Page 32 of Gabe (Blue Team #2)

So I didn’t understand. But Gabe’s arm around my back was getting tighter and tighter. Tension had infused him—his body was stiff under mine.

“I don’t see the problem,” I said gently. “It sounds like you’ve done well for yourself and your mom.”

“Right,” he muttered, gave me a squeeze, and went on.

“Zane was correct; I value material things. Money specifically. It’s not like I don’t know this, I just don’t give a shit.

When I left the Navy I could’ve retired and lived a decent middle-class life.

But I didn’t want middle-class, I wanted more.

I went to work for Z Corps and Zane pays four times what the Navy paid.

It was then I started enjoying my money.

By enjoy I mean spending it. I bought my mom a two-bedroom bungalow in Bremerton and I pay the yearly taxes on that.

I bought myself a condo and did that in cash.

Both of those are paid in full, no one can take them from us.

I want something, I buy it in cash. If I can’t afford it outright I wait until I can.

The only exception to that is the house I have here, that I have a mortgage on. ”

“No one can take them from you,” I whispered as understanding dawned.

“No one can take anything I have. It is mine. The condo, the cars, my dirt bikes, ATVs, boat, all mine. No bank, no landlord. Fucking mine. No shelter, no food line, no showering at a truck stop, no handwashing clothes in a sink, no handouts, no begging, no stealing, no secondhand shit clothes and shoes that don’t fit.

I have money in the bank and buy what I want when I want it and I buy nice shit.

That taste is still there. I still feel dirty.

It doesn’t matter I now shower in a house that I never dreamed I could afford.

In a bathroom that’s bigger than most people’s bedroom.

The dirt and grime doesn’t come off. And when I feel it start to press in I buy something to remind myself I’m not living in a car, wearing someone else’s cast-offs that don’t fit me, and I smell like I haven’t showered for a week because I hadn’t.

What you need to take away from that is, I have money and enough of it that I’m not in debt except for the house.

I take care to make that balance grow. And I make a lot of fucking money working for Z Corps.

But when I feel that pressure start to build I need to be able to do what I have to do to relieve it.

I don’t want to be talked out of it, counseled, informed my actions are whacked.

All you need to know is I’m cognizant that they are, I just don’t give a shit and I do what I do with that in mind. ”

I was stuck back on I feel dirty . After Gabe sank that verbal-blade into my chest I’d pretty much shut out the rest. Or at least I stopped trying to figure out why he thought spending his money that he’d earned and saved was such a problem.

And the answer was it wasn’t. He wasn’t digging himself into debt, he was smart.

By the sound of it, Gabe’s accounts were healthy, extremely so.

Money wasn’t his issue, the reason he bought stuff was.

It wasn’t the taste of being homeless. It wasn’t even that he’d been so hungry he used the word ‘starved’ to describe it.

No, Gabe’s issue wasn’t money—it was that he felt dirty.

I bet when he was a kid he’d been made fun of.

I bet his schoolmates had pointed out he wore hand-me-downs, but more than that I bet they made fun of the way he smelled.

That wasn’t a blade to the chest—that was a giant gouge out of my soul.

And I didn’t know what to do with that. I certainly wasn’t going to point it out. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to do my best to find a way to soothe that hurt.

“Gabe, it’s your money, you can and should spend it however you like. And it’s no one’s business but yours.”

I felt his fingertips resting on my hip twitch right before he pressed them into my flesh. This was semi-painful but I didn’t move. I let him react the way he needed to react and stayed quiet while he did it.

It was heartbreakingly sad Gabe used things to make himself feel better instead of turning to his mother or the people around him, who obviously cared a great deal about him.

But who was I to judge how he dealt with his pain.

It wasn’t like he was hurting anyone, and to use his earlier statement he didn’t drink it, inject it, or gamble away his problems.

“Something else you need to know.” And at his tone I braced.

“I’ve never had a relationship. I’ve had women come in and out of my life but I’ve never committed or been exclusive with any of them.

They were there and then they weren’t. I never contemplated a wife or family to the point I knew I never wanted either.

To me a woman and especially a kid meant responsibility.

They meant being tied down and obligation. ”

This was not good news and I hadn’t braced hard enough. His admission stung in ways I didn’t know words could sting. I wanted a family. I wanted commitment. I wanted a loving marriage with a man I looked forward to growing old with. And I really wanted children.

“What?” My voice was barely above a whisper and I wasn’t sure he even heard me.

None of that jibed with him asking me to take a chance and it certainly didn’t correspond with our birth control talk. He hadn’t freaked out that we’d had sex without a condom—an oversight that very well could lead to a child—he’d simply asked if I was protected.

“That’s how I know.”

“Know what?”

“That not making moves to convince you to stay here with me will be my biggest regret.

One I cannot live with. When I tell you I never wanted a relationship I mean I actively did everything I could to avoid it.

I went to great pains to make sure no woman ever got the wrong idea.

I know it makes me sounds like all sorts of a dick but the thought of being saddled with the weight of a family made my skin crawl.

“Now, after meeting you—and that was meeting you in the sense that I laid eyes on you—it’s the opposite.

Every time I’ve thought about you leaving and going back to California, not being close to me, I feel fear.

My gut twists and my thoughts turn dark.

That’s why I stopped fighting. That’s why I will not question how it’s possible.

That’s why I’m prepared to do whatever I have to do to convince you to give up your life in Riverton and move here.

That’s why I’m sure. Because before you, I was surrounded by people but lonely as fuck and I thought I was okay with that.

But now, I know what it feels like to have you close and I know I cannot live without you. ”

I was no stranger to heavy breathing when I was next to Gabe, most especially when we were in a bed.

But right then my breaths were coming out in ragged pants and it had nothing to do with both of us being naked, nothing to do with my hand resting on his bare chest, not one single thing to do with my leg being draped over his, both of those bare.

There was skin-on-skin contact from my chest to my knees but I wasn’t thinking about any of that.

I’m falling for you .

My biggest regret.

I feel fear.

He’d also said: You make me want to grab ahold of you and never let anyone take you from me.

Not only had he told me that, he made me feel it. He’d curled his arm around my shoulders and physically held me close and I swear never in my life had I felt more wanted.

I’d spent my life taking care of myself.

I went to the college I wanted even though it meant leaving my high school boyfriend behind.

I’d moved back home after I graduated college and that ended a relationship I thought had potential but we were going in two different directions and I wasn’t going to follow him to New York.

Then when I left Wisconsin to move to California I hadn’t thought twice about breaking up a semi-serious relationship.

Three times I’d chosen myself. Three times I hadn’t batted an eye.

I didn’t regret those decisions. But, like Gabe, I would regret not giving us a chance.

I could work from anywhere. I had friends in California, two I cared deeply about, but friends were friends no matter where you lived and Anaya was in Maryland.

I could be closer to her and baby Maxine.

“I’ll move here.”

The words had barely slipped out when suddenly I was on my back.

“Swear to you, I won’t let you down.”

I didn’t answer. Not because I didn’t have something to say but because Gabe kissed me breathless.

After he was done with my mouth he did what he said he was going to do.

And he was hungry—he ate and ate until I was begging him to stop.

Then he went on to prove he was a machine and went for rounds three and four.

When Gabe was done I wasn’t thinking about moving across the country or the monumental life-changing decision I’d made on the fly.

I passed out.

Happy. Relaxed. And it was worth the repeat—seriously freaking happy.