Threads Of Desire (Creative Hearts Book 3) (10 page)

Just as he was finishing cutting the bread, Gabby turned from the stove and handed him his food with that damned easy cat-that-ate-the-canary smile of hers. “Eat up.”

He took the plate from her, then felt awkward, never having shared a quiet meal with her in this way without the buffer of other people. Nick almost wished the annoying music was back up to blasting. He glanced over to the small dining table that Gabby currently had piled high with papers and more fabric swatches. “We’re eating at the counter?”

Gabby gave him a shrug. “Sure, if you don’t mind. That’s what I usually do. Steve’s not home for dinner all that much with his work schedule so it’s mostly just me grabbing a bite alone. And as you can see, the table and the couch are occupied.” She looked over to the dining table and bit her lip. The gesture was actually quite pretty and altogether way too sensuous for its own good. “I’m sorry about the mess on the table. Well, the mess all over. I’ve just got a crazy amount of work that I have to get through. It’s not usually this bad.”

Nick smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine. I understand. Things sort of blew up this week for me at work too. Besides, it’s your apartment. I’m the one inconveniencing you.”

He noticed she didn’t answer that; instead, she just looked at him before blinking and flipping the mood on him once again. “Well, come on. You’re the guest—give it a try,” she said, pointing to the plate before him.

He looked down. This was definitely not his usual fare, but then again what else should he expect but the unexpected from Gabby? “So tell me what am I eating?”

“It’s my round-the-way modified version of chicken tikka masala.” She grinned. “Maybe a little more tikka, maybe a little more masala. Who knows? I can never make the same dish twice, since I’m not the best with measuring or writing things down.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that as the aroma wafted up and surrounded him, the spices intoxicating. “Why am I not surprised by this?”

She grinned. “That’s the whole point. The element of surprise. Life can get monotonous enough.” Gabby pointed her fork his way. “Now stop stalling and try it.”

Nick picked up his fork and dipped it in, taking a tentative bite, getting a bit of chicken, some rice, and some sauce. The combo hit him in a rush. It was delicious. The rice was lighter, smoother, and more aromatic than he was used to, and the chicken was unlike any he’d ever tasted. Cooked to perfection, it was so tender it melted in his mouth, and so flavorful with the creamy, but just spicy enough to have him take notice, tomato sauce. He thought he just may fall off the little counter stool. And then the after-kick hit him, making him cough and grin at the same time.

He looked at Gabby who was smiling now too, her big brown eyes wide and full of anticipation. “It’s nice to be surprised once in a while, isn’t it?”

Okay, so she got him. On that point he had to agree, but he wouldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t. Nick told himself that the lump in his throat was due to the curry or maybe it was the pepper she’d used. Instead, he swallowed down hard and nodded. “It’s delicious.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Though I hate to admit it, I will say it now and only once: I was wrong.”

Gabby clapped her hands at that and jumped from her stool. “Well, that calls for a toast.” She went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. “Drink?”

He instantly went on edge, but pushed it back down and nodded. This was an easygoing night. He’d be fine. As long as he kept himself in check. “Sure.”

Gabby raised a glass to his defeat before they tucked back into dinner.

“Have you heard from my brother?” Nick asked this tentatively, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer to the question or not, his misplaced jealousy still a simmer in his belly.

When Gabby and Steve were together, there was always an easiness and a closeness—a trust that Nick had never had with anyone, male or female. For years it’d rubbed at him, but he knew it was good for Steve.

When they lost their mother as teenagers, it had been devastating. But Nick was older and stronger. He could take it; Steve was always the more sensitive one. Mom’s baby. It was right that he’d turn to his female friend for comfort. Gabby was there like a sister and became Steve’s confidante, filling the void that their mother had left. That his father couldn’t with his womanizing and philandering. He knew Steve had needed her, that she was the emotional crutch he needed. Nick was not that type.

“Hey, there.”

His eyes popped up. For a moment he was surprised to see her there, lost in his own thoughts like he was.

“Hey, where did you go? One moment you were here, and the next you were gone.”

He shook his head, embarrassed at being caught unawares. The way she was looking at him made him worried that she’d seen too much. “I’m sorry,” he said, quickly coming up with an excuse to cover. “I was just thinking about work. I got a new client today, and it’s a family thing that could get messy. I was distracted for a moment.”

Gabby pursed her lips and her eyes went heavenward. She blew out a breath of air. “Yeah, I know how that is. I have my own situation at my job. Dealing with a family can be awful.”

He leaned over and topped off her wine. “Care to talk about it?”

She looked pensive for a moment and for a second Nick let himself get hopeful. He thought she was going to share with him, but then she looked back in his eyes. He saw the distrust come up and watched the curtain fall. Disappointment washed over him. “Not really. Actually, I should get back to work.” She took a long sip of her wine and he watched how her lips cupped the rim of the glass and then her tongue, quick as a whip, snuck out to lick the residue from the side corners. He felt his jaw clench.

“Good idea.” He stood and began to gather the dishes but she held up a hand to stop him.

“No, you don’t have to do that.”

“Come on. You cooked—the least I can do is clean up. Please let me.” He nodded toward the living room. “You get back to work.”

• • •

Gabby tried her best to concentrate, but it was irritatingly hard with Nick’s presence looming in her kitchen. The normally comfortable apartment that seemed easy and right with Steve now felt stuffy and hot, and everything seemed out of place and overdone.

Finally she heard the water go off, but then there was a too-long stretch of quietness, and she turned around, her skin prickling. There he was, watching her. Again. “Is there something you need?”

“Those are… interesting.”

Gabby smirked and looked down at her paper, shaking her head. “Just the compliment every designer wants to hear.”

He took a step around the now-gleaming counter, his presence overpowering her more as he drew near. “I didn’t mean anything by that. At least not negative, like you’re thinking.”

She looked up at him, flipping back a wayward curl. “It sure sounded like you did.” Then she looked down at what she was doing, taking in the same old shirring, the centrally placed epaulettes, the blouson jumpsuits, and let out a muffled curse. “Oh fuck.” She mumbled it to herself, though she knew the sound traveled over to him.

“What is it?” He came over and sat beside her, taking the sketch from her hand. Gabby turned to him, meeting his dark, deep-set eyes. So much like Steve’s, but then not. Nick’s had that edge, that something that went just a little deeper to the dark side of dangerous. Something that made her want to step in, but she knew if she did, she may just get lost in them, and no way was she risking going there again.

“It’s nothing, you’re right, the sketches are… interesting, as you say. Interesting to the point of tacky, but hey, they pay the bills and you can’t knock the hustle, right?” She fought to keep her voice light.

He frowned, staring at her sketch of the purple jumpsuit with the midriff appliqué and harem-style pants. He handed it back to her and flashed a half smile, half grimace. “You don’t have to tell me about the hustle. I know all about that.”

She took the paper, careful to avoid his fingers. But she noticed something in his voice—there was a tension there. 
Leave it alone, Gab,
 she told herself before immediately dismissing her own advice. “Oh? How would you know about that?”

He cocked his head to the side and licked his lips. It was damned sexy, that lip lick thing he did. She blinked; she wasn’t here to get wrapped up in his sexy lip licking or his deep-set eyes. If they were going to be domicile partners for a while, she wanted to get inside his brain. See what made Mr. Perfect Nick tick.

“Well?” She purposely added that edge of challenge to her voice that she knew grated on him.

He narrowed his eyes. Good. That little bit of concern when he first sat down was gone. She didn’t need that from him. She didn’t need him pretending they were friends. They were much better this way. She smiled.

“Do you always have to give me shit, Gabby? Can’t we just be civilized? I’m trying to be a friend here.”

Gabby pulled back. She was surprised by him being so straightforward. “So am I,” she said, adding a touch of sugar to her voice. “Didn’t I just serve you up a delicious meal?”

He let out a short sigh. “Yeah and now you’re trying to give me grief when I’m just trying to have conversation. 
Trying
 to be nice to you.”

Gabby felt that old anger that she’d tried too hard to call on before, come back to the surface with his words. “Trying? I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself or go out of your way. It’s not like I’m still your little 
charity case
 from way back when.”

She saw him stiffen and knew he went back to the past right along with her. Back to Bonnersville and their night. He never knew she’d heard the words spoken when he’d left that closet but she had. She’d heard his cute little perfect girlfriend call him so sweet for looking out for Gabby. Saying he was such a do-gooder and that philanthropy was exactly what her family legacy was all about.

As if just fucking her tears away in the closet was an act of charity.

“Shit, Gabby.” Nick shook his head and let out a low curse. “Is my every word going to be scrutinized by you while I’m in this house? Because I really don’t need it. I’ve got enough pressure with all I’m dealing with at work and now the fucked-up Claire situation to contend with. I don’t need to be constantly walking on eggshells with you.”

Something in Gabby’s gut clenched when he said the perfect blonde’s name, but she fought to push it aside. She had no right or reason to have any care about Nick’s relationships. She made a mental note to put that on repeat in her mind and let out a breath. “You know what? You’re right. You have no reason to walk on eggshells around me,” she said. “Just like you have no reason to try and be nice to me.”

“Oh please! Don’t be so goddamned sensitive. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh really? And how would I know that?”

Nick opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but abruptly stopped. He looked at her hard, pinning her with his eyes. It was like he was stuck searching for the words and opting to let his eyes do the talking instead. His gaze traveled south from her eyes to her lips and then back to her eyes again. Gabby’s face grew heated as she felt a blush bloom from deep in her belly, causing her nipples to harden and her muscles to tighten. She felt her cheeks flame up and she knew this time she couldn’t blame it on the faulty air conditioner. She bit her lip as the feelings threatened to overpower her—feelings that at her age she should have control over.

She took a long breath and let it out, forcing her mind to politics and reality TV, even Donovan. Anything to douse the threatening fire. Finally she found the strength to be the first to turn away in the game of chicken. Gabby blinked and wiped at her brow. “You know what? It’s hot and it’s getting late, and we’re being stupid. This is getting us nowhere. I’m cool, you’re cool, let’s just leave it at that. Cool?”

Nick cleared his throat again. His voice came out in a husky whisper. “Would it make you happy if I left? If I checked into a hotel or something until I got my living situation sorted out?”

Yes,
 her mind told her. 
A million times yes
.

But the words wouldn’t come out. She swallowed and looked away. Felt irrational tears threaten behind her eyes.

And then Nick reached out and tipped her chin up at him, forcing her gaze back to his. “Gabrielle, I asked you a question. Is that what would make you happy?”

Damn. She knew she should have just eaten and then packed it in to bed. Put some distance between the two of them. With all that heat smoldering, just one little breeze and it would turn to flame. She shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t make me happy.”

He inched nearer, his body suddenly close. Way too close. “Then tell me what would.”

Gabby backed up. Or did she inch closer to him? Oh hell, did she really inch closer to him? Stupid body! She backed up.

Nick chuckled. “Your first reaction was better. Your body knows what you want to do.”

She put up a hand, hitting his harder-than-it-should-have-been chest. “Good thing my mind has more sense than my body.” But as the words came out, Gabby wasn’t even half convinced of them. Then he licked those lips again and, freaking all to hell, she did the same. It really was hot in here. He leaned in and then there he was—or better yet there his lips were. On hers. He was soft and tentative, but only for a moment, as if testing to see if she would lash out and bite him.