Page 65 of House of Scarlett
Aside from brushing his lips over my temple or pressing them to my forehead, he hasn’t even kissed me.
That ends today.
I throw on some cute lounge pants, a lace-edged cami, and a nearly sheer cashmere cardigan. It’s not the sexiest outfit in my closet by a long, long stretch, but it’s by far the most fashionable thing I’ve worn since my hospital stay.
Today is the day.I’m getting some make-out action, at the very least.
When I emerge from the closet, Gabriel is there waiting for me. Approval glints in his eyes, and I have to wonder if his head is where mine’s at—getting more of each other. I’m not brave enough to say it out loud again yet, but I’m working on it.
When we reach the door in my apartment that leads to the fourth-floor office space, he pauses with his hand on the knob.
“Promise me you’re not going to attempt to lift anything heavy or overdo it.”
His concern feels good instead of stifling.
“I promise. If there’s any heavy lifting to do, I’ll make sure to call in the muscle.” I use finger guns to point at the biceps stretching the short sleeves of his black T-shirt.
His lips twitch and he opens the door, stepping aside to let me pass through first. Gabriel may not have been raised by a mother who gave a damn, but somewhere along the line, he learned his manners well.
The offices are quiet, as they usually are on Saturdays. As we make our way downstairs, there’s no noise or movement, and I peer into each room looking for employees.
“They must have gone to the storage units to get more inventory,” I murmur as we walk into the front room that houses my favorite living room setup and leads into the kitchen.
“I’m surprised you don’t have a warehouse at this point,” Gabriel replies.
“It’s on my list of things to do, but I didn’t want to split up my employees and have some isolated in a warehouse. You’re right, though—it’s time. Ryan has been working on finding us space so we can expand, because we don’t have any more room here.”
“Who’s Ryan?” Gabriel asks.
“My business advisor. His sister is my financial advisor. They’re the closest thing I have to siblings—besides Flynn—and you can definitely tell by the way we bicker sometimes.” I give him a quick rundown of how their dad worked with my mom, and we basically followed family traditions on both sides by continuing to work together. That, and they’re damn good at what they do.
“I’m glad you have them,” he says when I finish explaining our long and colorful history.
“Me too. You’ll meet them eventually. Ryan doesn’t come into the city as often as he used to because he’s got little kids, and Christine rarely leaves LA anymore. She’s become one ofthosepeople.”
He laughs, and I start doing my thing in the front room. Tweaking setups and rearranging items to better display them on the tables and shelves. When I reach for a heavy brass lamp, he’s right there, picking it up for me.
“I’m the muscle, remember?”
“Duly noted.” I point to the sideboard where I want it to go. “Muscle it over there then, He-Man.”
“That nickname isn’t going to stick either.”
Scrunching my face, I shake my head. “That’s not how nicknames work. You can’t just say it won’t stick.”
“Keep trying, ladybug.”
An hour later, I’m happy with the front room, and Gabriel points to the sofa. “Break time. I’m going to get your water and pills. You’re overdue.”
“Bossy.”
“Already told you that one was out.”
“I disagree. It’s a strong contender.”
I stick my tongue out at his back as he heads up the stairs to my apartment to retrieve my next dose of antibiotics, and I take a seat on the sofa in the front bay window. As soon as I lean my head on the edge and stare outside at the still-drizzling Manhattan day, I catch sight of a large hooded figure coming up the walk.
“Who the hell is that?” I ask the empty room.
