Chapter 9: Chapter 9

“You’re reaching for something you know nothin’ about. Go home, teach. Sleep on it. Guarantee you’ll thank your lucky stars come morning that you dodged a bullet.”

Gabby replayed Blake’s words over and over again for a solid week, and she’d come to one conclusion: he was wrong.

She had yet to forget or regret that kiss. In fact, every time she heard his bike roar down the street, she grew flustered.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been late a single day in that span of time, yet she had to admit that she was disappointed. Tardiness had put him on her radar, her annoyance with him nothing more than a convenient excuse to maintain her distance from a man that, in all her experiences, would spell her destruction. Yet she was woman enough to admit that it had the complete opposite effect. Instead of keeping her away, it had drawn her closer. So close, she hadn’t realized she was about to stick her hand into the open flame until it was too late.

With the burn of his kiss still lingering on her lips, Gabby found herself concocting any reason at all to make their paths cross again.

Which was why, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, she put on her nicest floral sundress, curled her hair into soft waves, and gave her reflection in the bathroom mirror a piece of sage advice. “Nothing risked is nothing gained.” Then she fluffed her boobs and said, “Go get ‘im, tiger.”

She was planning a dinner. One of homemade barbeque ribs bought fresh from the meat market with a side order of coleslaw as per her mother’s skilled hands.

One thing Gabby was not blessed with was the ability to cook. Her mother, bless her heart, had tried her best to teach her, but Gabby was a lost cause. She’d proven more than once that it was possible to burn water. So she stayed out of the kitchen, which was just safer for everyone.

Her feet were light on the stairs, excitement and anticipation filling her to the point of bursting. She hadn’t spoken a word to Blake Mahone since the party, just a casual wave in passing as he picked up Ash and went on his way. His last words had been a rejection of sorts, but Gabby was the type of person who needed something solid. Until he told her point blank that he wanted nothing to do with her, then she was inclined to give it one last shot. Persistence was key in life, no matter the goal.

That kiss was worth the possibility of humiliation.

She hadn’t reached the first floor when she heard the chatter of men talking in the living room.

Her father’s voice mixed with a deeper baritone that reverberated in such a way that she couldn’t discern any words, but the fluttering in her stomach told her what her heart already knew.

Blake Mahone had come to her.

Slowing her pace, she quietly stepped down from the last stair and held her breath as she peeked around the corner.

Unfortunately, as with cooking, spying had never been one of her strong suits either.

Unable to get a good look at him, she took another step forward and unwittingly stepped into a pile of discarded shoes.

One of her mother’s pumps flipped over, the sharp heel digging into the tender arch of Gabby’s foot.

She loosed a startled howl, and before she’d even had time to hit the floor, she found herself being scooped into a pair of strong arms.

“What on earth—”

“Did I hear someone shout?”

“Are you okay?”

That last one was spoken by Blake, and in all the commotion as he carried her across the room and set her down on the harvest gold, flower patterned sofa, his was the only voice she heard.

“I stepped on a high heel,” she told him, her voice a pained whisper.

His attention fell to her injured foot, his hands cupping it gently as he assessed the damage.

“Miss Gabby, are you okay?”

She looked up to find Ash’s glistening worried stare on her. Without thinking, she held out her hand, injury forgotten, and he rushed straight into her open arm. Curling him into her chest, she gave him a light squeeze.

“I’m perfectly fine. Just a little clumsy sometimes.”

His red-rimmed eyes broke her heart, and she looked to her mother for support. Picking up her cue, her mother approached and laid a hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Do you like ice cream? Because my daughter bought so many kinds, I don’t know which one to pick.”

“My daddy says I’m a ice cream fanic.”

Gabby laughed at his mispronunciation of fanatic. Ash was something special. She loved having him in her class, and now her home. Which made her wonder. How had Blake known where she lived? And why was he there?

“Would you mind lending me your expertise?”

Gabby watched her mother lead Ash from the room before turning her focus on Blake. Who still held her foot between his large hands.

“I’m going to give you two some privacy,” her father spoke up.

They waited until he was out of sight, and then spoke at once.

“You look nice.”

“How do you know where I live?”

Blake smiled. “You look nice,” he repeated, taking the lead. “Heading out?”

“I was,” Gabby replied tightly. “How do you know where I live?”

“It’s a small town,” he said as explanation. “You said was. Change of plans?”

“Well, there’s no reason to leave anymore. It seems the mountain has come to Mohammad.”

He quirked a brow. “You were coming to see me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snapped when a giant grin began to spread across his face. “It was just a friendly gesture. We’re having dinner, and I thought Ash might like to hang out.”

Wow, way to use the kid, Gabs. But from the look on Blake’s face, he wasn’t buying it anyway.

“Is that right?”

Her jaw clenched. “No, it’s not. I wanted to see you. To talk maybe?” She posed it as a question, hoping it would take some of the sting out of her confession.

It didn’t.

“Good because I wanted to see you too…And talk. Maybe.”

God, when he smiled like that, she was tempted to grab ahold of his leather jacket and smash her mouth to his. His cocky attitude and those damnable good looks were almost too much to handle.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Me? Never.” His thumb traced her instep. “How’s it feel?”

“Better. I don’t think I did any lasting damage.”

Releasing her, Gabby sat back on the sofa. To her shock, Blake followed. “What are you doing?” she asked, her eyes wide on his.

“Getting comfortable. Now, what did you want to talk about?”

“We’re getting into this already?”

“I like to have things out on the table. It makes moving forward a helluva lot easier. So do you want to start, or should I?”

Well, with him looming over her like he was, she was disinclined to say much of anything really. Her stomach was twisting with so many nerves, she was light-headed. The last time anyone had made her feel anything like it, she was in the tenth grade and facing down a yearlong crush.

That was a tickle compared to what Blake made her feel.

Taking her silence as answer, Blake jumped right in. “Okay, my reason for being here then.” He turned to face her, his jacket creaking as he stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. “I did some thinking, and I was wrong. I like having a woman in my bed more than a night. Hell, I like having a woman in my bed, period. And it’s been a while since that happened. Hell, it’s been a while since I wanted that to happen.”

A thrill bubbled in her chest as Gabby took this in. “Are you saying you changed your mind?”

“About you being in my bed? Absolutely.”

“I don’t know what to say. What changed your mind?”

A dark smile played about his lips, and his hand came up to play with her hair. “That kiss. I haven’t gotten a single good night’s sleep since. It’s all I think about.”

“Me too,” she confessed.

“Good, then we’re in agreement?”

“Ah…about what, exactly.”

“About you being in my bed. Not every night of course. And when I say you’re in my bed, I mean my bed, Gabby, no one else’s. I don’t share.”

“Of course not,” she said automatically, then frowned. “I haven’t even agreed to anything yet, and you’re talking like it’s a done deal.”

Moving closer, Blake slipped his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head and demanding her undivided attention. “You’ve been thinking about me. About our kiss.”

Her tongue dragged over her bottom lip in answer, and his gaze latched onto the movement.

“I assume you want more?”

She nodded, her answer coming in the form of a rapidly increasing heart rate and the inability to breathe without opening her mouth. Which only invited his delectable mouth closer.

“Because I want more and, Gabby?”

“Hmmm?”

He leaned in, his mouth hovering over hers. “I get what I want. Always.”

An invitation to his bed and an excuse to touch and be touched by him any time she wanted? Who was she to argue?

***

Blake sat at a glass top patio table with Gabby on one side and Ash on the other. He’d been fielding questions from her parents for the last hour, explaining what he did for a living—lead contractor currently heading up a project for a multimillion dollar waterfront housing development—and what he didn’t do as president of a motorcycle club. No, he didn’t kill people—anymore. No, he didn’t run drugs—anymore. No to prostitution, gambling, and every other kind of illegal activity they could think of. And a big fat no on being an ex-con.

That, thankfully, was one of the few black marks he’d been able to keep off his record. Although he did have a few misdemeanors to his name, but he omitted those.

As it stood now, both parents were smiling and seemed to have taken a liking to both him and Ash. But who could say no to him. The kid was a people magnet.

Meeting the parents hadn’t been on his agenda for the day, though. When he’d rolled out of bed that morning with a plan in mind and Gabby’s address burning a hole in his GPS thanks to Country’s quick work and skill with a computer, he was prepared to fight with her. Bend her willpower. Then, after an impassioned resistance, they’d spend the day hanging out, watching some television, and when nightfall came, maybe work on some more of that kissing.

He could do none of that with Ozzy and Harriet hanging around.

“So, do you live with Gabby, or does she live with you?” he asked. The question had been burning through his mind all afternoon.

“Oh, our Gabs moved back home this spring, but she never really said why.” Her mother turned a quizzical look on her daughter, the hope of an answer clear in her gray-blue eyes.

“Bad breakup. Nothing to write home about,” Gabby explained succinctly with a dismissive wave of her hand.

A breakup that sent her packing? Her gaze darted to his and away again, a faint smile on her lips. Seemed like there was more to the story than she was telling. She reached forward to grab the pitcher of iced tea, but Blake beat her to it.

Slanting him an annoyed look, Gabby allowed him to refill her glass without comment. He smirked as he settled back in his chair.

“So do you three have any plans for the evening?”

Blake glanced up at her father and produced an off-the-cuff offer. “Actually, Ash and I stopped by to ask Gabby out to a movie.”

“Oh that sounds lovely. Which one?”

“Chipmunks!” Ash shouted, bouncing in his seat. Then he launched into a lengthy explanation of who they were and what they were about, complete with voice mimicry that had everyone at the table laughing.

“Why don’t you three head out,” Mrs. Morgan offered as she stood up. “Harold and I will take care of all this.”

“Are you sure?” Blake asked, cutting off Gabby’s feeble protest. “We could stick around and give you a hand.”

“Nonsense,” her mother said with a swat of her hand. “Go, have fun. I have a feeling if you keep this little man waiting much longer, he’s bound to leap right out of his skin.”

The way Ash was fidgeting, Blake didn’t doubt it. “Thank you, Mrs. Morgan.” Holding out his hand to Gabby he said, “Shall we?”

With narrowed eyes, she ignored his offer and stood on her own. “I’ll be home by ten,” she called over her shoulder as she marched through sliding glass doors and into the house.

Turning to make sure Ash was set to go, he caught her mother’s eye as she rounded the table, clearing dishes.

“We won’t wait up,” she stage whispered and patted his arm.

Blake grinned.