“Because I’m supposed to be living my life, she says, not taking care of her. But she’s my mom. She and Daddy took me out of that awful orphanage, gave me a home. As if I wouldn’t be there for her now.” I scoffed at the very notion.
Gunnar studied me for an intense moment.
I dropped my gaze and tucked my hair behind my ear. “What?”
“You are so young one moment—getting drunk and making a spectacle of yourself—then the next, you’re explaining how you’ve put your life on hold for your mother.” He stared at me, and I had to drop my gaze before he peered into my soul. His eyes were so pale and yet so deep. Both secrets and hurts swam in those icy depths, and I wanted to know them all. “You, Zaila Monroe, continue to surprise me.”
I cleared my throat. “Well, you continue to confound me.” I slapped my hand over my mouth. “I need to stop talking.”
Gunnar opened the car door, but I noted the upward twist of his lips. My cheeks burned even brighter because I’d amused him. “You know,” I said as he helped me into the passenger seat, “you’re really handsome when you’re all protective and stuff.”
Gunnar paused, his face inches from mine as he leaned in to fasten my seatbelt. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me. But then he stepped back, clearing his throat. “Let’s get you home, Zaila.”
As we drove, I couldn’t stop giggling. “Did you see me singing? I was so good.”
Gunnar chuckled. “You certainly were something up there.”
“You should’ve joined me,” I said. “We could’ve done a duet.”
“I don’t think the world is ready for that,” he said, shooting me a grin. An actual grin!
Oooh, he was so attractive when he smiled, and that made me want him. The next moment, sadness overwhelmed me because I couldn’t have him. I looked out the window.
As we pulled up to my parents’ house, Gunnar helped me out of the car. I leaned against him, suddenly feeling very sleepy. “You’re a good man, Gunnar,” I mumbled. “A really nice, handsome guy.”
He sighed, his arm around my waist to keep me steady. “And you’re drunk, Zaila. Let’s get you inside.”
As we reached the door, I fumbled with my purse, searching for my keys. Once I had them, Gunnar took them from me, unlocking the door. For a moment, we faced each other, the air between us charged.
“Goodnight,” Gunnar said as he handed me back my keys. My breath caught as he skated his knuckles down my cheek. “Drink some water and get some rest.”
As he headed back down the sidewalk, I called, “Hey, Gunnar? Thanks for being my brave, shining knight tonight.”
He smiled. “Anytime, Zaila. Anytime.”
Though even now, I knew there’d better not be another time.
He chuckled. “See you Monday, rookie.”
I snorted at the nickname, mostly so I didn’t melt at the sweetness. “I’m nothing like Jeff.”
“Don’t I know it. And aren’t I glad,” Gunnar said, waving over his shoulder.
I melted. Total goo right there in the foyer.
“Zaila? Is that you?” Mom called.
Gunnar tipped his head, silently commanding me into the house.
I shut the door with a sigh. “Here, Mom.”
Gunnar Evaldson might not be for me, but that didn’t stop me from yearning.
Chapter 11
Gunnar
The staff retreat had arrived, and because I’d had two meetings early this Thursday morning about one of my other business ventures, I flew my private jet to the small airport near the retreat location. This year it was Horseshoe Bay, which sits on the Colorado River about an hour north of Austin and nearly two hours north of San Antonio. Typically I considered this annual team-building event a necessary evil at best and a complete waste of time and money at worst. This year, however, I was looking forward to these three days away from the office and the lull before the hockey season started.
