I pointed down the hall to the bedroom.
One moment I was pointing to the bedroom, the next, I followed Gabe as he charged down the hallway to said bedroom.
“This it?” He pointed at the mess on the floor.
I nodded and watched as he got down on the floor. He looked over the directions and began fiddling with the equipment, unplugging one of the cables before screwing it in somewhere else.
I stood there and watched as he read the instructions word for word and pieced it all together. Not one complaint fell from his lips, not a grumble was made if something didn’t work right. He simply would unplug it, re-read the directions, and work out whatever the issue was before moving on to the next part of the puzzle.
Not even twenty minutes later, he’d completely assembled my production set. It was on the floor, but at least it was all put together.
“Want to give it a try?” He gestured toward the set as he rose from the floor.
It looked intimidating. As much as I longed to play with the keys on the keyboard or sing into the microphone, I just stood there. The weight of my fears kept me where I was.
“We should probably eat,” I said and backed away. “The food is getting cold.” I spun on my heels and headed toward the kitchen.
Seconds later, Gabriel’s heavy footsteps sounded as he entered the kitchen. I lifted up on my tiptoes to grab a plate, and my hand was shaking so much that I nearly dropped it. From his position right behind me, Gabe reached up, steadying me.
Slowly he guided my hand down to the counter until I released the plate.
“What’s the matter?” he asked as he leaned into my body.
Squeezing my eyes tightly closed, I inhaled deeply. The smell of his spicy cologne and his energy wrapped around me at the same time his arms did. He pulled me back against his chest.
“I haven’t eaten since lunch,” I said. “That’s all.” My voice was shaky, but I hoped he mistook the reasoning for his closeness.
“Do you always lie when you’re hungry?” he asked. “Or is it just to me?”
“I’m not.”
“You are. I can feel it in my gut.”
I pulled back and managed a smirk. “Maybe that’s your hunger.”
His eyebrow quirked.
“You’re going to need a desk for that equipment.” He motioned toward the hallway where my now makeshift studio was.
“I ordered a new one this afternoon.”
“Good.” He dropped his hands from my waist and took one of my hands in his. He brought my hand to his lips, kissing all four of my knuckles.
My insides quivered, and I sagged against the counter. That was the first time his lips made contact with any part of my body, and I craved more of it.
He lowered our still clasped hands and dipped his head so that he hovered just above mine. I held my breath waiting for the kiss. Everything I told Jodi earlier about not doing anything intimate with Gabriel Townsend flew out the window.
“You need to eat,” he said before stepping back, releasing my hand.
For the fiftieth time that day, I almost cried.
But he was right.
I needed food. We likely both did, and I needed to remember why not becoming intimate with this man, in particular, was high on my to-do list.
“You chose Chinese,” I said when I opened the bag. “It’s my favorite.”
“Good,” he said. “It’s not like you responded to my text message. So I had to decide by myself.”
