AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I want to take you out Friday night. Down to Blue Moon and then Poor Boys to hear your sister sing with her band.” His gaze stayed on the picture above her fireplace while his voice confirmed her early suspicions.
“I’m married.” She flashed her hand at him, blushing when she realized nothing was there.
“As friends, Zoe. Nothing more.” His indigo eyes gazed at her, in their depths so much pain that she covered her mouth in shock. “For old time’s sake.”
“Are you okay?” She lay the hand that had covered her mouth on his arm.
“Fine.” He grabbed one her pillows, flipping it around in his hands. “Just thought you might need someone to talk to or a shoulder to lean on.”
His shirt was damp from where she‘d done just that. “Guess I did.”
Things had always been easy between her and Gabriel. They’d always been more like friends than lovers. More like brother and sister than an engaged couple. While she knew he had his own beliefs about sex and marriage, he was still a man with a man’s needs and wants. Needs and wants that he’d never pressed on her.
If she didn’t know how much of a stand-up kind of guy he was, she would have suspected he’d been cheating on her. But that wasn’t his style. He was too honest.
Azalea Holland had been the one to insist they belonged together. On paper they were perfect, but in real life…boring and there had been times when Gabriel had been downright mean and impatient with her. Totally out of character for him. Like now.
“Did one of my brothers put you up to this?”
He sighed and leaned back on her sofa. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I agreed to ask you out as a favor to someone.”
“Luke?”
“Yeah.”
She should have known.
“I’m sorry, Zoe,” he said, placing the pillow between them. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were dating.”
He sounded so sincere that she moved her hand down to his, gripping it. “I know. You said that in the letter you wrote me. You’re a good man.”
His shoulder sagged, then he placed his hand over hers. “I need some advice. “
Scooting to the edge of her cushion, she said, “I’m all—”
“Get your bloody hands off my wife.”
Chapter Twenty- Seven
Zoe fell off the couch, pain exploding in each kneecap as the hardwoods gave them a high five. “Ow!”
Christian rushed over before Gabriel could help her, lifting her by the elbows and making her body hum in approval.
Stupid body.
She shouldn’t be excited to see him. She should only be mad and hurt. And suspicious. There hadn’t been anything in the news or on the Internet about the pictures. Yet. Not that she cared.
“Get your bloody hands off of me,” she snapped, but Christian didn’t let go until she was firmly on her feet.
“Shall I get some ice for your knees?”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m done with my documentary, wife.” Christian stroked the side of her cheek, his touch soft and gentle. It made her knees weak. It made her wish for a knife. “Now I’m home to stay.”
Once she would have loved to hear those exact words, but now she wondered if he had more horrible publicity to get rid of, or those stupid pictures had finally gone viral.
“I’m not your wife.” She scowled at him, then remembered Gabriel sat on the couch. “And you’re interrupting my date.”
Instead of pissing him off or making him leave, Christian extended his hand to Gabriel. His hand. “I’ve heard good things about you.”
“Nice to meet you, Romanov,” Gabriel stood, then shook Christian’s hand. “I better be going.”
She did not want to be alone with Christian. “I thought you needed my—”
“Let’s have a beer.” Her husband, yeah she could refer to him in her head like that, ambled over to the kitchen like he owned the place.
“Seriously, Zoe, I think it’s best if I leave,” Gabriel said quietly.
“Here we are,” Christian handed Gabriel a beer and Zoe a glass of juice. “Your toast will be just a minute, love.”
“Quit trying to remind me of Vegas,” she snapped.
Christian smiled, then sat in the chair closest to the fireplace. She and Gabriel copied him by resuming their former seats on the sofa.
“This was your Grandmother Waverly’s house, right?” Christian asked, surprising her with his knowledge. Just how much did Sasha find out about her? And more importantly why had Christian continued to read it?
He searched the open floor plan of her house, and much to her dismay she found herself wanting Christian to like it. To love it and want to stay with her. She mentally shook herself. He didn’t want to be here and she sure as heck didn’t want him either.
“I started renovating it about three years ago, but I’m not quite finished,” she said, plucking at a quilt throw, then smoothed her skirt down. Bells at the hem jingled.
She took a large gulp of her juice.
“I like your skirt, love. Puts me in the mind of dancing girls and sultans,” Christian said, his gaze caressing her face.
She spit out her drink.
“Hey!” Gabriel shot to his feet, brushing at the liquid with his hands.
Clenching her jaw, she wiped her mouth. Christian would bring up her wearing nothing but that stupid skirt for him while doing her best impersonation of a belly dancer.
Orange juice dripped off of Gabriel and onto the floor. “Can someone get me a towel so I don’t make your floor sticky?”
She marched to the kitchen to grab a towel, leaving her half-empty glass on the counter.
“Was that a movie you starred in?” Gabriel asked as she handed him the towel.
“There were cameras involved, but it will never be seen by the public.” Christian winked at her, his smile wicked and making her mouth drop open in shock. He’d recorded them? Ringing her husband’s neck would be too good for him. He should be made to star in a reality television show instead.
Gabriel’s eyebrows rose as he gave her a sidelong glance. “Now I really have to go.” He tugged at his wet shirt.
She grabbed his arm. “Don’t be silly, Gabe. You know you’re always welcome. After all, we were planning on living here. Together.” Turning to Christian, she said, “We even picked out the furniture in the master bedroom. Together.”
