New Year, New Love Read online

  His purr started up, a heavy, squeaky rumble that sounded like a rusty motor.

  “I know you don’t believe me,” she said, folding her arms against the chill that seeped in through the glass. “But I know those girls, and I know something’s wrong.”

  He stood on his hind legs and propped his front paws against the legs of her jeans. Murowww.

  She scooped him up and scratched behind his ears. He leaned into her hand and purred louder.

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just imagining it.” Frowning, she turned away from the window. But she couldn’t make herself grade another paper. She couldn’t think.

  Gabe pounded nails into boards. Her head pounded in rhythm. No wonder she couldn’t concentrate. She longed for a hot bath filled with scented bubbles, candles surrounding the tub, and a good novel. But the thought of taking a bath with Gabe in the house made her uncomfortable.

  Not that she worried he’d come looking for her while she was relaxing—he’d been working on her basement off and on for nearly two weeks and had managed to completely resist her charms so far—but she still couldn’t stop thinking about him. And those thoughts came at the oddest times. During class. While she fixed dinner. She kept waiting for him to do or say something macho and obnoxious. Something playboyish that would make her dislike him; instead, she found him more attractive every day.

  But this kind of thinking was ridiculous. She needed to get him off her mind for a little while. Maybe she should see if Adelle wanted to meet for lunch. A couple of hours not listening to Gabe working, not watching him haul boxes of supplies down the stairs, not listening to him whistle to the songs on the radio might do her a world of good.

  She’d clear the walks and driveway first, then call Adelle. She was eager to try the used snowblower she’d bought last week. It should make the job much quicker.

  After bundling up to face the weather, she stepped outside into the garage. But there, she stopped in her tracks and stared at the mounds of snow blocking the driveway. She hadn’t realized how heavily it had been snowing. She wondered if her little snowblower would be able to churn through it.

  Well, there was only one way to find out. She spent a few minutes studying the owners’ manual, plugged the cord into the electrical outlet and tried to start the machine. The motor clicked a couple of times, but it didn’t turn over. She gave it another try, and a third. Still nothing. Not even a sputter.

  She stepped away from the machine and studied it as if she’d be able to see the problem from a distance. But, predictably—since she knew next to nothing about mechanical things—distance didn’t help. Scowling, she moved closer again and bent to depress the throttle once more just as the garage door opened behind her.

  Gabe smiled when he saw her and shrugged into his jacket. “Trouble?”

  His smile sent tingling warmth rushing through her, but she tried not to let him see her reaction. “A little, but I’m sure I’ll get it going.”

  “Have you ever had trouble with it before?”

  “This is the first time I’ve tried to use it.” She propped her hands on her hips and glared at the machine, as if that might get it running.

  Gabe hunkered down beside it. “Mind if I take a look?”

  Did she mind? Was he kidding? His thigh brushed her shin briefly, but she stepped away, motioning him closer. “Be my guest. Please.”

  He tried starting the machine, unplugged the power cord and tinkered with something on the motor. Still no luck. Scowling slightly, he pulled a rubber cap off the spark plug and inspected it.

  Sharon found herself watching the play of his shoulders beneath his jacket and the surprising dexterity of his large hands as he poked and prodded inside the motor.

  After several minutes, he shook his head in resignation. “You’ve got a problem here I can’t fix.”

  “Do you have any idea what it is?”

  “Could be the carburetor. Or the starter motor. Either way, you’re going to have to take it somewhere for repairs—unless you know how to work on motors yourself.”

  She shook her head quickly. “I’m not much of a mechanic.”

  He sent her a lopsided smile that made her heart stutter. “Let me help you get it to a shop. There’s a good one I use that’s not far from here. We can take it in my truck.”

  Out of long habit, she shook her head. She was used to relying on herself and the idea of accepting help made her nervous. “I don’t want to put you out.”

  “You won’t be. It’ll be much easier to let me take it in the truck, than to stuff it into your trunk. Besides—” he shifted his gaze to the driveway “—your car’s pretty low to the ground. You’d probably get stuck somewhere on the side of the road.”

  That convinced her. “Thank you. It’s very nice of you to help.”

  He smiled again. “I told you about my mother—”

  She laughed softly. “Oh, yes. Well, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” She hurried inside and grabbed her purse. By the time she came back through the garage, he’d loaded the machine in the truck and cleared a few feet of snow from the driveway.

  When she saw what he’d done, she stopped in her tracks. “You don’t need to do that,” she protested lamely.

  “I don’t mind. Of course, if you’d rather do it—”

  “I wouldn’t,” she admitted.

  He grinned again. “Call it a favor. I’ll be glad to finish when we come back.” He left the shovel in the garage and led her through the snow to the truck. “I hope you don’t mind if I stop somewhere while we’re out for something to eat.”

  “No,” she assured him quickly. “Of course I don’t mind.”

  “What about you?” he asked as he opened the truck’s door for her. “Have you had lunch yet?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Well, then, we ought to get lunch together. How about the Blue Iguana?”

  “The Blue Iguana?” She loved the restaurant, but she’d assumed they’d pick up burgers at some fast-food joint, not share a real meal together inside a restaurant.

  “It’s nearby, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Only a few blocks away.”

  “But is the Blue Iguana okay with you? Or would you rather eat somewhere else?”

  Was he real? So seldom during her years with Nick had he deferred to her choice about anything that she’d forgotten what it felt like to be consulted. Slowly, she released the death grip she had on her coat collar and smiled. “The Blue Iguana sounds great. It’s one of my favorite restaurants.”

  “Really?” That smile crossed his face again, then disappeared. “Maybe it’s not a good idea after all. I’m not exactly dressed to go out.”

  Sharon looked at his clothes. “You look fine to me. The Blue Iguana’s pretty casual.”

  He seemed surprised. “You don’t mind being seen with someone in old work clothes?”

  The question caught her off guard. “Why should I?”

  He studied her with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coat and told herself to grow up. She was a woman, for heaven’s sake, not a teenager. She could ride in the cute guy’s truck and even have lunch with him without losing her cool. She could ignore the butterflies in her stomach and the sudden, incessant pounding of her heart. She could even spend an hour in his company without dreaming of a future with him.

  At least, that’s what she told herself.

  WITH GABE ONLY half a step behind her, Sharon followed the restaurant hostess to a window booth. Outside, the wind tossed bits of snow against the window. Inside, heated air took away some of the chill, and the spicy scent of food and Mexican folk music on the loudspeakers helped her relax.

  So far, she hadn’t been nearly as uncomfortable as she’d expected. Gabe had chatted easily about the weather, a news report they’d heard over the radio and his work on the basement. By the time they’d dropped off the snowblower and pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot, she’d
put her earlier discomfort firmly behind her, and she intended to keep it there.

  As they settled into seats across the table from each other, she reminded herself once again for good measure. This was lunch—nothing more. Two adults, both of whom needed to eat, sitting at the same table.

  Gabe pulled two menus from a rack near the window and handed one to Sharon. “It smells good in here, doesn’t it?”

  Sharon nodded. “Yes it does. I love their food.”

  “Do you know what you want, or do you need a minute to look at the menu?”

  “Oh, I know what I want,” she said with a smile. “Everything they serve is good, but I have my favorite.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Cheese enchiladas made with flour tortillas.” Sharon let her smile relax a bit further and waved her hand as if he’d offered an argument. “I know. They’re full of fat and cholesterol, but they’re wonderful.”

  Gabe laughed softly and rested one arm along the back of the bench. “So are the smothered burritos.”

  “Your favorites?”

  “I order them every time,” he admitted. “Does that make me sound boring?”

  “If it does,” she said, “I’m boring, too.”

  Gabe looked at his menu. “Maybe I should order something different, like a tostada or a taco.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Or I could really live it up and order a combination plate.”

  Sharon put one hand to her chest in mock horror. “Don’t you think a combination plate is a bit extreme? I’d hate for you to go overboard.”

  Gabe’s lips curved in a lazy smile. “Okay. I’ll play it safe. Two smothered burritos, one soft-shell taco. Now, what about you? Are you going to take a risk?”

  She shook her head quickly. “Not me. One cheese enchilada is all I’ll be able to eat.”

  “Only one?” He looked genuinely shocked.

  “Yes, but usually I order three just so I can take the leftovers home. Emilee and Christa tease me about it all the time.”

  “So, you come here a lot?”

  “Fairly often. Probably more often than we should.”

  He leaned back while their server put tortilla chips and salsa on the table, then recited both orders for the young man.

  “We’d like separate checks,” Sharon added when he’d finished.

  Gabe glanced quickly at her, then back at the waiter who hovered near Gabe’s shoulder as if he needed Gabe to confirm her request. Gabe nodded and returned his attention to Sharon, continuing their conversation as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “Have you lived in the area long?”

  “About ten years,” she said, then added, “My ex-husband and I bought the house together. It’s a big old thing, and it needs lots of work, but the girls and I love it.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “How long have you been divorced?”

  “Five years.”

  “It’s been two for me.” His expression altered subtly.

  Sharon wondered what had happened to his marriage, but she wouldn’t let herself ask. Instead, she spent a few seconds adjusting her sweater over her lap. She glanced up again and caught Gabe watching her.

  He worked up another smile, but this one lacked that appeal that had thrown her for such a loop at home. “You and your daughters seem to have a good relationship.”

  “I suppose we do.”

  “You suppose? I hear you laughing together a lot.” The eyebrow arched again and teased an answering smile from her.

  “All right,” she conceded. “Yes. We’re close.”

  “I could tell. It must be nice.” He sounded almost wistful. “I wish I had that kind of relationship with my daughter.”

  “You have a daughter?” She tempered the surprise in her voice with another smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a father.”

  “I am. Her name’s Tracy. She’s fifteen, and she lives in Oregon with her mother.”

  “You aren’t close to your daughter?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked out the window. “Too much distance.”

  “That shouldn’t make any difference.”

  Gabe snapped his gaze back to hers. “It’s not easy maintaining a relationship long-distance, no matter who it’s with. And with kids, it’s especially hard.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said anything. But I do know how much Emilee and Christa miss their dad, and how glad they are to hear from him when he calls.”

  Gabe looked interested. “Does he call them often?”

  “About once a month, but it’s still not enough. I wish I could make him understand how much they need him, but he only seems interested in his new life.”

  “Maybe he’s afraid to call more often than that,” Gabe said with a shrug.

  “Why would he be afraid to call?”

  “I’d say that depends on whether or not the two of you get along. I’d call Tracy a lot more often if I didn’t have to fight with Helene every time I try.”

  “Tracy doesn’t have a cell phone?”

  “She does, but Helene tears a strip out of me when I call that number because of the charges to her account, even when I offer to pay for them. No matter what I say it always ends in an argument.” He scooped salsa onto a chip. “In fact, I was yelling at my ex-wife when you came downstairs the other day.”

  So it hadn’t been a current girlfriend. The news shouldn’t please her but it did. An awkward smile tugged at her lips. She bit it back, but not soon enough.

  “I guess you’re wondering about what you overheard.”

  “No.” She jerked back in her seat, nearly overturning her water glass as she did.

  “You’re not even curious?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  That brought a laugh from him. He stopped as their server approached carrying hot plates of food. When he’d walked away again, Gabe said softly, “You’re not a very good liar. You know that, don’t you?”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  He laughed again, softer this time. Kinder. “Well, just for the record, I don’t date that much. I don’t even know why I said that to her.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

  “I’d like to. Believe me, I was as embarrassed as you were by that argument.” He took a bracing swig of Tecata and shifted in his seat. “Actually, we were talking about some problems Tracy’s been having and I asked whether there were boys involved. Helene said she’d know if there were—I accused her of not knowing anything about Tracy, and the whole thing disintegrated from there.”

  That sounded as unreasonable and ridiculous as some of the arguments she’d had with Nick.

  “So you see,” he said, forking a bite of burrito and chile verde, “I’m not exactly a player, even though I tried to convince my ex-wife that I am. I’m not that kind of guy.”

  She nearly dropped her fork. “I didn’t for one minute think—”

  “You never know,” he said with a teasing smile. “Some women think all men are dogs.”

  “I don’t happen to be one of those women.”

  “Anyway, I had no business bringing that into your home. I should have ended the conversation when I realized she wanted to argue.”

  “If you can do that, you’re superhuman. Even after five years, I find myself arguing with Nick. And the strange thing is, they’re old arguments about things that don’t even matter anymore.”

  Gabe took a bite of his taco and chewed slowly. “That sounds fun.”

  “Oh, believe me, it is.” Sharon went on, more than a little surprised by her willingness to discuss something so personal, “Nick’s remarried. He’s got a new family. What happened between us is so irrelevant to either of our lives, I don’t know why we get caught up in it every time we talk.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  She took a bite of enchilada. “The trouble is, once you have children, the other parent is always a part of your life. You
can’t get rid of them.”

  “No matter how much you might want to.” His smile faded, and he studied her with an expression she’d never seen on his face before. “So, why is it you’ve never married again?”

  The question caught Sharon off guard. She lowered her fork to the table. “I’m not interested in getting married again.”

  “Why not?”

  She decided to turn the tables on him. “Why aren’t you married again?”

  He shrugged as if he didn’t mind the question. “I’m not good at the whole family scene. Dinner at six. Meat loaf every Monday. Falling asleep to some late-night talk show.”

  “When you put it that way, it does sound boring. But it doesn’t have to be that way, you know.”

  “You haven’t answered my question. Why aren’t you interested?”

  “Because I lost part of myself in my marriage to Nick, and I’m not willing to do that again. I don’t want to take the risk until I really know who I am and what I want.”

  Gabe held her gaze. “It doesn’t have to be that way, either.”

  “Maybe not,” she said doubtfully.

  He studied her for a moment. “After five years alone, do you know who you are?”

  “I’m getting closer.”

  He laughed and lifted his glass. “Here’s to figuring out who you are and what you really want.”

  She lifted her own glass to meet his, amazed at how easily she could talk to him. She could almost believe his claim that he wasn’t a playboy.

  As she lowered her glass, the cell phone in her purse let out a muffled ring. Instinct told her to ignore it. She didn’t want anyone or anything to interrupt the moment. But Gabe would wonder why she didn’t answer. Besides, only a few people had her cell number, and two of them were in school.

  She answered, fully expecting to hear Adelle’s voice on the other end. Instead, a strange man’s voice greeted her.

  He identified himself as Norman Taylor, the nurse at the high school, and said, “Your daughter, Emilee, is in my office. She says she’s sprained her ankle and needs you to come and get her.”

  The glow she’d been feeling faded. “How badly is she hurt?”