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He waved her off and shooed her toward the couch. “I like cooking. I’ll make us something for breakfast and get the popcorn ready. You’re in charge of pulling up Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on TV.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Are we marathoning them all?”
“Hell, yes. That’s the plan. We spend the day on the couch with blankets and snacks and watch Harry defeat Voldemort. It’s therapeutic.”
“I see. Does this come from some kind of expert or did you come up with this yourself?”
The grin he gave her was one of those panty-melting variety and she was pretty sure he didn’t even know he did it. Being sexy was just his default.
“This was all me. But trust me, I know how to do a lazy day ignoring the world right. I think I even have some Kit-Kats and Twix bars in the freezer. We can pull those out when we hit the third or fourth movie.”
PJ shook her head but she went into the living room and flipped on the TV. Who was she to argue with that type of genius? Besides, curling up on the couch did sound like a great idea, and she hadn’t honestly seen all of the movies. She’d missed the last three.
She listened as Gabe worked in the kitchen, hearing the crack of eggs. Was it wrong that she was hoping he was making her an omelet again? Probably.
But damn, that man could cook.
And kiss….
She shook off the memory of that kiss even as it made her squirm, doing things to her body that she didn’t need just then.
She grabbed one of the throws he had folded on the couch and snuggled under it, flicking to the search function and finding the first Harry Potter movie.
She had it set up and ready to go when Gabe came in carrying a large tray with the omelets she’d been craving and fresh fruit. He hadn’t been kidding about all the types of popcorn.
He settled on the other side of the couch and handed PJ her plate with fruit and eggs.
She was going to be addicted to the man’s cooking by the end of the week.
As they watched Harry wake up in the cupboard under the stairs, PJ whispered, “Can I ask you a serious question before we get too far into the movie?”
Gabe turned to her immediately, his entire focus on her. “Always.”
PJ swallowed at the intensity of his attention but asked her question. “Can you make quiche?”
The way his smile spread slow and easy on his face and his eyes lit with amusement made her instantly relax.
“Damn straight I can make quiche.” He lifted her feet and placed them in his lap tucking her cover around them before winking at her. “Tomorrow.”
PJ felt her chest ease and she snuggled down to watch the movie, feeling lighter than she had in days. She lost herself in the comfort of sitting with Gabe and the unbeatable escapism of watching Harry discover a world filled with hidden doorways, chocolate frogs, banking goblins, and new best friends.
Chapter 7
They watched fourteen of the twenty hours of Potter movies before calling it quits. A steady diet of popcorn, chips and salsa, and Reese’s Pieces had PJ almost wishing they’d stuck to the fruit from breakfast. Almost.
She made a lame attempt at playing her guitar when they finally turned off the T.V. but it hadn’t gone very far. The music that normally flowed through her seemed to have dried up with the stress of the last couple of days.
She was now walking on the beach, a light sweater wrapped around her shoulders. Gabe had assured her she wouldn’t run into any large crowds on the private beach and he was right. With her hair tucked under a floppy sunhat and sun glasses shading her eyes, she was pretty well disguised.
The sand squished between her toes and the muscles in her legs seemed to thank her for the stretch after so many hours on the couch. She kept her head down, watching for the tiny shells that dotted the sand, usually showing up where the water seemed to have brushed them all together to form a line.
A bit of porcelain caught her eye and she picked it up, rubbing her hand over the soft surface. Battered by the sea, it had only come out more beautiful, smoothed of any sharp edge that it had once held, and PJ couldn’t help but wonder if she would come out of this in the same way.
Would the battering she was enduring now leave her softened but not damaged or would she break under the strain? She thought of her aunt and uncle and Mathew. Would they break under what was to come for them?
Tears came to her eyes at the thought. They didn’t deserve this.
PJ knelt and let the piece of pottery go, watching it wash back out to sea. She put her hands down in the sand and felt the water wash over them, burying them bit by bit with each retreating wave.
