Getting Gabriel (2 page)

"Sure, make jokes. I pity the women you date," Alice said, almost sneering at him now. "You’re probably just as bad as those jerks I’ve been dating. I should tattoo a warning on all of your foreheads."

Gabriel put his head in his hands. Even tea would be a tiny sip of heaven right now. "Alice, what do you want from me? Okay, I’m guilty of being a man, but there isn’t much I can do about it, is there?"

"Maybe it’s me," Alice said. Her shoulders slumped. "Maybe it isn’t guys after all. . Maybe it’s just me. I turn them into jerks. Then another woman comes along and all of a sudden they’re Mr. Perfect. That theory would explain why all my friends have found their perfect man, and why my ex-boyfriends seem to have found Ms. Right."

Outside, dawn was breaking at last. She’d have to get to work eventually. He’d be free eventually. For a little while, at least. "Stop being such a drama-queen, Alice! Nobody’s perfect. Nobody has perfect relationships. There is probably a Mr. Good-enough out there somewhere for you, and he’ll have to do. That’s life."

"Mr. Good-enough?"

"Yes."

"I don’t want someone good enough!" she wailed. "I want someone perfect. Someone I can look forward to spending the next half a century with. Someone I want to be buried next to because we want to be together for all eternity."

Women.

Where did they get these ridiculous romantic notions?

And why had they been put on the planet with the homo sapiens male, who didn’t stand a chance of living up to their expectations?

"There aren’t any perfect men, Alice. You’re lucky if you can find someone you can actually stand to be in the same house with for a whole year or so. Welcome to reality."

As usual, he realized his mistake too late. Alice stared at him exactly the way she had so many years ago, when he in his big boy arrogance had let it slip that there was no Santa.

Oh, boy. He would be getting some serious coal in his stocking this year. Destroying her faith in true love was probably an even greater crime than telling her the truth about old St. Nick. Damnit.

Gabriel growled at himself and shoved a hand through his unruly hair, tugging on it to punish himself. Where had he been when tact was handed out? And why did she keep coming to him, confiding in him, trusting him, when all he did was bash her hopes and dreams, intentionally or not?

He was the biggest scoundrel in the world.

And she was no longer sniffing. No longer leaking dainty little melodramatic teardrops. Nope, she was sobbing her heart out, face red and wet with tears, nose running, her whole body shaking.

He was the biggest scoundrel in the universe.

Helplessness and self-loathing fought for supremacy. All he could do was reach out and pat her leg. "There, there."

She sniffed, then threw herself at him, her arms wrapping tight around his neck. She was warm and soft and smelled wonderful, and his face got buried on her hair, and he had to grit his teeth and remind himself that she was just a friend and would remain so, before he could trust himself to carefully pat her back and mutter his useless litany of ‘there, there’.

Damnit, he hadn’t meant to crush her dreams. Farfetched and ridiculous as they were, they were her dreams and he should have respected them. The world was already well on its way to disillusioning her; there had been no need for him to drop the truth on her fragile head in the clouds. No wonder she was sobbing as he’d never witnessed before.

He was a bastard.

"I’m sorry, Alice. I’m half-asleep. Don’t take what I said too seriously," he said, desperate to repair the damage. "I’m just a cynical bastard."

No answer. More tears.

"I’m sure you’ll find your guy, Alice. That perfect man of yours is out there somewhere. He’s just a bit hard to find, that’s all. It’ll all work out." He stroked the curls away from her face, feeling that same exasperated tenderness he always felt when he held Alice. Her curls came away soaked with her tears and desperation set in. "Alice, please don’t cry like that. You’ll find someone. I’m sure you will. If anyone can convert a mortal man into the perfect mate, you can."

He didn’t know if she heard. Her arms were so tight they constricted his breathing, her body shook with her sobs, and her endless flow of tears damped his neck. Cursing himself to hell and back, all Gabriel could do was hold her. He patted her back and smoothed her hair back, and tried saying soothing things, but not too many of those. The wrong words tended to come out of his mouth whenever he tried to comfort Alice.

He was pretty sure he was safe with "There, there.".

And then she fell asleep, still hiccupping. Gabriel inched her away and dragged a sheet over her. She looked beautiful, even below a 90-watt light bulb with her face all puffy from crying.

More of those protective feelings hit him. How could any guy dump her? As women went, this one was pretty close to perfect in his book. A nightmare, yes, and a bit of a drama queen, but still. Those guys had to be absolute idiots.

He reset his alarm clock. He’d let her sleep one more hour, then he’d have to wake her up so she could go home and get changed for work.

In the meantime, he had a hot date with a percolator in the kitchen.

There was only one problem, he realized, as he tried to inch his way out of bed. Alice wasn’t letting go of him. Her arm around his neck bore striking resemblance to a noose in force and determination. With a whimper he settled back and closed his eyes.

Fine. It was just an hour. He’d ruined Alice’s happy world, his punishment would be an hour’s wait for his rather less-divine source of bliss. He settled down and tried to get comfortable, the feeling of Alice’s warm body next to him alien and unsettling. He would ignore it. Determined, he shut his eyes.

The room turned out to be just as bright with his eyes closed. He opened his eyes again, deciding for sure to do something about that light bulb this week. This month, absolutely. He eyed the light switch on the wall and looked around for something to throw at it, since it was obvious he wasn’t leaving this bed any time soon.

Stretching, he managed to rummage in his bedside drawer, grabbing the first suitable missive. The brightly colored package was unopened, and he couldn’t even remember when he’d bought it, which was probably pathetic. Shrugging, he took aim, and threw. Instantly there was darkness.

Then the blasted light went on again. He sat up and blinked, noticing the alarm was still ten minutes away from beeping. "What the hell...?"

Michael fell into the chair in the corner, shoving the pile of clothing carelessly to the floor first. "You’ll never guess what Susan just did to me."

Gabriel looked from brother to sister, his confusion rapidly turning to panic. Alice’s back was to her brother, and obviously Michael hadn’t noticed anything yet, but when he did...

Cold shivers ran down his back.

"Didn’t you notice that doorbell?" he inquired. Why did he even bother to lock the door? Everybody seemed to have a key.

"I did. It’s not working. And I knocked, but you didn’t answer, so I guessed your bedroom door was closed and you didn’t hear, so I just used the key. The doorknob fell, off, by the way. I shoved it back in, but you probably want to fix it properly."

"I’ll put it on the list," Gabriel muttered. "Why don’t you start the coffee brewing," he suggested, hoping this sibling would be more cooperative in the hot beverage department. "I’ll get dressed and be right there."

"Let me tell you what just happened..." Michael said, his voice a growl, and Gabriel groaned. First Alice’s man-trouble, now Michael’s women-trouble?

And didn’t anybody drink coffee anymore?

"Let’s talk about this in the kitchen, Michael. I’ll be right there."

Michael noticed the lump in the bed, and jumped to his feet. "I’m sorry!" he whispered, his eyes on his sister’s dark curls peeking out from under the covers. He winked with a broad smile. That smirk would be wiped off in a microsecond if Michael found out just whose head the curls attached to. "I didn’t notice you had a ... guest."

"That’s okay. You couldn’t know." The words were tripping over each other in their hurry out of his mouth, because he could feel Alice stirring by his side. "Start the coffee and I’ll be right there."

Michael nodded and started towards the door. Gabriel relaxed in relief, but then Alice’s arm came around his neck again and she turned towards him, hooking her leg under his knee. "What time is it?" she asked, yawning against his shoulder.

Gabriel held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for anything, anything at all to happen, just as long as it didn’t involve him and his best friend’s baby sister in bed together.

There was hope yet.

Maybe Michael wouldn’t recognize his sister’s voice. Maybe he wouldn’t look back and see her head on his chest. Maybe an earthquake would hit, tearing the room in half, leaving a hundred mile fissure between him and Michael in big-brother mode.

The shout woke Alice fully. It probably woke up several people in the next county. She sat up, bracing her hand on Gabriel’s chest, keeping him down, and glared at her brother. "What the hell are you doing here?" she shot back, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Michael’s fists were clenched and there was fire in his eyes that didn’t bode well for Gabriel’s health. He ignored his sister and focused his furious gaze on Gabriel, his voice a menacing growl. "You’ve got some explaining to do, buddy."

"Nothing happened," Gabriel protested, struggling to sit up, but it was tricky with hundred pounds of Alice lying half on top of him. "She came here to talk and fell asleep. That’s all. She just got here this morning."

Michael stooped down and picked up the light-switch missive off the floor and threw it at them. "And how do you explain this then?"

But to his immense relief she threw the sheet off and got out of bed, turning in a circle to display her non-nudity to her brother. "Satisfied, big brother? See, I’m fully dressed and decent, even straight from Gabriel’s bed."

"You’d better be, kid."

"Oh, yeah? If I wanted to sleep with Gabriel, I wouldn’t ask you for permission. Stop meddling."

Gabriel let their bickering wash over him for a second before raising his hand. "Is this it, or can I expect more conference guests?"

He could have been speaking in a vacuum. No effect. He waited full two minutes, then cleared his throat and tried again. "Would one of you please toss me my clothes?" he asked politely, but the two siblings were still too busy throwing verbal darts at each other.

A few more minutes passed, and then he gave up. He threw the covers aside and stalked across the room to retrieve his clothes. Modesty wasn’t worth the bother.

The voices, first Alice’s and then Michael’s, fell silent behind him as he pulled on his jeans and yanked on a shirt before tuning around and facing the siblings again.

Alice was looking intrigued. "Are you always naked under your jeans?" she asked. "Isn’t that uncomfortable?"

Michael grunted. "Alice! You had no business watching him. That’s just rude. You should have turned away."

"Can we move this party to the kitchen?" Gabriel enquired, hands on hips and eyebrows raised. He’d reached a critical point. The siblings and all their mess he could handle, but just a few more minutes and he’d expire from lack of caffeine.

Neither of them responded to his question. Alice leered at him, though, as she answered her brother’s question. "Turn away and miss all that?"

"Alice!"

Gabriel left the room without looking back. The siblings could argue all they wanted – he had more urgent business. He needed black tar in his veins. He needed to kneel down and worship the percolator. He needed a large mug, filled to the brim, almost too hot to touch, the smell weaving in through his nose and teasing his taste buds even before the first gulp....

Most of all he needed Michael and Alice on some other continent.

He had already opened the cabinet when he remembered. With a groan he beat his head against the fridge. He’d meant to go shopping for ten days now. Every day he forgot – or decided he had better things to do. He’d run out everything, but of coffee only yesterday, and been determined that would get him shopping. But he’d been home late, and forgotten yet again.

Of all the days to run out of coffee...

He shuffled toward the front door and shoved his bare feet into his sneakers, then thought better off it and kicked them off again. He’d go primal and run barefoot to the store. Alice’s voice carried through the house and underneath it, the low rumble of her brother’s voice.

He shook his head as he let himself out of the house. They were nuts, both of them.

Jogging barefoot in jeans with no underwear wasn’t the most comfortable thing, he had to admit by the time he’d made it to the corner store. He was at the counter greedily clutching a hot paper cup when he realized he’d forgotten any money. The look on his face must have expressed his despair eloquently, since the girl at the counter took pity on him. "It’s okay," she said in sympathy. "On the house."