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7
Mid-City, New Orleans, Louisiana
TUESDAY, JULY 26, 12:30 A.M.
Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?” Gabe asked, hovering in the kitchen archway.
Molly smiled at him from her seat at the table. “I’ll be fine. You gave me sheets and a pillow and a blanket that I’m sure I won’t need.” The house had fans but no air-conditioning, and it was still hotter than Hades, despite being after midnight. “You head to bed. I’m going to sort through your father’s papers and then I’ll go to sleep.”
But not until Burke arrived. They’d spell each other tonight, so that at least one person was awake in case the would-be dog poisoner returned.
“All right,” Gabe said. “There’s water in the electric kettle and the tea is—”
“In the drawer next to the sink,” she interrupted, as kindly as she could. She needed him out of her field of vision because Gabe Hebert, shirtless and in his pajama bottoms, was wreaking havoc on her concentration. His chest was every bit as nice as she’d thought it would be. He wasn’t cut like Burke because he didn’t spend hours in the gym every week, but he was broad and muscled, his chest covered with fine red hair that she wanted to pet. He was every inch her fantasy.
She’d bet dollars to beignets that he slept nude, too, the thought of which was even more of a distraction. His pajama bottoms still had the price tag hanging from the waistband, but she was not going to bring that to his attention.
She shouldn’t have been looking. Sure, when he was the handsome chef and she was his paying customer it hadn’t felt wrong to ogle him a little bit. Or a lot.
But this was different. He was her client, for God’s sake.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the deterrent she’d hoped it would be. It was enough, though. She wasn’t going to ogle him. Not tonight. She had work to do.
Work he was paying her to do.
Besides, he’d had a series of shocks today and that was the nudge she’d needed to look away. She would take care of him until this was over. And then maybe she could ogle him again in good conscience.
“Go to sleep, Gabe. You need to recharge if you’re going to keep up with me tomorrow.” She softened the command with a wink.
He nodded once. “All right. I’ll go to bed now. If you’re sure you don’t need—”
“Gabe?” She lifted her brows. “Go. To. Bed. Please.”
He grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’m... nervous.”
“You have a right to be. A good night’s sleep will help that.”
“It’s not that. Well, yes, it is that, too, but... I haven’t had anyone stay over here.”
She stared at him. “Ever?”
“No, not ever.”
“Not a girlfriend? A friend-friend? Not even Patty?”
He laughed, some of the tension leaving his face. “Patty demands A/C. She says she can’t sleep in this heat.” His laughter faded. “And I’ve been busy with the restaurant.”
Molly put down the pen she held. He needed to talk right now, it would seem. So she’d listen. “No girlfriends, huh?”
“None that stuck around long enough.” He leaned his shoulder into the doorframe, loosely crossing his arms over his chest. “They all thought that dating a TV celebrity chef would be cool, I guess.”
“But the hours are harsh on a relationship.”
“Yeah.” He exhaled quietly. “My father kept telling me to slow down, that life was too short to work all the time. I didn’t listen. And now he’s gone.”
Any lingering desire to ogle him faded at the pain in his voice. She understood that pain. Had felt it herself. “So often we don’t listen,” she murmured, thinking of her own life before that night that her brother-in-law had murdered her father. “I was busy working for the longest time. Working my way up the ladder at the SBI.”
“State Bureau of Investigation,” he said with a nod. “And then?”
