Gabby Revealed (Finding Perfect) (9 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Blinking, Gabby twisted, shifted
, and curled back into a ball, pulling her angora throw up to her chin as she drifted in and out of sleep on the couch. The sun was setting the last time she had opened her eyes, now it was dark out. Burrowing against her pillow, she tried to shake the chill but couldn’t. She had spent hours processing the emptiness left by John’s passing. Her source of confidence when she needed it was gone. Making matters worse, every time she woke, the memory of Shane’s voice and remembering it was her who called him haunted her.

She’d quit needing friendship after Maggie’s
betrayal; the rest of her high school days cemented her decision. For years she’d been able to keep the thrill Shane’s flirting sent through her a hidden secret. Gabby was careful to be rude, bitchy, and brash to keep him at bay. It never failed to lead to more of him goading her, teasing and, of course, more of his flirting. Only after she’d hang up would she crack, his voice leaving her smiling for long moments each time.

His visit to see her had been the last straw. Her visions of him were destroyed, the real man so much more than she could have ever dreamed. There was no pretending anymore. He was a bookworm like her, but not ugly or pasty white, no…he was beautiful. His eyes were difficult not to get lost in. His body, taller than her, a must and strong, but not a steroid weight-lifting he-man. His
hair, ugh, she’d desperately wanted to run her fingers through it. The light brown looked so soft and shiny. His mind though, that was the downfall for Gabby. He understood her world, lived in her world and didn’t seem to think she was a shut-in, weird recluse like most of the town gossips did.

None of
that explained why she had dialed his number. She’d been on autopilot. Looking back, she could kick herself because now he was coming. At the time she’d instantly felt relief at his promise. Now her stomach was jumpy and queasy. Closing her eyes, she silently berated herself. Silently cussed herself for falling for anyone—especially a man living miles away in New York. That was so stupid on her part, but John’s words came back to her time and time again, “the heart wants what the heart wants.” No matter how many times she ignored John’s gentle prodding, she couldn’t help but wonder.

What the hell was she thinking? She was a realist, one hundred percent
. Women like her did not get guys like him, and they sure as shit didn’t get happy endings.

A hand clasped her shoulder
. She screamed so loud it bounced off the brick walls of her loft. Her eyes flew open and she tried to sit up while swinging her left fist.

“Gabby, hon—it’s just me
,” Shane said softly.

“What the fuck? Can’t you knock?” Gabby fell back into her spot, her head deepening the indention more in the pillow with a heavy thud.

“I did darling. Several times. I even said your name as I twisted the doorknob and entered. Of course it wasn’t locked, but—”

“I don’t need to lock my door.”

“We’ll argue about that later,” Shane said, tucking the blanket under her chin. He simply watched her, stroked her hair and sat silently on the floor beside her. She visibly relaxed, but didn’t go back to sleep. “Have you eaten yet?” She shut her eyes instead of answering him. “I figured so. I’m going to walk over to that bar and grill, Jamie’s or something?”

“Jenny’s
,” she replied smartly, not bothering to look at him.

Shane smirked. Gabby was one small step toward being her smartass self. “How’d I forget? Home of the best burgers ever. I’m going on over, you need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care.”

“Jackass.”

“Darling.” Shane winked, not that she saw, but still. He lived for her retorts and slaps. Upon standing
, he bent and kissed her forehead. She didn’t flinch, snarl, or speak so he continued by stroking her long brown hair, sweeping her bangs from her eyes. It felt right. This town, this apartment above her store, the woman his heart was breaking for, she was right. She was perfect.

Gabby went slack
, and Shane could tell she’d drifted off again. Letting himself out as quietly as he could despite the squeak of the old hinges, he made his way to Jenny’s.

***

“You’re back?”

Shane turned to the voice of the petite waitress as he let the bar door close. Her smile was contagious. How she recognized him he didn’t know, but again he was used to living in a different world. No one knew him and didn’t care either. “I am.”

“How’s Gabby?” He was taken aback as she neared, the sincerity shining in her eyes. She winked at him and he realized he’d not answered. “You’ll have to get used to that, New York. Even as private as Gabby is, we all know about John’s passing. Everyone in town knows she was the one taking care of him. And…well, he was just the neatest old guy. We all loved John.”

Shaking his head, a weight lifted from his chest, one he didn’t know he’d been carrying. Jeff came from the
kitchen, made eye contact and stopped in his tracks. “Hey, man. Gabby doin’ okay? Glad to see you’ve come back in town for her.”

“Thanks?” Shane replied, too stunned to do more than stare at the pair.

Kelly, as her nametag read, patted his arm. “Hang in there. I have a feeling you’re going to do fine. Small town looks good on you, New York. I know what Gabby likes, what do you want and I’ll have the kitchen rush the order. Bet she hasn’t eaten all day.”

All he could do was blankly shake his head.

***

She smelled something familiar. She’d fallen asleep so deeply it was difficult to get her eyes to open. But that smell, no smells—plural, she knew them both well. Jenny’s, one whiff and her stomach growled. The other, men’s cologne, Shane’s to be precise.

“Shane?” she whispered. No way. She’d dreamed he was with her, but he was in New York. Yet, the images had been so vivid in her head, it was as if they had really spoken to one another. She was so tired she couldn’t make herself wake up. Gabby wanted to go back to the dream, where Shane was. He wasn’t something she could have in reality, or even wish for, but in her deepest dreams, she saw him, talked to him, and…he liked her. For real. Not like the bullying of her past.

Nestling into her pillow, his scent became real again. He stroked her hair, like a boyfriend might do, like he cared for her. Like they were a couple.

“Darling, food’s here. You need to wake up.”

His soft words were jumbled, but the smoothness of his voice flowed over her, warming her from the inside out. He felt so
tangible, the heat from his hand was—she opened her eyes. There he sat, on the edge of her couch, his fingers still brushing lightly through her long strands.

“Shane?”
Reality and dreamland crashed into each other. She knew she was out of it, but what was real and what…wasn’t—shit, she didn’t know at the moment. “You’re? New York? Here…job?” Putting the heel of her palm against her forehead, she clenched her eyes tight. “When did you, how? Why are you here?”

“Let’s just eat and we’ll start there,
all right?”

“I thought I smelled food.” Squinting, she indeed spied dinner all laid out and ready on the coffee table.

“Well I told you I was going to go get it.”

Her lip slowly rose in a snarl. “Excuse me?”

Winking, he tipped his chin. “About twenty minutes ago, remember?”

“You…were here
.” She motioned a circle. “As in here, in my home? And I didn’t know?”

“You spoke to me
, darling. As a matter-of-fact, you took a swing at me.” He chuckled.

“That was all—I didn’t dream that?”

“No. You didn’t. Now I know for sure you need to eat. Here, let me help you sit up. It’s obvious you’re starving.” The smart retort died on her lips as her stomach answered his statement loud enough for them both to hear. “As I figured. Come on, the little gal at Jenny’s knew what you’d normally order, and it’s still hot.”

Chapter Fourteen

Shane reached for the remote, turn
ed on the TV, and flipped through the nonsense until he found an old movie.
The Breakfast Club
had always been one of his favorites, but he was hoping to get Gabby focused on something other than John. Wrapping the throw tighter around her shoulders, she snorted and a smile almost appeared as the teens snuck out of the library. His idea was working. While she stared ahead, he placed her plate in her lap, then grabbed his and sat beside her.

Gabby half-heartedly chuckled a few times while picking at her food, but at least she was eating. Shane got nervous for a moment when the credits started to roll, but a commercial announced a Brat Pack marathon. Twenty minutes into the next movie, Gabby’s breathing evened out and her head slowly came to rest on his shoulder.

Before he could stop and think his heart pounded hard several times. She felt so right leaning up against him, softly breathing in her sleep. He was lying to himself. Gabby was worn out, upset, and probably a little bit lost. However, Shane wanted to hang onto this moment a bit longer. Easing away, he slowly maneuvered out from under her enough to set their plates back on the coffee table, and then turned the volume down a bit. Once he was situated with his back against the couch again, Gabby snuggled in next to him. Shane covered her arm back up, where the blanket had slipped off, and toed off his shoes.

She heard the light mu
rmur of voices and realized she’d fallen asleep with the television on. Talk about feeling like she’d been run over. Every muscle in her body ached. The pillow under her head flexed. Last night came back to her. She’d been eating, now Gabby was using Shane’s thigh to rest her pounding head on. Rubbing her temple with one hand, she eased up with the other. Shane was stretched out long, slouching against the couch. His palm fell from her shoulder as she rose and his eyes peeked open.

“Morning
, darling.”

“Shane
,” she softly replied. It was surreal waking up like this. For starters, no one had ever slept in her home with her—ever. But this wasn’t just anyone. It was Shane. For all the years he had flirted, teased, razzed her, Gabby had told herself it was meaningless, that a man like him didn’t mean anything by it. However, when she needed a friend the most, who was the person to drop everything and show up on her doorstep?

He brushed his finger across her forehead, moving her bangs so she couldn’t hide. “How you doing this morning?”

Better with you here
. But no, she didn’t dare say the first thing that popped into her head. “Fine.” His eyebrow rose at her snotty answer. “What? I am.” He gave her a cocky nod back, basically letting her know he wasn’t buying her shit, yet he wasn’t starting a verbal debate over it.

Shane glanced over his shoulder
. “How’s a cup of coffee sound?”

“Like an appetizer for the rest of the pot. What are you—a lightweight? Besides, a shower sounds better.” Gabby stretched. “Well, not better. Okay, fine. I need coffee first.”

“Need?”

“Need. As in to function, breathe, move, think. Yes…need.”

With a smirk she so wanted to smack off his beautiful face, Shane targeted her weak spot. “Caffeine addict, Gabrielle?”

With a huff, she pushed off the couch and padded across the open loft to
the coffee maker and yanked the carafe from its spot. What was she supposed to do now? Here he was in her apartment after they had spent the night together. Which, despite the stiff neck, was pretty amazing. She could still smell his cologne lingering on her. Gabby didn’t want him to go, but she didn’t want him to stay. What if he turned out to be setting her up for a huge fall like Trent Davidson did her senior year?

For months he
had played her. Acted like he was sincerely into her, then when she finally accepted his be date for prom, she sat waiting for hours while the quarterback was actually dancing with the prom queen. Part of her had never forgiven her mother for talking her into accepting his invitation.

Shane squeezed her shoulder and the bad memories were pushed away once more. The carafe was still under the running water, now overflowing into the sink. “Want to talk about it?” He kissed the top of her head as he reached around her, shutting the faucet off.

Shaking her head, it struck her.

Making a quick one-eighty in his hold
. “Shit. I’m going to be late. It’s almost eight. I need to hurry and change clothes. John will be waiting on me. He’s going to need to get into the store and sit down. It wears him out these days—”

“Gabby
,” Shane whispered.

“No
, Shane. You don’t understand, I need to hurry. Yes, I want to have coffee with you. I’m glad you came. There…I said it. Happy now? But you have to let me go. He can’t just stand around waiting, he’s not as strong as he used to be.”

“Gabby, darling
,” Shane said softly again.

“What
, Shane? What. What is it?”

“Darling…John’s…John, honey, he’s gone. Remember?”

Gabby could not get air back into her lungs. It felt as if Shane had physically slapped her. He gripped her upper arms tighter, and for the first time Gabby cried. She cried for her lost friend. For the hell in school, for keeping her success a secret from her parents. She cried for the grandparents she missed dearly and for John’s wife, Edith who treated her as her own granddaughter.

She cried for the loneliness she suddenly felt in Shane’s arms, knowing she’d never have someone like him love her. She cried because she wanted Shane
, and she’d never have—him.

At some point, he’d slid them both down the cabinets to rest on the floor. Now she was between his legs, clinging to his arm, his dress shirt from yesterday drenched in her pain and sorrow. Now that she had no tears left anywhere inside her, she was afraid to face him. Petrified of his rejection.

“I’m so sorry, Gabby. What can I do?”

“Don’t look at me
,” she begged hoarsely. “Please, you…I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Gabby—”

“Please. Shane…I can’t.”

“I’ll make you a deal this one time only, because this is new. I’ll run down to the corner, grab some donuts and a couple of coffees. I’ll give you ten minutes, no more. Deal?”

Focusing on the pale blue fabric covering his arm, Gabby nodded. He helped her up, but she kept her chin tucked tight to her chest refusing to make eye contact. God bless him, he didn’t try to make her either. He ran her hand towel under the faucet and held the cool cloth to her face. She took the reprieve and used it as a barrier to hide behind.

“Ten minutes, Gab.”
Shane dropped a quick peck on her forehead, she stood, listening to him shuffling around until his steps made it to the door. Once the latch fell back into place Gabby lowered the tea towel.

Her head was pounding when she’d awoken, now Gabby was feeling the effects of a full-blown migraine. She didn’t want to open the refrigerator door for some juice
since there were three meals worth of food she’d bought to make for John inside. Her table had a stack of his bills labeled, stamped, and ready for his shaky signature so she could drop them in the mail. Beside them, this week’s pillbox already sorted out and a fresh loaf of bread she’d made early yesterday, but had left home to cool and slice. Sourdough. She sighed. His favorite.

He wasn’t her blood, her family, but he’d stolen her heart just the same.

John’s son and daughter paid for a housekeeper and she did his laundry, yet Gabby still tucked away the treasured items, washing them herself. On her leather chair set one of the many quilts his late Edith had made, clean, folded and smelling lightly of lavender.

Glancing around her loft
, reminders of the man were everywhere. Reminders of the things she was going to do for him today. Reminders of how much the two lonely friends needed each other.

Passing her only enclosed room, her bathroom where headache relief awaited
, Gabby sat at her desk. One click, a screen opened and her fingers started flying across the keyboard.