“Um, what are you doing?” I ask, pointing to the table to see if that’ll lighten the mood before I ask him what I really need his help with.
“I’m building you and Natasha a new kitchen table.”
“Y-you… you’re building us a table? With your bare hands?”
He nods, his eyes still narrowed in suspicion. “Yours isn’t functional. I noticed when I was over there tonight while looking at the wiring. You need something you can eat on.”
Okay, that does nothing but make me a thousand times hornier and a bit, completely unrelated, guilty.
Because he’s building us a fucking handmade table in twenty-degree weather for our new house. Yes, our table is shit. Three legs, to be frank, because the fourth is shorter than the others and causes the whole thing to wobble constantly. It’s annoying when I drink my coffee and scarf down my oatmeal in the mornings, but I make it work.
Memphis saw it when he helped me clear out the old furniture. Natasha said even her billionaire brother Roman noticed it when they did a walk through together. And neither of them did something about it.
But here's Gabriel taking care of it, without anyone asking him to, all because he saw a need.
I shift on my heels, smiling despite the sudden thickness in the air. “That’s really nice of you. Thank you for doing that for us. It’s beautiful.”
He gives a small nod. “Glad you like it. It’ll be ready when it’s safe for you to move back in your home.”
I hesitate because how do I move into my next question without seeming like a totally ungrateful, jerk. He knows I’m about to go on a date, so the hard part is out of the way now. I think.
“So, um, I was wondering if you could help me finish zipping the dress? I can’t…” I twist around to show him. “I can’t reach it.”
That... wasn’t very smooth.
I spin around completely, exposing my back to him, hoping he’ll just zip it up quickly so we can all move past this moment and onto our separate nights. Maybe he has a date tonight too. He should. A guy who builds tables with lumber they have lying around and uses table saws while shirtlessshouldbe the one person who has a date on the most romantic night of the year.
I just need to stop thinking about the fact that he isbuilding me a whole damn table.No man has ever built me anything before. Not even an attempt at a birdhouse or a picture frame. And I am realizing that I like it. A lot.
I want to know what else he can build. Do you think he can build a house without any blueprint? Probably. He’s doing remodeling with his cousin in New York. It’s not that much of a stretch.
I look around his yard. It’s cold, and almost everything is grey or brown, dead until the spring. But then I notice the dock that stretches down to the lake that Brookhaven surrounds and the wood planks look pristine. I wonder if he built that with his bare hands.
Oh God, stop thinking about Gabriel shirtless building shit!
He doesn’t move.
He doesn’t zip.
He just stands there silently behind me. Waiting.
I turn slowly, our gazes connecting again. His expression is dark and unreadable.
“Let me make sure I understand.”
Oh… oh no. He doesn’t look like he wants to understand at all.
He continues, “You want me to zip you up,” he says, voice a little rougher now, “so that you can wear that hot, fucking dress... so you can go on a date… with another man… who’s going to stare at your tits… and wonder how your pussy feels… then come back… to my house… and sleep just a few doors down from me?”
I blink. He’s serious. “Okay, well, when you put it that way, it might sound a little strange, but I had this date planned before I moved in with you. I planned it last night, with Natasha. You know, trying to put myself back out there and all since...”
Since you fucked me and showed me how good it could feel to be with a man who takes care of my needs.
Since you showed me that not all men are only out to hurt me.
Since you gave me hope that I might be able to find love again someday.
Since you gave me the courage to start over and be vulnerable.
