His Unlikely Lover (Unwanted #3) (24 page)

“Both you and Gabe keep saying that you know what you’re doing,” Chase observed in a low voice. “But from where I’m sitting you both look totally clueless. It’s frustrating the hell out of me because it’s like I can see the road ahead of you and it’s leading straight off a cliff.”

“I see the cliff,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Gabe sees it too . . . but sometimes falling is just inevitable.”

CHAPTER TEN

G
abe kept checking his phone for messages from Bobbi but of course there were none. He knew that she wouldn’t call or SMS—not after the way he had blown her off the night before—but he didn’t know what her reaction would be to a call from him.

He missed her.

Not just the sexy woman who had become his lover but the endearing friend who brightened up his days with her endless chatter about cars, her silly pranks in the past, and her quirky—often insightful—observations about life in general. It was after ten and he was sitting in the den, morosely staring at his phone, unsure of his next move.

Chase ambled into the room and Gabe’s first instinct was to tuck the phone beneath the sofa cushions. Chase raised an eyebrow at him and Gabe flushed, feeling like a defensive teenager.

“Really?”
His brother shook his head and sat down on one of the recliners. “You’re hiding your phone from me? Just call her. It’s better than having you mope around the house.”

“I’m not moping,” Gabe responded automatically, and then felt even more adolescent. Sometimes his brother brought out the worst in him.

“Could have fooled me.” Chase rolled his eyes, reached for the TV remote, and started to rapidly flick through the channels and every microsecond of noisy color that flashed onto the screen irritated the hell out of Gabe.

“Pick a damned channel,” he snapped, but Chase ignored him, continuing to cycle through the channels at the speed of light. Swearing irritably, Gabe vacated the room, seeking solitude.

He settled for the patio and dropped into a lounger beside the lighted pool. For a few minutes he just sat there, listening to the sounds of the night insects and frogs chirping, croaking, and whirring as they went about their business.

Just call her
. He repeated Chase’s words to himself. What was the worst she could do? Hang up on him? He winced at the thought. God, he hoped she didn’t hang up on him. He had no Plan B.

He pushed the “Call” button and listened to the phone ring for a few endless moments. It rang for so long he was almost certain it would switch to voice mail, but when her breathless voice answered, he found himself both relieved and panicked.

“Hello?” His mouth had gone dry and he couldn’t quite bring himself to respond to her greeting. He considered hanging up but . . . “Gabe?”

Yeah, Caller ID screwed him over. Of course she knew who it was.

“Hi, Bobbi,” he croaked, ridiculously nervous. “How are you?”

“Fine,” she said after a long silence. “And you?”

“I’m . . .” The
fine
hovered on his tongue and he opened his mouth to say it. “I’m a jerk. An idiot. A complete dick. And so,
so
sorry, Bobbi mine. I shouldn’t have been so abrupt with you last night. But . . . I
was
. And that’s no excuse. I have no excuse. I just hope you’ll forgive me?”

No response.

“Bobbi? Are you there?” he asked nervously.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I’ve missed you,” he told her softly, wishing he could see her. It frustrated him, not being able to see her face and read her mood.

“I missed you too, Gabe.” There was another long silence.

“Are you still angry with me?”

“I wasn’t angry with you,” she corrected.

“Will you come around tonight?” he asked.

“I-I don’t think so, Gabe,” she said after another endless pause and Gabe’s entire world started crumbling around him at the rejection. “I’ll be there for the football tomorrow night.”

“Right,” he responded numbly. He’d forgotten about the Friday night game. The guys and their significant others would be descending on his house the following evening. “Football. Of course.”

“I’ll see you then, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated. He held the phone to his ear for a long time after she’d disconnected the call before dropping his arm. He sat on the lounger, hands clasped between his knees, elbows resting on thighs, and head down as he tried to figure out what to do next.

“Gabe.” Chase’s voice startled him and he looked up to see his brother standing in front of him. Chase sat down on the lounger opposite his. “You okay?”

“Not really,” he responded honestly, and Chase sighed. “You’ll be happy to know she’s not coming around tonight.”

“Seeing you like this doesn’t make me happy, Gabe.” Chase’s voice was almost gentle.

“You were right, you know? I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Chase.” Gabe hated how his voice cracked. “I should never have touched her . . . but she’s just so damned alluring, so completely irresistible with that quirky smile, those lively eyes, and that wicked sense of humor.”

“You do realize that you don’t sound like a man who’s just physically attracted to a woman, right?” Chase pointed out, and Gabe frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Smile? Eyes? Sense of humor?” Chase repeated. “I was expecting tits, arse, and killer legs.”

“
Watch
it,” Gabe warned. “And she does have all of those as well, of course.”

“Gabe, you need to figure out what you want from her and fast, before you muck things up even more than you already have.”

Gabe snorted. Like he didn’t know that already.

Twenty-four hours later, Bobbi nervously made her way across the lawn toward the gate. She hadn’t heard from Gabe since his phone call the night before and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect from him tonight. She had felt awful after that awkward telephone conversation. It had been so tempting to just say yes and rush to his side again—but he couldn’t keep blowing hot and cold like that. It was too emotionally draining.

She crossed the threshold of the gate onto Braddock property and followed the echoing sound of masculine laughter coming from the back of the house. Gabe had a standard-sized football field, complete with lines and goalposts in his huge backyard. He’d even had small bleachers built on either side of the pitch. Their friends and family only ever used the stands closest to the house and there were never enough people to actually fill them but Gabe liked symmetry—so of course he had to have two sets of bleachers.

The group of men were standing around, chatting and stretching, a couple of them had pregame beers clutched in their hands. Their original group had grown to include Rick and Bryce Palmer, Pierre De Coursey, and Rick’s business partner, Vuyo Mashego. Bryce was more of a rugby player and didn’t take the Friday night games as seriously as some of the other men. He was one of the guys with a beer in hand, and so was his brother and Max Kinsley, a joker who didn’t seem to take anything seriously.

They usually played five a side: goalkeeper, two defenders, a midfielder, and a striker. Chase saw her first and ran over to meet her halfway.

“Hey.” He grinned when he saw her all kitted out in her usual football gear.

“Hi. Are you playing tonight?” she asked. With Chase there they had eleven players.

“I’m thinking of substituting.” He shrugged, not seeming particularly concerned about it. “Or refereeing, maybe.”

“Is everybody here?” Bobbi casually glanced around the field.

“He’s inside,” Chase told her, and she rolled her eyes, hating how obvious she was. “He’s waiting for Sandro. Everybody else is here. Except Billy, who called to say he’d be a bit late.”

“Did he say wh—” She stopped mid-word when she caught sight of Gabe exiting the house with Sandro and Theresa in tow. He had his arm wrapped around Rosalie De Lucci’s slender shoulders, and Bobbi felt like she took a blow to her solar plexus. She fought to catch her breath and couldn’t take her eyes off the gorgeous couple.

Bobbi hadn’t given the other woman any further thought after last Saturday. When the stunning woman hadn’t been at the girls’ night out, Bobbi had assumed that Rosalie De Lucci had returned to Italy. But no, here she was, showing up again like the proverbial bad penny. Gabe had his head bent toward hers, giving her his full attention as she said something to him.

“What’s wrong?” Chase asked, following the direction of her gaze. She was vaguely aware of him tensing beside her. “Who the hell is
that
?”

“Sandro’s sister, Rosalie,” she supplied, her voice sounding hollow even to her own ears. Theresa and Sandro finally reached the gathering beside the stands and everybody shouted out friendly greetings. Sandro was toting their sleeping toddler on his hip, he had his free arm around his wife’s waist, and he drew her in for a hug and a kiss before transferring the baby to her.

“Go on,” Theresa prompted her husband with a laugh. “Run. Be free.” Sandro grinned and jogged onto the field lazily, doing a series of stretches along the way. Like Gabe, he tended to take football more seriously than Bryce and Max did.

Bobbi couldn’t drag her eyes away from Gabe and Rosalie though. They had paused halfway to the field, and he was brushing her hair off her brow with a grin. The wind kept catching the silky strands and blowing it back into her face, so Gabe was fighting a losing battle. They looked like the cover of a romance novel standing there, leaning into each other with the wind in her hair and the backlights from the house delineating their shapes in silver. Bobbi would never look
that
perfect standing next to him. People would constantly wonder what he was doing with her. With Rosalie De Lucci they’d only nod and think,
Of course those two are together
.

She felt Chase’s arm creep around her waist and she leaned against his solid frame, needing the support.

“I don’t know what the hell that’s about,” Chase murmured in her ear. “But it’s probably not what it looks like. Turn away, before he sees that look on your face. You look like a woman who’s just had her heart ripped out of her chest.”

How apt. Since that was how she felt. She allowed him to turn her toward the field and watched the men warm up. Some of them, like Sandro, Vuyo, Pierre, and Rafael Dante looked almost professional, while the rest goofed around, kicking the ball to and fro and bantering while they did it.

“Let’s go get warmed up,” Chase suggested, and she nodded, needing to find some way to distract herself from the fact that Gabe still hadn’t joined them on the field. She maintained such total focus on her running and stretching that she barely noticed when someone came up to jog beside her until he spoke.

“I’m glad you’re here.” His voice made her break stride and stumble. She would have fallen if he hadn’t reached out to steady her.

“Gabe, I’m surprised you were able to drag yourself from Rosalie De Lucci’s side,” she said, and then winced at how bitter she sounded. She had promised herself she wouldn’t say anything but there she was putting her foot in her mouth again. She self-consciously wiped her sweaty face on the shoulder of her T-shirt before realizing how completely unsexy that must have looked. Especially in comparison with the ever-fresh, ever-polished Rosalie De Lucci.

“Don’t be childish, Bobbi. Rosalie is a friend and a very nice woman on top of that.” And he obviously found her attractive.

“You think she’s beautiful though.”

“Because she
is
,” he said impatiently, clearly done with the conversation. “You’ve been warming up for a while, the guys are ready to play.” He nodded toward the group of tall men standing in the middle of the field, and she felt her face flush in embarrassment. “Billy isn’t here yet, so Chase is subbing for whichever team picks him.”

She nodded brusquely and jogged toward the waiting group, leaving him standing there. When he joined them seconds later, the team captains, Sandro and Gabe, flipped a coin to see who would have first pick of the players. Gabe won and immediately picked Bobbi. She didn’t know how she felt about that; he’d
never
picked her first before. Neither of the men ever had. She wasn’t the strongest player, but she made up for it with speed and agility. Still the guys usually chose the bigger men first and the last choice always came down to Max and Bobbi, and she generally always got picked before poor Max.