April's Promise (Forever Love Series) (15 page)

BOOK: April's Promise (Forever Love Series)
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Maybe
not.

Before
he could even process the idea of Vanessa buying men's jewelry for someone
other than him, April came up the stairs.  He quickly changed thought channels. 
He purposely set the receipts back in the box on top of another stack of
e-mails.

At a
glance, April saw Vanessa's name on the box, as well as the papers he'd been
sorting through.  "What are you doing?"

"I
thought it was time I emptied this last box.  This is everything that had been
in her desk at work and from her desk here.  None of it seemed important after
she died so I just stuffed it all up here."

"Is
it important now?" April asked.

Was the
fact that his wife had bought jewelry for other men important?  He wasn't sure
yet.  Maybe he'd have to dig to the bottom of the box to find out.  But he'd
had enough for one night.

He
didn't answer April's question, but rather asked, "So how did it go
tonight?"  Standing, he moved closer to her.

She glanced
down at the papers again and then back at him.  "Mother saw a condo she
likes.  She wouldn't have to worry about a yard or maintenance.  She could call
someone if she had a leaky faucet.  There's a reasonable monthly fee for all
that.  It seemed to be ideal."

"Seemed
to be?"

"She
still likes the idea of a small house of her own, so she's going to think about
it."

"So
she's serious about moving back here."

"I
think so, though I don't know how that will affect her new dating relationship. 
Or if she cares if it does.  I'm not sure she wants to
be
with
anyone."

Gabe
motioned to the stairs.  "Let's go down."

"You
don't want to put that back in the box?" she motioned to the papers.

"No. 
I'll come back up tomorrow night and finish.  I've been putting it off for too
long."

After they
returned to the second floor, April asked, "So how was Stephie?"

"An
armful.  But she did fall asleep easily.  It's possible she was just
overtired."

"I
suppose," April said.

"Did
you eat?" he asked.

"We
stopped at a family diner.  I had a sandwich and mother had a cup of
coffee."

Of one
mind, they walked down the hall to Stephie's room.  The door was ajar and they
both peeked inside.  She was sleeping peacefully on her side and looked like a
little angel.

"To
be able to sleep like that," April murmured.

Gabe
nudged her around to face him.  "You're not sleeping well?"

"I
have a lot on my mind."

"Like?"
he prompted.

She
only hesitated a second.  "Like...us."

She
looked so vulnerable at that moment, as if the past two nights had been
particularly special to her.  He slid his hand under her hair, bent his head,
brought her close, and claimed her lips.  Her response was exactly what he'd
hoped it would be—excited, passionate, and reciprocating.

He
didn't hold back but pressed her against the wall.  Their bodies fit together
so well.  Her hands had gone around his neck and now he took them from there
and held one on either side of her head.  She rubbed her breasts against his
chest, teasing them both, and he muffled a groan.

"Do
you know what you're doing?" he whispered.

"The
same thing
you're
doing," was her flip reply.

He
pressed another kiss to her lips while he matched their bodies and rocked his
hips against hers.

When he
broke away, she murmured, "Gabe, I'm going to melt at your feet."

Is that
what he wanted?  April melting at his feet?  What he wanted, was to make love
to a woman knowing she was as enthralled with sex as he was, knowing giving and
receiving pleasure was on both their minds, understanding that joining their
bodies was more than physical.  He'd tasted that exquisite pleasure with April
and was hungry for it all over again.

He
kissed April's eyelids, the curve of her cheek, the line of her neck.  "My
bedroom or yours?" he asked in a raspy tone.

"Gabe,
maybe we should talk first.  I have something I want to—"

"Talking
is overrated," he decided, kissing her again.  He wanted to make her breathless
with need.  He wanted their desire to unravel her and make her come apart in
his arms.

Scooping
her up, he carried her to his bedroom.  Once there, he shut the door.  By his
bed, he laid April on it and looked down at her.  He had to be sure about where
they were headed.  He had to be sure their desires matched.  "Is this
where you want to be?" he asked huskily.

She
glanced at the bed and then up at him.  "I want to be with you."

That's
all he needed to hear.  "Undress," he said."

"You
don't want to do it?" she asked playfully.

But he
wasn't in the mood to be playful.  "If I do it, I'll rip something."

Her
eyes widened a bit, but she looked as if the idea pleased her.

He
started unbuttoning his shirt.  It was as if they were in a race to see who
could undress first.  Soon their clothes littered the bed and the floor, and
then he was beside her, taking her into his arms, kissing her as if it were the
last kiss they'd ever share.

April
raked her nails down his back and he liked the idea of her scratches on him. 
If this was going to be a mating ritual, he wanted them both to be branded with
it, to never forget it, to be able to relive it in their minds and go there
because thinking about it was exciting.  The desire he felt tonight didn't want
to be confined or restrained, and he let it free because he wanted April to
match it.

She
didn't disappoint him.  She seemed as greedy to give him pleasure as he was to
give her pleasure.  He kissed her neck.  In turn, she nipped his chest.  She
reached for him, taking him in her hands.  Desire between them that had seemed
to build up for years erupted.  Although yesterday she'd said her leg was fine,
when he ran his hands over her body, he was mindful of it and her fall.  Desire
could stamp out pain.  The need for climax could send magical feelings through
the rest of the body.  That's what had happened the last two nights.  But now she
moved as if she'd never fallen.  She bent her legs and cradled him between her
thighs.  He thrust into her, meaning to forget everything in the attic,
everything in the past, everything that meant nothing in this moment.

Their
passion went wild.  Their bodies reached the melting point together.  When
April cried her release, Gabe was right with her, experiencing ecstasy of his
own.

Afterward,
he collapsed beside her and held her tightly.

But he
came back to earth with a jolt when April murmured, "We didn't use
protection."

No,
they hadn't.  Neither of them had been thinking clearly enough to be smart.

The way
April's body was tucked into his, seemingly relaxed, he suspected little sleep the
past two nights had caught up with her.

He
brushed her hair over her shoulder and whispered next to her ear, "We'll
talk about it in the morning."

She
must have agreed with him because she snuggled deeper into him, nodded, and
sighed.

Although
tonight April had fallen asleep almost as easily as Stephie, Gabe couldn't find
slumber.  What if April
did
get pregnant?  What if she didn't want to
join their lives?  What if she ran off as she had five years ago?  Had she left
because of her career?  Or had she left because a relationship had scared her? 
Was he ready to jump back in to something serious?  A commitment with promises
as he'd made once before?

Those
receipts in the attic gnawed at him.  The open box seemed to beckon to him.

He
extricated himself from April, lifted his jeans from the edge of the bed, and
put them on.  He took a last look at her before he left the room.  On her side,
her hair splayed across one of his pillows, he liked the picture of her there.

His
feet and chest bare, he went up to the attic, intent on finishing what he'd
started.  He was still hot from what he and April had done, so the cooler
temperature felt good on his skin.  Crossing to the box, he sat on the floor
once more.  He lifted the receipts he'd examined before and nothing had
changed.  He'd never noticed expenses like this.  He'd never monitored Vanessa's
check writing or how much she spent.  She contributed to some of their house expenses
but for the most part, her salary was hers.

He
found a brochure from one of the accounts she worked with.  He even found a
candy wrapper.  She'd had a penchant for peanuts and caramel, and he'd often
teased her about it.  At the beginning anyway.

He
lifted out about ten sheets of paper that were folded together.  A green
plastic clip made sure they didn't separate.  Now he slipped off the clip and
unfolded the papers.  They were e-mails.  E-mails from Larry Powell.

 

****

 

Chapter
Nine

 

Gabe
shifted through the e-mails, one by one.  Unable to comprehend what he was
seeing, what struck him most vividly at first was the time span.  They
stretched over a three-year period, from almost a year before Stephie was born
until the night of Vanessa's accident.  Vanessa and Larry Powell's accident.

Gabe
didn't know how he'd been so blind, how he'd had such tunnel vision, how he
hadn't noticed his wife was having an affair under his nose.  He felt like a
complete fool.  He'd thought promises the day they'd wed meant something.  He'd
expected fidelity to be a value they both embraced.  He believed their marriage
had been important to them both.  How could Vanessa have hidden so much so
well?

The
e-mails began with a flirty tone.  They must have sent them back and forth at
work. 
Meet me for a drink after work?
Larry Powell asked. 
I can
make you happier than any Cosmopolitan for Happy Hour. 
Larry's next e-mail
had Vanessa's reply, a one-liner that read,
That sounds exciting.

She'd
wanted excitement.

Gabe
had wanted a family.

Larry's
follow-up e-mail had been a one-liner. 
Excitement is my middle name.  Meet
me at Rafferty's.

Gabe
knew the pub was located not far from where Vanessa had worked.

Why had
she kept these?  For the same reason any woman kept love letters?

But
these e-mails weren't about love.  Gabe didn't want to read them, he really
didn't.  Yet he was fascinated by them in a horrified way.  Besides logistics,
meeting places, and dates, and times there were sexual references and playful
banter about what they wanted to do to each other when they were alone.

However,
after that, came the more serious e-mails.  Vanessa had written—
I'm
pregnant.  What are we going to do? 
She'd known who Stephie belonged to
right from the start.  And then...  Larry's reply was succinct. 
Have sex
with your husband so he believes the baby's his.  Have lots of it.

Gabe
remembered that time.  He remembered when Vanessa had been amorous, and he'd
felt that somehow they'd renewed their commitment to each other.  How
stupid
he'd been.  She'd just been laying the groundwork.  Stephie hadn't been three
weeks premature.  At seven pounds, she'd been her perfect weight and right on
time.

What
kind of woman had Vanessa been?

What
kind of man had Larry Powell been?

But
that answer was soon evident enough in one of the last e-mails.  Vanessa had
written—
I can't live a lie.  I have to tell Gabe. 
But Larry had written
back—
Don't be foolish.  I'm not daddy material.  I don't want the
responsibility of a kid and you know it.  We're fun and games, Vanessa, not
picket fences and castles in the air.

Had
Vanessa and Larry argued the night of the accident?  Had an argument caused the
accident?

One
thought played in Gabe's head above all the rest. 
Stephie's not my daughter
.

Yet as
soon as he had the thought, memories contradicted it.  He'd fed her as a
newborn.  He'd changed diapers in the middle of the night.  He'd witnessed her
first smile and her first step.  He'd rocked her when she'd had bad dreams. 
He'd given her unconditional love that he hadn't even known existed before she
was born.  She was
his
daughter, no matter what any scientific test
said.

He sat
there for a long while, examining his marriage to Vanessa with a fine-tooth
comb.  Apparently there were more flaws than he'd ever imagined.  What had she
told him the night of the accident?  "I can't get out of this meeting.  I
have a complicated problem to deal with.  I might be late getting home."

Had her
eyes looked a little haunted that night?  Why?  Because she was going to try to
convince Larry Powell they should be together?  When she knew deep down in her
heart that wasn't what he wanted?  Or because she knew in the long run, she was
going to have to hurt Gabe irrevocably?

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