Forgiven (12 page)

I feel like an amateur. Hell, I am an amateur at this. I should have thought to bring my binoculars. After she goes inside, I pull the car a little closer so I can see through the windows. It’s obvious they are studying. Gabby has pulled books from her book-bag. She looks less than thrilled to be there. At least I know her sour demeanor isn’t just with me. I guess this should make me feel a little better? It doesn’t. I want to know why she’s so bothered. I want her to tell me so I can make her feel better.

What I see isn’t at all what I expect. There is a guy who has brought them their drinks. He’s older, my dad’s age. There’s something about the way he looks at Gabby. It’s gnawing at my insides. It’s like he’s some kind of pervert or creep. I clench my fists. It takes everything in me to not want to storm through the door and ask him what his problem is, but I know I can’t do that.

He seems to, at the very least, maintain professionalism. I wonder if he’s the manager as I see him walk to several other tables. I assume he’s asking if everything is good with them. I’ve watched Joe do this for years. Maybe he’s even the owner. I don’t get how anyone could run a successful business eyeing college girls the way he just did my fiancée.

After about an hour, I watch as Gabby packs her things and throws away her trash. She stands and talks to Emmi for a few minutes with her bag on her shoulder. As they start to walk to the door, I realize I have to leave before she sees me. I slowly ease out of the parking lot watching through my rearview mirror until Gabby is in her car. I hang back as long as I can without losing her. If I’ve done this much, I might as well follow her and see if she makes her way home without any detours. I laugh out loud as I think to myself,
if the architecture business ever falls flat, you can always fall back on private investigation.

It’s definitely a challenge to hang with her, but not to lose her. I have become a sweaty mess. One thing I didn’t anticipate is that Gabby wouldn’t go home, but rather to my office. Shit. What the hell is she doing?

I rush to get Sharon’s car parked and race to the gym. I quickly change into my gym clothes and make my way to the treadmill. I realize I need to call Sharon and fill her in and frantically dial her number. This whole ordeal has been quite the workout, but I guess I’ll run a little bit to look the part.

“Mr. Banks,” Sharon says disapprovingly. She had already told me that this was a bad idea.

“Gabby is on her way up to my office. If I don’t make it back to you because of this hiccup in my plan, I’ll have your keys waiting for you in my locker.” I put the phone on the treadmill and turn it on speaker. “Can you send her to the gym when she gets there?”

“No problem. Mr. Banks?”

“Yeah?”

She hesitates, “Never mind. It’s not my place.”

“Your place?” She breathes into the phone and I can tell something is bothering her, but I don’t have time for this right now. “What is it, Sharon?”

“This isn’t the way to start a marriage. You shouldn’t be following --”

“I know, Sharon --”

I am almost pissed that she cut me off, but then it becomes perfectly clear why she did. “Hi Miss Gerhart. Are you looking for Mr. Banks?”

“Damn, I hope she didn’t hear you,” I whisper. Then I realize it’s not like Gabby can hear me so why would I need to whisper? “Thank you for the heads up. Remember keys in the locker.”

“Yes.” Sharon politely tells her. “He’s in the gym”

I increase the speed on the treadmill to a level that requires me to sprint. I know how long it takes to get down here. I need to be sweating more than this when she gets here.

As good of shape as I’m in, I feel like I’m about to die on the treadmill. I slow the speed down right as Gabby is walking in the door. I smile at my perfect timing. Screw cool down time, I can’t wait to get my hands on her. I cut the power and hop off grabbing a towel.

“Hey you. Did you come to work out with me?”

She shrugs and smiles that shy smile. “No. I thought you usually worked out later.”

“I needed some stress relief.”

“Oh. I just missed you and wanted to surprise you.”

I use the towel to wipe the beads of sweat from my face and toss it into the dirty linen’s bin. I reach my arms around her and pull her into my body. Her hair is in a ponytail. She has no idea how sexy I think she looks with her hair like that. There are little tendrils that have fallen down and frame her face and neck. I bury my face into her neck and inhale her sweet scent.

Mmm. It intoxicates me, totally consuming me. I start nibbling her neck wanting to completely get lost in her. I never thought I would miss our meet-in-the-middle dates. I don’t miss the distance. I miss the impulsivity, and our hungry desire for each other. I work my way up to that special spot around her ear lobe. As a small whimper escapes I feel her body completely submit to me. Yes, I have missed this.

“You’re all sweaty,” Gabby whispers.

“So.” I move my hands up towards her ponytail and give it a gentle tug. “I love your hair like this.”

She laughs. “Is that right?”

“Mhmm.” I swirl my tongue around her lobe. “How’s your day going?” I briefly feel bad that I kind of already know the answer to that question.

“Much better.” She tries to push me away. Ugh. “Seriously, you’re all sweaty.”

I back up from her, and she looks like the cutest thing with her nose scrunched. I can’t help but chuckle. “That look on your face suggests I’m not just sweaty, but also that I stink.”

“True story.” She laughs.

I swoop her up in one quick motion. Even though she protests everytime I do it like she doesn’t like it, it’s always playful protesting and I know that she loves it when I carry her around.

She kicks her feet back and forth like she’s swimming in the air. “Hey. Put me down. Where are you taking me?”

“To the shower.”

“You need the shower, not me!”

“True story.” I mirror her words and smirk.

“What if someone comes in?”

“That’s what locks are for, Gabby Girl.” When I get to the shower door, I close and lock it. I turn the knob to turn the water. Thank goodness these showers never take long to warm up.

Gabby jumps back wide eyed with her mouth gaping open as her clothes are quickly soaking wet. “Our clothes?” she urges.

I daringly raise my eyebrow at her. “We have extra.”

“Well that’s a good thing. I’m not sure about this.”

I move to fill in the distance she’s just put between us and pull her back into the water. “Why not?”

“This is your company gym,” she quietly replies as she looks around as if someone can see or hear us.

“
My
company gym.” I finally take her bottom lip into mine realizing that I need that connection with her.

She moans as she gives into my kiss and finally wraps her arms around my neck. Our tongues are doing their familiar tango as my hands begin to unbutton the buttons on her shirt. When I undo the first one, I kiss her bare skin on her chest. “You.” Then I undo another, kissing her cleavage. “Are.” When the next button is undone, I skim my fingers up to her shoulders and push the shirt off of her shoulders. She wiggles her arms free. Now I’m back to where I started. “So.” Those shoulders, that sweet neck of hers. I nibble my way back down to her chest. She holds my head between her palms and plays with my hair, which feels so good. My tongue laps up the warm water bouncing off of her. “Beautiful,” I murmur as I undo the last several buttons.

Gabby freezes as I hear a voice. It doesn’t take me long to recognize it’s Sharon’s. I don’t hear anyone else, so she must be on her cell phone. “Shh.” I put my finger up to her mouth. She surprises me when she takes it into her mouth and gives it a quick bite. She doesn’t release it, though. She keeps a gentle grip on it and swirls her tongue around. She can be such a damn tease, and I’m pretty sure that this is a punishment tease. I should have known better than to do this. I got so caught up in the moment that I totally forgot she was going to have to come get her keys. I wonder for a moment if she heard us while we stand quietly in the shower until it’s quiet again. Hopefully since she’s on her phone, she wasn’t paying attention.

When I realize the coast is clear, I pull my finger from her mouth. “That was sexy as hell.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed that. You can have more of that at home.” She picks up her shirt, climbs out of the shower and uses one of the towels to dry off. Glancing back over her shoulder, she teases me.
Teases me
. I feel like a horny teenage boy who tried to get laid in the high school locker room or something. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

I decide to let her go get herself together while I finish up my shower. I can tell she’s a little frustrated with me, and I can’t blame her. What is my problem? I don’t even recognize myself today. Actually, I do. This is the guy who I was before her. The guy I couldn’t stand during those three months that I reflected back on my actions and inactions. Following her and then trying to act cool and in control to make myself feel better. Typical playboy Bradley Banks. No wonder she’s irritated. Did I actually think this would help our situation?

My mind goes into a planning frenzy. I have to make this up to her, and I have to find a way to tell her what I’ve done today. I can’t stand the way this is eating at me. It will have to wait until after tomorrow, though. I have every intention of going back tomorrow and finding out who he is, and why he seems so fixated on my fiancée.