New Year, New Love Read online

  Smiling for the first time in over an hour, Gabe crossed the narrow room and perched on the stool beside him. Jesse’s bushy black eyebrows formed an almost solid ridge over his eyes and a grizzled beard all but hid his pudgy face. He still wore his work clothes—paint-encrusted jeans, paint-dappled work boots and a T-shirt that had started life black, but was now covered with white splotches.

  Jesse grinned when he saw him, but his smile faded almost immediately. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a date with what’s-her-name.”

  “I did.” Gabe shouted to be heard over the music. “It wasn’t going well, so we decided to call it a night.”

  Jesse nodded as if that didn’t surprise him at all. He knew Gabe almost as well as Gabe knew himself. They’d seen each other through the worst parts of their lives.

  Not for the first time, Gabe wondered how Natasha would react to Jesse. Even his name— Jesse James MacNamara—would probably set her teeth on edge. But, then, Jesse probably wouldn’t like Natasha, either. Gabe motioned for Ringo, the bartender, to bring him a beer.

  Jesse took a swig of his beer and managed to keep someone on the other side of him from jostling his arm. “So, when do I get to meet her?”

  “After tonight?” Gabe asked. “Probably never.”

  Jesse lowered his bottle to the bar and wrapped his hands around it. “Why not? You have a fight with her or something?”

  Gabe gave a brittle laugh but the sound was swallowed up by a burst of laughter from the crowd. “You could say that.”

  “She involved with some other guy?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” Gabe raked his fingers through his hair and took a long drink from his own bottle. The cold beer traced a path to his stomach and brought out a contented sigh. The contentment faded again almost immediately. “It’s my fault, I guess. The whole evening was a disaster from start to finish. I was late picking her up, and she didn’t let me forget about it all through dinner—which, by the way, was at La Fleur de Lys.”

  Jesse’s eyes widened.

  “Then,” Gabe went on, “she wanted to go dancing at the Rooftop.”

  “No kidding? What did you tell her your last name was? Rockefeller?”

  “I think that’s what she heard,” Gabe said, enjoying the sympathetic ear. “All that was bad enough, but when she asked me to go shopping on Saturday, I lost it.”

  “Shopping? For you or for her?”

  “For me.” Another shout from the crowd made conversation almost impossible. Gabe waited for the noise to die away. “She found a suit at Nordstrom she wants me to buy.”

  Jesse’s eyes rounded for a second, then narrowed into beady slits. “How long’ve you been seeing her?”

  “A little over two months.”

  “And she’s starting with the shopping thing already?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s a dangerous sign, buddy.” Jesse nudged him with an elbow. “She must have decided you’re marriage material.”

  Gabe shook his head quickly. “Not me. I’m not interested in getting married again. Once was enough.”

  “For me, too. But women never believe it when you tell them that. I think they take it as a challenge. Once they find a man they think can be fixed up, they just start making their list of renovations—”

  “Yeah? Well, I don’t want to be fixed up. I like myself the way I am.”

  Jesse grinned at him and rotated toward the crowd on his bar stool. “You look just fine to me.”

  Gabe barely held back an answering smile and kept his voice purposely gruff. “That’s the best argument for buying that suit I’ve heard yet.”

  “Maybe you should let her do what Nicole wanted me to do,” Jesse said, stretching one arm along the bar to grab a handful of roasted peanuts. “Let her take you in for one of those whatchamacallits.” He waved the peanuts around as if they might help him find the right word. “One of those makeovers.”

  “A makeover? Are you serious?”

  “Yeah.” Jesse patted his round stomach and stretched out the hem of his splotched T-shirt. “I don’t need one, of course. I wouldn’t want to tamper with perfection. But I suppose you could use a little fixing up.”

  “You just said I look fine the way I am,” Gabe reminded him. “I’m doing okay.”

  “Sure you are.” Jesse put one hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “That’s why you’re sitting at the bar with me on New Year’s Eve.”

  He had a point. Gabe eyed him thoughtfully. “You know what we need to do? We need to start getting out and doing things again. We should plan a fishing trip, or go skiing, or…well, something.”

  “Sounds good to me, but you’ll be back together with Natasha before the week’s out.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Then you’ll have someone new. It’s not as if you’re ever alone for long.”

  “I’m not that bad,” Gabe protested.

  “You’re not?” Jesse leaned back on the stool and pretended to be shocked. The music changed to something almost melancholy and the crowd quieted as if by magic. “Tell me, how many women have you broken up with since the divorce?”

  “I’m not counting.”

  “Well, I am. This makes ten. What you need is to find one who’s interested in the same kinds of things you are.”

  “What I need,” Gabe corrected, “is to forget about women completely for a while.”

  Jesse eyed him with obvious disbelief. “You?”

  “Yes, me.”

  “What? You going to spend the rest of your life alone?”

  “Maybe.”

  Jesse tilted back his head and laughed. “Get real, Gabe. This is me you’re talking to. You could no more spend your life a bachelor than I could dance in the ballet.”

  Gabe took a handful of peanuts for himself. “Then I suggest you start practicing.”

  “You’ve just had a few bad experiences. But not all women are like Helene or Natasha.”

  Without warning, Sharon Lawrence’s image appeared in front of him. Gabe blinked once. Twice. Forced the image aside.

  Jesse didn’t seem to notice anything. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and tossed money onto the bar. “I’ve got twenty bucks that says you’ll be back with Natasha or in a new relationship before the end of the week.”

  Gabe motioned for Ringo to bring them each another beer. “A week, a month, six months. It doesn’t matter. I’m through with women for a while.”

  “Okay, and I say you won’t last six months.”

  “I can do that without batting an eye,” Gabe assured him.

  “We’ll see, buddy. We’ll see.” Jesse took another handful of peanuts and dropped several into his mouth. “Let’s make it interesting—loser pays for a deep-sea fishing trip during the summer.”

  Gabe pushed away his second beer and stood. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and dropped enough to cover his tab and a tip onto the bar. “Then you’d better start saving your money.”

  “I might give you the same advice.” Jesse stuffed his change into his pocket. “Hold on a second. I’ll walk out with you.”

  “You’re not staying to see in the new year?”

  “Naw. I’m gonna get my sleep so I can party this summer.”

  They didn’t speak again until they’d stepped outside into the bitter chill of the night. There, Jesse shivered and looked up at the inky clouds in the black sky. “You driving?”

  Gabe shook his head. “I’ve had too much to drink. I think I’ll leave the truck here and come after it in the morning. What about you?”

  “I walked over. Figured I wouldn’t be in any shape to drive by the end of the night.” Jesse shivered again as they reached the edge of the parking lot. “You know, buddy, when all’s said and done, it must be nice to have a good woman to go home to at the end of the night.”

  Gabe battled an unexpected surge of loneliness and regret. He stiffened his shoulders and tugged his collar together. Ridiculous. He’d be far better off wit
hout a woman in his life. No pressure. No demands. No commitment.

  He glanced again at Jesse’s retreating figure. Six months, he told himself. He could do that standing on his head.

  DODGING STUDENTS as she walked, Sharon argued with herself all the way down the long, windowless corridor. She really shouldn’t do this, but questions had been niggling at her all weekend, and after Gabe’s call this morning, curiosity had gotten the better of her.

  She blamed Adelle for making her so aware of Gabe in the first place. If it hadn’t been for her friend’s dour predictions, Sharon wouldn’t have given the man or his laughing brown eyes a second thought.

  When he’d called earlier, they’d made an appointment for Saturday. All she had to do now was find out the skinny on him and put him out of her mind. An adoring wife, half a dozen loving children and maybe even a faithful dog should throw cold water on her overactive imagination.

  Luckily, she had a source of information handy. Pauline Horner, one of the senior faculty members, had recommended Malone Construction when Sharon first began looking for a contractor. Pauline and her husband had been friends with Gabe’s parents for years. If anyone could help Sharon put an end to these ridiculous thoughts, Pauline could.

  Still, she hesitated outside Pauline’s office. Maybe she should just forget it. Surely by Saturday she’d have better control over herself. Then again, she couldn’t remember when a man had captured her imagination like this. If she had to have Gabe Malone working in her house for the next few months, she’d be smart to nip this problem in the bud.

  She knocked resolutely on Pauline’s door and stepped inside when the older woman called for her to enter.

  “Sharon?” Pauline tugged off her glasses and let them dangle from a chain over her well-padded bosom. “This is a pleasant surprise. I thought you were one of my students.”

  Sharon’s resolve suddenly weakened. “If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

  “Not at all.” Pauline motioned across her cluttered desk toward an empty chair. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I—” Sharon broke off, dismally aware that she had no idea how to bring up the subject without being obvious. She sat, crossed her legs and uncrossed them again immediately. “I thought you’d like to know that I hired Malone Construction to finish my basement.”

  “You won’t be sorry. Harold Malone is as good as they come.”

  “Actually,” Sharon said casually, “his son is going to do the work. Do you know anything about him?” She felt her cheeks flame, and added quickly, “About the quality of his work, I mean.”

  “Gabriel?” Pauline bobbed her gray head enthusiastically. “Oh, sure. He’s very good. He’s been working with his dad for years. One of these days, if Harold ever retires, Gabriel will take over the business, I’m sure.”

  “Good. I just want to make sure I’m getting the best.”

  “Well, you are. Don’t worry about that for a second.” Pauline leaned back in her seat as if they’d exhausted the subject.

  But now that Sharon had started, she had to keep going. “He’s planning to start work this weekend.”

  “Oh? You’re lucky he can get to you so soon. I know they’re busy. Harold can’t do much of the heavy work himself these days, but Ina—Harold’s wife—tells me he hasn’t cut the workload at all. I understand he really keeps that boy hopping.”

  Boy? That’s the last word in the dictionary Sharon would use to describe Gabe. Those shoulders… The heat in her cheeks increased. “Do you think they’re too busy to take on the job? I mean, I’m sure Gabe has other obligations besides work…” She let her voice trail away, hoping Pauline would pick up the thread.

  “Oh, heavens no.” Pauline laughed at the idea. “If Harold takes on an obligation, he’ll make sure Gabriel honors it.” She paused, and Sharon feared she’d have to prod her again. But Pauline continued. “Between you, me and the fence post, Gabriel needs something to keep him busy.”

  Sharon squelched a flutter of anticipation. This was exactly what she wanted. Good old-fashioned gossip—for a purely innocent reason, of course. “I’m sure he has family to worry about.”

  “Well, there’s Harold and Ina, of course. And they all get together with Gabriel’s sister and her family once a month for dinner. Ina lives for those Sundays…”

  He came from a close family. Nice. But that only made him more appealing.

  “…but, of course, that wouldn’t keep Gabriel from working on your basement. And Ina tells me they’re trying to keep him busy. He’s been at loose ends since his divorce.” Divorce? No! “Oh. But I’m sure he has a girlfriend.”

  Pauline’s face creased in thought. “I don’t think there’s anybody special. At least no one that I’ve heard of. To tell you the truth, from what Ina says, I’m worried that he’s become a bit of a playboy.”

  A playboy. Sharon smiled in relief. That would do. With Gabe’s chiseled good looks, Sharon could easily believe that. And if she knew nothing else, she knew that she wasn’t going to waste time thinking about a man who kept more than one woman on a string.

  Pauline looked worried. “Is that a problem?”

  “No,” Sharon said quickly. “Not at all.”

  “Gabriel would never let his social life get in the way of work, my dear. Harold wouldn’t allow it.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Mind you, women probably find him attractive.

  He is a very good-looking man.”

  “Is he?” Sharon traced circles on the chair’s arm.

  “I didn’t notice.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “You know me,” Sharon said with a laugh. “I don’t pay attention.” She stood and managed a cheerful smile. “I’m not interested, Pauline. I just want to make sure I’ll get my money’s worth on the job, that’s all.”

  “Well, that’s good.” Pauline settled her glasses on her nose again. “Not that I don’t like Gabriel a great deal, but he isn’t your type.”

  “Yes. Well.” Sharon moved toward the door, desperate to escape before the conversation went any further. “Thanks for talking to me, Pauline. I won’t take up any more of your time.”

  “Not at all, my dear.” Pauline sent her a soothing smile. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy with Gabriel’s work.”

  Sharon stepped into the corridor again and closed Pauline’s door behind her. She walked slowly through the crowded hallways, assuring herself that what she’d just heard would keep her imagination under control. And she tried desperately to convince herself that it was relief and not disappointment that accompanied her down the hall.

  SATURDAY DAWNED cold and windy, and by early afternoon Sharon knew they were in for a major storm. She loaded groceries into the trunk while Christa held the shopping cart to keep the wind from blowing it away. She worked quickly, anxious to get out of the bitter cold, determined to finish this last chore and get home before Gabe arrived.

  Christa’s offer to help her with the shopping had surprised her. Usually, she shopped alone while the girls went to the mall or a movie with friends. But today, the sixteen-year-old had come to her room while she dressed, and had even offered suggestions about what she wore, her hair and her makeup. It had been a long time since they’d spent time alone together, but after today Sharon planned to do it more often.

  “Okay, that’s it,” she said, hefting the last two bags. “If you’ll take the cart back, I’ll scrape the windshield and warm up the car.”

  “Okay.” Christa’s breath formed soft clouds in the icy air. She backed up a few steps, then stopped. “I, uh…I forgot to tell you, I need to go to that office-supply store on University before we go home, okay?”

  Sharon closed the trunk and pulled her keys from her coat pocket. “Why? What do you need?”

  “Pens.”

  “We have dozens of pens at home,” Sharon reminded her.

  “Not the kind I need. It’s for a special project I’m doing for history.” A gust
of wind whipped past them, tousling Christa’s hair.

  Sharon shivered and pulled the collar of her coat close. “When is this project due?”

  “Monday.”

  “Monday?” Sharon let out a sigh of frustration. “I thought you’d stopped putting off assignments until the last minute.”

  “I have. Mrs. Wayman just gave it to us on Friday.”

  Sharon retrieved the ice scraper from the car and started working on the windshield. “And you need a special pen for it?” Teachers who gave assignments requiring an immediate outlay of cash always irritated her. Not that she couldn’t afford a pen, but she didn’t want to drive clear across town on icy roads to buy it. “What kind of assignment is it, and what kind of pen do you need?”

  “We have to draw a map, and I can’t remember what brand of pen it is, but Mrs. Wayman showed it to us. I’ll know it when I see it.”

  Sharon stopped scraping. “Okay, but why don’t we just buy it at the OfficeMax on the corner?”

  “We can’t. They don’t have them. But Mrs. Wayman says they have the pens at the store on University because my…um…my friend’s dad owns the store.”

  Confused, Sharon rounded the front of the car and started on the other side of the windshield. “I wish you’d mentioned this sooner. I have to be back to meet the contractor in less than an hour.”

  “Emilee’s home,” Christa reminded her. “She can let him in. Besides— Well, the truth is, I told Steve I’d meet him there. We’re supposed to work on the project together, and he’s helping his dad at the store today.” Christa sighed heavily. “It’s complicated, Mom. I can’t explain it.”

  Sharon sidestepped slush thrown by a passing car and gave up the argument. They’d had such a lovely time so far, she didn’t want to spoil it. “All right, I’ll take you there. But I don’t want to stay long.”

  “We won’t, Mom. I promise.” As Christa turned away with the cart, Sharon could have sworn she saw a flicker of triumph cross her daughter’s face. She pondered that while she scraped the rest of the windshield, decided she must be imagining things, and got under way a few minutes later.