"You think I covered for you all this time for shits and giggles?I care."
The admission hangs between us like a live wire, crackling with implications I'm not ready to examine."The hell you do.You're just here to drag me back to the altar so you can clear your family's debt.A debt that both you and I know can never be repaid."
"Maybe I am," he admits, and his honesty is somehow more devastating than any lie would have been."And maybe the pomp and circumstance of this day is pointless, but I don't want to see you hurt.And running again will have consequences, Josephine.Like I said, you're my responsibility now.My wife.And I'm not going to allow anything to happen to you on my watch."
I don't know if it's the way his voice drops when he says "my wife" or the way his eyes burn with something raw and unguarded, but for a second, I can't look away from him.There's something in his expression that makes my heart stutter, something that looks almost like...
Damn, he was always sexy, even when I was supposed to hate him.
"Give me one reason why I should trust you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Gabriel leans closer, his lips brushing against my ear so his breath sends shivers down my spine."Because I'm the only one who can keep you safe."
The weight of his words settles over me, heavy and suffocating.And for a split second, I wonder if running isn't the answer after all.Then I come to my senses and remember who I'm dealing with.
"Did you drive here?"
"Yeah, my man Franz is waiting in the truck to take us back to St.Agnes."
"I need a minute to get myself together.I'm going to use the bathroom in this café."
Gabriel studies my face for a moment, then nods."Finally, you're making some sense.I'll text Nikki and tell her to stall.What do you need, five minutes?"
"Maybe like fifteen.It's going to take me at least five minutes to figure out how to pee in this thing."
“You’re smart,” Gabriel snorts with genuine amusement."I'll give you ten."
I nod in agreement and enter the Brisson Café, breathing in the familiar scent of coffee and beignets.The place is crowded with the usual mix of tourists and locals, their voices creating a comfortable buzz of anonymity.
And just as quickly as I entered through the front door, I exit through the back door of their kitchen, slipping past the staff who are too busy with the Sunday rush to pay attention to one more person moving through their space.
There's no way in hell I'm marrying Gabriel LaRoche.
At least, not today.
Chapter3
The Pursuit
Gabriel
Istand outside Brisson Café, leaning against the hood of Franz's truck, checking my watch for the third time in two minutes.I feel like a complete idiot waiting on my bride like this, but unfortunately, this woman has always had some bizarre hold over me that makes me make the stupidest decisions when it comes to her.
I've always made stupid decisions when it comes to Josephine Fabre.
I'm giving her ten fucking minutes.Not a second more.
But even as I think it, I know it's bullshit.
I've been giving Josephine whatever she needs for years, and apparently that pattern isn't changing just because we're supposed to get married today.
Josephine—or Naomi, as she insists on being called—has been running from her life for years.That's her thing.She bolts when things get complicated, when the pressure becomes too much, when she's forced to face parts of herself she doesn't want to acknowledge.She's good at it, too; I'll give her that.But at some point, you have to stand up and face your demons instead of letting them chase you across the country.
In this life we've been born into, you can't run forever.I figured that out early, but it's just taking her a little longer to accept reality.
"Boss," Franz says from the driver's seat, rolling down the window to let some of the humid air circulate."Do you really think she's gonna come out of there?"
I clench my jaw, running a hand through my already-mussed hair.I hate that he's right, but I don't say it out loud.Franz has been with my family long enough to recognize the signs when someone is about to bolt.
