Arianne felt her smile stretch from ear to ear. “You did?” Oh, how she would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for
“I did. With the exception of one short-term customer who doesn’t actually live here, I don’t get involved with the women who hire me. I learned my lesson early.”
“Because of Shay Templeton?” The words tumbled out of their own volition and she held her breath, waiting to see if he lashed out at her for her presumption. Or, worse, ignored the question altogether.
“Because of Shay.” He rolled from his side to his back, putting more space between them.
She didn’t chase after him but waited patiently to see if he would confide in her.
“I was sixteen. She was my first lover. She’d told me for weeks how cold her husband was, how he made her feel unwanted, unloved.”
In addition to being a teenage boy brimming with hormones, Gabe had also been someone who could relate to being trapped in a home lacking in affection. Shay had played him well. It was likely she’d also been legitimately attracted to him, but that in no way excused an adult-a
“I told her afterward that I loved her.” His brittle chuckle dripped self-loathing. “Can you imagine anyone that naive? A single afternoon in her bed and I was vowing to take her away from Mistletoe. She laughed, told me I was a sweet kid, not bad for a virgin, but that she had no intention of giving up her house and husband. She was still trying to kick me out when he came home.”
Arianne squirmed inwardly, wishing she hadn’t opened this particular can of worms. It was hard to hear him reliving the raw pain inflicted by the lover who’d calculated a premeditated seduction, then callously dismissed him.
“I shouldn’t have left,” he said hoarsely. “I saw how furious Templeton was, I should have stayed to protect her. But she wanted me to go, and I…”
He’d been hurt and confused and humiliated. Arianne was sorry for the senseless deaths, but she was angry with the long-dead Shay Templeton, not only for creating the tragedy but for embroiling a sixteen-year-old kid in the middle of it and permanently robbing him of his innocence.
“Thank you for telling me this,” she whispered. “The fact that you can even discuss it is a good sign. It means-”
“All it means is that I don’t want you to have any illusions about me,” he snapped. “I slept with another man’s wife and slunk off like a coward when their fight turned volatile. That’s who I am. Maybe you were right when you accused me of ‘giving up.’ It certainly wouldn’t be the first time I did that, but make no mistake, I’m leaving Mistletoe.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting her natural inclination to argue, to tell him that she didn’t have illusions, that she saw him more clearly than he saw himself. She saw the past hurts and the honorable man he’d grown into despite them. She saw someone who had retreated into solitude, working alone, living alone, playing video games alone.
Hadn’t she been thinking only earlier tonight that the potential rewards of love were worth the struggle and effort? Rather than simply labeling him the wrong man, couldn’t she instead help him become the right one?
WHEN ARIANNE WOKE on Sunday morning, she was alone in the bed. A note on the nightstand said that Gabe would be back in a few minutes. After a moment’s deliberation over whether it was an invasion of personal space, she decided to pillage his closet for a shirt to wear. Hers was beyond grungy after twenty-four hours. She thumbed through a few hangers and laughed when she found a red T-shirt, faded and soft from many washings, that said Waide Supply above the pocket. Her dad had given them out as promotional items one year to every customer who spent more than sixty dollars in a visit. She had one in blue, but it didn’t hang nearly to her knees the way Gabe’s did.
Once she’d changed, she got a piece of sugar-free gum out of her purse in lieu of a toothbrush. She was securing her hair in a ponytail when she heard the front door close.
“Arianne?”
Just the sound of his voice thrilled her, but she tried not to sound like a squealing girl with a crush. “Back here.”
He appeared in the bedroom doorway holding a white sack with the Dixieland Diner logo on it. “Mornin’. I thought you might like something besides ice cream for breakfast.”
“That was thoughtful.” Her stomach rumbled at the smell of sausages and…was that syrup she detected? “Did you get us pancakes?”
At his nod, she thought,
Today, they decided in unspoken agreement to eat at the breakfast bar. The breakfast dishes were not going to balance in her lap as easily as the ice-cream bowl. She sat on one of the stools while he got silverware out of a drawer.
Tossing his cell phone on the counter, Gabe said offhandedly, “Oh, I called Lilah on my way back from the diner to let her know you’d be ready to go soon. She should be here in about twenty minutes. I figured you’d be in a hurry for a fresh change of clothes.” His mouth quirked in a half grin, exposing his left dimple, as he took in the too-big shirt.
She smiled back as it was impossible to be annoyed with a man who bought you buttermilk pancakes with turkey sausage and fresh fruit. But she would have called Lilah herself. Was he trying to get rid of her?
He sat next to her and they ate in silence. Arianne racked her brain for the best way to handle the situation. She’d had a few lovers in her life, but they’d been steady boyfriends, guys she’d known well and had been in relationships with long before they found their way to her bed. Did Gabe consider last night a onetime event? The thought was bleak. But since she’d assured him she knew all she needed to take the leap, she could hardly press him now for answers and commitments.
As far as Arianne was concerned, they had a future of some sort. One of them just didn’t know it yet. Rather than informing him of her own feelings and encouraging him to consider his, she decided to exercise rarely used tact. They would talk later. For now, he was still finishing his breakfast and Lilah’s car was coming up the long driveway.
Arianne glanced out the window. “That’s my ride.”
Gabe opened the door and Lilah walked inside looking like an old-fashioned suitor come a-courtin’. She held a bouquet, a picture of some sort and a shoe box with a bow on it.
“What’s all this?” Gabe asked, staring at the roses as if they were live grenades on stems.
“These-” Lilah handed over the flowers “-are from Fawne as a thank-you. There’s a note. This is something Ben drew for you. And Quinn got you this very manly first-aid kit as her way of saying she hopes you feel better soon.”
He set the box on the bar to open it, and Arianne laughed at the sight of a green-and-brown camouflage-print ice pack and a box of adhesive bandages printed with monster trucks. He barely looked at her, instead staring at the odd assortment of gifts in disbelief.
“Seems like an awful lot of fuss,” he said.
Lilah raised an eyebrow. “Well, Ben’s awful important to his friends and family. We hate to think what would have happened to him if you hadn’t been there. By the way, Jack Allen has apologized a dozen times for just leaving that ladder propped like that and not giving anyone a heads-up that it was there. He loaded it onto Nick Zeth’s truck, along with the bouncy balls. They’re planning to bring it by today and help with the pirate ship construction if you need it.”
Even though Gabe shifted uncomfortably at this announcement, Arianne couldn’t be more delighted by the news.
Lilah fished her keys out of her pocket. “You about ready, Ari?”
Translation, was Arianne prepared for the interrogation that was going to take place the second the two women were alone in the car? She decided that she wasn’t going to confide in Lilah, not yet. Gabe was such a