Hannah checked his expression to see if he’d just given her a line, but he seemed sincere. At least the mask she hated was gone. If Gabe was shielding himself in any way, she couldn’t feel it. He seemed vulnerable yet trusting, completely open to her for the first time. And she was going to make sure he never regretted it. This was a start for him. If things went well, there was a chance he’d take the next step and the next until he was back to his old self, socializing and dating….
The thought of him moving on to make love to someone else sent an unexpected stab of pain through Hannah, but she told herself his health and happiness was all that mattered. Gabe Holbrook was never meant to belong to her. He was like a rare, injured bird. Once she nursed him back to health, she’d have to set him free. She didn’t deserve him after what she’d done to him.
She couldn’t imagine how cold and empty her life was going to seem when he was no longer part of it. He was the sun, the warmth streaming through her blood, the air she was dragging into her lungs…
Misunderstanding her little shiver, Gabe pulled her to him, chest to chest, and she decided that had to be the best sensation of all. “You’re getting cold. Let’s go in the house.”
GABE HAD TAKEN PLENTY of painkillers right after the accident. He’d even abused them for a few months, when he realized he wasn’t going to bounce back from his injury as quickly as he’d hoped. But he’d never experienced the kind of high he felt when he made love to Hannah. Despite the potential difficulties he’d envisioned, they quickly learned what positions were easiest and most comfortable. Maybe it wasn’t quite as smooth and effortless as when he could use his legs, but he loved looking up at her as she straddled him, watching the emotion on her face.
Hannah made love with her heart more than she did her body, which changed the experience somehow, made it more meaningful. And although he couldn’t feel much of his legs, the rest of his body compensated by becoming more sensitive to the touch. He could feel every whisper of her hand, lips or tongue on his skin as if he’d taken some sort of nerve-enhancing drug.
He’d heard Viagra helped some paraplegics. His doctor had tactfully mentioned it at one of his checkups. But Gabe hadn’t been planning on making love to anyone so he’d never ordered any. Fortunately, he’d been able to do what he wanted for Hannah without it—but he was certainly glad he’d bought condoms. They’d needed only one, but their lovemaking had lasted a long time and satisfied them both.
Watching the sun go down, he ran his fingers along Hannah’s arm as she dozed contentedly next to him in bed. He hated to see the days grow shorter as fall approached. Getting around was more difficult in winter, but he enjoyed the turning of the leaves, the smells associated with the season. For some reason, autumn always evoked fresh hope that maybe, if he worked hard enough through the winter, he’d be back on his feet by spring.
Hannah shifted, bringing more of her bare back in contact with his chest. The softness of her, the promise of more companionship like he’d known today—maybe that was all he needed. Maybe it was time to be realistic about his chance of a full recovery.
You’ve been fooling yourself, a voice in his head seemed to whisper. It’s over. The chair is all you’ll know. Better find someone who can tolerate living with half a man. Someone who can deal with having everyone stare at her just because she’s at your side. Someone who can tolerate the whispers about whether or not you can get it up for her. And settle down before you have nothing….
Blocking out those insidious voices, he covered Hannah with the sheet and slid to the edge of the bed, where he’d left his chair. He’d always been praised for his athletic prowess and wasn’t sure, even at this late date, how to change his own measure of success. He couldn’t even think of getting into a relationship when he had so little of himself to give, could he?
“Gabe?” Hannah muttered sleepily as he moved toward the door.
“Go ahead and sleep,” he said. “I’m going to make dinner.”
“That was great,” she said softly.
She was talking about their lovemaking. He grinned. It had been great. As a matter of fact, this afternoon they’d created the only memory of the past three years that he wanted to carry with him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IT WAS COMPLETELY DARK when Hannah opened her eyes. For a moment, she was so disoriented she couldn’t remember where she was. She wasn’t used to waking up in strange places. Her stomach tensed with apprehension—until she turned her face into her pillow and smelled Gabe. Then she realized she was in his bed and would have smiled and stretched languidly, except that her next thought was for her boys.
What time was it? She had to get home.
Scrambling to her feet, she pulled on her underwear and shorts, but her blouse was still on the floor of the workshop. She and Gabe had been in too much of a hurry to bother picking anything up. So, unless she wanted to stride into the front of the house half-naked, she had no choice except to borrow something of his.
She found a white cotton T-shirt bearing the logo Hawaii Surf & Sun on top of his hamper and slipped it on before hurrying down the hall. “Gabe?”
“There you are.” He looked up when she entered the kitchen and smiled, and her heart skipped a beat as her mind showed her several intimate pictures of him in various stages of making love—poised above her, his gaze intense and locked on to hers, lying on his side, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes as he used his hands in the most incredible way she could imagine, laughing at her giggles when he pinned her hands above her head so she couldn’t cover up against his slow, burning perusal….
She cleared her throat because she wasn’t quite sure how familiar she should be. Should she walk over and kiss him like she wanted to, or were things back to the way they’d been before?
“Hungry?” he said, his expression turning slightly perplexed when she held back.
She could smell the food cooking, hear the sizzle of meat on the grill through the door that stood open to the back porch. Surely, if he was still cooking dinner, she couldn’t have slept too long. She hoped. “What time is it?”
“Nearly nine-thirty.”
“I’ve got to go.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Before you eat?”
“Russ might’ve dropped the boys off at home already.”
“Kenny’s sixteen. Can’t he baby-sit Brent for a little while?”