JAKE
I’m proud of you.
Sitting across from Gabi as she rubbed my hand, I racked my brain and tried to recall a time someone had said that to me.
Never,I thought with sudden realization. Nobody had ever said that to me. Not once in all my thirty-two years. And here was the woman who had my heart, saying it unabashedly, with a smile so big it touched her eyes.
Fuck me, I’m in trouble.
She released my hand to pick up her fork and continue eating. “Do you ever talk to your ex-wife, or are things totally severed?”
“I haven’t spoken to her in years. I don’t even know where she is. Last I heard, she and my best man were somewhere in Europe looking at wedding venues.”
Gabi grimaced. “I hope pigeons shit all over their ceremony.”
I laughed.
Gabi smirked and collected our empty dishes. I’d practically licked my plate clean. She insisted I stay outside and relax while she ran in and put everything in the dishwasher. I did as I was told and leaned back in my chair to admire the view around her condo complex. Other families were out on their balconies too. Kids with freshly washed hair wearing clean pajamas yawned in their parents’ laps. A couple on the opposite side of the complex made a toast and tapped their glasses of red wine together. Two floors below them, an elderly woman sat with a book and a cup of tea. She had a knitted blanket over her lap and a tiny dog sleeping at her feet.
So many different lives in one spot.
There were so many things and people to watch from up here. It was so different from my property, where no matter where you stood, you couldn’t see a single neighbor for miles. I’d wanted it that way when I was looking for a quick getaway from the high rise I shared with my ex-wife. Now I wondered if all the self-isolation had done more harm than good.
Gabi returned with the bottle of wine and refilled our glasses. She settled back into her chair, inched closer to the railing, and kicked her heels up to rest on the bar.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked.
She counted on her fingers. “Five, six months? I think. Somewhere around there.”
“Do you like it?”
She nodded. “I do. It’s a lot different from what I was used to, and significantly smaller, but I’ve made it my own and I like coming home to this after a long day. It has everything I need. It’s my little sanctuary.”
She definitely had made it her own. The patio overflowed with colorful ceramic planters filled to the brim with pink, purple, yellow, and red flowers. Candles rested on shelves pressed into the back corners of the balcony, on the patio table, and on small tables and stools tucked amongst the flower planters. She hadn’t lit any of them tonight, but I imagined once the sun went down and they were lit, this twelve-by-twelve-foot balcony was her little paradise.
Inside was just as nicely kept and homey. It wasn’t jampacked with stuff, but rather minimal, much to my surprise. She had wicker barstools tucked under the large kitchen island, a matching wicker dining table that seated four, and a low cream-colored sectional sofa that faced her fireplace. I hadn’t seen a TV when I walked through and wondered if she even owned one.
I drew my chair up beside hers to admire the view before us. “I’m glad you want to come back to work for me.”
She smiled and ran her finger along the rim of her wineglass. “I’ve missed the work, to be honest. And I missed you even more.”
“Despite how much of an asshole I was?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I was mad at you, don’t get me wrong, but I was more worried than anything else. You’re like an itch I can’t scratch, Jake Cassidy.”
“I know the feeling.”
Her eyes searched mine, and I let her gaze pull me in and hold me. Today was the first time all month that I didn’t feel like I was drowning. Looking into her eyes showed me a realm of possibilities I’d never considered before, happiness being one of them.
She licked her lips. “Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to crawl into your lap for you to make a move?”
I patted my thigh. “Come on over.”
With a coy smile, she abandoned her chair in favor of my lap. She still wore her denim shorts and the neon green bikini underneath. Her bare legs hung over my right side, and I put my hand in the small of her back to steady her while I cupped her cheek with my other hand and drew her down to me. Her kiss tasted like wine and her skin smelled like sunscreen and sand. My hand fell from her cheek to rest on her knee, but I gave in to temptation quickly and let it glide up her thigh to the hem of her shorts.
Gabi trailed kisses down my chin and jaw, working her way down my throat to the collar of my shirt while she flicked open buttons one at a time. Her deliberate slowness was enough to drive me mad. My fingers slipped up the hem of her shorts. They were short enough that I could feel the crease where her hip met her thigh. I trailed my touch along the fabric of her bikini bottoms, easing my way between her thighs.
She got my shirt open and explored my stomach and chest. Her fingers were cold, but her lips on my neck and chest were warm and soft.