Finding Isadora(41)

Grace had started to slice zucchini and green pepper. “She’s playing with a little girl who lives on the ground floor. Ming-Na’s mom took them both over to the community center for a Tai Chi class.”

“Have you told Gabriel?”

“About Tai Chi?”

“Grace!”

Her knife stilled and she glanced at me, her eyes twinkling. “No, we haven’t told him about Alyssa.”

“He has to know.”

“We’ll see where the conversation goes over lunch.” She reached out and gripped my chin firmly. “Don’t you spill the beans. This is our business.”

“Fine.” Annoyed, I stalked out of the kitchen.

And straight into Gabriel. Our bodies touched for the briefest moment before we both leaped backwards, but the contact shot a bolt of heat through me.

We stared at each other. His hair was unbound and slightly damp, moisture from the ends darkening the faded gray Sierra Club T-shirt he wore with jeans. The plainest of clothes, but as usual he looked thoroughly masculine and sexy. “Isadora,” he said flatly. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Me either. I mean, you.” I took a breath and tried again, parroting his words. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Grace hurried out of the kitchen. “Gabriel, it’s good to see you.” She hugged him as warmly as she’d hugged me.

He hugged her back, seeming to feel none of the awkwardness that characterized our own relationship. When had the two of them progressed to hugging? And had they progressed beyond it to something more intimate? I darted a glance at Jimmy Lee but he was smiling benignly. Not that he’d be likely to care if his common-law wife and his lawyer got it on. I would never, ever, understand my parents’ lack of possessiveness or jealousy.

Pogo trotted out from the kitchen and scampered over to sit at Gabriel’s feet, his head tilted inquiringly to one side. Gabriel bent down. “And who’s this? I didn’t meet you the other night.”

“Pogo. He’s with me.”

My dog sniffed Gabriel’s hand, gave it a lick, then bounced up onto all three feet, his tail wagging furiously.

“Pogo?” Gabriel echoed, squatting to stroke his back. “Making one leg do for two?”

“That’s the idea.”

Grace and Jimmy Lee had gone to the kitchen to make the final lunch preparations. I said to Gabriel, “You like animals?”

“Sure. What’s not to like?”

“Richard never had a pet when he was growing up.”

His hand stilled on Pogo’s back. “Had a gerbil once,” he said, a faraway expression in his eyes.

I frowned. Richard had never mentioned that.

A moment later Gabriel shook his head, gave Pogo another quick stroke, then rose to his feet. “But Diane’s allergic to cats and dogs.” Slanting me a sideways look, he said wryly, “Can’t blame that one on me.”

Richard hadn’t mentioned his mother’s allergies either. “No,” I murmured. In Richard’s stories, his mother was always the good parent and Gabriel the rotten one.

Suddenly it hit me. Tomorrow, Richard would likely call Gabriel and drop his bombshell. A wave of dizziness swept over me.

“Isadora?” He gripped my shoulders. “Are you all right? You look like you saw a ghost.”

I raised a shaking hand to my face. “I, uh, I’m fine. I guess someone walked over my grave.”

Here we were, talking in trite phrases, when Gabriel’s life was about to … what? Be turned on its head? Or was Richard right, and Gabriel wouldn’t care if Richard wasn’t his son?

I gazed into his face, saw the concern in his eyes, saw the moment it turned to something else. I became utterly aware of his hands, warm and firm on my shoulders, overlapping the thin cotton of my sleeveless top and touching my bare skin. Knowing I should move didn’t make it happen. My feet were locked in place.

Apparently, Gabriel’s were too, despite the fact Pogo was dancing around, giving attention-seeking whuffles and whines.

If he’d been any other man, I would have thought he intended to kiss me. If he was any other man, I’d have wanted him to.

No! No, of course I wouldn’t. I jumped backward and his hands dropped away. “I’m fine. Honestly.”

“Good.” He bent to Pogo again, and I couldn’t see his face, just glossy strands of black hair. Did that hair feel as soft as it looked?

I took a long, steadying breath, then went to greet the cats and apologize to them for Pogo’s presence. Soothing their anxiety settled my own nerves. So what if I had a physical reaction to Gabriel? No big deal; it was chemistry, plain and simple. Nothing would ever come of it.

When we all settled at the table, I even managed to look at him and ask, “What’s happening with Jimmy Lee’s case?”

“The cops and Crown Counsel seem convinced he’s guilty, and I’m operating on the assumption someone’s trying to frame him.” He turned to my dad. “Come up with any names for me to investigate?”

“Fuck, man, you’re on the wrong track. No-one would do that.”

“Jimmy Lee,” Grace said impatiently, “you’re being naive.”

“I like to think the best of people.”