Deliver the Moon (2 page)

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Authors: Rebecca J. Clark

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Deliver the Moon
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Glancing around, Gabe said, “I haven’t seen Frannie yet. I hope she’s doing okay?”

Beverly Rhodes said, “My mother was worn out after the ceremony so we had our driver take her home, not that it’s any of your concern.”

Gabe ignored the barb, relieved Louisa’s grandmother was still around. She was one of the few members of the Rhodes family who’d liked him.

Mrs. Rhodes took a step forward as if to block Gabe’s path. He knew exactly what she was doing. Louisa was next in line, and Mrs. Rhodes didn’t want her to see him. An angry pulse flared in his cheek. After all this time, they didn’t trust him to even
speak
to their daughter.

He glanced over Mrs. Rhodes’ shoulder. Louisa was laughing with the guests ahead of him, and she hadn’t yet noticed him.

“Mr. Gabriel,” Mrs. Rhodes said quietly. “I don’t know why you’ve decided to grace us with your presence after all these years, but today really isn’t the proper time, is it?”

The woman hadn’t changed a bit. She wasn’t worried about her daughter. She was more concerned with how it would look to the other guests that he was here. More concerned with how people might talk and what might be posted online tomorrow. Everything had a social or political agenda in Louisa’s family.

Gabe forced a smile. “I’m sure you remember I was never one to do what’s proper, Mrs. Rhodes. Besides, I was invited.”

“By whom?” she asked indignantly.

Gabe didn’t answer. He was staring at Louisa.

The welcoming smile on Louisa’s face disappeared as she turned to greet the next guest in line. Him. Her fair skin turned even paler, and her hazel eyes grew wide.

“Hello, Lou,” he said softly.

An interplay of surprise, sadness and more than a little anger flitted through her eyes. He’d expected all the above—except maybe the surprise part. Her delicate hand shook as it flew to her throat.

“Gabriel,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. Her mouth opened, but nothing more came out.

As he leaned forward, her eyes widened with apprehension. He pushed back a wave of sadness as he kissed her satiny cheek and inhaled the floral perfume he remembered so well. “You look beautiful.”

She stared at him, her expression uncertain. He stared back, not knowing what to say. Nothing he
could
say could bridge his five-year absence from her life.

Before he had a chance to say anything more, Mrs. Rhodes said, “You’re holding up the line.”

Gabe nodded to her, but didn’t immediately move on. He wanted to imprint Louisa’s image on his brain. She looked good. She’d obviously grown her hair out. What would it look like long and flowing around her shoulders, the wild curls dangling into the creamy hint of cleavage beneath the snug bodice of her dress?

He brought his gaze slowly back to her face. Her small pink tongue moistened her lips as she eyed him warily. He couldn’t help an inward sigh. The image he’d carried with him was from long ago, before life had added that sorrowful gleam to her eyes. Before
he’d
added it…

Senator Rhodes coughed. Gabe took the hint and moved on, but not before giving Louisa a long look and sending up yet another silent prayer of forgiveness.

****

Louisa found the terrace deserted. No one else was crazy enough to leave the air-conditioned reception room on a warm evening like this. To her, the night air was a welcome respite.

She gripped the railing and closed her eyes. After a few deep breaths, she felt better. The suffocating feeling had passed. She peered through the buildings of downtown Seattle toward Puget Sound, where a ferry boat cut through the golden-lit waters before disappearing from sight behind one of the city’s many skyscrapers.

Gabe was back. Obviously that was what her strange premonitions had been trying to tell her.

She’d known this day would come sooner or later, but she’d always assumed it would be later and that she’d have advance warning. She hadn’t had time to prepare tonight. When she’d turned to find him in front of her, just a little more than a foot separating them, her system had gone into shock. When she should have slapped him or at the very least told him to go to hell, she’d just stood there like an idiot.

Over the years, she’d worked out a scenario in her mind of how she’d react when she finally saw him again. She’d expected to call up all the pain, all the hurt, all the anger. She’d experienced those emotions tonight, just as expected. What she hadn’t expected though, what she hadn’t rehearsed in her mind, was the fluttering of her pulse when she’d seen him, the way her legs went weak as he’d kissed her cheek, the distant longing hidden in her heart for what used to be.

Divorce had ended her marriage to Gabe D’Angelo five years ago, but it obviously hadn’t ended the pain as the old hurt and betrayal enveloped her all over again. Why did he have to come back? She’d finally put it behind her. She could almost say she felt normal again. She’d immersed herself in her career in the years since the divorce, and now, she had her dream job as a graphic designer at the Daniels and O’Roarke Design Agency, one of the most respected firms in the area. She was in line for the coveted art director position. And, of course, she had Evan.

Evan.

She peered through the glass doors into the crowded reception. He’d be looking for her.
No
. He and her dad were probably drinking highballs somewhere having another deep discussion about politics.

Inhaling the slow-cooling night air, Louisa watched the sun set over the Olympic Mountains across the water. She’d go back inside in a few minutes, when she was more certain she could handle herself in front of Gabe. This time she’d have control of her emotions. She wouldn’t go suddenly mute as she had in the receiving line. This time she’d tell him—

“Beautiful night.” Gabe’s soft voice was right behind her.

Louisa jumped but didn’t turn around.

He moved beside her and leaned his hip against the railing. “I saw you disappear out here. Thought you might like something cold to drink.” He held out a glass.

Louisa stared at it a moment before taking it, careful not to touch his fingers or look at him. “Thank you.” When the cool condensation dripped down her wrist, she finally took a sip. Cranberry juice and 7-Up. He remembered.

When he lifted his own drink to his lips, she stared at it and frowned

“Coca-Cola,” he said. “Straight up.” He grinned.

Trying not to question the relief she felt nor the way her heartbeat sped up at his smile, she said, “How long has it been?”

“Going on four years now.”

“Good for you.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t.

He stared at her, his dark brown eyes as intense as ever and just as unnerving. “How are you, Lou?”

“Fine.” He didn’t deserve more of an answer.

“You look good.” His gaze swept over her, and the old blush swept upward from her toes.

He looked good, too. His wavy brown hair was glazed auburn from the setting sun, and brushstrokes of gray streaked his temples and sideburns. Five years wasn’t usually long enough for someone’s appearance to change too dramatically, but Gabe had changed. A lot. “You look older,” she said.

He chuckled and ran the back of two fingers over her cheek. “Sweet, honest Lou. Always says what’s on her mind.”

She averted her face, not liking the way her pulse sped up at his touch. She watched the evening traffic along Fourth Avenue far below for a few moments, not trusting her voice to speak.

She
didn’t
always say what was on her mind, otherwise she’d tell him he looked wonderful. He was one of those men who grew more attractive with age, and at 33 years old, he’d definitely grown into his looks. The new lines around his eyes and the slight creases in his forehead enhanced the rugged plains of his face, toning down the angles, giving him more character. She’d always thought he looked like an actor from the bygone days of the 40’s and 50’s, craggy-faced like a Bogart or Mitchum.

His body had also filled out. He’d always been lean and athletic, but now his shoulders and chest seemed broader, stronger. It was difficult to tell under that crisp cotton shirt, but she’d guess he’d put on 10 pounds or so since she’d last seen him. And from the way his shirt disappeared smoothly into the waistline of his charcoal slacks, none of it was fat.

His years away from her were obviously good for him.

“It’s the ponytail, you know,” he said.

She swung her gaze back to his face. “What?” A warm evening breeze pushed dark curls into her eyes.

“That’s why I look older. I cut off my ponytail.” He turned his head so she could see for herself.

She smiled. “So you did. I thought maybe it was tucked into your collar. Did my mother mention it?” She’d never known him not to wear a ponytail. Her mother had always despised it, calling him a “hippie” even though those days were ancient history.

“No. No, she didn’t. I think she was too much in shock to notice.”

Louisa pushed the hair from her face. “It has been a long time, Gabriel.”

Her smile disappeared, Gabe was sorry to see. But he’d noticed it never quite reached her eyes anyway. He leaned his forearms onto the railing. “You’d probably hoped never to see my face again, didn’t you?”

Her eyes closed momentarily, and he watched the small movement at her throat as she swallowed. “Why are you here?” she asked. “Why now?”

He swallowed a large drink of his cola. “You didn’t know I was coming, did you?”

Louisa pressed her coral-tinted lips together, then shook her head.

“I wouldn’t have come had I known that.”

She shrugged and took a sip of her drink. “It’s a free country. You have every right to be here if you want.” She rubbed the tip of her finger around the rim of the glass. “But I’m sure you’ve had other opportunities to come back these past five years.”

“I owed it to Sarah and Arty to come to their wedding.” He could tell by the lift of her small chin that wasn’t the reason she’d expected to hear. “And, of course, I wanted to see you.”

That was the answer she’d expected, but her downcast eyes told him she hadn’t wanted him to actually say it.

“After five years?” Her high heels brought her gaze level with his chin, her gold-flecked eyes bright with moisture. “You just disappear from the face of the earth without so much as a postcard, and that’s all you can say? You wanted to see how I’m doing?” Her voice rose a few notches. “I had no idea if you were dead or alive. I had no idea where you were. Last I heard, you were living in Phoenix with a photographer’s model.” Her voice caught with a strangled sound of disgust. “Then you even stopped writing to Sarah. All I knew about you was what I read online about your work.” She leveled an angry stare at him. “So don’t give me that crap about wanting to see me, okay? Just…don’t.”

“Lou.” He leaned toward her, and she backed up. He sighed. “I don’t blame you for being angry. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me. But at the time, I thought I was doing the best thing by leaving.”

“The best thing for
you
, you mean.” Her chin quivered as she sipped her drink, her face averted. She swiped at something on her cheek.

Her bare shoulders turned away, presenting her back to him. Although the deserved rejection stung, it didn’t stop his gaze from tracing a path down her long neck, along the dark curls cascading from her upswept hairstyle to where they brushed against the pale skin between her shoulder blades. He followed the trail over the pink bodice molded to her petite figure, hugging her rounded hips before flaring out with a rush of ruffles and lace above satin pumps.

“There you are, Louisa,” came a male voice from the shadows.

Louisa turned and smiled. “Evan,” she said softly, apologetically. “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have disappeared like this, but I needed some fresh air.”

She smiled again, this time showing her teeth. They were perfectly straight. They looked great of course, but for some reason knowing she’d finally bent to her mother’s will irritated the hell out of Gabe.

The man Louisa had addressed as “Evan,” as “
honey
,” strolled to her side and slid a familiar arm about her waist. Gabe almost told him to get his hands off her. But he no longer had that right.

Louisa glanced back and forth between the two men. She cleared her throat. “Evan Payne, this is Gabe, ah, D’Angelo.” She licked her lips. “Gabriel, this is Evan.”

The men shook hands, then Evan’s eyes narrowed. “D’Angelo?” He scrutinized Gabe. “As in, ex-husband?”

A muscle twitched in Gabe’s jaw. “One and the same. And you are…?”

“Louisa’s boyfriend,” Evan said.

Boyfriend
, Gabe mused with an inward grimace. That term just didn’t seem to fit anyone over the age of 19. It certainly didn’t fit this Evan Payne who looked at least 15 or 20 years older than Louisa. Unreasonable jealousy getting the best of him, Gabe sized up the other man. Same height as he was, stockier build, blond hair, shrewd blue eyes. He despised the man on sight.

He turned his attention to Louisa. Poor thing looked like she expected a fistfight to break out between them. She should know that wasn’t his style.

“So, Gabe, what brings you back to our fair city?” Payne asked with more than a hint of jealousy in his tone.

“Besides the wedding, I have business in the area.”

The answer didn’t seem to placate Payne. “Business.” A doubtful sound hissed through his front teeth.

“I’m presenting a lecture series to the UW’s journalism department.”

“You’re a reporter.” Not a question.

Gabe was used to such a patronizing attitude from Louisa’s parents. Apparently, her “boyfriend” was of the same mold. That disappointed him, but didn’t surprise him.

Louisa’s gaze darted back and forth between the men. She cleared her throat. “Gabriel is a photojournalist, Evan. He teaches photography at a college in Chicago and also works for World Geographic Magazine. He takes these beautiful, haunting photos of people living in war-torn countries.”

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