One Night with her Bachelor (16 page)

He left two minutes before Lily dropped Josh off, but the wounded look on his face stayed with her long into the night. Even as she helped Josh go to the bathroom and take his evening bath, thoughts of Gabriel scratched away at the back of her brain. Her feverish dreams of his delicious kisses and wicked touch kept her awake most of the night. By the time her alarm went off, she’d given up on sleep and lay staring at her ceiling in a sweaty mess of hormones, too scared to touch herself lest she wake up her son in the next room.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of activity and exhaustion. She’d hired Lincoln Brady, one of the bachelors, to make alterations to the house so it was more accessible to Josh. Linc’s company would install railings around the bathtub and toilet so Josh could lift himself from his chair into the tub or onto the toilet without her help. The construction crew would lower the bar in Josh’s closet so he could hang up his clothes instead of dumping them on his bed. And they were refitting the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen so he could reach everything he needed. Soon she wouldn’t have to wait on him hand and foot. Soon he could be as independent as he was before—hopefully even more so.

The only thing Molly wouldn’t let the crew touch was the ramp. Linc had shown her a design for a ramp that was sturdier and more polished, but she’d cut him off with, “No one touches the ramp.”

She also spent the week putting her truck up for sale and shopping for a used two-door car. Between that and daily meetings with Josh’s teacher, principal, and school nurse to assess his progress, she was lucky if she could speak anything other than baby babble by the time she got home every afternoon.

When she collapsed into bed, though, she couldn’t tear her thoughts away from Gabriel. She worried about him. He’d clearly been in physical pain when they’d gotten back to her house the other night, and he’d made it clear her sympathy wasn’t welcome. He wasn’t a man who appreciated coddling. If he was, he wouldn’t live off-grid in the mountains. He’d given her so much—her son’s future, gas to visit Josh in Boulder, a way to get him inside the house, and the most erotic, freeing night of her life. What did she have to give him in return? How could she make his life more comfortable?

More than anything, she wanted to see him again. Their agreement had been for one date, one night—but she wanted more.

The Saturday morning after their date, she woke up early and decided to take advantage of Josh’s sleeping in. Still in her cozy PJs, she shuffled into the kitchen and brewed a half pot of coffee. Hoping the newspaper had arrived, she walked down the hall, stuffed herself into her coat, shoved her feet in her boots and opened the door. No newspaper lay on her driveway, but an envelope with her name on it lay on her welcome mat. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, but she knew who it was from. Every nerve in her body sizzled to life as she opened it and pulled out a sheet of paper.

M~

Same time next week? Wear your dancing boots, cowgirl.

~G

Before she could knew what she was doing, she’d found her phone and was typing out a text to Lily:
Got plans Wednesday night?

*

Why the hell
am I doing this?

Gabriel turned off the ancient Discman he’d borrowed from his mom and dropped it gently onto his armchair. His head was full of all the country music he loathed. He’d never been a cowboy. Never wanted anything to do with cowboys. His oldest brother, Wyatt, had been a cowboy, and he’d made Gabriel’s growing-up years hell. Every time Gabriel heard a twang, he wanted to punch someone. But this week, for the first time in his life, he’d bought cowboy boots.

Cowboy
boots, for God’s sake.

He’d had to get one with a bit of a heel for his left foot. Because he didn’t want anyone in town to talk, he’d driven all the way to Billings to get them, along with some other clothes, since most of his were ripped or stained. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to go full-on cowboy, so he was wearing a new white button-down shirt and faded old jeans. It was the closest he’d come to a shopping spree in years.

Why the hell am I doing this?

The question had bounced around his head for the past three days. The answer was stupidly simple.
Because you want to make Molly smile again. And you’re not a quitter.

Molly wanted to dance, and Gabriel wanted her to be happy. Seeing her smile had been the highlight of his year. It had loosened up the dark, twisted animal inside him that had growled whenever anyone got close. That animal had turned into a puppy, so eager for a few affectionate strokes from Molly’s gentle hand.

He used to enjoy dancing but never got into line dancing. He probably could’ve picked up the moves easily enough, but most of his tastes in life had been formed by figuring out what Wyatt liked and then deciding to love the opposite.

So yeah, he had the rhythm to line dance but, given the state of his left leg, it now seemed like the hardest kind of dancing possible. Stepping in time, heel turns, kick turns… he might as well try break dancing. Neck spins had to be easier than this.

He put the headphones back on and tried to remember the moves his mom had shown him on her computer the night before. Which one was the boot and which the scoot? At what point did he boogie?

He scrubbed his hand down his face. He was going to look like a complete idiot. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t embarrass Molly. Not if he could help it.

He gathered his gear, put on his coat, changed from cowboy boots to hiking boots and hiked down to his truck. Then he went to his mom’s. It was a little before lunchtime when he arrived, but it was her day off so he knew she’d be home. She spent most of her week slinging hash in a diner outside of town. Her day off was the one chance she got to lie on her couch and read all day long. She clearly wasn’t expecting visitors because she looked confused when she first opened the door. When she saw him, she gasped. “Gabriel.”

“Hi, Mom. I need help.”

Her eyes welled up, her hand fluttered to her chest, and it hit him how true the words were and how long she’d probably waited to hear them. “Anything, sweetheart. What can I do?”

“Teach me how to boot scoot boogie.”

She froze for one second before bursting out in laughter. Next thing he knew, she was smothering her face in his chest, and he was hugging her as she shook against him. Laughing, crying… he wasn’t sure what she was doing. But after a long time of holding each other, she invited him in and spent the afternoon dancing with him.

It was tough. The moves hurt him. He tried to mask how much, but his mom figured it out. When his knee buckled and he nearly fell on his ass, she asked, “Why are you doing this?”

“Thought it would be good exercise.”

She smacked his arm. “Don’t lie to me.”

Rifling his fingers through his hair, he gave her a sheepish look. “I’m trying to impress a girl.”

She grinned. “I knew it! It’s that Lily Taylor, isn’t it? Oh, Gabriel, she’s beautiful. You two would look so wonderful together.”

Trust his mom not to judge a woman for having been a stripper. If anyone knew what it was like to ignore catty whispers as she walked down the street, she did. “Not Lily. It’s Molly Dekker.”

Saying her name aloud felt like healing—the itchy, still-hurt-but-better-soon kind.

His mom’s grin faded away, but the soft, hopeful expression that replaced it made Gabriel’s knee feel like it would give way again. “Molly Dekker. The kindergarten teacher?”

“Yeah.”

“The one whose boy—”

“Yeah.”

She pressed her hand to her heart. “This is more than you looking for a quick screw?”

He cringed. “I’m gonna go puke now. Thanks, Mom.”

“Be serious with me, Gabriel. I need to know.”

He shored up his courage and finally admitted what he hadn’t been able to admit to himself. “Yes. This is more.”

Much more. Everything more.

“Does she know?”

He shook his head.

“And you’re taking her dancing?”

“Yeah.”

“Why line dancing?”

He shrugged. “It seemed like the hardest.”

His mom’s face fell. “You know, one day you could choose to do things the easy way.”

Yeah, he could. He could also give up on living. Same thing, really. “What would be the fun in that?”

She scoffed, turned the music back on, and said, “In that case, try harder to keep up with me. Ready?”

After a few hours of the unusual activity, his bad knee hurt like a son of a bitch and his right cowboy boot pinched, so he collapsed onto his mom’s couch and took that boot off. No point in removing the left boot. It would just be a hassle, and his mom didn’t need to see what his boot covered. She’d seen it before, and she’d wept over him.

Today was not a day for weeping. She sat across from him, her cheeks glowing like she’d been lit up from the inside out. Maybe coming into town wasn’t so bad. Maybe he should do it more often, just to put that healthy smile on his mom’s face. He’d seen that smile too rarely in his life. She deserved more than a husband who’d kicked her out the day she came home from the hospital with another man’s twins and begged for a forgiveness she would never receive. She deserved more than a temporary lover who left the state when his twins were barely in school. And she deserved more than two sons who couldn’t stand to be in the same room. His and Wyatt’s fights had been legendary. Their mom’s tears afterward had been heartbreaking.

Strange, he’d never felt like he had much of a heart to break. But losing his best friend, his career, and his lower leg all in a few moments had ripped his heart to shreds.

And now he was taking his broken body dancing with his best friend’s little sister. No wonder he felt unsteady on his feet.

He rubbed his shattered knee through his jeans. A phantom itch had burrowed into his left leg, but he refused to give in to the impulse to scratch it.

Mind over matter. Ignore it and it’ll go away.
Giving his left knee one last soothing rub, he stood. “I’m gonna go now, Mom. Thanks for the help.”

“Any time. I mean it.”

He shoved his right foot back into his cowboy boot.

He glanced at the time as he climbed into his truck. He hadn’t given Molly a specific time. It’d been so long since he’d asked anyone on a date that he’d forgotten how to do it. Hell, Molly didn’t even have a way of contacting him if she decided she didn’t want to go.

He really, really needed to get better at this. And he really, really wanted to get better at it with her.

‡

T
he doorbell rang
as Molly stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around herself, she opened the bathroom door just enough to shout down the hall. “Josh, can you get that? It’s probably Lily, but ask first. If you don’t recognize the voice—”

“I won’t open it! Jeez, Mom, it’s not like I’m eight.”

She bit back her reply. No, more like thirteen than eight. He was starting to develop the attitude of a teenager three years too early. But she’d noticed his friends doing the same thing, and she experienced a bizarre sense of relief to be worried about something other moms worried about—not how to help her paralyzed son go to the bathroom or become more independent when he could no longer walk. Preteen attitude problems.

What a relief.

Josh called out, “Who is it?” She couldn’t hear the reply but she did hear the excitement in Josh’s voice as he opened the door. “Gabriel!”

Oh my God.
Nerves shimmied through her. He was early. Okay, so he hadn’t actually given her a time, but it wasn’t even six! Who picked someone up for a date before six?

Or maybe that was normal? Her last date had been over a decade ago, and that’d been with Greg, before they’d gotten married. For all she knew, five-thirty was the best time for romance.

Gabriel’s deep, sexy voice carried down the hall. “Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”

“Eh, you know. SOS.”

“SOS?”

“Yeah. Same old stuff. Come into the living room. My mom’s in the bathroom. She usually doesn’t like to go to the bathroom when people are in the house, but it’s too cold for you to wait outside.”