See Jane Love (20 page)

“If you need some extra cash, I can always use some help at my electronics firm,” Alex said.

“Alex, Gabe and I don’t need any hand-outs,” Janie said, thrusting her chin out. “We’re doing just fine.”

“It’s not a hand-out. I know driving a cab has kept a roof over your head while you were single, little brother, but you’re married now. And once the baby comes--”

“Alex,” Janie said again, “we’re fine.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I probably shouldn’t say anything, but I’m sure Gabe was going to tell you anyway . . .”

Gabe gave her a ‘Don’t do this, Janie’, look, but she ignored him.

“Gabe doesn’t drive a cab anymore. He’s been writing the last several years.”

Everyone stared at him, including Travis and Livvy. “You’re a writer? Like Aunt Janie?” Travis asked around a mouthful of food.

Swallowing, Gabe simply nodded and said, “Yes. Just like Aunt Janie.”

“That’s just one of the things we have in common,” Janie said, smiling as if she meant it.

“We have nothing in common,”
Janie had said a week ago when he’d asked for her reasons for not wanting to marry him.

“We’re both writers,” he’d said. “Your sister is married to my brother. You’re going to have my child. We’re dynamite in bed together. And don’t you dare try to deny it.”

“ . . . takes a lot of hard work and patience,” Alex was saying. “Being a writer is not as easy as it looks. Just ask Janie.”

Slamming her hands on the table, Janie got to her feet. “Why are you doing this?”

“Janie,” Gabe said, touching her arm. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. They’re all treating you like you’re some second-class citizen.” Turning back to face Alex, she said, “Your brother,
my husband
, is a very successful author. Did you ever hear of Garret Meade?”

Alex shrugged. “He’s the guy who wrote the Jed Belmont detective series.
I’ve read all five and can’t wait for the next one.” His brows lifted as he turned his attention to Gabe. “Do you
know
Garret Meade?”

Gabe braced himself as Janie blurted, “He
is
Garret Meade.”

The room got quiet suddenly.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Alex asked finally. Steepling his fingers together, he met Gabe’s gaze. “Why couldn’t you have told me? You let me think you were nothing but a . . .”

“Why should it matter what Gabe does for a living?” Janie asked. “He’s still the same man whether he drives a cab or writes books. And maybe if you had stopped reminding him how he’d screwed up years ago, he might have told you that he’d graduated from NYU and--”

“NYU?”
Alex and Sara said in unison.

“How did you know that?” Gabe asked incredulously.

“I did some snooping, and I found your diploma in the study of your penthouse.”

“Penthouse?”
Sara gasped.

“Yes. Gabe has a gorgeous apartment that overlooks Central Park. And I would have agreed to live there with him, but I wanted to stay in Erie, close to my family.” She shook her head slightly. “But I have to tell you, I’m ashamed of all of you. My husband is a decent man, and he’s going to be a good father to our child. And it’s time you started treating him with a little respect.”

Gabe had never had anyone stand up for him like Janie was doing. Not even his own brother. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, but just as he was about to move, she said, “There’s only one thing wrong with the man I married.”

Frowning, he looked up at her expectantly. A minute ago, she’d made him out to be a hero. So, what could be so wrong with him?

“He’s a complete idiot.”

Gabe raised his brows in shock.
A complete idiot?

“He thinks our marriage is only about sex. And,” she said, tears welling in her eyes, “he doesn’t want to be married to me anymore.”

“Janie,” Gabe said, pushing his chair back.

“Stay away from me,” she told him just as Sara threw her napkin on the table and waddled to her sister’s side.

Gabe watched as Janie threw herself into Sara’s arms and cried, and then the whole family was gathered around her. “Aw, poor baby,” they all cooed, while giving him nasty looks.

Standing, Gabe said, “I’d like a word with my wife alone.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Sara said with determination.

“Janie can speak for herself,” Gabe said, moving around the group of Callahans to see Janie’s face.

It was red, wet and puffy. And he hated himself for upsetting her like that. “Janie?” he said, “Can we talk for a minute?”

She shook her head, sending her auburn curls in motion. “I have nothing to say to you, Montero. So, why don’t you go back to the townhouse and pack your things? I want you out by morning.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, hurrying out of the dining room, Sara at her side.

And suddenly he was angry at her for even suggesting such a thing. Then again, wasn’t that exactly what he’d told her he planned to do? That he needed some time to sort out his feelings? Was he having a change of heart already?

Doug Callahan stepped toward him. “Young man, I think it might be best if you leave.”

Gabe jerked his gaze toward Alex who refused to look back at him, before walking out of the room and out of the house.

* * * * * * * * * *

Janie didn’t return to the townhouse that night. And Gabe went to bed alone, angry and confused. She didn’t want to marry him, at least not until he’d talked her into it. So, why was she so broken up over the fact that he wanted out? She should be happy.

It’s not as if she were in love with him, because she wasn’t. She was in it for the great sex, and that was all. Okay, so maybe she was being sincere when she’d said she thought their child should have both parents around. But that wasn’t a reason to try to hold a marriage together, was it?

Eventually, she’d end up resenting him for forcing the marriage issue. And he’d rather have her hate him now than later.

Hate was such a strong, ugly word.
Did
Janie hate him? If so, she had good reason. He was scum. He’d pushed her into a marriage she didn’t want, and then, after a few days between the sheets, he’d told her he didn’t want her anymore. Well, that wasn’t exactly how he’d said it, but he may as well have.

Of course, she hated him. How could she not?

But thinking back to the way she’d defended him during Thanksgiving dinner, he’d swear she was talking about a man she admired, respected, and even loved. Was it possible Janie loved him? If so, she’d never told him.

Then again, you never told her either, pal.

Gabe sighed loudly and punched a fist into the mattress. He couldn’t sleep without Janie there. Without her soft, seductive body pressed tightly against his.

What the hell had he been thinking? So what if she didn’t love him? And what did it matter if she were only using him?
He
loved
her
. He wanted her. That’s all that mattered. Right now, he just wanted her back. But what if it was too late?

He got out of bed and paraded around the bedroom in the dark, thinking. He twisted his ankle on one of Janie’s discarded shoes and swore. Then stubbing his toe on the chair she’d left in the middle of the room, he swore again.
It’s too dangerous to think here,
he thought, and headed across the hall to the study.

Flicking on the overhead light, he went to sit in the chair behind the desk and stared at the monitor. The screensaver dog paraded back and forth, occasionally looking at him and wagging his tail.

He rattled the mouse so the dog would disappear and he could concentrate on his problems with Janie. But when the dog went away, the monitor displayed a document called ‘Character Sketches’.

The first character listed was a woman by the name of Jasmine Carlisle. Reading with interest, Gabe found Jasmine vaguely familiar. A woman who was willing to risk her reputation in order to experience passion with the man of her dreams. The next character was Gage Montana. Gabe snickered at the name and read on. ‘A bad boy’ was typed directly after the name.

While he stared at the monitor, he grew extremely curious about these two characters, and he searched the computer files to find the book Janie had been working on.
Sex alamode.

What kind of title was that?
he wondered and began to read from the beginning.

It didn’t take him long to figure out why Jasmine and Gage sounded so familiar.

Slowly, she lowered her head and kissed him. Then she

trailed tiny kisses over his chest and abdomen, stopping at his

navel. Gage bit his lip and sucked in a breath. And when she

kissed his--”Oh, God, Jasmine!” he moaned.

She lifted her head. “I’m new at this,” she said, her green

eyes conveying her uncertainty. “Any suggestions?”

Oh, sweet Jesus. “Just one. Be gentle.”

And she was. She left hot, moist kisses in her wake,

driving him absolutely wild with need. And when she took him

into her mouth, he was drawn to a height of passion he’d never

felt before. Hypnotized by her, he felt powerless. He used soft

words of encouragement, letting her know exactly what he wanted.

Then, just when he was coming close to a climax, she tensed,

her body going perfectly still.

“No, sweetheart, don’t stop yet,” he begged.

Jasmine’s head popped up. “I thought I heard something.”

“That was me, moaning.”

“No, I thought--”

“Jasmine?” Suzie’s voice rang out from the other side of the

door.

Before Gage could react, Jasmine scrambled off the bed

just as the door flew open. Suzie, Jasmine’s wicked step-sister,

loved to catch them in the act. And seeing Gage handcuffed to the

bed seemed to delight, rather than shock her.

Gabe read all the way to the end, then started over from the beginning. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it. Janie was writing a book about them. Detail for detail. Naked details. Personal details. Things he thought should be held sacred. And not only that, but she was turning their love life into a joke.

He’d been right. She didn’t love him. He was nothing more than story material. to her. And not only was she getting her jollies from him, but she was planning to share their escapades with the whole damn world.

“Over my dead body, Mrs. Montero!” he grumbled and stalked into the bedroom to dress. No one was going to take advantage of him like that and get away with it. Not even the woman he loved.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Honey, you have to eat
something
.” Sara stood over Janie, playing mother.

Janie lay her head on the kitchen table, ignoring the piece of cold toast beside her. “Go away. Go bother somebody else.”

“If you don’t eat it, I’m going to wake Mom and tell her. Then, you’ll appreciate me.”

It was barely seven o’clock. Normally, Janie would have stayed in bed until nine, but since she hadn’t slept the night before anyway, she figured, why not get up?

Sara had always been an early-bird, so Janie shouldn’t have been surprised to find her in the kitchen whipping up a batch of blueberry muffins and humming.

“Sara.” Alex’s voice was cool and calm. “Leave your sister alone. She’ll eat something later.”

Janie was about to mumble a ‘thank you’ to her brother-in-law when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll see who it is,” Alex said, and walked out of the kitchen.

“Who would be ringing our door at this hour?” Sara asked, clearly annoyed.

Janie shrugged, keeping her head on the table. She didn’t care who was at the door. All she was concerned about right now was Gabe. Had he gone back to New York? Or had he slept in their bed last night, with the intention of driving back this morning? She didn’t have to wonder very long, because her husband’s voice boomed out loud and clear.

“I want to talk to my wife, and I’m not leaving until I do!”

Janie lifted her head from the table, but before she had a chance to react, Gabe was standing in the kitchen doorway, glaring at her.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, slapping a stack of papers onto the kitchen table. Several pages flew in different directions to the floor.

“Gabe, keep your voice down,” Sara warned. “You’re going to wake the kids and Mom and Dad.”

“I don’t care if I wake the whole damn neighborhood! I want an explanation for this from my wife!” He tapped his finger twice on the stack of papers still sitting on the table.

Sara tightened the belt to her robe and peered around Gabe’s shoulder to scan the top page. “Oh . . . my . . . God!” Her hand flew to her mouth as she stared at Janie. “You wrote about handcuffing him to the bed and--” She stopped mid-sentence, looked at the page again, and added another, “Oh, my God!”