Harlequin Special Edition September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Maverick for Hire\A Match Made by Baby\Once Upon a Bride (36 page)

“So...” Her voice trailed. “Yours or mine?”

Gabe sucked in some air. “I'll drive.”

Her mouth twisted. “Be back in a minute.”

He watched as she moved her car back up the driveway, got out and came around the passenger side of his Jeep. When she got in, the flowery scent of her perfume hit his senses. She buckled up and settled her gaze to the front.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He backed the car onto the road and then came to a halt. He had something to say to her. “Lauren, I want to apologize again for being so dismissive the other day.” He invented an excuse. “I was late for an appointment and—”

She waved a hand. “Like you said, not my business.”

Gabe was tempted to apologize again. But he didn't. He nodded instead. “Okay.”

She flashed him a brief look. “Just so you know, when we turn up together my mother is going to think it's a date.”

“It's not, though,” he said, and drove down the street. “Right?”

“Right,” she replied.

Gabe reconsidered going to the Jakowskis'. He didn't want Lauren's mother getting any ideas. Or Cameron. Whatever he was feeling for Lauren, he had to get it under control. And fast.

* * *

Lauren knew the moment she walked into her mother's kitchen that she was going to get the third degree. Irene had greeted them at the door, explained that Cameron had been called into work and would be joining them later and quickly shuffled Gabe toward the games room to hang out with her father.

Her mother ushered Lauren directly into the kitchen. Grace was there, standing behind the wide granite counter, looking radiant. Her new sister-in-law was exceptionally beautiful. In the past, she'd always considered the other woman frosty and a little unfriendly, but Lauren had warmed toward Grace since it was clear her brother was crazy in love with her, and she with him.

Lauren stepped in beside Grace and began topping her mother's signature baked lemon cheesecake, a task she'd done countless times. Her sister-in-law remained silent, but her mother wasn't going to be held back.

“It's nice that Gabe could join us this evening. He really is quite handsome,” Irene said as she busied herself pulling salad items from the refrigerator. “Don't you think? And such a lovely accent.”

Lauren's gaze flicked up briefly.
“Matka,”
she warned, and half smiled. “Don't.”

But she knew her mother wouldn't give up. “Just stating the obvious.”

“His ancestors are Roman gods,” Lauren said, and grinned. “So of course he looks good.”

Irene laughed softly. “That's the spirit...indulge my matchmaking efforts.”

“Well, there's little point fighting it,” Lauren said with a sigh. “Even though you're wasting your time in this case.”

“Do you think?” her mother inquired, still grinning as she grabbed a tray of appetizers. “Don't be too quick to say no, darling. He might just be the best of both worlds,” Irene said, and smiled. “When you're done decorating that cake, can you grab the big tureen from the cabinet in the front living room?”

Lauren smiled. “Sure,” she replied, and waited until her mother left the room before speaking to her sister-in-law. “See what I have to put up with?”

“She just cares about you,” Grace replied, and covered the potato dish she'd prepared. “And he seems...nice.”

He is nice.
That was the problem. He was also sexy and gorgeous and not the
settle-down
kind of man she was looking for. He'd said as much. And she'd had nice before. Tim had been the nicest, most sincere man she'd ever known. Even James had been nice in his own charming, flirtatious way. The kind of nice she wanted now didn't come with a handsome face and the ability to shoot her libido up like a rocket.

The best of both worlds...

What exactly did her mother mean? That Gabe was attractive, charming, funny and smart and just what any sensible woman would call the
perfect package?

Too perfect. No one was without flaws. Secrets.

Lauren placed the cheesecake in the refrigerator and excused herself. The big living room at the front of the house was rarely used. It housed her mother's treasures, like the twin glass lamps that had been in their family for four generations, and the cabinet of exquisite crockery and dinnerware. Lauren stopped by the mantelpiece and stared at the family photographs lining the shelf. There were more pictures on the long cabinet at the other end of the room. Her mother loved taking pictures.

She fingered the edge of one frame and her insides crunched. It was a snapshot of herself and Tim. He looked so relaxed and cheerful in the photo. They were smiling, pressed close together, his blond hair flopping over his forehead. Had he lived, he would have been soon celebrating his thirtieth birthday. She looked at his face again. It was Lauren's favorite picture of him. Memories surged through her. Memories of love. And regret. And...anger. But she quickly pushed the feeling away. Anger had no place in her heart. Not when it came to Tim.

“You looked happy.”

Lauren swiveled on her heels. Gabe stood behind her. Engrossed in her memories, she hadn't heard his approach. “Sorry?”

“In the picture,” he said, and stepped closer. “You looked happy together.”

“We were,” she said, intensely conscious of his closeness. “That's...Tim,” she explained softly and pointed to the photograph. “He was always happy. Even when he was facing the worst of it, somehow he never lost his sense of humor.”

Gabe's eyes darkened. “Did he pass away quickly?”

She nodded. “In the end...yes. He died just a few weeks before we were due to be married.”

“And then you married someone else?”

“Not quite two years later,” she replied and immediately wondered why she was admitting such things to him. “It was a big mistake.”

Gabe nodded a little. “Because you didn't love him?”

“Exactly,” she said, and sucked in a short breath.

“There must have been something that made you marry him?”

Lauren's skin grew hotter. “Sex.”

His blistering gaze was unwavering. “That's all?”

“I'd had love,” she admitted, so aware of his closeness she could barely breathe. “And I'd lost it. When I met James, I thought attraction would be enough.”

“But it wasn't?”

She sighed. “No.”

“And now you don't want that, either?” he asked.

Lauren raised a shoulder. “I don't expect anyone to understand.”

“Actually,” he said quietly. “I do. You lost the love of your life, then settled for something that left you empty, and now you want to find that no-risk, no-hurt, middle road.”

Middle road?
Could he read her mind? “That's right. I married my ex-husband after only knowing him for three months. It was a foolish impulse and one I regret...for his sake and mine.”

Gabe looked at the mantelpiece. “Which explains why there are no pictures of him.”

“My mother was never a fan of James,” she said, and felt his scrutiny through to her bones. “Once we divorced, the wedding pictures came down.” Lauren looked down to her feet and then back up to his gaze. “Ah...what are you doing in here? I thought you were out on the back patio with my dad.”

“I was,” he replied, and grinned fractionally. “But your mother sent me on a mercy dash to help you carry some kind of heavy dish.”

Lauren rolled her eyes and pointed to the tureen in the cabinet. “My mother is meddling.”

He smiled, like he knew exactly what she meant. “To what end?”

Lauren raised a shoulder. “Can't you guess? I told you she'd think this was a date.”

His gaze widened. “Should I be worried?”

She laughed a little. “That my mother has her sights set on you? Probably.”

Gabe laughed, too, and the sound warmed her right through to the blood in her veins. He was so...likable. So gorgeous. And it scared her. With James, she'd jumped in, libido first, uncaring of the consequences. Still grieving the loss of the man she'd loved, Lauren had found temporary solace in arms that had soon left her feeling empty and alone. Although she'd thought him good-looking and charming, she'd realized soon after they'd married that they had very little in common. But the attraction she had for Gabe was different. The more time she spent with him, the less superficial it felt. Which put her more at risk.

“I shall consider myself warned,” he said, and chuckled.

Lauren walked toward the cabinet and opened the door. “Thanks for being so understanding,” she said, still grinning.

“I, too, have a meddling, albeit well-meaning mother who wants to see me...shall we say,
settled.
So I understand your position.”

For a second, she wondered what else they had in common. He clearly came from a close family, as she did. “Doesn't she know you're not interested in commitment?”

His gaze locked with hers. “I don't think she quite believes me.”

Lauren's breath caught. “Have you...”

“Have I what?”

She shrugged, trying to be casual but churning inside. “Have you changed your mind about that?”

Lauren couldn't believe she'd asked the question. And couldn't believe she wanted to know. Her elbow touched his arm and the contact sent heat shooting across her skin. She should have pulled away. But Lauren remained where she was, immobilized by the connection simmering between them.

“No,” he said after a long stretch of silence. “I haven't.”

Of course, it was what she needed to hear. Gabe wasn't what she wanted. Because he made her feel too much. He made her question the choice she'd made to remain celibate until she found someone to share her life with. He didn't want what she wanted.

He's all wrong for me....

Even though being beside him, alone and in the solitude of the big room, seemed so unbelievably normal, she was tempted to lean closer and invite him to kiss her. His gaze shifted from her eyes to her mouth, and Lauren sucked in a shallow breath. Her lips parted slightly and he watched with such searing intensity, her knees threatened to give way. There was heat between them, the kind that came before a kiss. The kind of heat that might lead to something more.

“Gabe...” She said his name on a sigh.

“We would be crazy to start something,” he warned, unmoving and clearly reading her thoughts.

“I know,” she agreed softly.

Crazy or not, she was strangely unsurprised when he took hold of her hand and gently rubbed his thumb along her palm. He was still watching her, still looking at her mouth.

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

She shivered at his question, despite the warmth racing across her skin. Lauren nodded, feeling the heat between them rise up a notch. “Do you have any idea how much I want you to kiss me right now?”

His hand wrapped around hers. She was staring up, waiting, thinking about how she hadn't been kissed for such a long time. And thinking how Gabe had somehow, in a matter of weeks, become the one man whose kiss she longed for.

Chapter Six

G
abe could have kissed her right then, right there. He could have lost himself in the softness of her lips and sweet taste of her mouth. He could have forgotten about his determination to keep away from her and give in to the desire he experienced whenever she was near. And he would have. But a loud crash followed by an equally loud shout pushed them apart immediately. The dish from the china cabinet was quickly forgotten as they both hurried from the room.

When they reached the kitchen, he saw there was glass and water on the floor and also a pile of tattered flowers. Lauren's father was sitting on the ground, knees half-curled to his chest.

“Dad!” Lauren gasped as she rushed to his side.

Irene and Grace came through the doorway and stood worriedly behind Gabe as he quickly moved between them to settle beside the older man. Franciszek Jakowski was holding up a seriously bleeding hand, and Gabe quickly snatched up a tea towel from the countertop and wrapped it around his palm.

“I knocked the darn vase off the counter,” Franciszek explained as Gabe hauled him to his feet. “Cut myself when I fell.”

“Can you walk?” Gabe asked, knowing he needed to look at the wound immediately.

Franciszek winced as he put weight on his left foot. “Not so good.”

He looked at Lauren. “Hold your father's hand up to help with the bleeding, and I'll get him to a chair.”

She did as he asked, and Gabe hooked an arm around the other man's shoulder and soon got him settled onto the kitchen chair. Blood streamed down his arm and splattered on Gabe's shirt. He undid the towel and examined Franciszek's hand. The cut was deep and would need stitches. Irene disappeared and quickly returned with a first-aid kit. Gabe cleaned and dressed the wound, conscious of the scrutiny of the three women hovering close by. Within minutes, he also had Franciszek's left ankle wrapped with an elastic bandage.

“The cut definitely needs stitches,” he said, and wiped his hands on a cloth Lauren passed him. “And it looks like you've only sprained your ankle, but an X-ray wouldn't hurt just to be sure.”

Irene extolled her gratitude and was on the telephone immediately, making an appointment to see their local doctor within the next half hour.

“I'll drive you,” Lauren volunteered, but her mother quickly vetoed that idea.

“Grace can drive us,” she said, and looked toward her daughter-in-law, who nodded instantly. “You can stay and clean up. And I need you to keep an eye on dinner. We won't be too long.”

“That's for sure,” Franciszek agreed cheerfully, although Gabe was pretty sure the older man was in considerable pain. He patted Gabe's shoulder. “Thanks for the doctoring, son. Much appreciated.”

Gabe's stomach sank. Being reminded of who he was, even though no one but his family knew the truth, hit him like a fist of shame between the shoulder blades. He glanced at Lauren and then looked away. There were questions in her eyes. Questions he had no intention of answering.

It took several minutes to get Franciszek into the car, and when Gabe returned, Lauren was in the kitchen, picking up pieces of shattered glass from the floor. She was concentrating on her task, looking shaken and pale.

“Are you okay?”

She glanced up. “Just worried about my dad.”

“He'll be fine.”

Her small nose wrinkled. “Thanks to you,” she said as she rose to her feet and walked around the countertop. “You might want to consider switching careers.”

His gut sank. “What?”

“You'd make a good paramedic,” she said, and grabbed a banister brush from the cupboard beneath the sink. “You clearly have a knack for it. You know, I have a friend who's an admin in emergency services. I could probably arrange for you to—”

“No...but thank you,” he said, cutting her off before she said too much about it. “Need some help with this?”

She held his gaze for a moment, and then passed him the broom. “Sure. I'll get the mop and bucket.” She propped her hands on her hips and looked at his blood-stained shirt. “I'll find you something to wear and you can pop that shirt in the machine before it permanently stains. I think Cameron has some clothes in one of the guest rooms. I'll go and check.”

She disappeared, and Gabe stared after her. Guilt pressed down on his shoulders. He wanted to tell her the truth about himself. But one would lead to another and then another. And what was the point? There were already too many questions in her lovely brown eyes.

When she returned with the mop and bucket, she placed a piece of clothing on the table. “I'll finish up here. You can go and change.”

He met her gaze. “Okay.”

Gabe left the room and headed for the laundry. Once there, he stripped off his soiled shirt and dumped it in the washing machine. He added liquid, cranked on the start switch and rested his behind on the edge of the sink. Then he expelled a long breath.

Damn.

He wanted to kiss her so much. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel her against him and stroke her soft skin. He wanted to forget every promise he'd made to himself about waiting to see if his illness returned before he'd consider being in a relationship. But it wouldn't be fair to any woman. More than that, it wouldn't be fair to Lauren. He couldn't ask her to risk herself. He
wouldn't.
He'd seen firsthand what it had done to his mom when his father had battled cancer for three years. He'd watched his mom lose the light in her eyes and the spirit in her heart. He'd watched her grieve and cry and bury the man she'd loved.

And Lauren had been there, too. He'd heard the pain in her voice when she'd spoken of her lost love. It should have been enough to send him running.

She thought he'd make a good paramedic? The irony wasn't hard to miss. There were questions in her eyes, and they were questions he didn't want to answer. But if he kept doing this, if he kept being close to her, he would be forced to tell her everything.

And admitting how he'd bailed on his life and career wasn't an option.

Pull yourself together and forget her.

He needed to leave. And he would have if Lauren hadn't chosen that moment to walk into the laundry room.

* * *

When Lauren crossed the threshold, she stopped dead in her tracks. Gabe stood by the sink in the small room with the fresh shirt in his hands. And naked from the waist up. He turned to face her.

It had been so long since she'd been this close to a man's bare skin. And because it was Gabe, he was thoroughly mesmerizing, as she'd known he would be. She'd known his skin would look like satin stretched over steel and that his broad shoulders and arms would be well defined and muscular. The smattering of dark hair on his chest tapered down in a line and disappeared into the low waistband of his jeans, and Lauren's breath caught in her throat.

His gaze instantly met hers, and she didn't miss the darkening blue eyes and faint pulse beating in his cheek. Somehow, she moved closer, and when Lauren finally found her voice, they were barely feet apart.

She dropped the bucket and mop. “I...I'm sorry...I didn't realize you were still in here.”

Heat swirled between them, coiling around the small room, and she couldn't have moved even if she wanted to. She tried to avert her gaze. Tried and failed. He had such smooth skin, and her fingers itched with the sudden longing to reach out and touch him.

“You...” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed. “You were right with what you said before. We'd be...crazy...to start something...to start imagining we could...”

Her words trailed off, and still he stared at her, holding her gaze with a hypnotic power she'd never experienced before. Color spotted her cheeks, and she quickly turned and made for the doorway. Only she couldn't step forward because Gabe's hands came out and gently grasped her shoulders. She swallowed hard as he moved in close behind her and said her name in that soft, sexy way she was becoming so used to. The heat from his body seared through her thin shirt, and Lauren's temperature quickly spiked. His hands moved down her arms and linked with hers. She felt his soft breath near her nape, and his chest pressed intimately against her shoulders.

His arms came around her and Lauren pushed back. One hand rested on her hip, the other he placed on her rib cage. The heat between them ramped up and created a swirling energy in the small room. Her head dropped back, and she let out a heavy sigh as his fingertips trailed patterns across the shirt. It was an intensely erotic moment, and she wanted to turn in his arms and push against him. She wanted his kiss, his touch, his heat and everything else. She wanted him to plunder her mouth over and over and then more. Flesh against flesh, sweat against sweat. She wanted his body over her, around her, inside her. She wanted
him...
and not only his body. Lauren tilted her head, inviting him to touch the delicate skin at the base of her neck with his mouth. But he didn't. Instead, Gabe continued to touch her rib cage with skillful, seductive fingers, never going too high and barely teasing the underside of her breasts.

She could feel him hard against her. He was aroused and not hiding the fact. Lauren moved her arms back and planted her hands on his thighs. She dug her nails against the denim and urged him closer. His touch was so incredibly erotic, and she groaned low in her throat. Finally, he kissed her nape, softly, gently, and electricity shimmered across her skin.

“Lauren,” he whispered against her ear as his mouth trailed upward. “I'm aching to make love to you.”

Lauren managed a vague nod and was about to turn in his arms and beg him to kiss her and make love to her when she heard a door slam. The front door. Seconds later, she heard her brother's familiar voice calling out a greeting.

Gabe released her gently and she stepped forward, dragging air through her lungs. “I should go.”

“Good idea,” he said softly as he grabbed the shirt and pulled it quickly over his head. “I should probably stay here for a minute.”

She nodded and willed some serious movement into her legs and was back in the main hallway seconds later. Cameron, dressed in his regulation police-officer uniform, greeted her with a brief hug and ruffled her hair.

“Hey, kid...what's happening?” he asked once they were in the kitchen and saw the pan of broken glass on the countertop.

She quickly filled him in about their father's mishap, and once she was done, he immediately called Grace. Her brother was still on the phone when Gabe walked into the room. Her body still hummed with memories of his touch, and their gaze connected instantly. If Cameron hadn't turned up, she was sure they'd be making love that very minute. And it would have been a big mistake. When the moment was over, there would be regret and recrimination, and she'd hate herself for being so weak.

When her brother ended his call, he explained that their father was being triaged, and that they'd be home as soon as he was released. In fact, they returned close to an hour and a half later. By then, Lauren had shuffled the men out of the kitchen and finished preparing dinner.

It turned out that Gabe was right. Her father had needed stitches for his hand, and his foot was only sprained. By the time they settled her dad at the head of the table, crutches to one side, it was nearly nine o'clock. Lauren was seated next to Gabe and felt his closeness as if it was a cloak draped across her shoulders.

Once dinner was over, she headed back to the kitchen with Grace and began cleaning up. Gabe and her brother joined them soon after, and Grace tossed a tea towel to each of them.

“Idle hands,” her sister-in-law said, and grinned when Cameron complained. “Get to work.”

Lauren laughed and dunked her hands into a sink full of soapy water. Like with everything he did, Gabe ignored Cameron's whining and attended the task with an effortless charm that had both Lauren and Grace smiling. It would, she decided, be much better if he had the charisma of a rock. But no such luck. Aside from the insane chemistry that throbbed between them, Lauren liked him so much it was becoming impossible to imagine she could simply dismiss her growing feelings. Sexual attraction was one thing, emotional attraction another thing altogether. It was also hard to dismiss how her mother, Grace and even her brother watched their interaction with subtle, yet keen interest.

By the time they left, it was past eleven o'clock, and then a quarter past the hour when Gabe pulled his truck into his driveway. She got out, and he quickly came around the side of the vehicle.

“Well, thanks for the lift,” she said, and tucked her tote under her arm.

He touched her elbow. “I'll see you to your door.”

“There's no need,” she said quickly.

“Come on,” he said, and began walking down the driveway, ignoring her protest.

Lauren followed and stepped in beside him as they rounded the hedge that separated their front lawns. He opened the gate and stood aside to let her pass. By the time she'd walked up the path and onto the small porch, she was so acutely aware of him she could barely hold her keys steady.

Open the door. Say good-night. Get inside. Easy.

Lauren slid the key in the screen door and propped it open with her elbow while she unlocked the front door. “Um...thanks again,” she said, and turned on her heels. “And thanks for what you did for my dad. I'm glad you were there to—”

“Lauren?”

She stilled, clutching her tote, hoping he wouldn't come closer. Praying he wouldn't kiss her. “We...we need to forget what happened tonight,” she said in a voice that rattled in her throat. “We agreed it would be crazy to—”

“Nothing really happened,” he said, cutting her off. “Did it?”

Lauren took a breath. “Well, what
almost
happened. I've made a vow, a promise to myself...and it's a promise I intend to keep. And I'm never going to find what I want if I get drawn deeper into this...this attraction I have for you. We both know it won't go anywhere other than your bed, and I'm not prepared to settle for just sex. Not again.”