Helen Lacey - Once Upon a Bride

“Because?”

“Because it was broken,” he replied, watching her temper flare as the seconds ticked by. And broken things should be fixed. He’d spent most of his adult life fixing things. Fixing people. But she didn’t know that. And he wasn’t about to tell her. “No point risking more splinters.”

“I liked my gate how it was,” she said, hands still on hips.

Gabe raised a brow. “Really?”

She scowled. “Really.”

“You’re mad at me because I repaired your gate?”

“I’m mad at you because it wasn’t your gate to repair. I don’t need anyone to fix things. I don’t need a white knight, okay?”

A white knight? Yeah, right. But there was an edge of vulnerability in her voice that stopped him from smiling. Was she broken? Was that part of what drew him to her? Like meets like? He knew she was divorced, and at her brother’s wedding she’d admitted her marriage hadn’t been a happy one. But Gabe didn’t want to speculate. And he didn’t want to ask. The less he knew, the better.

“Okay,” he said simply.

For a moment, he thought she might argue some more. Instead, she dropped her gaze and asked an obvious question. “What happened to your shoe?”

He glanced down. The back of his left sneaker was torn and the lace was missing. “Jed.”

She looked up again, and he saw her mouth curve. “Was that the only damage?”

“Other than chewing my car keys and making a run for it whenever he got the chance.”

She moaned softly. “Sorry about that. I’ll get Cameron to replace them when he gets back.”

Gabe shrugged. “No need. It’s only a shoe.”

She nodded, turned and walked back around the hedge. Gabe shook his shoulders and made a concerted effort to forget all about her.

And failed.

* * *

I really need to stop reacting like that.

Lauren was still thinking it forty minutes later when she emerged from the shower and pulled on frayed gray sweats. Her reaction, or rather her overreaction, to Gabe’s news about the fence was amplified by his interference with her gate.

She didn’t want him fixing things.

Lauren didn’t want any man fixing things.

It was a road she’d traveled before. She knew what she wanted and white knights need not apply. Her ex-husband had tried to fix things—to fix her—and it had ended in disaster.

James Wallace had ridden into her life in his carpenter’s truck, all charm and good looks. He’d arrived at The Wedding House to make repairs to the changing rooms, and she’d been unexpectedly drawn to his blatant flirting. An hour later, she’d accepted his invitation to go out with him that night. They ended up at a local bistro for drinks and then dinner, and by midnight he’d kissed her in the car park, and she was halfway in lust with him.

Three months later, she had a fairy-tale wedding.

Even though it was the wedding she’d planned to have to someone else.

To Tim. Sweet, handsome Tim Mannering. Her first love. Her only love. He had been her college boyfriend and the man she’d intended to marry. They’d made plans for the future. They’d talked about everything from building their dream home, taking an African-safari vacation, to how many kids they would have. They’d loved one another deeply and promised each other the world.

Except Tim had died three weeks before their wedding.

And Lauren walked down the aisle with another man less than two years later.

She swallowed the tightness in her throat. Thinking about Tim still filled her with sadness. And she was sad about James, too. She should never have married him. She hadn’t loved him. They’d shared a fleeting attraction that had faded just months into their marriage. They’d had little in common and very different dreams. Within a year, James was gone, tired of what he called her cold, unfeeling heart. And Lauren was alone once more.

But she still hoped to share her life with someone. And she wanted the children she’d planned for since the day she and Tim had become engaged. Only next time, Lauren was determined to go into it with her eyes wide-open and not glazed over by romantic illusions. What she’d had with James wasn’t enough. And what she’d had with Tim had left her broken inside. Now all she wanted was the middle road. Just mutual respect, trust and compatibility. No fireworks. No deep feelings. Lust was unreliable. Love was painful when lost.

There was nothing wrong with settling. Nothing at all. Settling was safe. All she had to do was remember what she wanted and why. And forget all about Gabe Vitali and his glittering blue eyes and broad shoulders. Because he was pure heartbreak material. And her heart wasn’t up for grabs.

Not now.

Not ever again.

Chapter Three

Gabe went to his cousin’s for dinner Wednesday night and expected the usual lecture about his life. Scott Jones was family and his closest friend, and even though he knew the other man’s intentions were born from a sincere interest in his well-being, Gabe generally pulled no punches when it came to telling his cousin to mind his own business.

Scott’s wife, Evie, was pure earth mother. She was strikingly attractive and possessed a calm, generous spirit. Gabe knew his cousin was besotted with his wife and baby daughter, and he was genuinely happy for him.

“How’s the house coming along?” Scott asked over a beer while Evie was upstairs putting little Rebecca down for the night.

Gabe pushed back in the kitchen chair. “Fine.”

“Will you stay there permanently?”

“I doubt it,” he replied.

“Still can’t see you renovating the place yourself,” Scott said, and grinned.

Gabe frowned. “I can fix things.”

Like Lauren’s gate, which hadn’t gone down so well. He should have left it alone. But she’d hurt herself on the thing and he didn’t want that happening again. There was no harm in being neighborly.

“Job still working out?”

Gabe shrugged one shoulder. “Sure.”

Scott grinned again. “And how’s it going with your next-door neighbor?”

He knew his cousin was fishing. He’d told him a little about the incident at the wedding, and Scott knew he’d bought the house next door. Clearly, he’d told him too much. “Fine.”

“I like Lauren,” Scott said, and smiled.

Gabe didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. His cousin spoke again.

“You do, too, judging by the look on your face.”

Gabe didn’t flinch. “You know my plans. They haven’t changed.”

“Your five-year plan?” Scott’s eyes widened. “Still think you can arrange life to order?” He looked to the ceiling, clearly thinking about his family upstairs. “No chance.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

It sounded good, at least. Pity he didn’t quite believe it.

“You know she’s divorced?” Scott asked.

“Yes.”

Scott nodded. “Evie knows more about it than I do. And, of course, about the other guy.”

His head came up. The other guy? “I don’t—”

“He died about five years ago,” his cousin said, and drank some beer. “They were engaged, that’s all I know.”

Gabe’s insides contracted. So she’d lost someone. And married someone else. The wrong someone else. It explained the haunted, vulnerable look shading her brown eyes. But he didn’t want to know any more. Hadn’t he already decided the less he knew, the better?

“Not my business.”

Scott’s eyebrows shot up. “So no interest at all?”

He shrugged again. “No.”

Scott chuckled. “You’re a lousy liar.”

I’m a great liar. His whole life was a lie. Gabe stood and scraped the chair back. “Thanks for the beer.”

He left shortly after, and by the time he pulled into his own driveway, it was past ten o’clock. There were lights on next door, and when he spotted a shadowy silhouette pass by the front window, Gabe fought the way his stomach churned thinking about her. He didn’t want to be thinking, imagining or anything else. Lauren Jakowski was a distraction he didn’t need.

And he certainly didn’t expect to find her on his doorstep at seven the next morning.

But there she was. All perfection and professionalism in her silky blue shirt and knee-length black skirt. Once he got that image clear in his head, Gabe noticed she wasn’t alone. Jed sat on his haunches at her side.

“Am I stretching the boundaries of friendship?” she asked, and held out the lead.

He nodded. Were they friends now? No. Definitely not. “Absolutely.”

She chewed at her bottom lip. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

Gabe shrugged. “What’s the big emergency?”

She exhaled heavily. “He chewed off a piece of my sofa and broke the table in the living room when I left him home on Tuesday. Then he terrorized my parents’ cat when I left him there yesterday. Mary-Jayne said she’d take him tomorrow and Saturday. She’s got a fully enclosed yard and a dog, which will keep him company. But today I’m all out of options. I can’t take him to the store and...and...I don’t know what else to do.”

Her frustration was clear, and Gabe knew he’d give her exactly what she wanted. Because saying no to Lauren was becoming increasingly difficult. “Okay.”

“O-okay?” she echoed hesitantly.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Relief flooded her face. “Thanks. I...I owe you for this.”

Gabe shrugged again. He didn’t want her owing him anything. Owing could lead to collecting...and that was out of the question. “No problem,” he said, and took the lead.

“So dinner?” she asked and took a step back. “Tonight. I’ll cook. My way of saying thanks.”

His back straightened. “You don’t need to—”

“I insist,” she said quickly, and then looked as though she was itching to get away. “Say, seven o’clock?”

She left, and Gabe didn’t go back inside until she disappeared around the hedge.

* * *

Dinner. Great idea. Not.

What were you thinking?

Lauren spent the day chastising herself and making sure she didn’t let on to her mother that she’d somehow invited Gabe into the inner sanctum of her house, her kitchen and her solitary life. But she’d made the offer and it was too late to back out now. Besides, he was doing her a favor looking after the dog. Dinner really was the least she could do in return. He’d helped her out, and it was her way of saying thank-you. It was nothing. Just a simple meal between neighbors.

Only, simple seemed at odds with the way her nerves rattled just thinking about it.

She stopped by the supermarket on the way home, and by the time she pulled into the driveway, it was nearly six. She jumped into the shower, dried off, applied a little makeup and changed into loose-fitting cargo pants and a red knit top. By six-thirty she was in the kitchen marinating steaks and prepping a salad. And ignoring the knot in the pit of her stomach as best she could.

The doorbell rang at exactly seven o’clock.

Jed rushed down the hallway the moment she opened the door, clearly eager to get to his food bowl in the laundry.

“Hi,” she said, and stepped back.

“Hi, yourself,” Gabe said as he crossed the threshold.

He closed the door, and she didn’t linger. Instead, she pivoted on her heels and headed back to the kitchen. By the time she’d made her way back behind the countertop, he was by the door, watching her. She looked up and met his gaze. He looked so good in his jeans and navy T-shirt, her breath stuck in her throat. She noticed a tattoo braid that encircled one biceps peeking out from the edge of his sleeve. She’d never liked ink much, but it suited him. It was sexy. Everything about Gabe was sexy. His broad shoulders, black hair, dazzling blue eyes... The combination was devastating. And dangerous.