It was just that she looked so good in his house. So right. Despite the great bones of the building, the views and location, he’d always felt like something was missing.
Now he knew exactly what it was.
How different would it be if Megan and Summer lived here with him? If all that color from their small apartment were in here? If their clothes hung in the closets and Summer’s drawings were up on his fridge?
Knowing he was getting ahead of himself, that nothing past tonight’s fireworks was even settled, Gabe forced himself to take a step away from the only woman who had ever ripped his control to shreds.
“That omelet barely took the edge off,” he told her. “How does Thai food sound for dinner? There’s a great place around the corner that delivers.”
Her face lit up. “I love Thai.”
Jesus, he wasn’t just jealous of a dead man—now his envy extended to Thai food, too.
“Make yourself comfortable while I order one of everything.”
She laughed and said, “Sounds great,” but she never left the window the entire time he was on the phone. Gabe knew without a doubt just how much she must miss being up high enough to see out over the city as she had in the apartment that had burned down.
He hung up the phone and she was still so mesmerized by the lights of the city that she didn’t notice him put a couple of glasses of red wine on a nearby bookshelf.
A minute later he said, “Excuse me.”
Megan was clearly shocked to see him holding a large overstuffed chair over his head. “What are you doing with that?”
“Hoping to make you more comfortable,” he said as he slowly lowered it to the floor. And also, maybe showing off a bit, he had to admit to himself as her eyes traveled across his biceps, which were now bulging from lifting the heavy chair.
He reached for her hand. “Sit with me.”
“The chair isn’t big enough for the both of us,” she protested, but he already had her half on his lap and his arm around her waist.
“Feels like just the right size to me.”
God, he loved the way she smelled, like a field of blooming flowers topped off with a hint of sweet female arousal.
“Gabe, we shouldn’t—”
“Don’t worry,” he murmured against her ear, “I’m not going to break my promise.”
Did she know just how disappointed she looked as she turned her face away from his to look out the window once more? Gabe made sure to hide his grin from her as he reached over to the bookshelf for the wine and handed her a glass.
“Sullivan Winery’s finest.”
She took it from him and inhaled with pleasure. “In the interest of full disclosure, I feel that I should tell you I was already a fan of Marcus’s wines before we met.”
“It’s good stuff,” he agreed.
She nodded, then said, “And I know I haven’t met him, but your other brother Smith—” She stopped suddenly, as if she’d just realized she shouldn’t say any more. “Never mind.” She took a sip of Cabernet. “This is yummy.”
“What about Smith? You also want me to know how much you love his movies?”
She licked her lips and shrugged. “You’ve got to admit they’re all pretty good.” She stopped again, took another sip of her wine. “Just like this wine.” She pointed out the window. “Hey, isn’t that the baseball stadium over there?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re a baseball fan, too, aren’t you?”
“Blame Summer,” she said, giving him her most innocent look. “Her father used to take her to games when she was a baby and she’s loved it ever since. She was really thrilled about meeting Ryan at your mother’s party. He’s her favorite pitcher.”
Why did he have to have so many brothers? The stem of his wine glass almost shattered beneath his irritated grip.
Megan’s eyes were dancing as she pointed to the huge picture of an African sunrise on the wall. “I have to ask—did Chase take that?”
“Yes.” The word came out more clipped than he intended it to.
That was when he caught her smiling over the rim of her glass and realized that any illusion he’d ever had of being in charge of their evening was just that—an illusion.
Because in a matter of sentences, Megan had him right where she wanted him: acting like a jealous idiot.
Again.
Wanting a little retribution, he pulled her closer to him, her back pressed into his chest. “I’m glad you’re here, Megan.”
She was stiff against him for a few seconds and he thought she might actually push away from him. But then, he felt her settle against him, the top of her head against his chin.
“I am, too.”
* * *
Gabe could have sat there with her all night in perfect silence and watched the lights turn off and on all across the city. Because even though he was holding onto his control by a very thin thread with her soft curves pressing into his hips, Gabe had never been so comfortable with another person. Not even his family.
Too bad the Thai delivery person wouldn’t stop ringing the damn doorbell.
Megan didn’t look any happier about it than he did. “I guess one of us should get that.”
He didn’t kiss her, but he did bury his face in her hair for a split second before putting his hands on her waist and lifting her off his lap. “You get the door. I’ll grab some plates.”
God, she was gorgeous as she moved across the room and chatted with the young man—who also couldn’t take his eyes off her. Gabe had been with plenty of women who knew exactly what they were doing around men, women who “worked it.”