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Bree smiles. “I would love to. I’ll try to move some things around.”
“You do that,” Connie says firmly, making it clear that it’s not a suggestion. Now Bree and Gabe are struggling to hide their smiles. “Let’s stop dilly dallying, Gabriel. I’m hungry.”
Gabe nods at me, then gives Bree one more of those looks that makes my hand curl into a fist. They trade smiles, then Connie and her grandson are on their way out the door.
Bree’s quiet as we head to the elevator. I have so many questions. Visions of Bree touching him, kneading his muscles and having her body right next to his. It’s her job. I know that. But when I was picturing all her patients looking like Wes, I was good with it. Now? That guy is jacked and he looked at her like he wants to give her the world.
That’s my job.
“A patient,” I finally say, taking a sip of my coffee. “He looks pretty damned healthy, so good job!” She snorts and leans her side into mine. I lift my arm and tuck her in, any lingering jealousy over Gabe drifting away. She’s mine, I know it in my core. And it doesn’t matter how much he might want her, he’s never going to get the chance. I will keep Bree so fucking happy and satisfied, that she won’t even notice other men.
“Tell me about Connie,” Bree asks, resting her cheek on my chest. I wish I wasn’t holding this damned coffee. I want both hands free to hold her, to touch her. I settle for wrapping my arm tighter around her and pressing her closer, until our bodies are aligned from thigh to shoulder. Immediately, everything in me settles.
“I met Connie a few months after we moved in here. It was a day kind of like this actually. She was heading out for a walk, but she looked a little wobbly. She was still resisting getting a cane at that point.”
“So you pulled out your charm and flirted with her like mad?”
“Basically. Only the woman is sassy and a little dirty minded, so it turned fun really fast. She’s had an amazing life. She lost her husband a long time ago, and she was left to run their company alone. She’s worth at least a billion by now. She’s mostly retired, but she still keeps track of what’s happening. She’s still in charge, despite what anyone else at her company might think.”
“Wow. That’s an amazing accomplishment. Now I really want to have tea with her.”
“Her cookies are seriously good. She imports them from somewhere in the UK. She won’t ever show me the container.”
“Smart woman. She’s keeping you on her hook.”
I snort. “I’m well aware. But I like spending time with her. My Abuelita would be about her age if she were still alive.”
“I’m really glad you two found each other then,” she says softly, resting her forehead against my jaw.
“I’m really glad I found you,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her cool skin.
“I am too,” she whispers back. She sighs and takes a sip of her drink. “Are we going to the shelter this afternoon?”
“Yep. I almost got Goldie out of the kennel on the leash. I’m feeling lucky. Today’s the day.”
“Do you think she’ll ever get better? She deserves a good home.”
“Yeah, she does.” Which is why I already filled out the adoption application for her, and gave Cadence enough to cover room and board for the next few months. Goldie’s not going to be rushed, and that’s ok. When I want something, I can be incredibly patient if I need to be. Goldie needs time, and I can give her that.
But one day, soon hopefully, she’ll be running around the penthouse at family dinner, chasing the kids. I can picture it now, the shrieks of laughter, and her wagging tail. It’s going to happen. There is no other option. But I don’t tell Bree that. I’m not sure why I’m keeping quiet about it. It’s not a secret, not really. It’s more that when something’s really important to me, I keep it close. I nurture it. Until one day, it’s ready for the light of day. So instead of saying more, I change the topic. “When is Mia’s birthday party?”
“Seven,” she says, her face lighting up. “I’m going to go up and help Evie decorate. Ransom wanted to hire a party planner, but that didn’t go over well.”
“No, it wouldn’t. I wish I'd seen that fight.” It would have been epic. Ransom wants to spoil Mia in every way possible, as a good uncle should. And Evie thinks it's stupid to waste a bunch of money on a party. I get where she’s coming from, but even after marrying Colton, she still doesn’t seem to understand how rich we are. Or care, for that matter.
“I’ll come up and help. I don’t want either of you on a lad–
The elevator doors open on Bree’s floor to shouting. Trading glances, we step off, finding John and Abby in some sort of stand off.
“It ain’t your fucking business,” he growls, leaning down to get right in her face. His scarred scowl doesn’t seem to intimidate her, at all. I’ve gotten to know Abby fairly well, and honestly, the more I get to know her, the less I understand this little thing she and John have going on. She’s sunshiney, and he is not. And yet they still seem to hang out a lot. She’s at almost every cooking lesson, more often than not cracking jokes. It’s like she’s coming back into herself.
And John, despite all that, is still his grumpy loner self. It’s like Rocky and Adrian, except if Adrian were a two hundred and ninety pound convicted felon, and Rocky were a rainbow haired office administrator.
So basically the same.
She folds her arms over her chest, fingers tapping on her arm. She shakes her purple hair back, it seems to change color every few weeks, and glares right back at him. “Stop being such a jerk. I asked a simple question. That’s all. Clearly I hit a nerve, but you need to calm your tits. If you don’t want to talk about it, fine. That’s your choice.”
John’s lip curves into a sneer. “It’s my choice? Really? Well thank fuck. I didn’t think you got that. You’ve been up my fucking crack about it for weeks. Maybe now you can mind your own fucking business.”
