* * *
Gabi looked around in surprise when Wade pulled up to a garage beside a beautiful little cottage that had obviously been restored with a lot of loving attention to detail. Emily, the master interior designer, would have had a hundred questions about the work Wade had done. Gabi was merely charmed.
“Your house, I assume?”
“And my office,” he said, gesturing toward the garage.
“I didn’t know carpenters needed offices.”
“That’s because you’ve never seen my real work.”
“I saw what you did at Castle’s,” she contradicted. “The cabinetry you built for Grandmother was lovely. Boone says you’re the best in the region at that kind of custom work.”
“It pays the bills,” he said with a careless shrug.
Her gaze narrowed. “But it’s not your passion?”
“It’s definitely not my passion.” He opened the garage door then.
Gabi halted beside him, her mouth agape. There were wood carvings everywhere, seabirds so exquisitely detailed they looked as if they might fly away. Decoys that had been hand-rubbed to a soft sheen, probably not intended to be put into the water, but displayed on mantels or in galleries.
The scent of wood shavings filled the air, a clean and earthy mix of cedar, pine and others she couldn’t identify by their aroma.
“Wade, these are amazing,” she said softly as she went from table to table, unable to resist running her fingers over the wood, certain at times she could feel each individual feather beneath her touch, the fluttery beat of a tiny heart.
“You’re an incredible artist,” she said, glancing away from the carving she was holding and into his eyes. “Why are you wasting your time doing cabinetry?”
He shrugged. “Like I said, it pays the bills, and I enjoy working with wood, no matter the form it takes. There’s satisfaction in creating something beautiful.”
She turned and looked at him. “Why did you bring me here? It’s not just because you wanted to show off these beautiful things, is it?”
“Why do you say that? Maybe I wanted you to see another side of me or perhaps I felt in need of having my ego stroked this morning.”
She frowned at the comment. “You’re the least egotistical man I know. You’re also sneaky. Given the context of our recent conversations, I know there’s a message here for me.”
“What do you think it is?” he countered, looking vaguely amused.
Gabi struggled to figure it out. She was sure it was staring her right in the face.
“That there’s more than one way to find satisfaction in life,” she said eventually, studying his face for some hint of approval. She felt ridiculously like a kid hoping the teacher would praise her for grasping an elusive concept.
“Very good,” he said, his grin spreading. “And how does that apply to you?”
“I’m not sure. I already know there are other PR jobs out there and eventually I’ll find one.”
He looked oddly disappointed by her response. “If that’s what will bring you satisfaction and fulfillment, I’m sure you will,” he said.
Gabi frowned at his tone. “You’ve been talking to Cora Jane or Samantha, haven’t you? They’ve been telling you that I was only doing this ridiculously demanding job because I wanted my father’s approval, that my heart really isn’t in it.”
“They might have mentioned something like that,” he admitted. “Are they right?”
“I’m very good at what I do.”
“But that’s not the same thing, is it? I’m very good at cabinetry. I have more work lined up than I can handle. I can take pride in that on a lot of levels.”
Gabi glanced around the workshop again. “But this is what really makes you happy.”
“Yes.”
“Then do it. Commit to it.”
“It’s hard to walk away from a sure thing,” he said, then looked her in the eye. “Isn’t it?”
Gabi understood what he was doing. All this pushing and prodding to reevaluate her choices had probably been Grandmother’s idea. Or maybe Samantha’s. They’d known she wouldn’t take the advice if it came from them, so they’d enlisted Wade. Unfortunately for her peace of mind, he’d made a very credible argument.
“I’ll think about what you’re saying,” she said eventually. “You can report back that the mission was accomplished.”
He chuckled. “Not the entire mission,” he said, his gaze capturing hers. “I have one of my own. It’s entirely separate from theirs.”
Her heart stuttered at the look in his eyes. The conversation was suddenly taking a turn into uncharted territory. She could feel it.
“Oh?” she asked, unhappy because her voice shook.
He took a step closer, then another, then bent down. He waited, his lips so close she could feel the soft sigh of his breath against her skin. With one hand cupping her cheek, he closed the distance between them.
The tender kiss was the most sensual, erotic one she’d ever experienced. In its sweetness there was caring and carefully controlled passion, a combination with which she had no experience at all. The gentle demand of his mouth on hers stirred longings she’d never expected. Of all the bloody times for that to happen, she thought as she pulled away with regret.
“We can’t,” she whispered.
He smiled. “We just did.”
“I mean again. We can’t do that again.”
Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Is there some law I don’t know about?”
She frowned at the ridiculous question. “Of course not.”
“That man, the father of your baby, is he not as far out of your life as you’ve told me?”
“Oh, he’s gone,” she said without hesitation. That was one of the few real certainties in her life.
“Then I don’t see the problem.”
She took his hand, pressed it against her belly just as the baby gave a kick. “That’s the reason,” she said.
He smiled. “You think that kick means the baby doesn’t like me?” he asked.
“No, I think the baby is a
