Marquita Valentine - Not Over You

“I saw the two of you eating lunch together in the park,” Isabella said, eyes all wide and innocent. Yeah, his sister was perfectly annoying. But he loved her anyway.

“Oh no, not lunch. That means we’re exactly nothing, Bella,” Gabriel pointed out.

Judah, the newest member of their family, sat in his mother’s lap, looking a little scared and a whole lot overwhelmed. His baby brother had arrived only two months ago from Romania, his little legs bent at odd angles and his fingers permanently curved.

His mother frowned, but kept her comments to herself.

“Where are Ms. Kelly and Ms. Nancy?” he asked, referring to in-home nurses who helped take care of all the special needs children his parents had adopted or fostered.

“They deserved a day off,” his dad said as he balled up his napkin. He stood and began clearing off the table. “Like your mother does.”

“Yes, sir.” Gabriel grabbed his glass and plate.

Paul, the third oldest of the kids, copied him, and they both followed their dad into the kitchen.

John was at the sink, rinsing off his plate. Paul opened the dishwasher and unloaded the dishes. The twins ran in and out of the kitchen, bringing dirty plates and empty bowls with them. Gabriel could hear Isabella trying to coax Judah into sitting with her as Anna started demanding lap time with Gloria.

The three men worked in silence, Paul stopping every so often to rearrange the silverware drawer to his liking. Once the last dish was placed inside the dishwasher and all the clean plates were put away, they headed out to the front porch.

Gabriel and Paul sat in the porch swing, while their dad took his usual place in the rocking chair. It was still sunny outside, but pink and orange streaked the evening sky. The swing creaked as Paul moved his legs back and forth.

“Can’t say I’m happy about this turn of events,” John finally said. The urge to defend Summer was strong, but he remained silent as his dad continued, “But I trust you to do the right thing.”

Gabriel laid an arm along the back of the swing. “As in help her out, but nothing more.”

John nodded. “Your mother’s not happy with you right now.”

His parents knew of their past, so he couldn’t exactly blame them. “So this little man time out here is to voice her concerns?”

“It’s to voice our concerns. Neither of us are telling you to stay away from Summer. You’re a grown man—one who usually makes good decisions. But there’s only so much you can offer a woman like her, and your judgment seems to be skewed when it comes to Summer.”

Gabriel clenched his jaw. The place between his shoulder blades pinched together. “A woman like her?” Wasn’t his dad the man who preached unconditional love and to help out your neighbor? To not judge a person, because you don’t know what they had endured or were still enduring.

“Don’t take a phrase out of context, son,” John warned. “I’m not talking about her reputation; I’m talking about her actions. Actions that have hurt my son.”

Gabriel exhaled, letting the tightness in his shoulders ease up. This he could understand. He didn’t like it, but he could understand his parents’ need to protect him. “I appreciate your concern,” There was that word again, “but things are different. Summer’s different this time.”

The conviction in his voice surprised him. Maybe his heart knew something his brain didn’t. Usually his brain was telling him to stay the hell away from her, to not get involved beyond what she needed.

The last time Gabriel tried to get involved, Summer had burned him so badly that he still had scars. He looked down at his arm, at the scar in the shape of a thumbprint. It looked as though he had been branded. There were two more on his left bicep that resembled fingerprints.

If he had been a man who believed in the supernatural, he would have said that those were Summer’s marks on him. Marks she’d given to him while she was in labor with Ivy, as she clenched his hand and gripped his arm when another contraction had made her cry out.

Those marks, those little reminders of when he tried to be more than just a friend to her, were nothing like the one on his heart. In reality, they were nothing more than burns from welding a motorcycle frame together the morning Summer’s daughter had been born.

Funny how he hadn’t noticed, until that evening. Until he was home—alone and worried out of his mind for her. But it had been made very clear he hadn’t been needed.

“You said that before,” his dad pointed out.

Paul stopped swinging and shuffled back inside.

He glanced up at his dad and said, “This time I’m different, and I’m doing things differently, too.” This time, he would make a difference in Summer’s life.

John smiled and nodded. “Different is good.”

Summer hadn’t expected Gabriel to take so long to tell her no.

But here he was, two weeks later, walking into Carolina Dreams with a determined look on his face. Jemma Leigh had said that she’d heard Elise had broken up with him, but Summer seriously doubted that.

The bells on the door rang, and then went silent.

She backed up, against the counter, desperately wishing she had something in her hands other than Blackbeard, the fickle cat. He meowed at Gabriel before jumping out of her arms and heading to the back.

“Traitor,” she muttered.

Gabriel’s scent washed over her before he reached her, but this time it didn’t give her comfort. She knew she’d pushed him too far. She also knew she had no chance at getting Ivy back, that her hopes and dreams for a real family were about to be dashed to pieces.

“Are you really determined to go through with it?” Gabriel asked, stopping just shy of touching her. Today, he wore another button-down shirt and khaki pants. His dark hair was thick and slightly wavy… slightly tempting her to touch him.

She fisted her hands by her side. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll marry you.”

Her jaw and her body nearly dropped to the floor in shock. Then she remembered her threat. “So nice of you to be concerned about all those couples—”

“Stop it.” He shook his head. “I’ve known you for too long not to know when you’re bluffing. And that, sweetheart, was one of your biggest bluffs.”

“I-I…uh…well, I’m glad you’ve agreed to marry me. Hopefully, Elise won’t be too broken up about it.” She wanted to bang her head against the counter after she said that. Way to rub a little salt into the wound.

His eyes narrowed. “Elise won’t be broken up about it at all.”

“That’s good,” she whispered, growing more uneasy by the minute.

“But I have some conditions of my own, since I’m being so agreeable and giving up Elise.”

“That seems fair.”

“You’re darn right it does.”

Summer waited. This time, her fingers uncurled and fisted the material of her dress instead. Gabriel’s gaze dropped, and she could have sworn his expression softened.

“There won’t be a marriage in name only, and there won’t be a divorce. It’s either all or nothing.” He started ticking off a list, marking each item with a finger. “I want to date you, then get engaged, then having a wedding, a honeymoon—you did call dibs on that, after all—and then we’ll come right back to Holland Springs. You’ll move in with me, work here, or wherever else you’d like, or stay at home. Doesn’t matter—I can provide for you either way.”

“But…”

He gave her a look. “But what?”

“There’s always a ‘but’. You have to want…something else from me,” she said, her heart sinking and her legs shaking.

“Oh I do, but that has to be given—willingly.” He gently grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him. Cupping the side of her face with his free hand, he dipped his head. “I plan to be the man you’ve always wanted, your every fantasy, and every desire. I plan on meeting every need a wild child like you could have. And by God, I hope it’s a lot, because I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”

Before Summer could melt into a puddle on the floor, his mouth came over hers. Hard. Demanding. She kissed him back just as hard, just as demanding. Years of pent-up need, and want, and desire for him twined, growing stronger with each passing second.

Her butt hit the counter, and his hard chest bumped into hers. She gasped, and his tongue plunged inside her mouth.

Good God, he could kiss, was her last thought, and then all she could do was feel, and touch, and taste. Take and give. Whimper, and moan, and dig her nails into his skin.

All too soon, he pulled away, his breath coming in pants.

“Do you plan on kissing me like that very often?” she asked.

He grinned, slow, cocky, and just this side of wicked. Her eyes couldn’t help but widen. Her pulse couldn’t help mimic the speed of hummingbird wings. Her angel had never looked at her like that. Ever.

“I plan on kissing you like that, every day, for the rest of my life,” he said.

Normally, this would be the time she’d say something sarcastic, but normally, he didn’t kiss her. Normally, she didn’t feel so alive.

“Oh,” was all she could manage. Her voice was breathless. When had she ever been breathless around a man? Oh yeah, not even two minutes ago when he was kissing the daylights out of her. She placed her hand on his chest to steady herself, but all it did was throw her off balance once more.

“Summer,” Gabriel murmured, and she had to look up at him. “I’d like to take you out tonight.”

Gabriel had heard the line about drowning in someone’s eyes before. He had even thought it was pure junk science, but as Summer gazed up at him, all wide-eyed with desire and confusion, he could picture himself falling into those chocolate depths.

Under his hand, her fingers curled. “What time should I be ready?”

“How about six?” How did his voice remain so calm when, inside he was utterly devastated by her—in a completely excellent way. He had kissed her and she’d kissed him back. She hadn’t pushed him away or critiqued his technique. In fact, she looked as turned on as he felt. His entire body vibrated, pulled tight, and ready for release. For relief.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He could stay strong. He could also rethink the timeframe he’d given himself to date Summer before “officially” asking her to marry him. Honestly, he didn’t know if he could wait a day, much less a month.

But what was thirty days compared to twenty-nine years?

She nodded, licking her bottom lip. She was the difference. Summer’s lips, her hand on his chest…her body against his…that’s what made thirty more days seem like thirty million years.

“Pick me up here.”

He’d rather pick her up at her place, but he’d go along with her wishes. “We’ll grab a bite to eat, and then catch a movie, or go to Poor Boy’s so you can dance.”

Desire faded from her eyes. “Sure you want to take me there?”

He’d forgotten about the last time they been in Poor Boy’s. She’d flirted, he’d snapped, and neither had spoken to the other for two months. Not until he’d driven past her on Highway 13.

“Need a ride?” he asked, his truck keeping pace with her strides.

She tilted her nose in the air, hiked up her purse on her shoulder, and walked faster. “Does it look like it?” Then she stopped suddenly, bent over, and retched.

He put the truck in park, hopped out, and was by her side in an instant. Gathering her hair back, he held it while she finished. “I have some water in the truck—haven’t even twisted the cap off.”

“Isn’t that convenient?” She grimaced, and then breathed through her mouth. “Always showing up at just the right time, like my own true knight in shining armor.” Once again, she was pushing him away.

He let her hair fall, looking around at the fields that had been turned over for an early spring planting. “I’m no one’s knight,” he said and moved back to his truck. He reached inside the open window, grabbing the bottle of water and a couple of loose napkins. “I’m giving you a ride into town as an apology.”

“Fine.” Her spine straightened as if steel had been poured, and then cooled inside of it. “I need to go see Dr. Reed.”

He placed his palm over her forehead, a gesture his mother made whenever he or his brother and sisters were sick. Her skin was clammy, not feverish. A fine sheen of sweat glistened along her cheeks. “What’s wrong, Summer?”