Even through I’m covered in a layer of sand and dirt, I drop onto the couch, flopping onto my back.
“Holy crap. I couldn’t carry one more bag if I tried,” I moan. “I don’t know how you carried so many. You carried four times as many as I did, and you’re not bothered at all.”
“That’s because I’m a badass,” Gabriel says lightly, picking up one of my arms and rubbing at it. “You really are shaking.”
“I knoooowww,” I groan. “Carrying one bag is fine. Carrying a hundred starts to get to a person.”
Gabriel shakes his head a little, but doesn’t stop rubbing my arm. The warmth of his hand feels good against my skin. I flip onto my side, looking him in the eye.
“Do you think it’ll keep the water out?” Even as I ask, I’m not sure that I care. If this house is destroyed by water damage, I’ll get a brand-new one with the insurance money. One that doesn’t carry bad memories in it.
Gabriel nods. “It should. Temporarily, I mean. I can’t imagine the water will stay up very long.”
“OK,” I murmur. As long as we don’t have to worry about the house being flooded while we’re in it, I’m good. And with Gabe’s hands on me, I’m really good.
“Thank you for helping me,” I tell him quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He lifts a dark eyebrow. “And how would you have carried all of those bags by yourself? You’ve got spaghetti arms.”
I sputter and he laughs.
“You’re welcome,” he continues, ignoring my indignation. “It wasn’t a problem.”
“My own personal hero,” I declare, smiling into his eyes. His expression turns a little cloudy, but he doesn’t say anything.
He simply says, “It’s what I do.”
Once again I find myself thinking about Gabe in combat gear, dusty and hot, running with a rifle to rescue someone. But that’s where my daydream ends, because I don’t know exactly what he did as a Ranger.
So I ask.
Gabe tenses, then relaxes, almost like he’s forcing himself to.
“A little of everything,” he tells me. “We did some search and rescue, some recon, some surveillance. Our team was a specialized unit. But unfortunately, most of what we did was classified. I can’t talk about it. It drives Jacey crazy.”
“I bet,” I smile, thinking of Jacey’s inquisitive nature. “I’m sure it kills her. Speaking of her, is everything all right over there? Is the water near your grandparents’ house? We were so busy with my house that I forgot to ask you about yours.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. No water. They’re fine. Brand’s going to stay with Jacey until I get there just to make sure Jared doesn’t try anything. I think he’s probably done harassing her now, but you never know.”
I remember Jared’s terrified expression at the gas station a few days earlier. “I think he’s probably intimidated now,” I agree. “But like you said, you never know. He’s a dumbass. And if Brand doesn’t mind being there, it’s probably a good idea.”
“Brand doesn’t mind.”
“Well, good.” I get off the couch and stare down at Gabe. “I’m covered in sand. I’m going to take a quick shower. Help yourself to anything you need; just make yourself at home.”
“If you play your cards right, I’ll give you a massage when you get out,” Gabriel offers. “You got a big workout carrying those bags. We should probably rub the lactic acid out of your muscles so you don’t get sore.”
“Wow, that sounds so… clinical,” I laugh. “But hey, it’s a massage, so I’ll take it.”
I walk down the hall and I can feel his stormy gaze watching me as I go. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but it seems as dark as he is.
* * *
Gabriel
What the fuck am I doing?
Obviously I can’t help being here, but why the fuck am I acting like a domesticated pussy-whipped idiot? Jesus. I’m not pussy-whipped.
Madison is pussy. Pure and simple.
She doesn’t mean anything to me.
I don’t care how many times her eyes turn soft when she looks at me, when they’re normally jaded and worldly. I don’t care how many times she calls me her own personal hero. I don’t care that she’s damaged on the inside, in a way that reminds me of Jacey—and of the damage that my father did to her. But Madison’s damage is far, far worse than Jacey’s.
And it’s not my job to fix her.
I can’t even fix myself.
I go through two cups of coffee while I wait for her on the sofa, as her “quick” shower turns into half an hour. But when she comes out dressed only in a T-shirt and panties, I’m wide awake without the aid of caffeine. I can see the outline of her perky nipples through her shirt and all my previous arguments about how little she means to me go out the window.
Especially when she looks at me with those soft eyes. Eyes that aren’t soft for many people. It clenches my stomach into a fucking knot.
You can’t trust me. But obviously I can’t say that.
“Hey,” I say instead. “Feel better?”
She nods. “Yeah. I stood under the hot water for a while. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
“It’s OK,” I tell her. “Seeing your nipples was worth the wait.”
She smiles, her cheeks flushing. “Where do you want me?”
“Under me on the bed.”