Gabriel David's White Horse (11 page)

“That’s poignant, but you still fucked up. You needed to tell her where you were off to. Maybe invite her to go away with you. Women are funny—if you leave them without word they tend to think the worst.

“Really?”

Zach shrugged. “I think so.”

Gabe scrubbed his face with one hand. “I can’t believe I’m even listening to you. What do you even know about women?”

“I make porn. I know what women like.”

“Porn is for men.”

“You’re so fucking clueless.”

“Whatever.” Gabe slammed his fist into the steering wheel. “It never occurred to me to have her at the studio. I can get neglectful in that space.”

“You don’t have to tell me, I’ve smelled you during one of your artful benders.”

“I don’t think it’s any place for a woman. I wouldn’t be able to focus on her needs. Only mine.”

“You’re wrong. A good woman can always help. Take Ironman—Pepper Potts never disturbs his genius, but she does take care of his physical needs while he labors away underground.”

“That’s a work of fiction.”

“Were you expecting me to come up with a bit of nonfiction based on my nonexistent, long-term experiences with the ladies?”

“You told her friend that we were going to work on something that could bring her back to me.”

“That’d be the grand gesture.”

God love him, Zach was the most annoying person on earth. “And what the hell would that be?”

“The pièce de résistance. You’ll have to ask her to marry you.”

“I promise I won’t peek. Can I take this tie off?” Belle asked.

“No, I made a promise and I have to keep it, so the tie stays on. Sorry.” Julie guided Belle up a set of stairs.

“It’s steep. I feel like I may fall.”

“I won’t let you.” They climbed three more steps. “Okay, stop.”

Belle heard Julie complete a funny series of knocks. A door opened and Julie pulled on Belle’s arm so that she would start walking. “Where are we?”

“Work with me. It’s almost over.” Julie placed her and said, “Stand here.”

Belle stood. In the background she heard what she thought sounded like ice knocking together, footsteps on wood floor, whispering, and the low hum of Diana Krall.

“Are we ready?” Julie asked. Belle felt Julie fiddling with the knot at the back of her head.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, I may have gotten some of your hair tied into the knot.”

“What else is new?” The tie fell away and what came into view took Belle’s breath away. Her lips parted and her body made a sound she’d never heard before. She couldn’t breathe. Standing before her was Gabriel in a tux. He was so beautiful he didn’t look real. He’d shaved and his fresh gorgeous face looked young. His eyes sparkled at her and the floor of her stomach disintegrated. The room was narrow but long, and there were at least a dozen people before her, expectantly watching. Her eyes scanned from person to person. “Cara,” she whispered as she set eyes on her daughter who had her hands laced with Max’s.

The room was old. Exposed brick comprised the walls and strands of lights hung from the ceiling. Easels were set up and canvases displayed. Her eyes took in the magic he’d created—paintings of her in the field, watching the horse running wild. She walked to get a closer look. Gabriel followed her. As she took in each painting tears tracked down her cheeks.

She turned to meet his gaze, “They’re beautiful. Congratulations.”

“You’re beautiful. And they’re yours.”

“What?”

“You inspired me to paint them, so it’s only fair.”

She wanted to celebrate his accomplishments but he’d hurt her. She was a broken woman and there was almost nothing that could repair the damage he’d done.

He grasped her hands and stood close. “I’m sorry I didn’t handle myself well when I left to finish these.” He gestured to the paintings. He nervously cleared his throat, “I uh…I didn’t know your history, but Julie filled me in.”

“My history?”

“I’ve never had a steady woman in my life so I’m going to mess up a lot, but if I had known that my disappearance was going to be a trigger for you, I never would have left like that. I wasn’t thinking. Can you forgive me?” His hand cupped her jaw and his eyes burned into hers.

No, there was hardly anything that Belle knew of that could repair her broken heart…except exactly what he was doing at this moment.

“I’m sorry Mirabelle, it kills a little piece of me every day knowing I’ve hurt you. It may help you to know that when I left to come here it was only to paint what you’d inspired inside of me. You were here in spirit. You consumed my every cell, every pore. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

She swallowed thickly, the knot in her throat burning. She wanted to reach for him, sensed he wanted that too, but how could she be sure he’d never hurt her like that again? She couldn’t. It was that simple.

His lips pressed together, and then he did that thing where his jaw locked into position.

They quietly walked from painting to painting.

“Gabriel, what are all of these people doing here?”

He smiled shyly. “I assembled all of our friends and family because I have an announcement to make.” He then pointed to a man and woman standing across the room. “That duo there is waiting to ask you if they can display your exhibit in their gallery.”

“My exhibit?”

“You are the owner of
Gabriel David’s White Horse
.”

She knew Gabriel’s work was in high demand. He was successful in the art world, but she didn’t want to release the originals to anyone. She wanted them. Forever, or at least as long as her eyes could view the beauty he’d created. One of the works was a closeup of her face. He’d painted all of her ugly flaws into the painting. Only the way he saw the scars, the birthmark, the wrinkles, and the freckles weren’t ugly. They were fascinating. Each mark offered another dimension with which to feel exactly what it was he wanted the viewer to feel. Flaws that were ugly were suddenly made beautiful when viewed from the point of view of a man in love.

In love
…he was in love with her. It was the only way to see her the way he did. Surely she was misreading the signals. She stared at the painting. No, the only explanation for taking something so flawed and seeing nothing but beauty was love.

“So I uh…have an announcement. It’s really more of a question. The announcement will come later, hopefully.”

“Oh, yeah. Belle continued to study the painting.”

His hand clasped hers and then he was kneeling before her. She leaned down, wondering what he’d dropped. “Gabriel?”

He smiled, “Mirabelle.”

Behind them the music had ceased and she glanced over her shoulder to see why. Every one of his brothers and their significant others smiled at the two of them—Gabriel on his knees and Mirabelle hunched before him. She straightened. “What’s—”

“Mirabelle Marie Presley”—her eyes flared at him—“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for all the pain I’ve caused. I swear I’m clueless.” He placed his palm over his heart. “I can promise you that I will never leave again, for as long as I’m alive, I’ll never make that mistake again. However, as Zach pointed out to me, I’m clueless.

So there will be many other mistakes, but I’ll enjoy having you straighten me out. You, not Zach. The next time inspiration hits I promise to bring you along for the ride. It can get pretty disgusting. Well, mainly me. I can get really gross.”

“Uh, Gabe.” Zach gestured for Gabriel to get on with it.

“Oh, yes. Forgive me, I’m nervous.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. “What I’m trying to do is ask you to marry me. So, will you? Marry me?”

Mirabelle had never been asked for her hand in marriage. It was a dream that she’d let go of a little bit more every day. Her knees buckled and she found herself across his lap, in his arms. She’d knocked him back. “Sorry, I’m…” finding it hard to breathe. Oh, God, she was going to pass out.

“Mirabelle, don’t go. Look at me.” She opened her eyes and searched for his moss green ones. There…he was there. “I’ll never let you go, I swear.”

“Okay,” she gasped.

“What’s that?”

“I said okay.”

“Okay yes, or okay no?”

“Okay yes, but I think I may pass out.”

“No, no. You won’t. Cara’s here. You don’t want to pass out and miss everything. Besides, you still have to speak to the gallery owners.”

Mirabelle sat up and looked around the room. Several sets of worried eyes took in their form on the floor. She raised her arms in the air, “Yes, I will marry you, Gabriel. No, you cannot have the paintings for your shop. They’re coming home with me.”

They stood as a couple and the brothers and significant others approached one by one to offer hugs and congratulate them. Champagne was passed around and the gallery owners made their exit.

“Mom!” Cara hugged Belle tightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, baby. I can’t tell you how sad I’ve been without you.”

“Make room for me.” Julie entered the fray. “Now Cara, your mother and I need you to settle something.” She passed a full flute of champagne to Belle.

“What’s that?”

“Well, we sort of had a wager and I’m willing to bet your mother broke it.”

Belle took a sip of champagne, and then said, “That’s right. The question that needs settling is if that behavior is considered reckless.”

“Mmmhmm. Because if it is, your mother has to pay up.”

“I see.” Cara nodded. “And what was the bet?”

“Well it was more of a pact…a no-sex pact,” Belle offered.

“Ah.” Cara tapped her index finger against her lips. “Mom, spare me the details, but I’m assuming you broke the pact first.”

“Yes, with Gabriel.”

Cara held up her hand. “No details.” She cocked her head. “And what were the stakes?”

“Loser has to strip out of a wedding dress to Madonna’s
Like A Virgin
,” Julie answered.

“Okay, I think I have a verdict.” Julie and Belle leaned forward. “Mom, you lost. Was it reckless? I can’t be the judge of that, but you still broke the pact. However”—Cara held a finger in the air—“you will not be paying the bet, Gabriel will. Except not in a wedding dress…no one wants to see that.”

It had been almost one year since Belle had met Gabe. She sighed, contentedly. Mirabelle was thirty-eight and three hundred forty-six days. To her, those ten days meant everything because she’d been married before she hit thirty-nine.

After the ceremony, the entire wedding party and their friends and family had migrated over to the Loin of Venus for the wedding celebration. After sharing the first dance with her husband, Belle had enjoyed several dances with Gabriel’s brothers. Her feet were starting to ache and Zach escorted her to a booth next to the stage.

“Thank you for a lovely dance, Belle. I don’t think you’re going to wanna miss what’s going to happen next.”

“Oh, Zach, you haven’t gone and done anything crazy, have you?” He had that naughty gleam in his eye.

“I’ve done no such thing. Gabriel has to perform the penance. I merely offered my assistance. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

Julie, Cara, and Max joined Zach and Belle at the table. Suddenly church bells could be heard and then the repeated beat of the bass. “Oh, God.” Belle’s hands cupped around her face. The lights went down and a commotion on stage drew everybody’s attention.

With the first note of the first stanza the lights blazed and there stood Gabriel in his tux. It wasn’t his gray wedding tux, however. And then he started to dance better than any male dancer she’d ever seen.

“Doing this for you, Belle,” Gabe announced.

“Oh, God. Oh, God.” He slid the jacket down his arms. He thrust his hips to the music in a suggestive move. He’d learned a choreographed dance and he wasn’t shy. While he unbuttoned his shirt, Gabriel completed several figure eight moves, using his hips to be seductive. Now bare chested he highlighted his cut up abs with several chest rolls. He scratched a hand across his pecs and had all of the women—her friends and family—screaming.

He dropped down to the floor so fast Belle thought he’d fallen, but no, he’d caught himself with his forearms and was now thrusting across the stage to the tune of many shrieks, yelps, and whistles. “Oh God, my husband is dry humping the stage.”

Zach leaned over and said, “He’s prepared to go all the way, if you know what I mean.”

“I rarely know what you mean.”

“He’s going full nude.”

Belle shook her head, “No.”

“Oh, yes. That was the wager after all.”

Belle grasped Julie’s shoulder, “Jules, please…say we can call it even now.”

“Absolutely.”

That was all Belle needed to hear. She bolted from her chair and took the stage. Gabriel was back in the upright position and he gyrated toward her. “Hey babe, you better stand back.”

“Why?”

“I’m about to rip these trousers off.”

Belle rested her open hand on his chest. “Nuh-uh.”

“No?” He asked while continuing with his hip thrusts and chest rolls.

“No.”

“But I want to clear the debt for you.”

“Debt’s cleared, Julie agreed.”

“Well in that case why don’t you join me? Be a shame to waste the opportunity.” He thrust against her and placed his arms around her. She jumped into them and wrapped her legs around his waist. The cheering grew to blistering levels as he wiggled his hips against hers. “Since I was prepared to go all the way, I bought a thong.” His breath was labored.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s silver.”

“When the song ends, you better announce our departure.”

“I’ll announce it. I’m going to take you home where you’ll never have to worry that you’ll be alone. I’m gonna get on your nerves so hard you’ll rethink your alone time.”

“Bring it on baby.”

They kissed and for the one hundredth time Mirabelle thought of her new status: Married. She wanted to do everything that married couples do from cruises to filing a joint tax return.

“Hey Gabe?” She picked imaginary lint from his chest. “I’m gonna take care of you too. No more nightmares, no more tormented cogitations.”

“Cogitations,” he whispered back at her. “That’s sexy. Say it again.”