he and Stacy began building a sandcastle. But every time he went for water to fill the bucket, he remembered how this had been Kara's first ever trip to the ocean. Remembered the laughter in her eyes and the excitement in her voice.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't be missing her already. It hadn't even been an hour. And they hadn't been involved that long—

Unless you counted the year they worked together.

Kara did.

Sadness seized him. He hadn't wanted to hurt her.

But he had. He knew he had.

That's why she'd left.

But he had a four-year-old daughter to care for. He couldn't go chasing after her. Which was probably a good thing, since he didn't want what Kara obviously wanted. “So, what should we do this afternoon?”

Stacy shrugged. “I don't care. Maybe watch TV.”

Even his daughter missed her. With his own heart aching and the future yawning before him like a big, black blob, he couldn't cheer her up any more than he could cheer himself.

He put Stacy to bed around eight that night and meandered out to the deck. Memories of Kara standing next to him at this railing rolled through his brain. Her innocent trust killed him. Why couldn't he trust her in return? Why couldn't he even try to trust her?

A picture of waking beside her formed in his head. More beach trips. Less working and more breakfasts, lunches and dinners with her and Stacy. A real life.

His heart tripped over itself in his chest. Life with her would be so wonderful. But hoping for a future was one thing. Actually getting it was another.

“You should go get her, Daddy.”

He swung from the deck railing to see Stacy standing just outside the door.

“It's not always that easy, Pumpkin.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” He stopped. He could envision their life together so clearly in his head. He could picture them getting old together—

Getting old together? He'd never been able to picture himself and Stacy's mother staying together forever. But he could imagine himself and Kara together—forever.

He trusted her.

He trusted her!

And he was only kidding himself if he thought he wasn't in love. He was. Stacy was right. He should go after her.

But he also knew he'd hurt her. Humiliated her. Embarrassed her.

Why would she ever take him back?

***

When Kara stepped into her private office at Fulton Everything on Monday morning, she realized staying on as Gabe's assistant wasn't an option.

The big double-door entrance to his office was right behind her desk. How could she sit there for ten or twelve hours a day, bantering with him, knowing he didn't even want to try to love her?

Hideous. That's how.
Humiliating
.

Pushing the week's worth of mail aside, she sat and started her computer to compose her letter of resignation. She didn't want him to come home and talk her into continuing to work with him. Loving him when he had been oblivious to it had been bad enough. Loving him when he knew she loved him would be hell. If he hadn't pitied her before, he would now, and she refused to spend her life that way. Pathetic. Sad.

She typed the letter quickly, put it on his desk, grabbed her purse and pulled out her cell phone. What she needed was a real vacation. By herself. Before she got another job.

With a few clicks, she found an app that gave a direct route to Charleson. She paused. Was it wise to go back to the town where
he
had a beach house? She should probably pick another location.

Busy scrolling through maps, she walked out of her office, down a hallway, into the busy hub in front of the elevators. Weaving through and around groups of chatting people as she looked at her phone, she ran into someone.

Strong hands steadied her. She looked up to apologize, only to realize she'd walked into Gabe.

She glanced down. “Sorry.”

“I'm sorry, too.”

The remorseful tone of his voice was a bit of overkill for a simple collision. She peeked up into his pretty blue eyes.

“I know I hurt you.”

Oh, God! No. Was he about to apologize again, in front of everybody, and to explain why he didn't love her?

Now she wouldn't just have personal humiliation to deal with. She'd have public humiliation.

She pushed away from him. “Don't worry about it. I'm a scrapper. I'll get by.” Pivoting, she raced into the elevator behind them. She quickly pressed the button for the lobby.

He jumped inside just before the doors snapped closed. The elevator began its descent. He punched the stop button and the little car jerked to a halt.

“I
am
sorry.”

“Great. Fine. Thanks.” Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes but she'd die before she'd let them fall. “Now, if you don't mind,” she hit the button to start the elevator. “I want to get going.”

He stopped the elevator again. “You're not hearing what I'm telling you.”

Embarrassed, infuriated, she had to suck in a breath to keep her voice level. “What are you telling me?”

“I'm apologizing for hurting you, but I'm also sorry I let you get away. Because I need you.”

“If you think I'm working for you after—”

He caught her arms, hauled her to him and kissed her. She held herself stiffly at first but eventually melted against him. The instant she acquiesced, he pulled away.

Bumping his forehead against hers, he said, “I'm sorry.”

She licked her lips. Her heart thundered in her chest. Part of her wanted to believe him so badly that even breathing hurt. The other part was well aware life didn't always turn out the way you wanted.

Pressing his palms to her cheeks, he forced her to look at him. “I love you.”

Her thundering heart stopped. “What?”

“And I'm already serious about you. This past year together I've grown to trust you. I don't merely love you. I trust you. I trust you won't leave me. You might change once you start living in my world, but we'll change together. Because being a couple will change us.”

A laugh bubbled up and spilled out of her. “That is what happens to normal people.”

He slid his arm around her shoulder. “Oh, we'll never be normal.”

“But we'll be happy.”

He smiled. “Yes. We'll be happy.”

He reached for the elevator button, but paused. “Up or down?”

“Always up.”

“Back to work?”

She snuggled against him. “You have something else in mind?”

He whispered in her ear and she laughed gaily. No. They would never be bored, unhappy or dull. They would be fun, happy. They'd raise Stacy together. Give her more siblings. And always be in love.

“Let's go home.”

“I hope you mean home to the beach house because I told Stacy we'd be back before five. You know she won't stay overnight with the McKenzies.”

She laughed again. “Beach house it is.”

THE END