Getting Gabriel (10 page)

"It’s Saturday. We have a class today." He glanced at his watch. "In an hour, in fact. So, let’s get over this little tantrum. I need you there to help me out."

Alice told her heart to start beating again. She pushed him away hard and scurried to the kitchenette. Wouldn’t do for him to notice how agitated she was.

But at least she had some milk and a whole package of chocolate chip cookies. She grabbed both and headed for her tiny living room. She also had a television and sole custody of the remote. Who needed men?

She’d ignore him. She’d pretend he was invisible, and then he’d have to give up and go away. Eventually.

"Alice!" Gabriel cursed. "Why are you acting like I committed some heinous crime? You’re being a spoiled brat again."

And for the next hour, she felt worse and worse. She’d behaved like a complete jerk. A spoiled passive-aggressive jerk. All because she’d been blinded by jealousy, and she didn’t even have any right to be possessive of Gabriel.

She groaned. Was this what she was like? Was she a spoiled, self-centered, over-possessive brat? If she ever found Mr. Right, would she be the type to check his pockets for incriminating evidence, to spy on him and be paranoid whenever he had to work late?

Embarrassment almost made her draw the blinds and crawl into bed to hide for a week or two, but instead she dragged herself out to the car and drove to the center. She’d missed the first class, but she’d be there in time for the second one.

***

The second class was about to start by the time she made it to the gym. Gabriel hadn’t been lying about being eaten alive by the college girls. She couldn’t help but giggle. It was hard to be jealous when the poor man was looking so terrified. They’d actually cornered him off.

She strode towards the small group and tapped shoulders until she reached him. His expression of relief was followed by confusion and then wariness.

"I made it, darling," she said sweetly. "Am I too late?"

"You his girlfriend or something?" one of the disappointed girls asked, and Alice answered by squirming into Gabriel’s arms.

"You don’t think he’d trust anyone else’s knee where I had mine last session?" she purred. Gabriel pinched her arm and she squealed. "Gabriel!" she chided. "Watch where your hands are. We’re in public."

Gabriel looked at her quizzically. Something in his eyes warned her of an impending punishment for today’s behavior. But in the meantime, she had a whole hour of playing his girlfriend.

As the girls filtered out of the gym, Alice tried to follow, but Gabriel had grabbed her arm as he dismissed them, and breaking that grip around her wrist was one thing he hadn’t taught her yet. So she stayed, not looking at him, until the gym was empty and there was silence around them. Gabriel finally let go of her arm, but cornered her against the wall instead. He put his hands on his hips and stared at her. "So you decided to come, after all, darling?"

She shrugged. "I figured you needed me. I was right. You were about to be carved into ten pieces for them to bring home."

"And why pretending to be my girlfriend?"

"I’m saving you. They seem to respect the fact that you’re taken. They’re young. Still romantic enough not to want to steal another woman’s man. It won’t last long, though."

She tried to move, but he didn’t budge. Experimentally, she pushed at his chest. Nope. She might as well be pushing at a brick wall, and the lesson hadn’t covered brick walls yet either. "Uh, Gabriel, you’re in my way."

Staring her down obviously was the plan of the day.

"Gabriel? You don’t want to force me to show you how much you’ve taught me today. It would be painful."

Gabriel stared down at her. He was very close, and there was something in his eyes that thrilled and panicked her at the same time.

What was he thinking? To her mind, he was debating whether to kiss her, but her mind was clouded by the rosy glow of romance, and maybe he was just thinking about what a royal pain she was.

Why didn’t men have their thoughts flickering by on a small screen on their forehead? That would help male-female communication enormously. If she could be absolutely sure that he wanted to kiss her, she’d beat him to it. Then she’d wrap herself around him and not let go until he was convinced they would be good together. Great together.

In the meantime, he was still staring at her, and she was still too unsure to do anything about their close proximity. For one thing, he wasn’t close enough. Maybe she should see about a portable stepladder that would fit into her purse.

But, then there were these handy bars, pressing into her back. She lifted one foot and fitted it on one bar. She grabbed another bar with one hand, and lifted herself up. Yes. This was more like it. She was actually close enough to see the whites of his eyes now. Oooh, and the black. Dilated pupils. Wasn’t that a sign of interest? Or was it a sign of intoxication? Should she kiss him? Or wait for him to do something, before she fell off the darned bars?

His gaze was moving slowly over her face, lingering on her mouth, then moving up the side of her face, to her eyes, and back down to her mouth. It was just as tangible as a caress. Her free hand on his chest, originally there to push him away, began to register his heat and his heartbeat, and his eyes were very dark. Her hand moved, just an inch, but she knew, and knew that he knew, that it was a caress, an exploration of what was happening between them.

Gabriel drew in a sharp breath and pushed himself away. He stood for a moment with his back to her.

"Damnit!" He turned away and stalked towards the exit. Alice grinned as she let go of the bars and jumped down to the floor, her mood a million times lighter.

Excellent. She could recognize a panicked man when one was running away from her. She hummed as she strolled after him.

Yes, things were going just great.

What the hell was happening?

Gabriel cursed as he strode towards his pickup. He’d almost kissed her. He’d almost pinned her against the wall, buried his hands in her hair and...

He clenched his eyes shut and started the pickup. Better not think about it. It wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about kissing her, or touching her, or – No.

The tires squealed as he raced out of the parking lot. What had happened to his brain? Was someone inserting those thoughts in his mind? What had happened to his iron will?

He wasn’t going to think about Alice at all. Not her goose bumps, or her smile, or her small mouth or the way she sometimes looked at him...

What had she been thinking, anyway?

Well, he knew what he’d been thinking. And he’d read the same thing in her eyes, a desire so acute it had been agony to pull away from her. She wanted him. Well, she thought she did. She didn’t know what was good for her, but what definitely wasn’t good for her, was getting involved with him.

He hesitated at the crossing, then turned in the direction opposite to the way home. He’d go for a drive and think things over.

He needed some breathing space. That was it. He needed some time, alone, without her around, especially without them climbing all over each other in those self-defense classes. Whoa! That had been a very very bad idea, and would have to come to an end.

Hours later, when he finally went home, there was a note on his door. Recognizing the scrawl, he almost didn’t read it, but his conscience wouldn’t let him. With an oath he ripped it off the door so hard it tore in two. He hit the switch for the porch light, which only resulted in reminding him of one more item for his to-do list. Heading inside, he finally found a working light in the kitchen and threw the note on the counter.

Tomorrow he’d read that electrical handbook.

Alice’s writing was like her – lopsided and disorganized, yet clear and charming. He snatched his hand back and viciously kicked the leg of his new kitchen table when he found himself softly tracing the letters of her signature with a finger.

What was that all about?

Alien hand syndrome. Had to be. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about. Next thing he knew he’d be smiling sappily at romantic chick flicks and planting roses in the front yard. All because Alice was messing with his mind, and his hormones were allowing her to wreak all the damage she wanted.

A Y-chromosome was a terrible burden to bear.

He sighed and folded his arms sternly on his chest as he bent over the counter to read the note. He would not smell the paper to check for traces of her scent. Nobody did that except fragile old ladies in sentimental movies. It was absurd even to think about it.

Dear Gabriel. I have another date at tomorrow at eight. The address of the restaurant is on the other side. I reserved a table for you. It’s on me, too, so feel free to order the lobster. See you there. Alice.

Tomorrow? Tommorrow? What happened to taking Sundays off?

"Damn!" he growled and lunged for the phone, frantically punching in Michael’s number.

Michael’s answering service greeted him and he hung up with a grunt because he’d just remembered Michael was away for a conference. He would not be available to baby-sit Alice.

Tomorrow night he would work on the kitchen walls instead; prepare them for that badly needed new wallpaper. He’d have loud rock music on, plenty of beer, and he’d have fun scraping the walls.

He didn’t like the idea of Alice alone on a blind date with an internet weirdo – but she was right, she could take care of herself. She was doing everything by the book, and she was already getting quite good at the self-defense moves he’d taught her. She’d be fine just this once – and after that, she was Michael’s problem.

Yup. It was over. From now on his only worry would be the house.

He grabbed a sheet of sandpaper and smiled grimly as he headed towards the garage. Nothing like manual labor to take a man’s mind off woman trouble.

Alice kept glancing back to the entrance or out the window, trying to keep it inconspicuous and surreptitious, and probably failing. Where was he? He wouldn’t stand her up, would he? If he wasn’t coming, wouldn’t he at least have called and let her know?

Hadn’t he gotten her note?

It had been stupid to leave a note. Notes blew away in a breeze or got smudged in the rain. It hadn’t rained for several days and there wasn’t any breeze to talk about, but there was no still no guarantee the note had survived. For all she knew it had been gobbled down by a neighborhood cat with an eating disorder or stolen by a kleptomanic bird.

She should have called and made sure he’d be here.

Was he staying away on purpose? Had she scared him off in the gym yesterday? She grinned. He’d certainly run out of there like something with sharp acid teeth was nipping at his heels.

Poor Gabriel. But this was kind of fun...

"Is something wrong?"

Her blind date had noticed her distraction. It might have something to do with her having squirmed in her seat for almost half an hour now. She was also having distinct trouble focusing on the conversation.

It was all Gabriel’s fault.

"No. Sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I just... thought I saw someone I knew."

She tried to focus on her date. He seemed nice enough. Which one was this again? She’d exchanged so many emails recently that her alphabet guys were blurring together. Was this the lawyer who was interested in scuba diving? Or the single father architect with a passion for tropical fish aquariums?

"So, how are the fish?" she asked cheerfully. She’d be safe either way. But, for God’s sake, what was the guy’s name?

"The fish?"

"I’m afraid I don’t know much about fish, but I did see this TV program about how they may be much more intelligent than we give them credit for. And that myth about them not feeling pain – someone said that had been disproved."