Gabe Read online

  “Is he your twin?”

  “Fraternal. I’m three minutes older.”

  “Who is next?”

  “Max. He would throw himself in front of a bear if one were coming for any of us. When he became a Navy SEAL, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Then Luke. He’s wild like Hunter, but the two don’t see the similarities. And Knox. He’s the comedian of our family. At least, he was. He took Dad’s death hard. And finally poor Finn. Mom really wanted a girl. That’s probably all he remembers about her. He was very young when she died. How about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No, it was always just me and Dad.” Her throat closed as emotion welled up, and she blinked quickly. Loss was something her father had understood well, but when he’d spoken of a fallen Army buddy he never did so in terms of his pain. Instead, he always listed their acts of valor and highlighted the best of who they’d been. Holding to that tradition, she said, “He was a good man. A proud American, but one who could appreciate patriotism in people from other countries. He was a humble combination of dreamer and soldier. He would have given every one of his designs away if I hadn’t convinced him that we also needed to put food on the table. To him, the big picture was always the most important one and there was always hope. I liked the world a whole lot better when I saw it through his eyes.”

  Gabe took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Is that why you’re hiding on my ranch?”

  “I’m not hiding.” She snatched her hand away and gulped down half the wine in her glass. Calm down. He doesn’t know anything. He’s simply asking questions the way I did.

  “You are.” He sat back and took a sip of his wine before answering. “You yourself said you won’t leave the ranch to go to dinner. When was the last time you went out with friends? Or on a date?”

  When Josephine went to put her fork down, she accidentally sent it flying across the table. He caught it calmly as it was coming to a skidding halt in front of him. She asked, “When was the last time you did?”

  “Last night.” He held it out to her with a cocky smile.

  Last night? I bet she was beautiful, perfect. Probably a model. Or some rich man’s daughter. Not the type to send utensils flying around the room.

  It doesn’t matter.

  After he leaves on Sunday, I won’t see him again.

  “Curious as to which it was? Friends or a date?” he asked.

  “Not at all.”

  His smile widened. “It was a work dinner, actually. So colleagues rather than friends.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding but met his eyes boldly. “I really couldn’t care less.”

  He placed her fork next to her plate, but her declaration seemed to amuse him. “My ego is taking a beating with you. Just so you know, I don’t want to picture you with anyone else. As long as you’re not married to him, I don’t actually need to know.”

  Her eyes flew to his. “If there was someone I wouldn’t be here with you. I’m not that kind of person.”

  There it was, that cocky smile of his. “So, there’s no one. Good.”

  A splash of irritation was followed by grudging admiration of his interrogation skills. I need to be more careful. I’ve already shared too much. As Gabe topped off her wine she realized what was loosening her tongue. She pushed the glass to the side and stood. “Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful.”

  He rose to his feet. “Did I mention I’m Irish?”

  “You did.”

  “In Ireland it’s customary to thank the person who provided dinner.”

  “I said thank you.”

  He stepped closer. “It’s usually done with a kiss.”

  She held her ground, both because she retreated only when absolutely necessary and because . . . It would only be one kiss. One. Just enough to find out if being with him would have been as good as I’ve imagined it. “I’ve never heard of that custom.”

  He traced the line of her jaw with the back of one of his fingers. “It might only be mine.” He leaned in until his lips were just above hers.

  Josephine swayed and her eyes began to close. One taste then I leave. Just one little indulgence.

  Gabe’s phone rang in the breast pocket of his jacket. He let it ring through, looped his hands behind her waist, and pulled her against him. In a deep, sexy voice he said, “It’s my first time implementing it.” His phone rang again and he groaned. “I don’t want to answer it, but it could be something to do with my family. Some of them are taking my father’s passing hard.”

  “Of course,” she whispered back and would have moved away, but he held her to his side. What am I doing? This is not the plan. This is exactly how to screw up the plan. She let him hold her while he reached for his phone, though, because every part of him felt so damn good. How is that possible? We’re both still dressed, but my skin is on fire. Oh, God, if it gets better than this I may not say no.

  Gabe frowned when he looked at the caller ID then held his phone to his head. “Now is not a good time.”

  Josephine wasn’t trying to listen in, but she heard a man answer. “Understood, but we need more time. We haven’t found anything yet.”

  “Nothing?”

  “We have not yet been able to find a Josie Arlington who matches your description in the age range you gave us.”

  Gabe looked down at her as if checking if she could hear. She kept her face carefully blank even though she was pretty sure she was about to throw up from nerves. He’s having me investigated? Shit. Shit. Double shit.

  I don’t have money for lawyers.

  Without proof of my innocence, they’ll put me in prison and take my research.

  I can’t stay here.

  I can’t leave without my lab equipment. I don’t have the funds to purchase everything again, but I can’t pack it up while he’s here.

  Shit.

  Why can’t I be the kind of person who could kill someone?

  Or at least knock him out.

  “We found one Josie Arlington in the area, but she was eighty-six years old, and she died last week,” the man on the phone said.

  Is that where I came up with the name? I must have seen the obituary. Oh, my God. I’m getting sloppy.

  “I’ll call you with more tomorrow,” Gabe said abruptly and hung up. His expression was unreadable. He ran a hand up and down one of her arms in a caress, but stopped and looked down at her. “Is your tattoo fake?”

  She went to pull away from him but he grabbed her upper arm and held her still as he studied it. Real tattoos don’t flake off beneath the touch. Her stance changed as if she were preparing for another physical battle.

  “I like tattoos, but not enough to commit to one. Is that a crime?” She tried to yank her arm away from him.

  He waited for her to stop struggling then released her arm. “Not as far as I know.” His joke fell flat.

  She stepped back from him. “Thanks for dinner.”

  He stayed where he was because she looked cornered. That wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped she’d have to spending time with him. “Do you really want to leave?”

  Her eyes flashed with a hunger that matched the one burning inside him, but then she looked away. “It’s for the best.”

  “Spend tomorrow with me.”

  She shook her head. “I would, but I have so much I need to do.”

  Interesting. “Anything I could help you with?”

  “No. No. Just need to clean up a few things.” She crossed the room with ego-bruising speed.

  “Dinner?”

  She glanced over her shoulder as she started to open the door. “Maybe. Depends on how much I get done. Sorry.”

  From beside her he said, “Don’t be. I’m here to evaluate the condition of the house and grounds. I’ll do that while you get your work done. Take my phone number and call me when you finish.”

  Her hand tightened on the door knob and for just a split second he would have sworn she looked scared. Of me? His gut clenched. He was
ruthless in business, but not with women—never with them. He touched her shoulder gently. “Hey. You can say no. It won’t change our deal. You can still stay until the place sells.”

  She kept her face averted then turned, and the plea in her eyes knocked the breath clear out of him. “Two years. It’s been two years since I’ve been on a date.”

  He swayed toward her, drawn in a way that defied all logic. “And you’re scared.”

  She turned, with her hands holding the door behind her. Open to him. Vulnerable and so damn beautiful he could barely think. “Can we take things slowly? I’m not really good at this.”

  “This?”

  “Whatever we’re doing.”

  He raised his hand to her cheek. Reassuring her took top priority. “We can go as slowly as you need.” Although, hopefully, slowly wraps up by Sunday around noon.

  She let out a shaky breath. “I’d like to spend tomorrow with you, but not here. Can we go somewhere?”

  “Where would you want to go?”

  She took his hand in her warm one. “How about I surprise you?”

  He wasn’t a man who liked surprises, but if it meant spending the day with her, he was in. “Sounds perfect.”

  “We’ll leave early.”

  “Don’t you have things you need to do?”

  She let go of his hand and raised her thumb, running it ever so lightly across his bottom lip. “I’ll do them on Sunday after you leave.”

  Her touch felt so damn good.

  His blood headed south in a rush, and he wanted nothing more than to devour that sweet mouth of hers, but he didn’t. She’d asked for time and she was sure as hell worth waiting for. “Good.”

  “I do have one request, though.”

  “Anything,” he answered in a strangled voice.

  Her hand traced his chin then dropped to the knot of his tie. “Tomorrow, lose the tie.”

  She turned and darted out the door before he had a chance to say he would. In a gloriously painful state of excitement, he stood there, watching her go. He didn’t move until she paused at the door of the guest house and waved before going in.

  He waved back, closed the door, and walked into his father’s study. Josie’s absence affected his mood as much as her presence did. He wanted to walk across the driveway, bang on the door until she opened it, and simply be with her. Naked. Dressed. Talking. Silent. It didn’t matter. He needed more of her.

  This isn’t like me. I’ve never minded being alone. I don’t need anyone.

  After pouring himself a Bushmills 21year single malt, he pulled his tie off and tossed it on his father’s desk. His father had been with a fair share of women in the years after his mother had died. I’ll have to decide about the ranch next weekend, Dad. I’m sure you understand.

  Feeling too restless to consider sleeping, Gabe reached for his laptop and dug in to his work. The challenge of work always made him feel better. It was the place where things made sense to him. Did Dad feel the same after Mom died?

  Before I came here I thought I’d become a man you’d be proud of. In every way I thought mattered, I was winning. The expansion couldn’t have come at a better time. His team was strong. His network was solid. But is that all I am?

  Nothing would fall apart if he stepped away for a weekend. His evening with Josie hadn’t ended the way he’d hoped, but somehow that was even better. Most things came too easily to him. Women. Success. It was too easy to take both for granted.

  Josie was different. Nothing about her was easy or predictable.

  He considered calling back the security company, but he didn’t have anything new to tell them.

  Except that I can now imagine myself spending several weekends down here. Gabe took a healthy swig and raised the glass in salute. You were right, Luke. There are some things that are worth putting time aside for.

  Chapter Four

  Later that night, Josephine packed in preparation for bolting. It was easy since she had very few personal items. Once done, she showered, took out her contacts, and put on a nightgown her father had given her a few years back for her birthday. It had a high neckline and fell to her ankles. She remembered laughing and asking him if he realized she was no longer a child.

  In his gentle authoritative voice, he’d said, “You’re never too old to be modest.”

  She’d only kept it because he hadn’t given her many gifts, and he’d obviously chosen the nightgown himself. When she wore it, she felt he was with her. I never realized how much I relied on you, Dad. In all the times we relocated, were you ever afraid?

  I am.

  I’m afraid I will fail you.

  Afraid I might discover your death was my fault. Were you trying to prove something to me? Is that why you were on the bike that day? Did you keep something from me? I don’t understand what happened. What did I miss?

  If you were here you’d tell me not to blame myself, but how can I not?

  I convinced you the private sector was less dangerous than staying in the Army.

  She buried her face in her hands. Aloud, she whispered, “What if I don’t have the answers, Dad? What if I’m not as brilliant as you always said I was?”

  I ran, Dad. Now some say I’m a criminal.

  The worst part?

  I’m beginning to feel like one.

  You lost your life for this project and what am I doing? I’m sitting here mourning the loss of a man I just met.

  It’s probably a good thing I’m leaving this ranch. Six months doesn’t sound long, but it is when you’re alone. Weeks pass without me talking to anyone. No wonder I wish . . . She raised her head and wiped a stray tear. Nothing. It’s better to wish for nothing. She stood and walked back to the living room where her computer was.

  After tomorrow I’m gone. She plopped on her couch with a notepad and her laptop and used an alias along with a prepaid credit card to secure a moving truck for late Sunday night. Untraceable. There will be no trace I was ever here.

  I’ll simply disappear.

  She made a quick list of what she’d need. Red hair this time? Green contacts? No tats. I can be an unemployed waitress running from an abusive relationship. Or a frustrated writer looking for a quiet place to finish a book.

  I need a monthly rental. Somewhere within driving distance in case I forget something here.

  I won’t forget anything.

  Would black hair be less memorable? I can’t stand out. I need to be forgettable. She leaned back and closed her eyes. With Gabe, too. He can’t look for me after I’ve gone.

  He can probably have any woman he wants, and I’m worried that he’ll try to find me after I leave? It won’t be a problem.

  There was a firm knock on the door to the guest house that startled Josephine into almost dropping her laptop. She put it to the side and stood. She normally took her gun with her, but she’d left it in the toolbox. Because I’m distracted, and that’s dangerous. “Who is it?”

  “Gabe. I saw your light on. It’s a beautiful night out here. I thought you might like to sit out on the swing with me.”

  Her heart raced, and even though she knew she should say no, she wavered. She walked to the door, but didn’t open it. “I’m already dressed for bed.”

  “Throw a jacket on if you’re not decent.” His voice was light with humor. “Or don’t.”

  Josephine looked down. She was more covered up than she had been in her day clothes. If I’m looking for a way to show him I’m not a femme fatale, this should work. She opened the door.

  Although Gabe had taken off his suit jacket, he was still in the same trousers and light gray shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, though, and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone. She had a feeling he was the rare man who became better looking the more clothes he took off. I wish I could find out. She fought an urge to run her hands across his broad chest and bury them in his still perfectly groomed hair. He whistled and said, “That’s quite a nightgown.”

  She raised her chin proudly. �
��My father gave it to me.”

  “Before or after he chased your dates off with a shotgun?” Gabe asked with a chuckle.

  “My father didn’t require a weapon. Just a look from him sent most of them scurrying away.”

  Gabe nodded in approval. “Sounds like my kind of man.” He looked her over again. “And you wear it well.”

  “Thank you.” He sounded sincere. She closed the door behind her and lingered in front of it.

  “Come on.” He held out a hand for her to take.

  She hesitated.

  His smile was gentle. “I heard you earlier. No pressure. You can trust me.”

  She couldn’t. Not with the truth, but it was tempting to pretend for a moment that she was simply a woman agreeing to sit out beneath the stars with a man she liked. Would it be so wrong to let herself have this little piece of happiness? She placed her hand in his and lied. “I do.”

  “Good.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and walked down the steps with her, toward the main house. “If I remember correctly my father hung the swing so he and my mother could sit out and watch the stars.”

  “Sounds like he loved her very much.”

  “He did. She was the only person who could get him to stop long enough to enjoy a place like this.” Gabe held the porch swing still while Josephine sat, then he joined her. He placed his arm across the back of the chair and eased her against him. “Comfortable?”

  She nodded, barely breathing. She was exquisitely aware of every place their bodies touched. From the heat of his thigh against hers to the solid strength of his chest along her side.

  He pointed at a bright point in the night sky. “If I’m right, that’s Venus.”

  It was Mars, but Josephine wasn’t about to correct him. He could make up a new name for every constellation and all she would care about was how good it felt to be tucked into his side.

  As he absently played with the lace on the sleeve of her nightgown, he said, “I forgot how amazing the sky is out here. My brothers and I used to go out on the lawn with telescopes while my parents sat here. I can see why they loved this spot. Even here, the stars look close enough to touch.” He chuckled. “Who knows, maybe we’ll see the space station.”