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While I was struggling about what to do with my unexpected baby, she’d given me a small window into that history. She opened up to help explain Gabe’s own past, but still, she hasn’t gone into details about what happened to her. I don’t know if she ever will, but I hope she’ll tell me someday.
“I would love all the help you’re willing to give. With starting a new job, too, I just feel completely behind. But I took work off this week to spend time with you, so we can get lots done.”
“I still want to see this little boutique, though. From the brief conversation I had with your boss, I bet she’s a blast to work with.” Starla’s eyes sparkle with mirth.
“Mallory’s great,” I agree. “Definitely a genius when it comes to business and fashion.”
“Well, show me the rest of the house,” Starla says.
I walk her across the hall to the master bedroom, which I tidied up just this morning so I wouldn’t be self-conscious about anything left lying around.
“Wow, you have a nice master bath,” she says enthusiastically.
“Thanks.” It is probably the most luxurious area of the house, with pretty tiling in both the shower and on the counters. Even so, the space is sparing.
“Where’s Gabe today?”
“The clubhouse. He’s been working a lot lately, trying to get the new club on its feet.”
“Dallas says he’s a natural at the whole president thing.” Starla beams affectionately.
I don’t know why the statement shocks me. While I know Starla is close with all the members of the Devil’s Sons, and she thinks of Gabriel as something of a brother since her father practically raised Gabe, it still surprises me to hear that she and Dallas, Gabe’s vice president, would be speaking.
But I brush over it as I see Starla’s cheeks tinge pink.Is something going on between her and Dallas? Or am I reading into things too much?Maybe it’s just because I’m so wrapped up in my love and life with Gabe that I’m seeing it everywhere these days.
“I think it really helps to have Dally as his vice president and Rico and Knuckles here for support. But if it’s coming together so successfully, Gabe must be doing something right,” I say proudly. I feel so blessed to have someone who would be willing to not only uproot his life to follow me, but to do it in such a way as to make our situation both stable and good. I could tell that the move had added a lot of weight to Gabe’s shoulders, and somehow, he never let that stress come back on me.
“I’m proud of you two for making such a success of this move,” Starla says, echoing my thoughts.
“Thanks.” I pull my friend in for another hug. “Now, what do you say we go get some lunch? I recall how hungry that drive made me.”
Starla laughs. “Food sounds great right about now.”
“Awesome. I’ll drive. You haven’t met Ruby yet, and I’m sure you’re probably tired of being behind the wheel.” I lead Starla back down the hallway and out to the tiny one-car garage that has become Ruby’s home.
“Yes, I have to meet this infamous car that you talk about more like your child,” Starla teases.
“Hey, if you’d gone without a car for as long as I did, you would love your newfound mode of freedom just as much of a godsend as I do.”
Starla smiles lightly as she looks over my little Toyota Corolla, running her hand along the topline before peering inside. “She suits you,” my friend admits. “You’re both cute redheads.”
That makes me laugh. We both open our doors and slide inside the sedan. Then I carefully back out of the drive. On our way into town, Starla catches me up on all the Blackmoor gossip, how each of the club’s old ladies are doing, and how Mark is taking the exodus of his younger club members. In truth, the club was getting too large to fit the clubhouse, Starla confesses. It’s good that Gabriel’s helping expand it, and Mark would trust no one better to get the job done right.
It’s the weekend, so Mainstreet is bustling with tourist activity. Starla and I have to park around the block from the little sandwich place I want to take her to before we head next door to Honey Bee’s. It’s the same little shop where I called her that day I was job hunting and was at my wit’s end.
“This place is darling,” Starla says as we wait in line to place our order.
“I hear the coffee is divine,” I say longingly.
“You poor thing. I know how much you love coffee,” she says sympathetically.
“I think it’s been the hardest thing for me to give up, actually.” I laugh. “It’s not the end of the world, but this baby better appreciate just how much I’m sacrificing for her to come out healthy.”
“I’ll order a latte and let you have a sip,” Starla offers, her hazel eyes kind.
What I wouldn’t give to accept that offer, but I shake my head. “Gabriel let me taste his coffee ice cream the other day, and I practically had withdrawals. I couldn’t stop thinking about coffee. It even came up in my dreams.” My tone is melancholic, and I know I sound dramatic.
Thankfully, Starla takes my humor for what it’s worth, and she laughs before slinging her arm around my shoulders. “I’ve missed you.”
