Harlequin Special Edition September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Maverick for Hire\A Match Made by Baby\Once Upon a Bride (33 page)

Irene laughed. “It's not that bad, surely?”

“Time will tell,” she replied, and managed a rueful grin. “I don't know why he can't go into a boarding kennel like other dogs.”

“You're brother says he pines when he's away from home,” Irene told her. “And it's only until the house sitter returns, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” Lauren said, and sighed. “Gabe is taking him to the surf club today, so at least my patio furniture is safe while I'm here.”

Her mother's eyes widened. “Gabe is? Really?”

Of course her mother knew Gabe Vitali. She'd mentioned him several times over the past six months. Irene Jakowski was always on the lookout for a new son-in-law, since the old one hadn't worked out. The fact he'd bought the house next door was like gold to a matchmaking parent.

“Matka,”
Lauren warned, using the Polish word for
mother
when she saw the familiar gleam in her mother's eyes. “Stop.”

“I was only—”

“I know what you're doing,” Lauren said, smiling. “Now, let's get the store open.”

* * *

By the time Gabe returned home that afternoon, he was short on patience and more than happy to hand Jed over to his neighbor. Damned dog had chewed his car keys, his sneakers and escaped twice through the automatic doors at the clubhouse.

When he pulled into the driveway, he spotted the fencing contractor he'd called earlier that day parked across the lawn. He locked Jed in Lauren's front garden and headed back to his own yard. He was twenty minutes into his meeting with the contractor when she arrived home. Gabe was in the front yard with the tradesman, talking prices and time frames, as the older man began pushing at the low timber fence that separated the two allotments and then wrote in a notepad.

She walked around the hedge and met him by the letterbox, eyeing the contractor's battered truck suspiciously. “What's going on?” she asked, looking all business in her black skirt and white blouse.

“A new fence,” Gabe supplied and watched her curiosity quickly turn into a frown.

“I wasn't aware
we
needed a new one.”

“This one's falling down,” he said, and introduced her to the contractor before the other man waved his notepad and said he'd get back to him tomorrow.

Once the battered truck was reversing from the yard, she clamped her hands to her hips. “Shouldn't we have discussed it first?”

“It's only an estimate,” he told her. “Nothing's decided yet.”

She didn't look convinced. “Really?”

“Really,” he assured her. “Although the fence does need replacing.”

Her eyes flashed. “I know it's my responsibility to pay for half of any fence that's built, but at the moment I'm—”

Gabe shook his head. “I intend to pay for the fence, should it come to that.”

She glared at him, then the fence, then back to him. “You don't get to decide that for me,” she snapped, still glaring.

He looked at her, bemused by her sudden annoyance. “I don't?”

“It's my fence, too.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I was only—”

“Taking over? And probably thinking I couldn't possibly afford it and then feeling sorry for me, right?”

He had a whole lot of feelings churning through his blood when it came to Lauren Jakowski...pity definitely wasn't one of them. “Just being neighborly,” he said, and figured he shouldn't smile, even though he wanted to. “But hey, if you want to pay for half the fence, go ahead.”

“I will,” she replied through tight lips. “Just let me know how much and when.”

“Of course,” he said.

She huffed a little. “Good. And have you been messing around with my gate?”

Ah.
So the real reason why she looked like she wanted to slug him. “Yes, I fixed your gate this morning.”

“Because?”

“Because it was broken,” he replied, watching her temper flare as the seconds ticked by.
And broken things should be fixed.
He'd spent most of his adult life fixing things.
Fixing people.
But she didn't know that. And he wasn't about to tell her. “No point risking more splinters.”

“I liked my gate how it was,” she said, hands still on hips.

Gabe raised a brow. “Really?”

She scowled. “Really.”

“You're mad at me because I repaired your gate?”

“I'm mad at you because it wasn't your gate to repair. I don't need anyone to fix things. I don't need a white knight, okay?”

A white knight? Yeah, right. But there was an edge of vulnerability in her voice that stopped him from smiling. Was she broken? Was that part of what drew him to her? Like meets like? He knew she was divorced, and at her brother's wedding she'd admitted her marriage hadn't been a happy one. But Gabe didn't want to speculate. And he didn't want to ask. The less he knew, the better.

“Okay,” he said simply.

For a moment, he thought she might argue some more. Instead, she dropped her gaze and asked an obvious question. “What happened to your shoe?”

He glanced down. The back of his left sneaker was torn and the lace was missing. “Jed.”

She looked up again, and he saw her mouth curve. “Was that the only damage?”

“Other than chewing my car keys and making a run for it whenever he got the chance.”

She moaned softly. “Sorry about that. I'll get Cameron to replace them when he gets back.”

Gabe shrugged. “No need. It's only a shoe.”

She nodded, turned and walked back around the hedge. Gabe shook his shoulders and made a concerted effort to forget all about her.

And failed.

* * *

I really need to stop reacting like that.

Lauren was still thinking it forty minutes later when she emerged from the shower and pulled on frayed gray sweats. Her reaction, or rather her
overreaction,
to Gabe's news about the fence was amplified by his interference with her gate.

She didn't want him fixing things.

Lauren didn't want
any
man fixing things.

It was a road she'd traveled before. She knew what she wanted and white knights need not apply. Her ex-husband had tried to fix things—to fix her—and it had ended in disaster.

James Wallace had ridden into her life in his carpenter's truck, all charm and good looks. He'd arrived at The Wedding House to make repairs to the changing rooms, and she'd been unexpectedly drawn to his blatant flirting. An hour later, she'd accepted his invitation to go out with him that night. They ended up at a local bistro for drinks and then dinner, and by midnight he'd kissed her in the car park, and she was halfway in lust with him.

Three months later, she had a fairy-tale wedding.

Even though it was the wedding she'd planned to have to someone else.

To Tim. Sweet, handsome Tim Mannering. Her first love. Her only love. He had been her college boyfriend and the man she'd intended to marry. They'd made plans for the future. They'd talked about everything from building their dream home, taking an African-safari vacation, to how many kids they would have. They'd loved one another deeply and promised each other the world.

Except Tim had died three weeks before their wedding.

And Lauren walked down the aisle with another man less than two years later.

She swallowed the tightness in her throat. Thinking about Tim still filled her with sadness. And she was sad about James, too. She should never have married him. She hadn't loved him. They'd shared a fleeting attraction that had faded just months into their marriage. They'd had little in common and very different dreams. Within a year, James was gone, tired of what he called her
cold, unfeeling heart.
And Lauren was alone once more.

But she still hoped to share her life with someone. And she wanted the children she'd planned for since the day she and Tim had become engaged. Only next time, Lauren was determined to go into it with her eyes wide-open and not glazed over by romantic illusions. What she'd had with James wasn't enough. And what she'd had with Tim had left her broken inside. Now all she wanted was the middle road. Just mutual respect, trust and compatibility. No fireworks. No deep feelings. Lust was unreliable. Love was painful when lost.

There was nothing wrong with settling. Nothing at all. Settling was safe. All she had to do was remember what she wanted and why. And forget all about Gabe Vitali and his glittering blue eyes and broad shoulders. Because he was pure heartbreak material. And her heart wasn't up for grabs.

Not now.

Not ever again.

Chapter Three

G
abe went to his cousin's for dinner Wednesday night and expected the usual lecture about his life. Scott Jones was family and his closest friend, and even though he knew the other man's intentions were born from a sincere interest in his well-being, Gabe generally pulled no punches when it came to telling his cousin to mind his own business.

Scott's wife, Evie, was pure earth mother. She was strikingly attractive and possessed a calm, generous spirit. Gabe knew his cousin was besotted with his wife and baby daughter, and he was genuinely happy for him.

“How's the house coming along?” Scott asked over a beer while Evie was upstairs putting little Rebecca down for the night.

Gabe pushed back in the kitchen chair. “Fine.”

“Will you stay there permanently?”

“I doubt it,” he replied.

“Still can't see you renovating the place yourself,” Scott said, and grinned.

Gabe frowned. “I can fix things.”

Like Lauren's gate, which hadn't gone down so well. He should have left it alone. But she'd hurt herself on the thing and he didn't want that happening again. There was no harm in being neighborly.

“Job still working out?”

Gabe shrugged one shoulder. “Sure.”

Scott grinned again. “And how's it going with your next-door neighbor?”

He knew his cousin was fishing. He'd told him a little about the incident at the wedding, and Scott knew he'd bought the house next door. Clearly, he'd told him too much. “Fine.”

“I like Lauren,” Scott said, and smiled.

Gabe didn't respond. He didn't have to. His cousin spoke again.

“You do, too, judging by the look on your face.”

Gabe didn't flinch. “You know my plans. They haven't changed.”

“Your five-year plan?” Scott's eyes widened. “Still think you can arrange life to order?” He looked to the ceiling, clearly thinking about his family upstairs. “No chance.”

“I know what I'm doing.”

It sounded good, at least. Pity he didn't quite believe it.

“You know she's divorced?” Scott asked.

“Yes.”

Scott nodded. “Evie knows more about it than I do. And, of course, about the other guy.”

His head came up. The other guy? “I don't—”

“He died about five years ago,” his cousin said, and drank some beer. “They were engaged, that's all I know.”

Gabe's insides contracted. So she'd lost someone. And married someone else. The wrong someone else. It explained the haunted, vulnerable look shading her brown eyes. But he didn't want to know any more. Hadn't he already decided the less he knew, the better?

“Not my business.”

Scott's eyebrows shot up. “So no interest at all?”

He shrugged again. “No.”

Scott chuckled. “You're a lousy liar.”

I'm a great liar.
His whole life was a lie. Gabe stood and scraped the chair back. “Thanks for the beer.”

He left shortly after, and by the time he pulled into his own driveway, it was past ten o'clock. There were lights on next door, and when he spotted a shadowy silhouette pass by the front window, Gabe fought the way his stomach churned thinking about her. He didn't want to be thinking, imagining or anything else. Lauren Jakowski was a distraction he didn't need.

And he certainly didn't expect to find her on his doorstep at seven the next morning.

But there she was. All perfection and professionalism in her silky blue shirt and knee-length black skirt. Once he got that image clear in his head, Gabe noticed she wasn't alone. Jed sat on his haunches at her side.

“Am I stretching the boundaries of friendship?” she asked, and held out the lead.

He nodded. Were they friends now? No. Definitely not. “Absolutely.”

She chewed at her bottom lip. “I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.”

Gabe shrugged. “What's the big emergency?”

She exhaled heavily. “He chewed off a piece of my sofa and broke the table in the living room when I left him home on Tuesday. Then he terrorized my parents' cat when I left him there yesterday. Mary-Jayne said she'd take him tomorrow and Saturday. She's got a fully enclosed yard and a dog, which will keep him company. But today I'm all out of options. I can't take him to the store and...and...I don't know what else to do.”

Her frustration was clear, and Gabe knew he'd give her exactly what she wanted. Because saying no to Lauren was becoming increasingly difficult. “Okay.”

“O-okay?” she echoed hesitantly.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Relief flooded her face. “Thanks. I...I owe you for this.”

Gabe shrugged again. He didn't want her owing him anything. Owing could lead to collecting...and that was out of the question. “No problem,” he said, and took the lead.

“So dinner?” she asked and took a step back. “Tonight. I'll cook. My way of saying thanks.”

His back straightened. “You don't need to—”

“I insist,” she said quickly, and then looked as though she was itching to get away. “Say, seven o'clock?”

She left, and Gabe didn't go back inside until she disappeared around the hedge.

* * *

Dinner. Great idea.
Not.

What were you thinking?

Lauren spent the day chastising herself and making sure she didn't let on to her mother that she'd somehow invited Gabe into the inner sanctum of her house, her kitchen and her solitary life. But she'd made the offer and it was too late to back out now. Besides, he was doing her a favor looking after the dog. Dinner really was the least she could do in return. He'd helped her out, and it was her way of saying thank-you. It was nothing. Just a simple meal between neighbors.

Only, simple seemed at odds with the way her nerves rattled just thinking about it.

She stopped by the supermarket on the way home, and by the time she pulled into the driveway, it was nearly six. She jumped into the shower, dried off, applied a little makeup and changed into loose-fitting cargo pants and a red knit top. By six-thirty she was in the kitchen marinating steaks and prepping a salad. And ignoring the knot in the pit of her stomach as best she could.

The doorbell rang at exactly seven o'clock.

Jed rushed down the hallway the moment she opened the door, clearly eager to get to his food bowl in the laundry.

“Hi,” she said, and stepped back.

“Hi, yourself,” Gabe said as he crossed the threshold.

He closed the door, and she didn't linger. Instead, she pivoted on her heels and headed back to the kitchen. By the time she'd made her way back behind the countertop, he was by the door, watching her. She looked up and met his gaze. He looked so good in his jeans and navy T-shirt, her breath stuck in her throat. She noticed a tattoo braid that encircled one biceps peeking out from the edge of his sleeve. She'd never liked ink much, but it suited him. It was sexy. Everything about Gabe was sexy. His broad shoulders, black hair, dazzling blue eyes... The combination was devastating. And dangerous.

Be immune to sexy.

He moved and rested against the door frame, crossing his arms, and Lauren was instantly absorbed by the image it evoked.

“You know, you really shouldn't look at me like that,” he said, and Lauren quickly realized she'd been caught staring. Or ogling. “I might start thinking you aren't serious about that vow of yours.”

Her skin warmed. “Don't flatter yourself.”

His lips curled at the edges. “I never do.”

“I don't believe that for a second.”

“Then what do you believe, Lauren?” he asked, and met her gaze.

“I don't know what you mean.”

His stare was unwavering. “I think you do.”

“You're talking about what you overheard at the wedding?” She shrugged as casually as she could manage. “I thought we'd agreed not to talk about that.”

He half smiled. “Did we? You said you wanted a passionless relationship.”

Her breath caught. She didn't want to talk about that with him. Not when her pulse was racing so erratically. She remembered how he knew her secrets. He knew what she wanted. “Yes,” she replied and hated that it tasted like a lie. “Passion is overrated.”

“Do you think?” he asked quietly, his intense gaze locked with hers. “And chemistry?”

“Even more overrated.”

“That's a handy line when you're in denial.”

She tried but couldn't drag her gaze away. “I'm not in denial,” she insisted. “About...anything.”

About you.
That was what she meant. And he knew it, too.

“Good,” he said, almost as though he was trying to convince himself. “Shall I open this?” he asked, and gestured to the wine bottle he carried.

Lauren nodded and grabbed two glasses and a corkscrew from the cupboard, laying them on the counter. “How do you like your steak?”

“Medium rare,” he replied. “You?”

She shrugged. “Same. Did Jed behave himself today? No disasters? No sacrificial sneakers?”

He grinned and grabbed the corkscrew. “It was moderately better than the last time.”

She laughed softly. “He's usually very civilized when Cameron is around.”

“He's pining,” Gabe said, and popped the cork. “Missing the people he loves most. It's natural he would.”

Lauren nodded. “You're right. And it's only for a few more days. I heard from Cameron's house sitter this morning, and she's flying back into Bellandale on Sunday afternoon.”

He passed her a glass of wine, and Lauren's fingers tingled when they briefly touched his. If he noticed, he didn't show it. “How long have you lived here?” he asked.

“Just over a year.”

“It's...nice. My sister, Bianca, would love it,” he said easily and rested against the countertop. “She's into decorating.”

Lauren pulled a couple of plates from the cupboard. “Do you have one of those large Italian-American families?”

“There are four of us. Aaron is thirty five and the eldest. He's divorced and has twin four-year-old boys. And then there's me, three years younger.” He grinned a little. “Then Luca, who's thirty and married to his IT job, and Bianca, who is twenty-six and the baby of the family.”

She nodded. “And your parents?”

“There's only my mom,” he explained, watching her with such blistering intensity, Lauren found it hard to concentrate on preparing their meal. “My dad died fifteen years ago.”

Her expression softened. “I'm sorry. Were you close?”

“Very.”

She nodded again. “What did he—”

“Lung cancer.”

The awful words hung in the air between them, and an old pain jabbed between her ribs. She pushed the memory off as quickly as it came.

“I'm sorry,” she said gently. “I feel very lucky to still have both my parents.”

“And there's only you and Cameron?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “And he's actually my half brother. Our mother married my dad when he was three years old. I would have loved a sister, though. I mean, we're really close, but a big family would be wonderful.”

His gaze absorbed hers. “You want children?”

She nodded. “I always thought I'd like to have three kids.”

He raised a brow. “With
Mr. No-Passion
?”

A smile tugged at his mouth, and Lauren couldn't stop her lips from creasing into a tiny grin. “Maybe. Hopefully. One day.”

He looked at her oddly, as if he wanted to have an opinion about it but was holding his tongue. When he finally spoke, he surprised her. “You'll make a good mom.”

“I... Thank you.” The air crackled, and she avoided eye contact by feigning a deep interest in the salad she'd prepared. When he spoke again, she looked up.

“Need any help?” he asked, and took both wineglasses to the table.

“No,” she replied and plated the food quickly. “I'm nearly done. Take a seat.”

A minute later, she placed the plates on the table and sat down. For one crazy second she thought...no,
imagined...
that the mood between them felt a little like a date.
A first date.

Stupid. They were neighbors. Acquaintances. Nothing more. So what if he was the most attractive man she'd ever met? Attraction hadn't done her any favors in the past. She'd been attracted to James, and that had ended badly for them both. This would be the same. And anything more than attraction was out of the question.

“So did you have a similar job in California?” she asked, determined to steer the conversation away from herself.

“Not really,” he replied vaguely and picked up the utensils. “I worked as a lifeguard part-time at Huntington Beach, near where I lived.”

“Cameron said the place has never run so smoothly. Do you enjoy the work?” she asked.

“Yeah...sure,” he replied casually. “I like the beach,” he said, and when she raised a brow indicating she wanted him to elaborate, he continued. “And I get to teach a few classes, lifeguard on the weekends and juggle paperwork during the week.” He shrugged. “It's not exactly rocket science.”

She was itching to ask him more questions. Cameron had told her he was clearly overqualified for the role at the surf club. She knew he didn't talk about himself much, and that suited her fine. Most of the time. But tonight she was interested. As much as warning bells pealed, she wanted to know more about him. She wanted to know what made him tick. She wanted to know why he'd moved his life from California to Crystal Point.

“Don't you miss your old life? Your friends, your family?”

He looked up. “Of course.”

“I could never leave my family like that,” she said, and knew it sounded like a judgment. She shrugged and sighed a little. “I mean, I'd miss them too much to be away for too long.”