Kenny sat up to get a better look. “Where?”
On top of Gabe’s hamper… “On my drive.”
“You found a shirt while you were driving?” Kenny’s expression reflected his confusion. “Was it lying on the side of the road or something?”
Or something… Hannah quickly crossed the room and snatched the shirt away. “It’s just a shirt I found, nothing to worry about. Time for bed, you two.”
“But I didn’t get my money,” Brent complained.
“I’ll get it for you.” Hannah shooed her youngest from the room and closed the door behind her—before Kenny could recognize the shirt as one Gabe might have worn to practice.
WHEN THE HOUSE FELL QUIET, Hannah headed to the kitchen for a glass of wine, where she gazed at Gabe’s Hawaii T-shirt. If not for that piece of proof, she might have convinced herself that today hadn’t been real—that it had been just another one of her Gabe Holbrook fantasies.
The memory of Gabe pulling her into his lap and kissing her deeply caused excitement to sweep through her again. She was so infatuated with him….
The phone rang. Straightening, she glanced at the clock. It was nearly midnight on a Saturday, which meant Russ was probably calling her from the Honky Tonk. Sometimes when he got drunk, he called to cuss her out for leaving him. Other times, he cried and begged her to come back to him.
Tonight she wasn’t sure she could deal with either extreme, especially because he was sure to have something to say about Gabe dropping by. But if she didn’t answer, he might drive over. Then they’d fight, possibly wake the boys and disturb the neighbors…. She definitely didn’t want that.
“Hello?”
“Did I wake you?”
It was Gabe. Relief, surprise and awareness assaulted Hannah all at once. “No, I’m not in bed yet.”
He said nothing.
Wetting her lips, she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder and instinctively tightened the drawstring on her pajama pants. “But Kenny’s asleep, if you called to talk to him.”
He chuckled softly. “No, I’ve got the right person.”
More silence.
“Gabe?”
“What?”
“Are you going to tell me why you called?”
“I need someone to come over and help me eat all these strawberries.”
Hannah pressed his T-shirt to her face as she imagined his strong arms going around her….
“Hannah?”
She lifted her head. “Sounds like an emergency.”
“It is. Can you come tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“They go bad fast.”
She could hear the teasing in his voice and laughed. “Not that fast.”
“Ask Marge over at Finley’s if you don’t believe me.”
“Finley’s is closed.”
He sighed, no doubt for her benefit. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me, then.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to drop the phone, scoop up her keys and dash off to his place. It had been three hours since she’d been with him and already she was dying to touch him again. This wasn’t good…. “I—I can’t come over.”
“Why not?” he said.
“I already told you I won’t be coming back.”
“Fortunately, you didn’t mean it.”
She shook her head at his response. “How do you know?”
“I was there, too, remember? I heard how you said my name when I slipped my—”
“Gabe!”
Another soft laugh. “Okay,” he said. “Call me when you’re ready.”
A second later, the dial tone hummed in Hannah’s ear. He’d hung up—but not before making a significant dent in her defenses. Hannah didn’t know whether to be relieved that she’d held tough or disappointed. She supposed she felt a little of both. She also suspected Gabe had only been testing her resistance, letting her know his door was still open so the temptation could continue to work on her long after he hung up.
He was so arrogant, she thought. But she was relieved to find all his former confidence hadn’t really deserted him. He was regaining his balance….
She smiled as she finished her wine. Ever since the accident, she’d been praying for Gabe to get back on his feet, figuratively if not literally. She always hoped her prayers would be answered. But she never imagined she’d have a front-row seat to his recovery.
She was just gathering his shirt when the doorbell sounded.
“Not now,” she muttered.
Dropping Gabe’s shirt on the table, she padded through the living room and checked the peephole to find Russ on her porch. Summoning patience, she opened the door. “Did you forget something, Russ?”
He ignored the question and stabbed a finger at the chair Gabe had made. “What the hell’s up with that?”
“What?”
“You know what! And where did those damn flowers come from?”
Flowers? Hannah leaned outside to see a small, potted hydrangea bush on the other side of her door. “I don’t know,” she said. But, although she hadn’t seen Gabe bring them, she knew they’d come from him. She’d seen a pot of flowers like them at his house, on the counter.
“They have to be from Gabe, right? Why is he bringing you gifts?” Russ asked.
“They’re not gifts. I mean, the chair’s not a gift. I—I don’t know about the flowers.”
“They’re from him. I know they are.”
“Russ, do me a favor and go home, okay?” she said.
“We might be divorced, Hannah, but you’re still the mother of my children. I have a right to know what’s going on.”
“No, you don’t. You have no right to come knocking on my door in the middle of the night.”
He scowled and shifted on his feet. “Your lights were on already. Don’t pretend I’m making trouble.”
“The lights were about to go off. I’m tired, and you are making trouble. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
He put a hand on the door to stop her from closing it. “You’re not seeing him, are you, Hannah? I mean, not Gabe. Anyone but Gabe, okay? Will you promise me that much?”
Hannah knew Russ would have a problem with her seeing anyone. He was as possessive now as he’d been six years ago. “I won’t promise you anything.”
“He might be rich and famous, but he’s crippled. You don’t want to take care of a cripple for the rest of your life, do you?”