Most of All You: A Love Story(6)

“What were you thinking when you looked at me from the stage? When our eyes met.”

I frowned slightly, about to deny I’d been thinking anything at all but deciding it didn’t matter at that point. I’d never see him again. “I was thinking you didn’t belong here.” And I’d been right.

He paused, his expression enigmatic as his eyes moved over my face. “Huh. Funny,” he finally murmured. “I was thinking the very same thing about you.”

I laughed, a short huff of sound. “Well, you were wrong there. This is the one place I do belong, sugar.”

“Gabriel.” His lips tipped up slightly, his eyes lingering on me for a heartbeat too long, before he turned and walked away.





CHAPTER TWO


Focus on the good things, even when they’re simple. Then bury them deep so only you know where they are.

Shadow, the Baron of Wishbone

GABRIEL

I’d fucked that up royally. You can help me practice being touched by a woman. For the love of Christ. No wonder she’d told me to leave. I’d sounded like some sort of psychopath. I shifted into park, turned my truck off, and waited in my driveway for a minute. What the hell had I been thinking? Not only had I messed things up, and presented myself as completely pathetic, I’d insulted her.

Crystal.

What was her real name? I wondered who she was, wondered why my heart had begun to beat insistently against my chest—as if trying to get my attention—when she’d stepped onto that stage, that distant, removed look on her beautiful face. As if she were made of stone. And yet her body moved so fluidly, so gracefully. She fascinated me. I hadn’t gone there for anything more than to find a woman who might be willing to take on a small side job far less “hands on”—so to speak—than what was procured in the back rooms of a place like the Platinum Pearl. But she had intrigued me, caught my attention, and hadn’t let go. Something about her … called to me. Something that had nothing at all to do with her skimpy outfit or overt sexuality. Something that had nothing to do with the reason I was there in the first place. I let out a small, humorless chuckle that turned into a groan as I raked my hands through my hair.

I couldn’t deny I was attracted to her, but even I wasn’t stupid or inexperienced enough to think developing a crush on a stripper would be a good idea.

In retrospect, it had been a bad plan from the start. And I realized that the moment I’d voiced my reason for being there to her and watched the expression on her face change from wary to surprised to … hurt. Yes, it was hurt that flashed across her features before her face had gone hard again. If eyes were windows to the soul, I’d witnessed the closed sign being flipped over within the speed of a single blink. How long had it taken her to master that?

I’d told her she wouldn’t have to take her clothes off, as if she should be thankful for the opportunity not to be demoralized. And yet, isn’t that really what my whole plan did? Use her? I hadn’t thought much of the nameless her when I’d come up with the idea—I’d only thought of myself. God, I’d acted like an asshole. It was a terrible idea. An embarrassing idea. Made even worse by the fact that she’d recalled my story, probably remembered my full name.

I hadn’t anticipated that. Most people who hadn’t seen me somewhat regularly in the past twelve years didn’t recognize me. I’d stayed out of the spotlight, hadn’t granted any interviews, had grown up. I hadn’t worried too much about people in a town miles and miles away—that I hadn’t visited since I was a kid—knowing who I was. But she had. I wondered if it was part of the reason she’d rejected my request …

I shook my head in an attempt to shake myself free of my own thoughts and got out of my truck, closing the door as quietly as possible. I stood for a moment under the pale moonlight, inhaling a slow breath and closing my eyes as I blew it out. My night had crashed and burned in one regard, but I took a moment to soak in the thankfulness I felt for the sweet freshness of the night air, the breath filling my lungs, and the wide-open expanse all around me.

My house was dark except for the shifting glow of the TV in the living room. No doubt my brother was passed out in the recliner, as he was most nights. I’d move past him into the hallway, and he’d never even know how late I’d been out. I didn’t feel like answering any questions. Especially not tonight.

“Where’ve you been?”

I huffed out a surprised breath, dropping my keys in the basket by the door. “Just having a few drinks in town.”

“In town?” He looked surprised. And why wouldn’t he? He knew I avoided town.

“Havenfield.”

Dominic took a swig from the beer in his hand and scratched his bare belly. “Ah, the town forty-five minutes away.” He paused. “I would have gone with you.”

“I felt like being alone.”

One brow rose slowly as he took another swig. “You meet up with a woman, big bro?” His voice was teasing, but also slightly hopeful, which made me feel pathetic all over again. Behind him a woman moaned loudly, and my eyes went to the porn playing on the TV. He followed my gaze and then turned back toward me, grinning.

“Can you watch that in your room?”

“Why? You weren’t home.”

“Because I sit on that furniture, too, and now I’ll be second-guessing that.”