Page 64 of House of Scarlett
Gabriel’s head jerks back. He stares at me like he’s still processing what I just said, so I barrel forward, spilling out the information.
“It’s in a couple of weeks. It’s hosted by this woman named Meryl Fosse. I’ve been trying to get her as a client for Curated because she needs what I can offer, but she thinks I’m fake and she only does real. It eats at me because I’m terrified there’s some truth to her opinion, so I need to prove her wrong.”
Those vivid sapphire eyes turn to flashing thunderclouds. “You can’t let her have that power over you. You don’t need to prove shit to anyone.”
In theory, he’s right, but Meryl’s words cut deep and revealed one of my biggest insecurities—does what I’m doing even matter?
“I know, but I still want to go. I want her to see that with you, I’m as real as it gets.”
“I don’t like her.” Gabriel practically growls the words, which make me chuckle.
“Thank you for being Team Scarlett, but ... does that mean you don’t want to go?”
He’s silent for almost a minute. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t have the best reputation, and I sure as hell don’t want to tarnish yours.”
My heart hurts for the young boy whose mother didn’t care about him the way she should have. If he’d had a mother like mine, he wouldn’t wonder if a woman would be proud to stand next to him in public.
“When I said I wanted to make this real, I meant it. You and me. Out in the open. In front of God and all of Manhattan.”
Gabriel takes a long, slow breath and releases it. “Okay. We’ll do it, but if that bitch says one more fucked-up thing to you, I’m taking you the hell out of there.”
A smile stretches my cheeks so wide that they almost hurt. “Deal. Now, let’s color some awesome ladybugs.”
Thirty-Eight
Scarlett
By the timeSaturday afternoon rolls around, I’m tired of being cooped up in my apartment. Gabriel watches me with an eyebrow raised.
“You’re going to reorganize your nightstand again, aren’t you?”
I glance over to the left at the ruthlessly organized side table and back to him. “I’ve got cabin fever. Time for a jail break.”
“And where exactly are we going?”
I love how he sayswelike it’s a foregone conclusion that he’s coming with me.
Rain beats against the windows, so going outside doesn’t appeal. “How about downstairs? They should’ve finished switching over a few rooms, and I always do a walk-through.”
“Twenty bucks says you can’t do it without reorganizing something.” He says it with one of those almost-smiles that tugs at the corner of his mouth. I can’t get enough of them.
I shoot him a wink. “That’s literally my job, and I’m damn good at it.”
“I think that’s pretty obvious. And I wasn’t making fun of your ... quirk. It’s cute as fuck. I can’t imagine what you’d make of my place. You’d never leave because you’d be so busy moving everything around. Then again, I don’t have much in the way of knickknacks.”
All he’s told me about his place is that it’s in Jersey and nothing special, but I desperately want to see it. I want to understand more about this man who has spent so much of his time with me while I’ve been recovering.
“I wouldn’t touch a thing ... unless you asked me to.” I make the promise solemnly, but the half smile almost makes it to a full smile, and it’s hard not to cheer silently. In the last few days, I’ve gotten them out of him more and more often, and every single one is a genuine reward.
I want to kiss him while he’s smiling.
I slide out of my bed, and his gaze follows me every step to the closet.
After seeing him take care of business in the shower, I haven’t been able to get the mental image out of my brain.I want him.I swear, I’ve spent half of my recovery trying to figure out how to get enough alone time to relieve all the urges I suddenly have—and failed, because I’m never alone.
I’m ready to shred the doctor’s orders and climb him where he stands. But the nagging twinge in my belly when I pull off my robe tells me that while most of me might be willing, another day—or hell, another few hours—worth of waiting would be wise.
I’ve never wanted to ignore my better judgment more.
