Overflow: The Carpino Series (4 page)

Jude gives him a lift of the head, as if he’s agreeing that
yes, he will indeed see Tony tonight at six!

What?

“What?” I mini scream!

“Vic’s co-worker dropped out of the draft, Jude is going to
take his place,” Tony answered.

“What?” I repeat my thought and mini scream! 

Tony ignores my mini scream and turns to walk out of the
room yelling back at me, “If all you’re bringing is salad, it’d be good if you
brought something sweet Gabby!”  Then he disappears into thin air.

I look to Jude and repeat yet again, “What?”

“I told Tony I’d come with you.  I’ll pick you up at five
thirty,” he informs me. 

“Five thirty?” I ask.

“Gabby, you ask a lot of questions.  Yes, I’ll be here at
five thirty.  Size of this town, you can get anywhere in thirty minutes, even
though Tony said it wasn’t far,” he informs me again.  “The crew said they’ll
be done soon.  They’ll contact your insurance Monday morning and get with you
about the details.  The fans need to run through Monday night.  Good luck with
that, sugar, I think they’re freaking the dog out,” he continues, throwing a
glance over at Mia tucked into a tight ball in her bed, unmistakably not liking
the buzz of the fans.

Not hearing anything past “sugar” and not getting my wits
about me, the only thing I can come up with is, “You play Fantasy Football?”

“Not for quite a few years, but I used to,” he answers.  “I
gotta get to the office and get some shit done this afternoon, you good here?”

“Uh…yeah, I’m good,” I answer, still trying to catch up with
the latest plans.  “You really don’t need to come and get me, I can get you the
address so you can just go straight there.”

“Not a big deal, we’re both goin’,” he answers with
finality.  Looking at me intensely, he says with authority but it comes out
more like a demand, “Five thirty.”  Then he turns and walks out of the room. 

Finally pulling myself together, I remember my manners and
run out of the room to follow him up the stairs and to the front door that he
is already opening and call to him, “Jude?”

He turns, “Yeah?”

“Well,” I look down and then slowly back up to him.  “Thanks
for today.  All your help, you know, moving furniture and stuff.”

“Do you have an alarm?” he asks out of the blue.

“Uh, yeah?” I sort of answer, trying to get used to his
bizarre conversation tactics.

“Set it when the crew leaves.  Keep it set while you’re in
the house and lock your doors,” he instructs again.  Then his arm reaches out
low, pointing down and to the side, he continues, “And please, look out your
freaking window before you answer the door.”

I feel myself frowning and say, “Why are you telling me
this?”

“I’ve got to get to the office, we’ll talk more tonight,
just do as I say, all right?”

I sigh, thinking locking my doors and setting my alarm isn’t
that big of a deal, does he think I’m an idiot?  “Okay, fine,” I answer with
only a hint of attitude.

“Good.  See ya at five thirty,” he gives me a head lift and
I stand here watching him turn to jog down my front steps to his silver truck. 
He opens the door to his truck, turns to look at me and repeats loudly this
time, “Lock the door!”

I glare at him for a second, realize we are in a stare down
and he’s not going to leave until I lock my door.  Fine, whatever.  I move out
of the way, swing my door shut and lock it.  I stand here and stare at my door
and then glance down at Mia, who is sitting at my feet looking up at me.  She
doesn’t look as confused like I feel, she’s complaining that her morning nap
has been interrupted by all the activity and she’s behind on her rest.  “Let’s
go outside, baby,” I tell her, thinking I could use a nap as well.  I let my
sweet girl outside and head to my pantry to see if I have ingredients to make
something sweet for Tony.  I find the fixings for almond vanilla bars.  Tony
deserves almond vanilla bars after answering my every whim for the last two
days.  I get the first layer spread, start mixing up the cream cheese and powdered
sugar topping when I realize that Jude never told me why he came by this
morning.   I didn’t think of it when we were moving furniture and lifting
carpet I was so focused on the task at hand.  He said we’ll talk tonight, so
apparently I’ll find out soon enough.  I put my bars into the oven and set
about making the raspberry vinaigrette for my spinach salad as I hear the
restoration crew coming up the stairs.  They confirm everything Jude told me
about their plans, I find out they will be back late on Monday to check the
moisture levels in the basement and I see them out.  I let Mia back in, finish
my dressing, pull out my bars to cool and head to my bathroom to take a
shower.  I lift Mia onto the bed, she curls up immediately to catch up on her
beauty sleep and I look at her enviously.  Thankful that I have two hot water
heaters so I can still take a shower, I turn on the water to warm up, but
hesitate.  Turning, I walk back to my front and back doors, lock them both and
arm my security system.  Frowning at myself, not really knowing if I’m
conflicted about following Jude’s commands or confused about why Jude commanded
it, I head back to my shower.  As I stand under the hot water in my walk-in
shower that I just renovated the previous year, I try to ignore the tiny little
happy spark I feel deep down that is seriously scaring me more than any of the
crazy ass stuff that has happened to me in the last two days.  Not really
wanting to admit it, but I’m pretty sure that itty bitty spark might be having
Jude Ortiz in my house.  Or maybe it could be Jude Ortiz being bossy telling me
to lock my doors and set my alarm.  Scaring me even more was the possibly it
could just be both.

For the second time today, I’m standing on Gabby’s porch
pressing the bell.  If she doesn’t look out the fucking window before opening
the door, I might have to turn her over my knee.  At the same time, I’m trying
to think about how I’m going to talk to her about Trevor Harper and how she
needs to take extra precautions until we find him.  I need to get that done
before we go to the draft.  I only said yes to the draft so I could see Gabby
again, I haven’t been in a Fantasy Football League since I was deployed.  But
her cousin seems to be a decent guy, clearly has Gabby’s back, so when he asked
if I’d draft a team at the last minute, I took my opportunity.  I thought about
filling him in on what’s going on with Trevor Harper, but decided to talk to
Gabby about it first since she at least had a security system in place and if
she used it, she should be okay for today. 

I hear the dog again and a moment later I see Gabby peek out
the window to look at me.  I have to say, I’m relieved she’s capable of
following directions.  I lift my head to her, she disappears out of the window,
I hear her throw the lock and she swings the door open.  

“Hey,” she says softly. 

Shit, she’s beautiful.  She’s wearing makeup now, but not
too much, her dark blonde hair has been smoothed into long waves down her
shoulders to the middle of her back.  The front of her hair, coming just below
her nose, has fallen slightly over her forehead and I see her hand come up to
tuck it behind her ear.  She’s wearing a black New Orleans Saints faded but
definitely girlie t-shirt because it hugs her tits and torso perfectly.  She’s
got on a tight faded jean skirt, not too short but hits her above the knees. 
She’s barefoot again.  As my eyes make the slow trek back up to her face, I
notice her attention is on the dog who is again circling my feet wanting my
attention. 

“Mia,” she calls.  I look down at the dog, which now has two
ridiculous fucking bows on its head, one over each ear.  “Come on, baby,” she
calls softly again and the dog goes to her immediately.  “You want to come in
for a sec? I need to grab the food,” she says to me.

“Yeah,” I answer, following her into the house.  She turns
to the left, immediately my eyes go directly to her ass where there’s sparkly
shit on the back pockets of her jean skirt.  Thinking that I haven’t had a
‘type’ in a long time but Gabby just might be it, my eyes go from her ass to
look around her house.  It’s pretty damn big and I’m wondering again if she
lives here by herself.  We move through a huge room filled with a shitload of
furniture and windows all along the back of the house.  The backyard is deep
and wide surrounded by a rod iron fence with lots of landscaping that looks out
onto a lake.  I’m an outdoors kind of guy and have never been big on
subdivisions, but there’s enough nature through those windows to almost make
you forget you have neighbors. 

Gabby cuts into my thoughts and says, “I was thinking, you
really don’t have to take me to the draft.  I’ll drive and you can follow me. 
I have no idea why it takes so long to pick football players, but those guys
really get into it and it can go late.”

I look over at her and she’s moving around the enormous
kitchen with her back to me as she’s trying to get out of coming with me to the
draft.  Deciding to change the subject on her, I ask, “Do you live here alone? 
You’ve got a sweet house, sugar, but it’s big for one person.”

She comes to a dead halt where she’s standing with the
refrigerator open and is in the middle of reaching for something.  I call to
her, “Gabby?”

She moves again, grabbing a bottle with red stuff in it and
an enormous silver bowl.  She turns, puts it all on the counter without looking
at me and quietly, “Yes, I live alone.” 

Something isn’t right, she doesn’t say anything else and
continues to move around the kitchen at a faster pace than before.  The
investigator in me can’t help it, I move to the island and I press on, “It’s a
lot of house for just you.  How long have you been here?” 

She again stops with her back to me just on the other side
of the island.  Turning slowly, with a blank face, she puts her hands on the
counter and leans in across from me.  During the few times I’ve been around
Gabby, she’s either asking me questions out of surprise or ranting about
something while tossing her cute as shit attitude around.  So when she starts
talking without throwing attitude or questioning me in a state of shock, it
surprises the hell out of me.  She says with zero emotion, “I’ve lived here
since I was three and my parents built this house.  I’m an only child so when
my parents were killed in a car accident about three and a half years ago, they
left everything to me and now it’s mine.  I know it’s a lot of house for me,
I’m updating it slowly, though my hot water heater seemed to have different
ideas.  Now the basement is on the top of my to-do list and will be done
quicker than I had planned.  When I finish, I’m going to put it on the market
hopefully getting top dollar, as houses in this neighborhood tend to get when
they’ve been fully renovated.”  She lets out a breath and continues, “So yes, I
live here by myself.  Well sort of, I have Mia of course.”

Well that didn’t go like I thought it would.  I feel like a
dick.  She continues to stand there staring up at me emotionless.  I don’t like
that blank look on her beautiful face and I’m pissed at myself for putting it
there.  Wanting to do something, anything, to change that look, I make a quick
decision and turn to move around the island.  Once I close in, I know I’ve
chosen well because she turns slightly to face me and once again she treats me
to her shocked as shit look I’m beginning to not only find cute, but down right
sexy.  Relieved her blank look is history, I move in as close as I dare, as
close as I can without touching her body with mine like I want.  I put one hand
down to the side to lean on the edge of the island and move my other to her
face.  She jerks slightly, surprised by my touch, but then stills.  I feel her
soft skin and move my hand back, over her ear and into her heavy but soft hair,
which is softer than I imagined.  I barely tighten my grip and she responds by
tilting her head back.  I look straight into her blue eyes and say, “I’m sorry
you lost your parents, sugar, and I’m sorry you’re here by yourself.”  I hear
her take in a breath and then she closes her eyes.  I give the back of her head
a squeeze and she opens her eyes at my silent command.  “I’m an ass, I
shouldn’t have pushed it.”

She barely shakes her head whispering back, “That’s okay,
Jude.  You didn’t know.” 

Then, shocking me in a whole new way, she moves her eyes
down to my mouth and then back up to my eyes.  Fucking hell, I want to kiss her
but don’t want our first kiss to be right after I prove to her I can be a
jackass.

Not wanting to let her go, but knowing I should, I opt for
something in the middle. 
I let my hand slide through her hair, lightly down her back, finally letting it
rest on her lower hip and inform her, “We should go.  And I’m not following
you.  You’re comin with me.”

She pulls in a deep breath again and this time I can feel
her breath softly on my neck when she exhales breathing, “Okay.” 

I tighten my hold on her hip, “Get your stuff together,
Gabby.  Do you need help with anything?”  She finally steps back forcing my arm
to drop, I let go of her even though I don’t want to and she forces herself
back to reality.

“I just need to get my shoes, grab my salad and dessert then
I should be ready.  If you could carry that bowl, I’d appreciate it,” she
mutters and turns to disappear into a side hallway which I can only assume
leads to her bedroom. 

I move to pick up the bowl and turn to look around her house
again, seeing it differently this time.  This time is seems massive, too big,
too much for Gabrielle Carpino to be shouldering by herself.  Knowing what she
just shared about her life, she seems even more vulnerable than she did fifteen
minutes ago.  Although she seemed a bit overwhelmed, she handled her flooded
basement this morning without too much drama, appearing to have adjusted to
bearing what life has handed her.  But now she seems more alone than ever to me
and I realize I’m no longer just curious about this woman.  Making a decision I
haven’t made in a long time, I decide that I want to know everything there is
to know about Gabrielle Carpino.  As I’m standing in her big ass house knowing
what little I already know of her, that want feels more like a need.  A need
that I intend to start filling immediately.

Hearing her come back through the room, having taken too
long just to get a pair of shoes, now wearing a pair of black flip flops, she
apologizes, “Sorry to make you wait.”

“It’s okay, Gabby,” I return, watching her grab the bottle
and a platter covered in foil. 

“We can go out the garage if you don’t mind.  I need to set
the alarm,” she says, moving toward a back hallway and I follow her into a room
that clearly leads to the garage.  I look around and immediately start to take
in all I can about Gabrielle Carpino.  There are lots of cabinets and counter
tops on one side with a built in desk.  On the wall behind the desk is a bulletin
board with a mass of pictures of what looks to be Gabby with friends and little
kids who must be important to her.  On the other side of the wide room is a
bench with baskets and shit underneath with hooks above.  There is another door
that leads to a darkened room but I can tell there is a washer, dryer and
sink. 

Gabby grabs her purse off a hook, hesitates while looking up
at me with a new look, a nervous look and says while scrunching her nose, “Mia
likes to go, too, do you mind?”

I look down at her ridiculous dog with the stupid bows in
its hair, obviously excited because she thinks she’s gonna get to go
somewhere.  I look back up at Gabby, slowly shaking my head no, but find myself
giving her what she wants saying, “Sure, why not?” 

But this time I’m gifted with yet another new look from
Gabby as she smiles huge, genuinely lighting up her face like I just handed her
the world in the palm of my hand as she looks up at me and exclaims, “Thanks!” 
Looking back down at the dog, she keeps on, “C’mon baby, let’s go to Aunt
Lizzie’s house!”  My chest warms and I find myself immobile with the look she
gifted me with just for telling her the damn dog can come with us.  I find
myself thinking I need to get my shit together at the same time wondering what
else I can do to make her that happy again. 

The dog, receiving affirmation that she gets to go, starts
attacking the door.  Gabby arms the security system, which I hope is a fucking
good one, and the beeps snap me out of my reverie.   We both head out the door
and into the garage.  I stop in my tracks, once again, before heading down the
steps as she pushes the button to lift one of the garage doors. 

What the hell? 

Her Tahoe is parked in the middle of mass chaos.  Unlike her
house which seems organized and decorated to the hilt, her garage is a disaster
filled with shit.  Old shit and a lot of it.  “What the hell, Gabby?” I repeat
my thought out loud this time, not able to tear my eyes off of the tragedy in
front of me.  This is seriously a disgrace to garages everywhere. 

Gabby’s already down the stairs, her long sexy legs making
their way through the mountain of crap that is her garage, she looks over her
shoulder throwing a scowl at me and asks, “What the hell, what?”

“Are you collecting garbage?” I ask, still not able to move
off the top step.

“No, I don’t collect garbage!” she returns.  Then she
continues to explain the calamity in in front of me, “I like to shop, hitting
garage and estate sales as much as I can.  I find great stuff and even though I
might not have a plan for it, I buy it.  Someday I’ll have the perfect place
for all this, either for me or a client.  I got great deals on most all of
these pieces, they’re treasures!”

I have to make myself move down the steps to wade through
the shit Gabby considers treasures.  “I don’t think you got the great deal
here, sugar.  I’m pretty sure you’ve been taken to the cleaners,” I mutter, as
I beep the locks on my truck following Gabby to the passenger side.

“You’ve just never seen what I can do with an old piece of
furniture.  Trust me, they’re treasures,” she informs me.

I look down at her and grin.  “I guess I’ll just have to
take your word for it, but I’m not really seeing your vision, Gabby,” as I open
the back passenger door of my quad cab.  I put the bowl and platter on the
floor, shut the door and open the passenger door for her.  I watch her bend
down to pick up her dog, her skirt stretching tight across her ass and thighs. 
I have to tear my eyes away from her ass as she climbs into my truck, settles
her dog on her lap and grins at me.  Shaking my head I slam her door, round the
front of the truck to climb in and start it up.  Jacking up the A/C for her and
wanting to keep the mood light, I turn to her, resting my forearm on the
steering wheel.  She looks up at me as she finishes buckling and I say to her,
“I didn’t take you for a Saints fan, sugar.”

Waving her hand in between us, she explains, “Well, it is a
Fantasy Football Draft, and even though I only go to eat and hang out with my
family, I like to dress for the occasion.”  I keep staring at her, so she
continues with her crazy explanation, “I really don’t watch that much
football.  I like their colors and the fleur-de-lis is pretty.  I wore a
Raiders shirt one year and thought I was going to be disowned.  My family is
full of Chiefs fans, which translates into Raider Haters, so I switched to the
Saints because the Chiefs mascot does nothing for me.  Are you a Chiefs fan?”

Now I’m the one shocked as shit by her crazy ass reasoning
for wearing a Saints shirt.  All I can manage is, “Broncos.”