drive a stick shift and occasionally cuss like a sailor, but lifting you is beyond even my capabilities.”
Though he groused incoherently the entire time, he managed to slide out of the truck. She put her arm around his waist and looped his arm around her neck. Was she a terrible person for noticing the sculpted definition of his muscles at a time like this?
She found the house key on the ring in her hand and unlocked the door. There weren’t an abundance of windows, and she reached automatically for a light switch, but Gabe emitted a low whimpering sound that made her rethink that. Was there enough illumination that she could help him down the hall to his room without walking into a wall or tripping over something?
“Can you make it to the bed?” she asked.
He glanced at her and, despite the pain etched around his eyes, smiled. “Dare you to ask me that another time.”
Desire pierced her. He’d sustained a concussion saving a little boy and
She stiffened at the thought. Even though it had been partially flippant, there was a kernel of actual risk there. Every man she’d ever dated had been from Mistletoe and she couldn’t imagine getting swept away with any of them the way she had with Gabe on that bench.
Either because he was feeling better now that he was in dimmer surroundings or because sheer masculine pride forbade him from continuing to lean on her, Gabe led the way to his room. Her passing impression was that the former barn was sectioned into thirds, with a high-ceilinged living room in the middle and a kitchen and bedroom on the ends.
She found his bed in the same state as hers-sloppily made. It made Arianne feel like too much of a slob to leave her sheets and blankets twisted any which way when she left home for the day, but she didn’t bother with a lot of tucking and creasing or pillow arranging. She sidestepped him and pulled down the corner of a forest-green comforter. There was a large picture window in here, but the shade was drawn behind tan-and-green curtains.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes at half-mast.
Arianne knew that if she offered her help, he’d turn it down, so instead of asking, she simply knelt and pulled off the hiking boots he wore. “You lie down,” she instructed in her best no-nonsense tone. “Is there anything I can get you?” It was too soon for any more medicine. She tried to think what would possibly make her feel better if she’d had a seventy-pound kid fall into her, followed by a ladder hurtling down on her head.
She shook her head, trying to dislodge the morbid what-ifs. “You really were quite the hero today.” Ben could easily have ended his day with broken bones, or worse if he’d fallen at the wrong angle. Then there was the possibility that he could have been injured in a fall and again when the ladder crashed atop him.
Gabe closed his eyes, his voice a tired slur. “Had to. Can’t take a fourth death on my head.”
Fourth? Arianne recoiled in surprise. Who, besides the Templetons, did he obviously blame himself for? Now didn’t seem like an appropriate time to ask.
“Arianne? Could you bring an ice pack?”
“Of course.” Arianne was a doer by nature. She was relieved to have a specific and helpful task.
In the kitchen, she flipped on the light and saw a suite of silver appliances, including a flat-range stove and a trash compactor. Crossing to the three-door refrigerator, she decided that the freezer compartment was probably the one with the ice dispenser. She opened the door and stared.
“Good Lord, it looks like he robbed the Breckfield Creamery.”
She’d never seen so much ice cream in one person’s kitchen. Individual servings and pints of exotic flavors inside the door, half gallons of country-style vanilla and mint-chocolate chip sharing a shelf, and boxes of individually wrapped ice-cream sandwiches. He must exert a
Realizing that she was taking her time snooping while the hero of the day was still lying in agony, she jerked her attention away from all the frozen dairy goodness and found a blue gel pack. The sudden ring of a phone splintering the silence nearly made her jump. After only two rings-Arianne had programmed hers to five in case she had trouble finding the cordless-Gabe’s voice rumbled from the answering machine on the tiled kitchen counter.
“You’ve reached Sloan Carpentry and Odd Jobs. Leave a message at the beep or, in case of emergency, page my cell.”
Right after he gave the number for that, a woman spoke. “It’s Nicole. I may have an idea for a job possibility if you’re willing to move to Kennesaw. Give me a call if you want more details-it was great to hear from you the other day.”
Nicole? Against her will, Arianne recalled what Shane had told her.
Even if Shane was right, what business was it of Arianne’s? Every adult had a romantic past. No, the pang she suffered probably wasn’t jealousy over a woman with whom Gabe may have once been involved, a woman who no longer even lived in Mistletoe. Instead, Arianne suspected that the reason it temporarily hurt to breathe was because even though Gabe had told her point-blank that he planned to leave, she’d harbored the subconscious hope that he’d change his mind.
She shot the answering machine a malevolent glare. Good thing she wasn’t a selfish, devious person or that message might accidentally get erased before Gabe was fully recovered. Pretending she was too noble to have even had such a thought, she left the kitchen and hurried down the hall.
Gabe wasn’t snoring, but his breathing was audible, deep and even. She crept forward, figuring she could leave the ice pack on the nightstand in case his headache woke him up in the immediate future. Unable to resist the temptation of studying him at her leisure, she sat gently on the edge of the bed. Gabriel. It was a fitting name for him. He was formed beautifully enough to look like an angel, albeit one with the weight of the world on his broad shoulders.
As she gazed down at him-this six-foot loner with surprise dimples and a secret love for ice cream-tenderness swamped her.
She bent to graze his forehead with a featherlight kiss. Unexpectedly, the arm at his side clamped around her, drawing her inexorably to him. He never even opened his eyes.
“Gabe?” she whispered.
Nothing.
She was squashed into his torso and had to wiggle around so she could breathe easier and so that she wasn’t lying in such a way that pulled her long hair. His breathing was still relaxed, but his arm was like an iron band around her. She debated the best way to slip loose without disturbing his well-earned rest.
Deciding to enjoy it while she was here, she tucked her chin against his chest and succumbed to the luxury of being in Gabe’s arms.
Chapter Ten
When Gabe woke in the dark room, his head hurt some but it was a distant pain that paled in comparison to the other physical sensations jolting his body. Arianne was snuggled across him, her warm weight draped over him like the world’s sexiest blanket, her thigh pressing against his erection. Although he wasn’t complaining, he couldn’t remember crawling into bed with her.
He barely recalled finding the grit to make it down the hall on his own two feet. How long had they been here? No light shone around the edges of the window shade, so the sun must have already set. To get a look at the digital clock on his dresser he would have to shift Arianne, and he didn’t want to disturb her.
In fact, part of him wanted nothing more than to sink back into slumber, enjoying her nearness and accepting it as fate’s gift to him, a reward for helping that kid earlier. But Gabe didn’t think he’d be able to sleep that easily. He
