Most of All You: A Love Story(43)

“Yes. It looks so charming. I know this is a work trip, but I have to admit, I’m looking forward to the time away in Morlea—it really seems like a beautiful little town.”

I ran my fingers through my hair, walking to stand at the open garage door, staring out at the trees and the road. “It definitely is. The whole area is beautiful. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

“Me too, Gabriel. Thanks again for making time for this. I’m so appreciative.”

“Of course. Is there anything you need me to prepare—”

“Nope. All I need is you.” She laughed softly. “You know what I mean.”

I smiled. “I should be able to manage that. Should we come up with a schedule?”

“Yeah, actually, that’s why I’m calling. My availability is wide open so if you can e-mail me the times that are best for you, that’d be great.”

“Okay, I can do that. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m sort of caring for a friend at my home, and it’s a little hard for her to get around right now. Would you be okay with meeting here at my house?”

“Oh, of course, that’s perfectly fine. Honestly, I’m okay with wherever you feel the most comfortable. And I’d … love to see your home.”

“Thanks, Chloe. Okay, I’ll e-mail you the times that work best for me starting Monday.”

“Awesome. I’ll see you then. Thanks again, Gabriel.”

We said our goodbyes and I hit the end button, continuing to stare out at the trees for a few more minutes, thinking about Chloe and how much things had changed since I’d agreed to be interviewed by her.

Chloe.

Ellie.

In a way, both of them were responsible for the changes beginning inside me. Chloe was the reason I’d allowed myself to dream of possibilities in the first place, of love, of a family like the one I’d had once. I’d had no idea if Chloe was a woman I’d fall in love with once I met her, or if she would be attracted to me. But I had wanted to show up for the situation with her as a whole man, not some scared rabbit that jumped every time someone got in my personal space. And so I’d ended up at the Platinum Pearl. I’d ended up in a room with … Ellie. I let out a sigh. Wasn’t there a saying about making plans being the surest way to make God laugh?

Maybe we were all about to find out.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


Busy hands, sharp mind. Always keep your edge.

Gambit, the Duke of Thieves

ELLIE

I didn’t know why I kept giving Gabriel small pieces of myself. And I was even more confused about why he didn’t ever seem to look at me any differently. I kept trying to shock him with the reality of who I was. But he just kept coming back with that same placid look on his face, the kindness shining from his eyes as if nothing I said could shake him. What did he want with me? I wasn’t trying to pretend I was someone other than myself, like I had with other men, though they’d left all the same. No, Gabriel still cared for me day after day. Why? Why was I still here in this beautiful house, being watched over, being given rainbows, as if I were someone special?

He obviously didn’t want me for my body. I had nothing to offer in that respect—at least not right now. And he tensed each time he got near me anyway—although I couldn’t help but notice that was lessening by the day. Still, it wasn’t that. It was something else. But what? I couldn’t understand Gabriel’s motives, and I felt lost and confused, almost afraid of him. The fear went deep down into my bones, because I sensed he threatened something vital, only I didn’t know what.

I don’t create beauty, Eloise, I just reveal what’s already there.

After the day I told him about my father, I decided I wouldn’t sit with him on the patio anymore. It was too damn early to get up anyway. And yet the next morning when that golden glow lit my room, and a hundred rainbows appeared, I got out of bed. The lure was too great. I told myself it was the pull of coffee and fresh air, and the peace I felt as I watched the dawn turn into day, and yet I knew I wasn’t being completely honest with myself. The truth was, the thing that drew me to the patio was Gabriel himself. Gabriel with his handsome face, his eyes still slightly squinty from sleep, his broad shoulders, those beautiful artist’s hands, and the strong, gentle air about him.

When I opened the French doors, I expected that he’d look surprised to see me after our exchange the day before, but he didn’t. He just smiled and greeted me as he always did, and we drank our coffee together as the trees swayed in the breeze and the morning sky turned soft pink.

We spent the next few days that way, me still watching him for several hours as he worked on William, revealing the cherub’s small, sweet face feature by feature. The tap, tap, tapping of his chisel was our background music, while small tendrils of dust danced around him and disappeared into the air. I was fascinated as William emerged, almost breathless with wonder to see him take shape. “How do you know?” I asked as he worked.

“Know what?”

“What he’s supposed to look like?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I don’t. He tells me as I go.” He stopped. “Does that sound weird? What I mean is, I have a general idea of his shape and I use it as an outline, but I don’t know what his exact features will look like, for instance.” He went back to work as he spoke. “I imagine it’s similar for many artists. Writers … painters … you start out with a vague vision, and the details emerge through the process. The more you do it, the more you trust your own hands to lead you in the right direction.”