Authors: Debby Conrad
But in spite of their parents’ tragic deaths, Alex had worked hard, gotten accepted into Penn State, and then landed a job with an electronics firm. He was now CEO of that same firm and made a very substantial income.
This was more than she could say for Gabe.
The last she’d heard he drove a cab in New York City. There was nothing wrong with his occupation, but he wasn’t exactly the ambitious type.
But like she’d told Sara, ambition wasn’t high on her list of priorities for a lover. Still . . .
Gabe Montero?
She tried to think of something nice about him. The man
did
come to visit Sara, Alex and the kids every summer, without fail. And Travis and Livvy adored him, for some reason.
Okay, so maybe he told the kids great stories, but so did she. And maybe he paid them lots of attention and brought them presents. But again, so did she. Janie started feeling a little jealous, the way she usually did when Gabe Montero was in town. Mostly because the kids behaved as if their Aunt Janie didn’t even exist when he was around.
But it was only for a week, give or take a day.
Then again, a week is all I need to have a quick fling. Maybe I could call my next book
Everything I Ever Wanted to Know About Sex I Learned in One Week
.
No, Gabe Montero wasn’t the kind of man Janie was looking to have an affair with. Nor was he even close.
Massaging her lower back, and looking out the kitchen window, Sara interrupted her sister’s thoughts. “Janie, here come Alex and the kids. Do you think we could talk about this later?”
“Sure, why not?” Not that there would be much point in bringing it up again. Janie knew Sara wasn’t going to see the light. “My sexual needs obviously aren’t that important,” she said on a sigh, then asked, “You need me to do anything?”
Sara turned away from the window. “You could finish setting the dining room table. That would be a big help. I’m sure Livvy will want to give you a hand.”
“Okay, but only if you promise to sit down and rest for a few minutes.”
Although Sara promised she would, Janie knew she wouldn’t rest for long, if at all. Her sister had the kind of energy that just wouldn’t quit. She was sort of the Energizer bunny reincarnated. Getting up from the kitchen table, Janie grabbed a celery stick, smeared it with dip and headed for the dining room.
Normally, when Janie was invited for dinner, they ate in the kitchen, but not when Gabe came. It was as if he were someone special, thus the reason for the crystal and china. Not that he would probably even notice. The only things he seemed to notice were women’s breasts and legs. Over the years, she’d caught him staring at hers plenty. Not that she had much in the breast department, and not that her legs were long, because they weren’t. Shapely, yes, but not long. Still, he seemed to enjoy looking. And those looks had sent more than one tingle up her spine, too.
In fact, she got another tingle just thinking about him.
It was funny how she’d forgotten about him when she was thinking about candidates. But, wait a minute.
Gabe Montero?
No way, Jose.
She almost laughed as she spread the silverware around the gold-trimmed, white, china plates. Forks on the left, knives and spoons on the right. Sara was a perfectionist and would probably make her do it over if she messed up.
“Hi, Aunt Janie. Can I help?” Livvy asked with wide green eyes and a smile. Her auburn curls were pulled into two pigtails, and her tiny turned-up nose had just a faint dusting of freckles across it. Livvy had gotten the Callahan looks, while her brother Travis was a clone of his father. Alex was tall, dark and gorgeous. But more importantly, he was also a great guy. Sara and the kids sure were lucky.
“Sure, sweetie. Wine glasses on the right, bread plates on the left,” she said, and Livvy nodded. Or was it the other way around? Oh, what did it matter? As long as everyone had what
they needed, it would be okay. Besides, most people grabbed the wrong glass and plate anyway. At least, she always did. Carefully, she handed a piece of stemware to her niece and gave the child a thumbs-up when she set it in the right place.
When they were done, Janie gave Livvy a hug and thanked her for helping. Then the child ran off to see if her mother needed any help in the kitchen. Stepping back to admire their handiwork, Janie smiled satisfactorily just as the doorbell rang. Everything looked perfect against the blue, linen tablecloth. Maybe she wasn’t as lacking in the domestication department as she’d thought. Perhaps there was hope for her, after all. Not that setting a table was any great feat. But still, it was a start.
“Uncle Gabe is here,” she heard Travis yell a few moments later. And then the house was a mass of noise and confusion for several minutes as Alex, Sara and the kids greeted the man. From the sound of things, he’d brought presents for the kids. No big surprise there. She gave her eyes a roll, but was determined not to let Gabe bother her, even though she heard the kids squealing with excitement. Maybe she’d go shopping for them tomorrow and bring them back something more exciting than whatever he’d brought.
Deciding to stay out of sight, she slipped back into the kitchen. She was in no hurry to see the guest of honor. Why should she be? In the ten years Alex and Sara had been married, she’d only seen him a handful of times. She barely knew him, other than the things Sara had told her about him.
But there was one thing she knew for sure. Gabe Montero had a way of looking at her that made her feel sexy. And not just a little sexy, but
wildly
sexy.
Maybe she should reconsider having an affair with him, she thought, reaching for a carrot stick. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about falling in love with him. Other than his dark and dangerous good looks, he wasn’t her type. She could simply walk away afterward with her feelings and emotions intact. Piece of cake.
Oh, who the heck was she kidding? All this talk about having a wild, passionate, meaningless affair . . . But did she really have the nerve to do it?
“Probably not,” she mumbled under her breath, feeling angry that Sara was right about her. She was too nice a girl to hop into bed with a stranger. Damn, and she’d actually been looking forward to it.
Why was it that some women can do it with any Tom, Dick or Gabe--I mean Harry--and not feel guilty about it? And then there’s me. She sighed. She’d dated both Frank and Justin for over a year before she’d slept with them. Then, once she had, she’d wondered why she’d even bothered. Two relationships and not enough passion in either to bother remembering.
She sighed loudly. “I’ll probably die without ever experiencing the big O,” she said, not realizing she’d spoken aloud.
“I know
I’d
be depressed,” a man’s deep, sultry voice said from behind her.
Gabe Montero.
Oh, God.
Mortified, she slowly turned around to find him watching her from the doorway, looking dangerously sexy. He was dressed in tight, faded, blue jeans, a black T-shirt, and boots. His stance emphasized the strength of his thighs and the slimness of his hips. He looked tough, sinewy and lean, giving the impression that no one in their right mind would want to mess with him.
The shadow of his beard gave him an even more manly aura, and his face, neck and arms were a golden brown, obviously bronzed by the sun, since he didn’t look like the type to use a tanning bed.
His too-long, black hair gleamed under the ceiling light, and the corner of his mouth turned up in an almost smile as he stood perfectly still, his gaze still on her face, waiting for her to speak.
Janie forced herself to smile and tried to pretend she hadn’t said something so humiliating. If only her face wasn’t heating up. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Obviously,” he said, raising a dark eyebrow.
Ignoring his teasing, she asked, “So, how’s everything in the Big Apple?”
“Fine.” He opened the refrigerator and helped himself to a beer. “And how’s everything with you? Other than your . . . little problem, I mean.” He popped the tab and brought the can to his mouth.
Had his gaze just drifted to her breasts? she wondered, feeling her nipples tighten in response. “Problem? What problem? I don’t have any problems,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her. She was about to leave the room when the cavalry arrived. Sara, Alex and the kids. Thank God.
“I hope everyone is hungry,” Sara said as Gabe stepped aside so she could enter the room. She grabbed the oven mitt from the counter and pulled open the oven door.
“It smells great,” Gabe told her. “Whatever it is.”
“Lasagna,” she announced proudly. “Janie, why don’t you get the kids seated? And, Alex, you can pour the wine.”
“What can I do?” Gabe asked.
“Nothing,” Sara said, pulling the lasagna tray out of the oven. “You’re a guest. Go sit down and relax.”
A guest!
Hah! Family members weren’t supposed to be treated like guests, Janie thought, making her way toward the dining room. But when she went to move past Gabe, he gave her a devilish smile and winked at her, as if they shared some deep dark secret.
Actually, they
did
share a secret now, although she’d do anything if she could make him forget what he’d overheard. Rolling her eyes, she swept past him and left the room, wondering how she was ever going to live this night down.
* * * * * * * * *
Gabe had sat directly across the dining room table from Janie, and she swore he’d done it deliberately. All through dinner he’d watched her, his lips twitching with amusement, causing her face to flush with embarrassment. Or was her face flushing because of all the wine she’d drank? How many glasses had she guzzled down anyway?
Janie had no idea why she was letting him get to her. Normally, she wasn’t the type to get embarrassed. That was her sister’s style. The always-prim-and-proper Sara.
Besides, it wasn’t as if the man would actually repeat what he’d overheard, especially not at the dinner table, and not in front of the kids. She hoped not, anyway.
And even if he were ill-mannered enough to mention it--which she wouldn’t put past him--she’d simply deny it. She’d say he must have misunderstood her. Then
he
would be the one who was embarrassed.
It was a pleasant thought, but it only lasted a few seconds. Because, somehow, Janie couldn’t see Gabe Montero getting embarrassed over anything.
He was staring at her again. Those dark, penetrating, bedroom eyes were all over her, making her sexual fantasies flash before her eyes. Ignoring him, she reached for her wineglass and drained it. All of a sudden, she started feeling a little woozy, and it took her three tries to set the empty glass on the table without tipping it over. Maybe she should slow down.
“Janie, are you okay?” Sara asked, a concerned expression on her face.
“Of course.” Janie smiled and waved a hand for effect, managing to knock over the salt shaker in the process. “Whoops!” she said, giggling as she stood the glass shaker upright.
Thank God it wasn’t the expensive wineglass. It would have broken for sure.
“Alex,” Sara said softly while she leaned over and touched her husband’s arm. “Don’t let Janie have any more wine.”
For some reason, Sara was always in her big-sister mode. And it bugged the heck out of Janie.
When is she going to realize that I can take care of myself?
Janie glared at her sister, then met Alex’s gaze. Her brother-in-law offered an apologetic smile and said, “Maybe Sara’s right.” Then, he stood and whisked the two wine bottles from the table and took them to the kitchen.
Jeez. Don’t they trust me?
Glancing at Sara, and keeping one eye on Janie, Gabe said, “Maybe Jane just needs to let off a little steam. Everyone gets a little . . . frustrated now and then.”
He’d called her Jane, the way he always did when he bothered to speak to her. Somehow, he probably knew she hated that name. Feeling her face heat up, she tossed a nasty smile in his direction.
Amusement flickered in his eyes, and a smirk teased his sensual lips.
What a jerk he was! she thought She was
not
frustrated!
She reached for her wineglass, only to remember it was empty and she wasn’t allowed to have anymore. Okay, so maybe she
was
frustrated. But what business was it of his?
Suddenly, she was reminded of her problem again and she began wondering about Gabe Montero. Was he the type of man who could satisfy a woman completely? Could he turn a woman to a puddle of liquid, just by touching her with those skillful fingers?
Skillful fingers?
Listen to me,
she admonished. They were
just
fingers, that’s all. And there was nothing
special
, or
skillful
, about them. Just because his hands were large and masculine and his fingers were long. And just because some women liked to joke about how you could tell the size of a man’s penis by looking at his hands--his fingers, to be exact . . .
Oh my God
, she thought, forcing herself to tear her gaze from his hands.