Angel's Rest (23 page)

Gabe gave her a sidelong look. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen that particular wicked glint of delight in your eyes before, Mrs. Callahan.”

“I admit I wouldn’t mind exorcising an old ghost.”

His mouth twisted, and she wished she’d chosen a different metaphor, but then he nodded once, forced a smile, and said, “Go pack your bag, Nic. California, here we come.”

They arrived in Monterey shortly before sunset. He’d booked them into an ocean-view suite at one of the famous Pebble Beach properties. She’d tried to act cool during the obsequious welcome by the staff upon their arrival, but she’d abandoned all pretense of sophistication when she walked into the spectacular sitting room. The furnishings, fabrics, and finishes were like nothing she’d ever seen.

At Gabe’s instruction, the bellman placed her bags in the bedroom, where a king-size bed was dressed in sumptuous linens. Gabe carried his own bag into an adjoining room. Nic stifled the urge to go bounce on the mattress. Next she peeked into the adjoining bathroom
and spied a huge whirlpool tub. This place was a palace. For the first time she didn’t look forward to her “wedding night” with dread.

Actually, she was almost tired enough to start it right now.

Gabe came to stand in her doorway and must have read her mind—or the exhaustion on her face—because he said, “It’s been a long day. How about we order room service rather than try the restaurant tonight? We can watch the sunset from the balcony and turn in.”

“That sounds perfect.” She beamed a grateful smile his way.

He smiled softly in return. “I’ll call room service. How about we meet on the balcony in twenty?”

“It’s a date,” she replied, then immediately wanted to bite her tongue. They’d been easier together the last few hours. With all the fun stuff taking place, she hadn’t dwelled on the bad stuff. She didn’t want this slip of the tongue to ruin that. “I didn’t mean … it’s just an expression. I say it all the time to Sarah and … well …”

“Nicole, I get it. See you in twenty.” He reached to shut the door to her bedroom, then stuck his head back in and added, “No need to parse your words around me. It’s a date.”

She relaxed. Good—she was tired of living in a minefield. She emptied her suitcase and cosmetics bag, then gave in to the urge to test the mattress. She stacked the pillows against the headboard, then kicked off her shoes and curled up atop the coverlet. The pillow case smelled of lavender and sunshine, she thought. It was pure heaven.

Heaven brought to her by her very own angel, Gabriel.

She snickered at her own nonsense and closed her eyes. Except for being exhausted, she felt better than she had in weeks. Her problems were far from solved. Yet
she no longer wanted to either cry or commit murder every time she looked at Gabe—a huge improvement.

She’d had a long talk with herself during the flight to California and she’d made some decisions. She was determined to forgive and forget all the past hurts, both real and imagined. She was prepared to do her part to see that this trip accomplished its purpose, and they could return to Eternity Springs having established a comfortable, compatible relationship going forward. As long as she kept her emotions and expectations under control, they should be able to make this work.

Nic stretched like a cat, then snuggled back into her pillows. She awoke ten hours later to find the down comforter spread over her, a plate of cookies, and a small carton of milk chilling in an ice bucket beside the bed.

“Well, shoot,” she grumbled. She’d missed both the sunset and the bath she’d craved. But on the positive side, she hadn’t spent a single second sulking over the circumstances of her wedding night. All in all, she’d come out ahead.

For the next five days, they played. The weather cooperated, giving them blue skies, sunshine, and unseasonably warm temperatures. He rented a Ferrari and they drove Highway 1 along the Big Sur coast. They played golf, making sure to have their picture taken together at the famous eighteenth hole at Pebble Beach, then she made an e-postcard with the photo and sent it to old friends in Colorado Springs by way of a wedding announcement. She felt a shameful bit of glee in knowing the news would get back to Greg. They toured the famous aquarium in Monterey and wandered through the quaint shops in Carmel. Gabe played more golf while she indulged in some serious pampering at the spa.

It was a lovely trip, and Nic told herself to be happy. She was a guest in a gorgeous hotel in a part of the country
whose beauty rivaled the Colorado Rockies. She’d been pampered and spoiled, her every whim indulged.

Well, not every whim. He’d said no sex, so of course all she thought about was sex.

It was hard not to think about it. She was on her honeymoon, after all, and her husband was drop-dead gorgeous. But he’d gone out of his way to avoid any hint of romance on the trip: no candlelit dinners, no dancing cheek to cheek to soft music, no moonlight walks on the beach. Nevertheless, she couldn’t seem to look at him without imagining him naked.

Her hormones were obviously running amok.

When he downshifted the Ferrari and shot her a grin, or sank a six-foot putt and gave her a cocky wink, or threw a stick for a sandy dog on the beach and laughed, Gabe Callahan exuded sex appeal. She found herself wanting to touch him, to sink her fingers into his hair. To fit her mouth to his, her body against his heat.

Gabe, on the other hand, showed no sign of suffering a similar desire. He was casual with her, relaxed. Friendly. She told herself to be happy for it, to be glad that the awkwardness and tension between them lessened every day. She warned herself not to expect too much too soon. The goal had been for them to return to Colorado at ease with each other and their situation, and in that respect the honeymoon had been a success.

She just wished he didn’t turn her on with a glance.

Pesky hormones.

Gabe needed to run. Or swim. Or run and swim. And lift weights. And do sit-ups. Or take a cold shower. Or jump in the very cold ocean. Or do all of the above.

Something, anything to distract him.

Well, except for the obvious anything.

This honeymoon had been a disaster. Oh, he and Nic got along better. Their conversation never got much beyond
small talk, but the awkward moments weren’t happening as often. Over the past few days they’d learned to get along more like friends than like enemies. She didn’t seem as angry at him, didn’t appear to be so sad. Their time together this week had made Gabe feel better, too. His heart was lighter, his outlook more positive.

But he had to quit noticing her jiggle and swish. The object of this trip was to create friendship, not destroy it again. Bringing sex into the situation now would do just that.

Now
being the operative word.

Someday, he knew, he’d be ready to resume that part of human existence. The day would come when having sex wouldn’t make him wallow in guilt, but that day wasn’t here yet. He had already damaged Nic because of it. He couldn’t, he
wouldn’t
hurt her again that way.

He couldn’t give her his heart, but he could give her his respect. He wouldn’t take her to a bed where another woman’s ghost still lingered.

Nevertheless, as he waited for her to join him on the balcony of their suite so they could watch the sun set on this, the final night of their trip, he was acutely aware of the nearness of a bed. Actually, of two beds.

It would be so easy to fall into a physical relationship with her. However, he’d promised her he wouldn’t use her, and having sex tonight would be nothing more than that. Unless he could give her more, he couldn’t take more from her.

When she stepped out onto the balcony, however, he took one look at her and smothered a groan. She wore the filmy, flirty strapless sundress she’d purchased this morning at a shop in Carmel. It complemented her curves, showed off her legs, and made him want to grind his teeth in sexual frustration.

This was going to be a very, very long night.

“You look like you’re feeling better,” he said, referring to that afternoon’s bout of nausea.

“It’s amazing what a bath in a whirlpool tub will do for a girl.”

Oh, great. Just great. That’s exactly the picture I didn’t need in my mind
. He attempted to counter it by saying, “I’m glad you made it to the bathroom before tossing your Cobb salad.”

She grinned. “The stomach-settling smoothie you ordered for me from room service almost made it worth losing my lunch. I don’t know what they put in it, but I swear I licked the glass clean.”

He almost leaned over and banged his head on the balcony at the visual image of that.

She stood at the balcony railing and stared out at the ocean. “Mother Nature is glorious. So much beauty in the world. So many different kinds, too. Here and at home it slaps you in the face.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off her.

As she glanced back at him, her hair spilled like a waterfall of gold over shoulders tanned by five days in the sun. “You’ve been a lot of places. What’s the prettiest ugly place you’ve ever been?”

So glad was he of the distraction that he spoke without filtering his words. “Far west Texas in July. You have to look for the beauty, but it’s there. The land is as flat as a pancake and dry. Brown. In July, all the vegetation is brown. Heat rises from the ground in visible waves. But the sky is so big. The sunset we’re watching is spectacular, true, but it doesn’t have anything on the desert plain of far west Texas. Because it has the sunrise, too. As pretty a sunrise as I’ve ever seen.”

“Is that where your home was?”

“No.” His lips twisted in a wistful smile. “Our home was at the northern edge of the Texas hill country. It was
pretty. In its own way, just as pretty as here or even Eternity Springs.”

“Because it’s home?” Nic asked, displaying an insight that caused him to think.

He shrugged. He’d lived dozens of places since leaving Brazos Bend, Texas. He’d made a life for himself in a few of them. Was Brazos Bend still home after all these years?

While he considered that question, Nic said, “You seldom talk about your family, Gabe. How many brothers do you have?”

After a moment’s pause, he answered, “Three.”

“Are you a close family?”

“Not anymore.” He studied her over his coffee cup and realized that by asking about his family, she’d helped him step back from the edge of doing something stupid. “I need to tell you about my family, but it’s not a subject for today.”

Then, prodded to flee thoughts of the Callahans, he said, “Want to walk down to the beach?”

Her smile was as pretty as the western sky. “Sure.”

As they walked through the hotel lobby to reach the beach-access boardwalk, Gabe watched three different men give Nic the once-over. Whether it was the clichéd pregnancy glow or the easing of her fears of the future or simply the effect of a good vacation, his new wife glowed. She was as relaxed and carefree as he had ever seen her—beautiful, vivacious, and sparkling.

He could just imagine how she’d look after an orgasm.

Gabe grimaced and stepped gratefully out into the fading light of day. The sooner it got dark, the better.

A boardwalk led across the delicate grassy dunes to the beach where a gentle surf lapped against the sand. Gabe took Nic’s hand for balance as she stepped down
from the boardwalk and then paused to remove her sandals, and he didn’t let it go.

They walked without speaking, hand in hand, the haunting notes of a bagpipe drifting on a salt-scented breeze as the inn’s piper saluted the end of day. As the golden sphere of the sun dipped into the sapphire ocean, Nic halted and faced the sea, where streaks of mauve and purple and pink painted the sky. Gabe watched his new wife’s face as she smiled with gentle delight. Softly she said, “Thank you, Gabe. This trip has been lovely.”

“Lovely,” he repeated as something new flickered to life in his heart. Guided by instinct and a freeing sense that this much, at least, was right and good, he tugged her into his arms and kissed her.

A real kiss. Not a chaste peck or a friendship kiss or an alcohol-blurred assault. It was their first real kiss—a second-date sort of kiss. A kiss with no ghosts between them.

This was Nic. She tasted both sweet and sultry, and Gabe allowed himself to become lost in the sensual pleasure of the moment. He explored her mouth with his tongue, nipped her lips with his teeth, and encouraged her response with a low-throated groan. He held her tight, wishing to pull her even closer. He stroked his hand down the curve of her waist and across her hip, resisting the more intimate embrace his instincts urged.

He drew back, ending the kiss, and held her for a long moment as he soaked in the sensation of having a woman in his arms. It felt so good. Nic felt so good. He had been alone for so long.

As the shadows deepened around them, time hung suspended. She waited for him to speak. He waited, wanting her, wondering just how far to take this. Was this the right time?

But even as the question formed, he heard the whisper of ghosts on the soft ocean breeze and knew he couldn’t
do it. He leaned forward, rested his forehead against hers, and spoke from his heart. “I’m sorry, Nic. I wish … I just … I’m sorry.”

“Me, too, Callahan,” she said with a sigh. “Me, too.”

Nic awoke the next morning to a gray sky and a blue mood. The evening had ended abruptly last night. Right after the kiss on the beach, right after she’d realized that she’d fallen in love with Gabe Callahan, he’d gone into full retreat.

True, she’d been cold in her sundress after the sun went down, but she knew that Gabe’s insistence they return to their suite had more to do with his comfort than with hers. Claiming tiredness, he’d turned in early, but she’d heard him leave his room an hour later and watched him return to the beach for a solitary walk.

She’d gone to bed alone and lonely once again, grateful that at least she had her pride to keep her warm. Thank goodness she hadn’t confessed what she’d realized was in her heart.

As she packed to return to the real world and Eternity Springs, Nic admitted that as much as she’d loved the trip, she was ready to go home. She missed her work, fretted about how Tiger was doing at Sarah’s with her goldens, Daisy and Duke. He’d been with Nic since Christmas, and she’d given up finding a permanent home for him with someone else in town, at least until the seasonal residents began arriving in May. Technically, he was still on the adoption list, but since he slept in her living room every night, everyone considered him hers.