She’d built a good life, even if it was a little lonely. “Weak women get no respect.”
“I didn’t say you were weak.”
“You intimated that I was too weak to say no.”
“I intimated that you’re too nice to say no,” he said. “There’s a difference. Anyway, it sounds like you’re free tomorrow.”
“I have to work.”
“You can’t afford to give me a couple hours?”
She knew she could; she even knew she would. But he’d just accused her of being a pushover. She didn’t want to give in too easily. “Maybe.”
“Great.” His self-satisfied smile would have irritated her—except she was determined to keep her priorities straight. Seeing Gabe smile was always a good thing. How many times had she laid awake at night, hoping to see that very thing?
“Any chance you’ll bring me a piece of apple pie from the diner when you come out?” he asked.
“I said maybe I’d come,” she reiterated.
“I know you’re a tough, modern woman and everything, but something tells me ‘maybe’ with you always means ‘yes’.”
She glowered at him. “That’s it.”
“You’re not coming?”
“No pie.”
His teeth showed as his grin turned slightly wicked. “You’re drawing a hard line.”
“My guilt has its limits.”
“I’ll remember that.” They drove in silence for a few seconds, then Gabe glanced over at her again. “What do you like to eat?”
“Why?”
“Because, if you do the windows, I’ll make dinner.”
Was he serious? He’d gone out with a group and now he was inviting her to his place for dinner? Of course, she was the woman who’d put him in a wheelchair, so it was only because he wanted her to wash his windows, or because he was finally craving a little casual company. Either way, progress was progress. “I like champagne, caviar, bacon-wrapped filet mignon, garlic mashed potatoes, maybe some chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert,” she said, going all out to get back at him for seeing through her so easily.
“Champagne?” he said.
She shrugged. “If I’m asking for too much, you could always find someone else to do your windows….”
“But I’m only trying to do what’s best for you,” he said.
She couldn’t help laughing as she rolled her eyes. “Right!”
His lips tilted on one side. “Someday you’ll thank me.”
“Gabe?” Hannah said when they were almost home.
“Hmm?”
“Why aren’t you more interested in Ashleigh? Or one of her friends?”
“Who said I wasn’t interested?”
“You put on a good act back there, but I can tell it was for their benefit, not yours.”
“They’re too young for me.”
“It’s not often you hear a man say something like that,” she said wryly.
“And there wasn’t any chemistry,” he added.
“I think they felt some chemistry.”
“So did Race. He was hoping to go home with you tonight.”
This information succeeded in surprising Hannah. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Yes, he was.”
“How do you know?”
“He asked me what I thought his chances were.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“That you have two kids.”
She pretended to dust off her hands. “And that probably took care of that.”
“Actually, he said he wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship so kids didn’t matter.”
“What? How shallow can you be? See? I’m better off on my own.”
“Haven’t you ever had a one-night stand, Hannah?”
She knew she should’ve been offended by the personal nature of the question, but for some reason she wasn’t. “No.”
“Ever slept with anyone besides Russ?”
“Are you gathering this information for Race?” she countered.
“I’m curious,” he admitted.
She crossed her arms over her chest because she was suddenly feeling self-conscious again. “What do you think?”
“From what you said earlier, I’m guessing no.”
“No doubt Oakridge will be a challenge next week,” she said, making a point of changing the subject.
He laughed softly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
She wasn’t ashamed. She’d married young and given Russ everything she had, even though she’d never really loved him. But talking about such intimacies with Gabe made her feel strange, unsettled. She missed having a sex life more when she was with him than at any other time.
Of course, it could be her age, and not Gabe at all that had her in such a state, she told herself. Some people claimed a woman didn’t come into her sexual prime until she hit her thirties. Maybe she was a late bloomer, and hormones—not the man sitting next to her—were to blame for her recent awakening.
Hannah wasn’t sure she believed that but she was willing to give herself the benefit of the doubt. “Don’t you think this is a dangerous subject for a man who guards his own privacy as fiercely as you do?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Why?”
“What if I were to ask you something you’d rather not answer?”
“What do you want to know?”
She’d expected to scare him off, not have him challenge her in turn.
Clearing her throat, she looked away. She wanted to know the obvious—could he still make love? But she couldn’t bring herself to ask. She was too afraid the answer would be no. She didn’t want to risk humiliating him. And she didn’t want to have to assume responsibility for causing him that loss as well as all the others. “Never mind.”
“Hannah?”
She looked at him again. “What?”
“The important parts still work.”
This was good news indeed. At least she hadn’t robbed him of that.
She smiled. “I’m so glad.”
His eyebrows lifted at her enthusiasm. “So am I.”
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Hannah hummed as she made breakfast. She felt more carefree than she had in a long time.
“Hi Mom!” Brent burst into the house with his usual exuberance.
She tucked her sleep-tousled hair behind her ears and set aside the spatula she was using to turn the eggs. “Hi, baby,” she said, giving him a hug. “Is Patti still here? Do you want to see if she’d like to come in for breakfast?”