“Yeah, I shut that shit down in front of Gabby.”
“She pissed?”
“Nah, I don’t think so.” I plop down at my desk and fire up my laptop to go over the numbers with Harrison.
“Gwen told her to give you a chance,” Harrison speaks up.
“What?”
He nods. “She told me last night. She told Gabby that the two of you would be good together. I agree with her.”
“She’s fighting it.” That’s the thing about best friends; I didn’t even have to tell him that I wanted her. He just knows. I could have denied it, but what’s the use?
“Don’t let her.”
“I don’t plan on it.” I run my fingers through my hair. “Thanks, man, tell Gwen I appreciate her support.” Knowing that Harrison and Gwen are behind us, only adds fuel to my mission to pursue her. Gabby’s worried things will change, and they will. For the better.
“You’re family, and she wants to see you both happy. Hell, this angry foreplay thing you all have going on has been fun to watch. I’m surprised it’s taken this long.”
“I knew she wasn’t ready. Hell, she still might not be, but fuck if I can wait any longer without her knowing.” As far as the angry foreplay, he’s right. I love pissing her off, seeing that fire in her eyes. She’s fucking breathtaking, and it gave me her attention without her ever knowing I wanted more. Was it childish? Sure. Do I regret it? Never. I got to know her, the real her. Not some painted-on version she wanted me to see. The real Gabby. The one I fell hard and fast for.
“You’re doing the right thing. I wish I would have fought harder,” he says. I can see the sadness in his eyes as he thinks about his wife, the divorce, and how they found their way back to each other.
“Yeah,” I agree. I don’t tell him that watching what he and Gwen went through is a big part of why I decided to tell her how I feel. I watched him divorce the love of his life, and wallow in a field of regrets. They fought their way back to each other, and I couldn’t be happier for them.
I don’t want any regrets when it comes to me and Gabby. I know what I want, and I’m willing to put in the effort. I’m willing to fight for her.
I’m going to fight for her.Chapter SevenGabby 7* * *“Let’s go,” Chase says as I come downstairs to find something to eat.
I still haven’t made it to the store, but not for a lack of trying. Chase insists I eat the food he already has in the fridge and freezer. Plus, there’s the fact that the man cooks almost every night. Well, except for Tuesday because he didn’t get home until late from training a client in Lakeview.
“Where are we going?” I ask, rounding the corner and finding him dressed in running shoes and carrying a backpack.
“It’s a surprise,” he replies with that trademark smirk I secretly love but pretend to hate.
“I’m not sure I like your surprises,” I mumble before heading off to the laundry room to retrieve my running shoes. If Chase is wearing them, I better put them on too. There’s no telling what he’s up to, and it’ll probably be best I don’t show up in ballet flats and a skirt.
“Chop-chop, Gabrielle. The sunset waits for no one,” he whispers against my ear. I startle, not even realizing he followed me into the room, let alone got close enough to practically press his front to my back. A shiver sweeps through my body at visions of Chase pressing his hard body against me… naked.
Exhaling loudly, I slip on my shoes, making sure they’re laced tightly, and follow him out the garage door. Chase tosses the backpack into the back seat of his truck and meets me around at the passenger side. Before I can even open the door for myself, he’s there, holding it open and placing his hands at my waist.
“I can do it myself,” I retort with only a tiny bit of venom behind it.
Chase just grins that lopsided smile and says, “I know. But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to put my hands on you.”
As he helps me into my seat, he places a loud kiss on my cheek. “Thank you.” I’m blushing, I know it.
“You’re most welcome. Now, let’s go, woman!” he barks as he shuts my door and heads toward the driver’s side, a smile on his lips the entire way.
When he gets in the truck, he carefully backs it out and turns right, heading out of the cul-de-sac. I watch as the landscape changes from small-town city streets to open fields and ditches. “You’re seriously not going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask.