Page 49 of Gabe (Blue Team #2)

I felt like I was running on fumes and an adrenaline high.

At least it was the good kind of adrenaline and not the scary kind.

The last four days had been a whirlwind.

The first two because Gabe had been unconscious.

Though over the last two days since he’d been awake, I’d learned he was actually in and out but didn’t have the strength to open his eyes, and the awake parts weren’t for long and they weren’t frequent.

Cooper, Owen, Kyle, Anaya, Nat, and Ivy all left the night Gabe had woken up.

Ivy wanted to get back to her son, Coop and Owen had work to see to, which meant Nat was going with Owen.

And Kyle wanted his girls home. My parents informed me they were going back to Maryland and they’d see me there when I brought Gabe home.

This wasn’t a surprise. But I was surprised when Gabe insisted they stay at his house and not a hotel.

And in a more shocking turn, my dad took him up on his offer.

I hadn’t talked things over with my dad.

I would do that before he went home. What I had done was spend forty-eight hours lying next to Gabe talking to him.

The roles were somewhat reversed. He’d spent the first two days asleep and I’d slept very little.

The last two days I dozed between our talks and some of our chats had been deep .

Gabe told me more about his childhood. Nothing new per se, he just gave more detail.

All of it was heartbreaking. In my mind, I’d pictured a hungry little boy—and he had been—but I never imagined him going days and days with no food.

And that had happened the first summer when they lost their apartment.

His mom had sunk into a depression and lost her job.

With no money, no school cafeteria, Gabe had gone for long stretches of time not just hungry but starving until his mom found another job.

That wasn’t heartbreaking—it was soul-crushing.

And I took an oath right then and there never to give Gabe grief when he tried to force-feed me.

I’d eat whatever, whenever, as long as it gave him peace of mind.

He also explained that he’d invested in Garrett’s software company which Garrett still owned on top of working at Z Corps.

Therefore when Garrett sold the G2 application Gabe and Garrett both made a mint.

The more I listened to Gabe talk about money, the more I realized he didn’t have a problem with it, as he told me.

He was smart, invested, saved, had healthy retirement accounts but spent his extra money on whatever he wanted.

That wasn’t a problem in my book. He worked hard to earn it and spent it how he saw fit.

Between conversations learning about him, I told him everything about me.

It was like a non-stop forty-eight-hour speed date.

We crammed months’ worth of getting-to-know-you into hours.

And somehow it was perfect. It felt right.

We fell in love with a look. We got to know each other in a hospital bed after we’d been kidnapped together.

It was us.

Totally.

And now Zane was driving us back to Gabe’s house and we’d be there soon. Weirdly, I wasn’t nervous about this. It didn’t feel fast even though it was. It was lightning speed and I hoped we never slowed down.

A phone rang from the front seat of the Suburban.

I tore my eyes from car-watching out the back window and slid my gaze between the two front seats.

Thankfully, sometime in the last four days since Gabe had been in the back seat bleeding, someone had the SUV detailed and there were no more dark red smears on the light gray leather.

At first, I was concerned about sitting in the seat Gabe had been laid across.

I was worried I’d have some sort of flashback.

But strangely I was comforted. We’d gotten Gabe to help.

He was alive. I was alive. And all was well.

“Joe,” Gabe answered. There was a long pause. Then he finished with, “Right. We’ll be there in about twenty. See you when you get back.”

Gabe tossed the phone back in the cupholder, craned his neck to look at me, and smiled.

“Your parents are going to the store.”

That was something else that happened. My dad took to calling Gabe.

Not me—Gabe. I thought he was doing this in an effort to glean some insight into who Gabe was.

Or maybe he was talking to Gabe so much because he was waiting for Gabe to expose that he was really an asshole so my dad could throw me in his rental car and drive me back to Milwaukee under protest.

I didn’t ask Gabe’s opinion on this. I just rolled with it.

My mom on the other hand called me and she did this every few hours.

At first, I thought she was doing it to make sure I was really okay.

But then I realized she wasn’t. She called to tell me about Gabe’s house.

I’d admitted I’d been staying in a safehouse so I’d never been to Gabe’s home.

My mother had excitedly told me all about it.

The view was magnificent. The kitchen was a chef’s dream.

The sunroom would be a perfect reading nook.

The dock was spectacular. The master bedroom was paradise and the bathroom was to-die-for.

The last part I found alarming and told my mom to stop snooping in Gabe’s personal space.

I knew she’d ignored me when she called again to tell me about the walk-in closet and all the other closet space besides.

Needless to say, my mom loved Gabe’s house.

She didn’t make it into a big deal that I was moving in with a man I’d known a short time, into a house I’d never seen.

In one of our conversations she’d whispered, “When it’s right, it’s right. And only you know if it’s right.”

My mom was a smart lady and since she reminded me I was the only person who knew what was right for me, I let it go and moved on.

“My mom’s sweet but she’s bossy when she’s in the kitchen,” I blurted out.

“What?”

I flung myself against the seat and for the first time since we left the hospital nerves set in.

“My mom. She seems all sweet and docile—and she is. Except when she’s taking care of those she cares about, then she turns into a bossy beast. Growing up, there wasn’t a time when I had a sniffle she didn’t baby me to an extreme.

Seeing as you’re banged up she’s gonna baby and boss you.

She won’t care you’re a grown man or that it’s your house.

She’ll order you to the couch and she’ll wait on you hand and foot.

She feels it’s her duty and she takes it to an extreme .

It’s annoying and if you fight it she becomes more annoying.

So I apologize in advance and I’ll do what I can to divert her attention.

But not even Dad can escape this behavior so while I’ll try, I know I’ll fail. ”

Gabe was silent for a beat and a look of sadness washed over his battered and bruised features.

Four days after the beating, his face was multicolored.

Yellows, greens, and purples covered his forehead, cheeks, eyes, and jaw.

Not to mention he had stitches holding the gash on his forehead closed.

I didn’t need stitches to close mine, just a few steri-strips, and I was lucky there was only a tiny bruise from hitting the dashboard in the initial accident. But Gabe looked a fright.

“Everything will be fine,” he said, but by the way he said it I knew it wouldn’t be.

“I’ll ask my dad to talk to her.”

“Never had a mom take care of me.”

Oh. shit .

“Gabe,” I whispered a pain-fueled plea for him not to continue.

“Never had it but I reckon even though you were annoyed it still felt good. Stop worrying. Everything will be fine.”

Since Gabe spoke the truth, it had felt good more than it’d felt annoying, and since he never had a mom who had the opportunity to dote on him, likely because she was working herself to the bone, I nodded my agreement and dropped the subject.

I spent the rest of the drive lost in my head.

Images of a younger Gabe sleeping in the back of his mother’s car plagued my mind.

I also couldn’t stop thinking about why he made no mention of me meeting his mother.

Conversation flowed between Zane and Gabe, mostly about Delilah’s last known location.

I didn’t participate in this and for once my innate nosiness didn’t rear its head.

I’d learned my lesson. Gabe and Zane said they had the situation under control.

I believed them. I also believed that if they wanted or needed my opinion they’d ask, if they didn’t I was not getting involved.

Besides, I had other things to worry about, like my parents taking up residence in Gabe’s home.

Holy sweet mother of all things holy.

Gabe’s house wasn’t amazing it was ah-maze-ing .

Floor-to-ceiling windows in the great room gave an unobstructed view of the river and dock.

A kitchen that was not a chef’s dream—it was simply a dream.

The entire house was straight out of Architectural Digest .

It was splendid but somehow still felt cozy.

It was very obviously decorated by a designer and bent toward masculine but not bachelor.

I loved it. It was great, beautiful really, but something felt off.

That was, until Gabe finished the tour I’d begged him not to take me on—but he wouldn’t hear of sitting on the couch and not showing me around.

He’d walked me around the first floor—great room, formal living and dining, kitchen, and study.

Then the second floor—loft and three bedrooms. Then up to the third floor and that was when I understood the appeal.

The master suite encompassed the entire top level. In all of the conversations I had with my mom regarding the house, she failed to mention this and I was glad she did. I was not prepared for what I saw, therefore my reaction was honest when I gasped at the panoramic view .

“I could stay in this room all day and be happy,” I sighed and took in the beauty all around.

Not just the furnishings. Plain, simple, clean. White walls, white comforter, solid well-made furniture. The only color in the room was navy blue accents. I loved it. It somehow screamed Gabe. But beyond the room was the view. There was no artwork on the walls—just three walls-worth of windows.

“This room is why I bought this house.”

“I can see why.”

“Every morning I wake up with the sun pouring in and I feel free.”

I could totally understand why Gabe would feel that.

“The whole house is beautiful but I have no words for this.”

“Happy you like it.”

Gabe approached and didn’t stop until he was close. I tipped my head back and smiled.

Happy didn’t begin to cover how I felt but I was pleased he was happy.

I, on the other hand, was ecstatic to be there.

Not because it was a big, waterfront home.

Not because the furnishings were gorgeous.

My overwhelming joy came from Gabe. What was going to happen next, and the day after, and the day after that.

“Does me being here feel right?” I asked.

Gabe didn’t hesitate when he told me, “Nothing I’ve earned was enough.

No amount of money I’ve saved gave me enough security.

No place I’ve lived felt like home. Nothing has ever felt right in my life until I saw you.

Now I understand why. Nothing was right, nothing was enough, no place was home, because you were not there. ”

“I know that feeling,” I returned.

“I’m gonna marry you, Evette.” My breath caught and my toes tingled. “Then I’m gonna plant my babies in you and give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“Just you. That’s all I need.”

“Nope, you need everything.”

The time was nigh for Gabe Harris to learn the meaning of everything .

“You don’t get it, but you will. You are everything.

Just you. The way you smile at me. The way you look at me.

Sometimes with a hunger that makes me shiver.

Sometimes with a soft, sweet gaze that makes me warm.

But always like I’m precious. Everything is you making me feel safe and loved.

Everything is hearing your laugh. Everything is lying next to you in the middle of the night listening to your stories.

Everything is falling asleep cuddled close and waking up the same. ”

“Jesus,” he growled.

Not his I’m-turned-on-throw-me-on-the-bed-and-ravage-me growl but a painful one that sounded like it hurt.

“Gabe—”

“You need to stop.”

“What?”

“Two reasons.” His hand shot up and hooked me around the back of the neck and I didn’t miss his wince.

“One, you being sweet means I wanna toss you on our bed and show you how much I love you. And that is not an option for me for several reasons—one of which is that your parents are due back any moment.”

It was unfortunate he couldn’t toss me on the bed because now that he’d mentioned it in his rough, bossy tone I seriously wanted him to.

“And the second reason?”

Gabe curled his fingers and pressed deep. Which gave me a shiver and a tingle, this one not in my toes, but a full-body quake that my man didn’t miss. Not that he could, because I hadn’t bothered to hide that this was one of those times where he was giving me everything just by being him.

“Reason number two is you being sweet means I want to lock your parents out, kiss the fuck out of you, which I’ve yet to be able to do.

Then kiss other places on your beautiful body which would lead to you making all those sounds I fuckin’ love.

Which would mean I’d toss your ass on our bed and show you just how much I love them by making you moan some more.

And since I can’t do any of that I’d appreciate it if you’d stop being sweet. ”

Gabe’s disgruntled look made me grin, but thinking about how he’d called his bed our bed twice now made me smile huge.

“That’s one reason, just worded differently,” I pointed out .

Gabe didn’t concede.

Instead, he gave me sweet and the way he did it was far better than what I gave him.

“Welcome home, Evette.”

Oh. My. God.

“Welcome home, Gabe.”