Single and Searching (8 page)

"What?"

"I've never had publicity like this before." Brenda beamed with excitement. "I've always been the brainiac. Even though what you said about me wasn't flattering, it shook Harry up."

"Harry?" Gabe wiped his ears, wondering if he had a piece of cake stuck inside.

"Harry is my fiancé!" Brenda waved her hand, a diamond glittering. "That is, he is now, because of you! He was so jealous when he read the article and realized I'd gone out with someone else that he ran out and bought me a ring. See!"

Frita and Maureen hugged Brenda, screaming congratulations.

Gabe inched toward the door. Why had he come back here? This place was a madhouse. He certainly wouldn't get any more work done today. And he would never understand the female psyche. These three women had never met, and here they were crying over Brenda's engagement.

Hank chuckled as he made a break for the door. Once outside, Gabe decided he didn't care if he ever figured out the female population.

The memory of Casey's angelic face stopped him short. She was the only woman who mattered.

He had to make Casey McIntyre fall in love with him.

Well, no, maybe not love. He had to make her forgive him.

No. He definitely wanted more than forgiveness.

He wanted her to look up at him with admiration. He wanted her to like him. No.

He wanted more than that.

He wanted her to lust for him.

He wanted her in his bed.

He wanted her arms around him, her naked body writhing beneath his. He wanted her calling his name over and over in a fit of passion until she screamed with pleasure.

At least once.

No, he wanted more than once.

At least a dozen times. Maybe a hundred.

The words Casey said about her own ad sprang to mind. "I think the woman was very clever and creative. She used the alphabet to tell you things she liked." Hmm, the letter "a." Casey liked antiques.

An idea suddenly struck him, and he headed to the car on a mission.

He knew exactly what he was going to do. First he had to clean up, then check out the robbery scene. Then he would woo Casey with her own words.

* * *

Gabe knocked on the door of the small house, hoping this lead would help him solve the alphabet robber case and give him the story he needed.

The door swung open and a tiny frail man wearing what looked to be a woman's pink chenille robe and purple slippers, shuffled forward.

"What you want, mister?"

Gabe stifled his surprise by clearing his throat, his gaze scanning the room. "I'm a reporter investigating this latest string of robberies."

The old man grunted and wiped a gnarled hand over his wrinkled face. "Police done been here."

"This will just take a minute."

The old man tightened the lacy sash around his waist.

Gabe sniffed. Was the man wearing perfume? The scent seemed familiar but he couldn't place it. "Can I ask your name, sir?"

"Name's Carla. I was Carl fifty years; I plan to spend the next fifty as a woman."

Gabe almost choked in surprise. "Okay, well, ma'am, can you tell me what was stolen?"

"My laptop, a printer, new cell phone. Hadn't even taken the things out of the danged box."

Gabe jotted the information down. "Anything else?"

Carla nodded. "Ipod, speakers, and a few personals."

"Personals?"

"Yeah, can't find my girdle. Turned this place upside down looking for it."

Gabe smothered a laugh.

"Weirdest thing, too. Robber left me this here little magnetic letter as if that'd make up for taking off with my stuff."

"A magnetic letter?"

"Yeah, like those go on your refrigerator." Carla held up the letter G.

It was exactly like the ones found at the other robberies, just like the ones most kids played with, just like the ones strewn across Casey's floor.

"Gotta get ready for my date," the old man said. "Georgelina'll be here any second. Still got to get my eyelashes on."

Gabe nodded and ducked out the door. He tried to be an open-minded kind of guy. But he had a feeling he didn't want to meet Georgelina.

* * *

Casey punched the T.V. off and snorted at the six o'clock rehash of the morning news. Watching the dark-headed mayor's daughter drape herself over Gabe Thornton turned her stomach. And right on television! So, the man wasn't exactly pining over her. What did she expect?

Brick poked his head in, a giggling Henry S. chasing him.

"Now, Brick, no X-rated movies. Henry S. is only two."

"Yes, ma'am." Brick gave Casey a mock salute. "The book's coming along nicely, Casey. I've already got some ideas to enhance your art projects on the page."

Casey smiled. "Great. I think I should meet the deadline on this one with no problem. Having my little helper here speeds things up." Casey ruffled her hand through her son's thick hair.

"He helps?" Brick pointed to the toddler as he bounded by and tossed a handful of cereal onto the floor. The dog raced after it, lapped it up, and flopped his big furry body down. Rolling to his stomach, Dog whimpered in pleasure as Henry S. gave him a belly rub.

Casey laughed. "Well, sometimes it feels like two steps forward and one back. He does make a mess, but he's built-in research for me. He shows me how kids respond to my art ideas for kids."

Henry S. rolled to his back, stuck out his tongue and started panting like the dog. Brick leaned over and tickled him until Henry S. squealed.

"Brick, are you sure you don't mind staying with him for a while? I don't really have to go out."

Slinging Henry S. on his powerful shoulders, Brick raced around the room, pretending he was the horse and Henry S. a bronco rider. If it wasn't for his massive frame, she'd think there were two kids instead of one.

"You know I don't, Casey," Brick said. "Sheila and I are on the outs right now. It'll be our Friday night with the guys."

Henry S. giggled. "Giddy up, horsy."

Brick raced faster, his long blondish hair fluttering around his collar and reminding Casey of a palomino.

"Let's go out back, buckaroo," Brick said.

Casey laughed and slipped her feet into a pair of sandals. "Just remember this little boy is under age—no seedy bars!"

Brick waved her off and dashed outside.

Why she'd accepted this date, she didn't know.

Still, Casey checked her outfit. Yes, she did know. She had to take her mind off Gabe Thornton.

Plus, she'd promised Jenna she wouldn't give up. She still needed a date for her awards dinner. Her ad would run for one more week, so why not take advantage of the replies?

Maybe she'd meet someone nice. Someone stable. Someone safe. Someone the opposite of Gabe Thornton. Then she could forget about his smoldering looks and passion-drugging kisses.

Gabe Thornton was a threat to her peace of mind. He wasn't nice, stable, or safe. He was sexy, arrogant, and one man she intended to avoid.

The doorbell rang. Casey hurried to answer it, expecting to find her date, Mike. To her surprise, Gabe Thornton stood in her doorway. His gaze raked over her body from the top of her head to her red painted toes. The smile he flashed her made her pulse accelerate. He was dressed in pressed khaki pants, a button-down navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up and sleek Italian loafers. A patch of whiskey-colored hair peeked through the opening of his shirt where he'd left the top button undone. His freshly shaven face tempted Casey to caress his jaw.

Darn the man. He wasn't supposed to show up at her house looking like this!

Gabe clutched a small box in his hand and Casey's palms began to sweat.

"Hi." He whistled as his gaze raked over her. "You look great."

Casey's mouth went dry. "Hi." She wished she'd worn slacks instead of this short denim skirt. If that mischievous gleam in his eyes meant anything, his thoughts bordered on pornography.

"I guess you're curious about why I'm here."

Casey nodded, not trusting her voice yet. The image of the moonlit oak tree flashed in her mind, and she fought the urge to drag him to the backyard.

"I brought you something. A gift to apologize."

She studied Gabe through wary eyes. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know. I wanted to." Gabe shifted, leaning against the doorway. "Please open it."

Once again, the sexy man's large size struck Casey. She took the package and traced the delicate Victorian gift paper as if she needed to memorize the details.

"It's too pretty to open," Casey said in a quiet voice. Memories of being homeless, of foster homes, of past Christmases with no tree and empty stockings taunted her, resurrecting painful feelings she'd struggled to overcome.

Gabe gave her a charming grin. "Go ahead. I think you'll like it."

Drat. His dimples made him look even sexier.

And she couldn't very well be rude.

Resigned, she gently pulled away the paper away, taking great care not to tear it. When she finished, she folded the paper and neatly laid it on the counter. Words stalled in her throat at the sight of the delicate wooden box.

"It's beautiful," Casey said in a choked voice. She pulled the box out, tracing her fingers over the ornate carving.

"It's an antique keepsake box," Gabe said.

A tear trickled down her cheek. Gabe hadn't bought just any present. He'd bought something very special. Something she'd specifically mentioned in her ad.

"I filled it with something for now. Of course, you can take it out and put whatever you want inside."

Casey lifted the lid and removed a small tin of potpourri and decorative soaps. The warm cozy scent enveloped her like an aphrodisiac.

"It's apples and cinnamon. I smelled it when I came in your house last night. It reminded me of my mom's homemade pies."

Casey forced herself to look at him. If he didn't leave soon, she'd probably blubber like a baby.

Sincerity softened his angular features, and his dimple appeared again. He reminded her of Henry S. when he was trying to make amends for misbehaving.

"I don't know what to say, Gabe. The box... it's beautiful."

Gabe slanted a grin, shifting his weight onto his other foot. "You could invite me inside."

Casey tightened her fingers around the gift and glanced at her driveway. A motorcycle buzzed by and whipped in behind her car. Oh, Lord, was this Mike?

Her date was here to pick her up on a motorcycle?

"I can't, Gabe. I'm sorry. I already have plans with Mike."

Gabe's smile disappeared. "With whom?" He glanced at the motorcycle and back at Casey. "Not that guy?"

Casey gritted her teeth. She had a sinking feeling he
was
her date, and she wanted Gabe to leave before the man made it to the door.

Biker guy shut off the cycle, taking his time removing his helmet. Brick chose that moment to come racing around the house with Henry S.

"Who's he?" Gabe asked.

A tremor ran through her at Gabe's almost possessive expression. "That's... that's Brick."

Too late, Casey remembered about the condoms. Gabe's brows flew up as if he remembered, too.

How in the world had she gotten herself in this awkward situation?

Then his gaze locked with hers. If his eyes weren't considered lethal weapons, they should be.

With the condemning look he shot her, she would already be dead.

Chapter 4

Gabe Thornton had a mission. A mission named Casey McIntyre.

A mission that didn't involve one Mr. Brick studman or Mike the motorcycle maniac.

Dammit. He'd never had a jealous bone in his body. Not until now. Now he had two hundred and six.

While Gabe fought the urge to pound somebody, Brick bounced little Henry S. up and down. Exactly who the hell was
Brick?
The owner of the triple extra-large, neon green condoms slung Casey's son onto his shoulders like he was part of the family and looked at Casey as if he knew her intimately.

Gabe seethed.

Was Brick Henry S.' father?

Casey's lover?

"Hey, Casey, is this your date?" Brick asked. His hulking form finally stopped bouncing Henry S., and he stood beside Casey, scrutinizing Gabe.

Casey's smile seemed forced. "Uh, no. This is Gabe Thornton. Gabe, this is Brick Dazzleton."

Motorcycle guy sauntered up the driveway.

Gabe's jaw ached as he forced a polite smile and extended his hand to Brick. If Brick and Casey were lovers, why was she going out with someone else? Didn't studman care? Did they have one of those strange, open relationships?

"Oh, you're the guy who helped Casey out with the toilet. Pleased to meet you, Gabe," Brick said. "Our little fellow here gets into some real situations, if you know what I mean." Brick twirled Henry S. around and dropped him feet first to the ground.

Henry S. giggled and tugged at Brick's leg. "Again, again."

A wide grin encased Brick's face as he ruffled Henry S.' hair. "In a minute, partner." Brick turned back to Gabe. "I should have known better than to leave those condoms where Henry S. could get them. He's a little young yet." Brick laughed, draping his arm loosely around Casey's shoulders. Casey rolled her eyes and started to explain, but Henry S. began to spin in circles and make airplane noises distracting her.