Return of the Bad Girl Page 20

  He sighed and leaned back against the counter, bringing her with him and cradling her against his body. “After the accident, my mother sued the hospital for malpractice when they missed a brain bleed on Honey’s scans. She was awarded millions, and she was supposed to use it for Honey’s medical expenses.”

  “But she didn’t.” It wasn’t a question, and he gave her a sad smile.

  “No, she didn’t. She stuck Honey in a state hospital and blew through the money like crazy. By the time I got out and found out what was going on, maybe a couple hundred thousand were left.”

  “Oh my God.”

  It was exactly what he’d thought when he’d found out what his mother had done, but had he been surprised? Not really. His mother was who she was, and it had never done him any good to expect more from her than the very least she could give.

  “Yeah, never trust a gambler with a large sum of money,” Gabe said, trying—but failing—to make light of one of the most difficult points of his life. “I hired an attorney who was willing to work for a percentage and sued my mother for power of attorney for my sister’s care and her settlement. We were in the middle of court proceedings when some junkie shot her for her purse in Reno.”

  “Shut up,” Caroline said, searching his face. “Are you kidding?”

  “Nope,” he said, thinking back to that morning when the police had shown up at his apartment to give him the news. For the longest time, he’d actually been ashamed that his first reaction at their news had been relief. Relief that his mom couldn’t gamble away any more of Honey’s money and that he might have a chance to recoup some of the money his mother had lost. Of course, he’d never share that with Caroline. Some things were just better kept to oneself.

  “And she’d never changed her will from the time she had coffee cans buried in our backyard, so everything went to Honey and me. Right after the funeral, I sold everything she owned and put the money in an account for Honey’s care that gains interest. Paid off the legal fees and found her a new facility in Colorado. We lived there for eight years, but it was too expensive for me to start up a new business, and that’s what I wanted to do.”

  “So, that’s why you moved here? But why here, of all places?” she asked, playing with the fingers on his hand.

  The soft touches were innocent enough, but coming from her, his thoughts started to stray to other places her fingers could skim. “Well, ’cause I didn’t want to live in a place that got a lot of snow ever again, so Sun Valley was out, and because my best friend from high school lived here.”

  “Who is that?”

  “Chase Trepasso. He owns the tattoo shop down the street,” he said, reaching up to trail his thumb across the skin of her neck.

  He saw her lips twitch like she was fighting a smile. “Of course your best friend is a tattoo artist.”

  Reaching out to cup the back of her neck, he growled, “What’s that supposed to mean? What are you trying to say, woman?”

  “Nothing,” she said, giggling.

  “Are you trying to say that us bad-boy types stick together, huh?” he said, poking her ribs with his other hand until she was screaming.

  “No! I’m sorry! Stop!”

  Gabe brought her closer as her laughter subsided. “If I’m going to help you make this cake, I better go with you to the store. Since you lack my mad culinary skills, I can’t rely on you to get everything I need.”

  Caroline tried to hit him playfully, but he caught her hand. Dipping her, he kissed her hard and fast until she was clinging to him. When he had her right where he wanted her, he lifted her back to her feet and smacked her ass.

  “Come on, sous chef! Time’s a-wasting.”

  DESPITE GABE’S CAVEMAN-LIKE teasing, Caroline was glad he’d offered to come with her. It had only taken a few minutes to get to the store, and when they walked inside, Gabe ripped off the bottom of the list they’d made and handed it to her.

  “You go grab this, while I get everything else.”

  She glanced down at the scrap of paper. Birthday card.

  “Very funny,” she said, smacking his arm before she grabbed a cart.

  “Give me that cart, and go pick out the card. You can meet me in the cake aisle when you’re done,” he said, leaning down like he was going to kiss her. Just before their lips touched, he turned his face away and propelled the cart forward, placing both feet up on the lower bar.

  “Jerk,” she called after him, ignoring the stares from several shoppers as she headed toward the card aisle. Caroline saw the clerk at checkout stand one and was tempted to stick her tongue out at her. Every time she came in, the clerk pretended not to see Caroline standing in line unless other people started lining up behind her. She vaguely remembered the woman from high school but had no idea what she’d done to her.

  Stopping in front of the wall of cards, she started picking them up one at a time, reading the front and inside. After several duds, she found one with an old woman and a funny innuendo about gravity on the inside and picked up the envelope that went with it.

  When she spun around, she ran smack into Marcus Boatman.

  “Yikes, sorry, I didn’t know anyone was there.”

  “It’s okay, beautiful,” Marcus said, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. “What are you up to?”

  Caroline didn’t like him calling her that but let it go for now. “Just getting some stuff together for my sister’s birthday.”

  “Yeah? Ellie or Valerie?”

  “Valerie.”

  “That’s cool,” he said, cracking his knuckles, something he used to do to intimidate people or when he was nervous. “So, I guess you can’t go out to dinner or anything later, huh?”

  Seriously? He is not asking you out!

  “Um, considering your girlfriend assaulted me for bumping into you, I really don’t think a date is a good idea,” she said, grabbing a hundred-dollar gift card to iTunes too.

  “Oh, Shelby and I aren’t seeing each other anymore. What she did at Buck’s was out of line, and I’m really sorry about the whole thing.”

  Great. “That’s nice of you to say, Marcus, but I’m really not interested.”

  He seemed surprised. “Are you seeing someone?”

  “Yes, I mean, maybe,” she said, still unsure what to call her thing with Gabe. “Besides, you and I just aren’t compatible.”

  “How do you know that?” he asked, stepping into her path when she tried to leave. “You’ve never given me a chance.”

  Frustrated, she snapped, “Marcus, I’m just not interested, okay?”

  He was angry—she could tell by the clench of his jaw—but what was she supposed to say? She’d tried to be nice, and he hadn’t taken no for an answer.

  “You know what? I always thought the women of this town were just being bitches about you, but I think I was wrong,” he said, sneering at her. “You really are a teasing slut who likes attention.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you high? I have never given you any encouragement. If anything, I’ve avoided you since I got back to town. But somehow, I just keep bumping into you. Please, explain to me how I’ve led you on and teased you?”

  His mouth opened but no sound came out. People were gathering at the end of the aisle, but she ignored them as she continued. “Get this through your thick skull. I. Don’t. Want. You. Never have. The only reason I ever hooked up with you in high school was because I was drunk, and I wanted to get back at Shelby. Since then, I haven’t thought about you once.”

  Gabe appeared behind the crowd, his face a mask of concern. Smiling at him, she gave a little wave. The crowd turned around to look at him, but he ignored them, his gaze shifting between her and Marcus.

  You’ve got this.

  Staring into Marcus’s beet-red face, Caroline spoke softer. “You can call me a slut if it will make you feel better about yourself, but I never teased you. That was something you created in your own mind. If I was you, I’d crawl back to Shelby on my hands a
nd knees and beg her forgiveness. I don’t even like her, but there aren’t very many women who will put up with a stupid man like you.”

  Marcus rushed past her, but she didn’t even turn around. She just walked up to the edge of the crowd and said, “Excuse me.”

  The group parted, and even Mr. Hall stood back silently as she made her way to Gabe. She could feel the hard stares of the people around her, but she wasn’t going to turn the other cheek. Not anymore. She wasn’t going to just sit back and take their abuse. If they wanted to talk to her about the past and move on, that was one thing. But she wasn’t the same girl, and she wasn’t going to keep asking for their forgiveness.

  “You okay?” Gabe asked, taking the card from her hands. He held his arm out to her, and she snuggled into his side.

  “Yep, I’m good,” she said and took the cart.

  “I have to say, I’m usually the one who people want to start shit with,” Gabe said.

  “Welcome to my life,” Caroline whispered. “Did you get everything?”

  “I did. What do you say we get the fuck out of here and bake that cake?”

  A few horrified gasps let Caroline know that even though most of their audience had wandered away, there was still an eavesdropper or two who didn’t appreciate the F-bomb. She saw that the rude clerk and Mrs. Andrews were standing in front of the nearest checkout stand.

  Pushing the cart toward them, Caroline smiled. “We’re ready.”

  “Well, I’m going on break,” the clerk said, flipping off her light.

  “Becky, turn that light back on and check out Ms. Willis,” Mr. Hall said from behind them.

  Becky . . . Becky . . .

  Images of a punk-rock girl screaming at her in high school flashed through Caroline’s brain. She couldn’t remember what she’d done to piss off Becky, but obviously, it had been worth holding a grudge.

  Mrs. Andrews walked behind the checkout stand and addressed the blonde bag girl. “Jenny, don’t forget to bring home milk.”

  “Sure, Mom.”

  Mrs. Andrews lowered her voice but not before Caroline heard, “And do not talk to them.”

  Becky snickered, and Caroline looked right at her. “Do I know you or something?”

  Becky’s mouth dropped open, as if shocked. “You don’t remember me?” she cried.

  “Should I?”

  “You hooked up with my boyfriend, Charlie!”

  Caroline turned to Gabe and said, “I don’t remember a Charlie.”

  “That’s too bad,” Gabe said. “Charlie sounds like a swell guy.”

  Caroline smothered a laugh as she dug for her wallet. She found a couple of twenties and handed them to Becky, who counted her change in short, jerky motions. When she slammed the drawer shut and slapped the change down on the counter, Caroline shook her head.

  “I don’t remember hooking up with your boyfriend, but if I did, I’m sorry. I was kind of a mess.”

  Becky’s lip quivered like she was going to cry, the only sign that she’d heard Caroline.

  “You’re Valerie’s sister, right? Caroline?” the blonde bag girl asked as Caroline and Gabe picked up their groceries.

  “You couldn’t tell by the villagers with the pitchforks?” Caroline asked.

  Jenny laughed, and held out her hand. “I’m Jenny Andrews. Val used to be friends with my older sister.”

  Caroline remembered her older sister, but their mother was even harder to forget. It was tough to find a more judgmental, self-righteous bitch than Mrs. Marci Andrews.

  “Oh, yeah, I remember,” Caroline said.

  “Is it true you’ve been all over the world?”

  “Well, I’ve lived lots of places, but I’ve never been anywhere overseas except London,” Caroline said, giving Gabe a one-minute sign with her finger before he continued toward the door.

  “Oh, wow, what was it like?” Jenny asked, taking their empty cart back toward the front.

  “Why don’t I give you my number, and you can call me about it sometime?” Caroline said, searching her purse for a pen. “I normally wouldn’t mind hanging out, but it’s Val’s birthday, and I have to bake a cake.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. My mom always says I talk too much and that ladies should be of few words.”

  “Do not listen to your mother,” Caroline said firmly. “You are unique and fun. Don’t change for anyone. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, adults don’t know everything.”

  Jenny giggled. “No, they sure don’t.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “A man who can cook is worth his weight in gold. Or at least in chocolate.”

  —Miss Know It All

  THEY MADE IT home from the grocery store, and Gabe sent her off to feed the kittens while he got situated. When she returned fifteen minutes later, Gabe was standing by the sink, washing his hands, and she saw that he had not only cleaned up her mess but the kitchen as well.

  “Have I mentioned how much I hate doing dishes?” she asked as she kissed his back. “So thank you.”

  Before he could answer, she grabbed a doughnut out of the box they’d picked up and jumped onto the counter.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  She paused midbite and chewed slowly before answering. “I’m savoring this delicious chocolate doughnut while I watch you make my sister’s cake?”

  Taking an apple fritter from the box, he bit into it and shook his head. “No. This is not rocket science, and you are going to learn how to make a box cake if it takes us a hundred tries.”

  Grumbling, she finished her breakfast and jumped down to wash her hands. The minute they were dry, a mixing bowl and a carton of eggs were shoved in her hands.

  “Hup two, let’s get this cake made.”

  Despite her protests that she’d just ruin it, Gabe’s gruff instructions and teasing did make the process fun. While she was beating the eggs, oil, and water into the powder with the mixer, he came up behind her. Before she knew what he was about, he’d wrapped his arms around her and covered her hands with his.

  “First of all, you’re spraying batter all over the walls because the speed is too high,” he said, adjusting the mixer, “and if you do this kind of circular motion, it helps.”

  With his hands covering hers, he helped her guide the mixer in a circle, going around the base of the bowl and back into the middle. She realized that as their arms were moving, so were their bodies, and with every circle, he was rubbing against her.

  Caroline didn’t even bother hiding her grin as she felt his hard-on through the back of her yoga pants. “Ah, that really does help.”

  “See? You got this,” he said, his lips grazing her neck. He released her hands and splayed his across her stomach.

  When he grasped her right breast, kneading the flesh through her T-shirt, she bit back a moan and forgot to keep the mixer in the batter.

  “Whoa,” he said, laughing. “Maybe you can’t multitask.”

  She noticed the spots of batter on the counter and the front of her shirt, and groaned. “Does it at least look smooth?”

  “Mmm hmmm,” he said as his other hand slipped inside her yoga pants.

  For a moment, Caroline wondered what he would think about her lack of panties. Then she grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand out. “You are supposed to be helping.”

  “I am helping.”

  “No, you’re playing with me,” she said, unlocking the beaters from the base and turning in his arms with a beater in each hand. “Wanna lick the batter?”

  “Depends,” he said, running a finger along the metal and spreading the batter across her exposed chest.

  “You are such a”—Gabe bent down and dragged his tongue across her skin, the bar of his tongue ring sliding smoothly along the top of her breasts, causing her nipples to tighten and her stomach to bottom out—“perv.”

  “I’m making baking interesting,” he said, pulling her scoop neck T-shirt down, along with the cup of her bra, and dribbling
batter over her nipple.

  “You know, consuming raw eggs can cause salmonella poisoning,” she said, even as her eyes closed at his first flick on her hard peak. When his whole mouth closed over her areola and sucked, she dropped both beaters on the counter and held onto the back of his head. Releasing her breast and pulling her bra and shirt back in place, he came back up, grinning.

  “I like to live dangerously.”

  GABE RINSED OFF the beaters and put the mixer back in the cupboard as Caroline bent over to slide the cake in the oven.

  “I hope this one cooks right.”

  “I told you; you just had the rack too high,” he said, drying his hands. He was just about to take her for that shower he had been fantasizing about, when Googlie and Possum came running into the kitchen, meowing loudly.

  “I think someone is hungry again,” Caroline said, pulling formula, canned food, and bottles from the cupboard.

  “I think they’re a couple of cock-blocking fuzz butts,” Gabe grumbled.

  When Caroline laughed, his chest tightened and his stomach turned in knots. In the last twenty-four hours, he had teased and played and laughed more than he had since he was a kid. Since before the accident.

  And it was all because of this woman.

  Since you met Caroline, you’ve been spouting internal poetry. Remember, she said this wasn’t anything more than convenient.

  But as she passed by him to feed the kittens, she kissed his cheek. And actually patted the front of his jeans. “Be patient, big boy. I’ll get to you in a minute.”

  He knew she was teasing him, but damn, he hoped she wasn’t kidding.

  Caroline bent over but before he could fully admire the view, she stood back up with two frantic kittens. “Here, take one.”

  He grabbed Possum and one of the bottles, wincing as the sharp claw dug at his hand. “Chill out, buddy, it’s coming.”

  Gabe followed Caroline over to the couch and sat next to her. She let Googlie knead her chest as he sucked down his bottle.

  “When do these things stop nursing?” Gabe asked as he rubbed Possum’s tiny ears.

  “Zoe said that the mother usually weans them at six to eight weeks. I’m supposed to start them on gruel this week.”