“And is that fate or the truth?”
“Maybe it’s one and the same,” Delaney offers. “Maybe it was fate that you weren’t supposed to see him again then, and just as fate took the form of a lost ring one day for Nicole, it became a broken phone for you and Gabriel.”
“Does that mean his broken phone plus mine that no longer worked were the signs we weren’t meant to meet again then…or also now? Or does that mean fate has taken the form of a picnic in the park this time around, with no other restaurant available but his?”
Delaney’s lips quirk up. “I guess it’s up to you to find out if he’s back in your life for a reason.”
* * * *
Tonight is for red wine and dark corners.
With red velvet curtains lining the walls, and dark, smoky lighting, the club in SoHo where the band plays is sultry and seductive. The musicians are magnetic, and the lead singer’s voice could melt chocolate. The name cracks me up, though—Pizza for Breakfast.
“How did you hear about them?” I ask Gabriel during a short break in between sets. His hands have been on me all night. On my waist. Along my arms. In my hair. Have I mentioned this hands-on tactic of his has me all worked up? It’s as if the dial has been switched to high, and I’m buzzed from his touch.
“My neighbor loves them,” he answers. “She used to play cello for symphonies around the world, and now she’s one of those people who finds cool new music.”
“She sounds like my kind of person. Because I’m loving these guys.” I finish the last of my wine and stretch my arm to the bar to set the glass down.
Gabriel slinks his arm tighter around my shoulders and tugs me closer. “Two out of three tonight isn’t bad.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Two out of three what?”
“Your favorite things. Wine, music, and dogs.” He pauses, then adds. “But let’s not forget your extra one. Dessert.”
Tingles swoop from my chest down my belly, like a comet flashing across the night sky, simply because he listened. Because he remembered. “Maybe I’ll have dessert later. Now, if this club would just have puppies for cuddling, the Den would be perfect,” I joke.
He laughs. “We’ll have to tell management your idea.”
He drops a quick kiss on my neck that makes me shudder. I angle my face so our mouths meet, whispering more, before I brush my lips across his. He murmurs softly, and that sound turns into a low rumble I can feel in his chest as I deepen the kiss. A thrill streaks through me, and this time it comes from his reaction. From knowing that I’ve done this to him.
In some ways it feels like no time has passed with Gabriel. Here we are again, wrapped up in each other. The physical part is as easy as it was when we first met, the chemistry as electric and instant as the first day.
And yet, a decade has come between us, and as much as I want to spend the night getting more hands-on, I want to know this man better too.
Somehow I manage to break the kiss, and he lets out a playful whimper. “That was terribly unfair to tease me like that,” he says, running his hands down my arms and setting them on my hips.
“Tell me your three things,” I say, tapping his chest. “Your proof points that the world can be a happy place.”
“Let’s see,” he begins, staring at the ceiling, and his accent thickens. It makes me wonder if he thinks in Portuguese, or if he maybe dreams in that language or another. If his mind reverts to the first languages he heard and spoke when he’s deep in thought or sinking far into pleasure. That makes me wonder, too, if he still comes in French, like he did before. It was quite possibly one of the hottest things about him, how he’d moan and groan dirty words in his native tongue when he neared the edge. I brush aside my naughty thoughts to listen to his response as he meets my eyes again. “First, I would have to say beautiful tattoos.”
“Yours are beautiful. You have new ones on your arms,” I say, running my fingers along his ink-covered forearm. Then I drag my fingertip across a dark black line. “This tribal band? When did you get it?”
“Several years ago. It means family.”
I smile softly. “Perfect,” I say, thinking of how he supports his parents now. “I think it’s incredible that you can take care of your family.”
“It’s a gift. I’m lucky to be able to do so.”
“And this one?” I outline a circular design.
“The sun. For destiny. I had it done shortly after you left. It was my reminder to stay focused. That even when things were falling apart, I needed to still believe in my future.”
“You had faith.”
“I did. In many things.”
“Okay, we’ve got beautiful tattoos. What are your other proof points?” I say, returning to the question.
“The second one would have to be traveling to new places. Exploring new towns or cities. Getting to know a culture or a people.”
It’s as if he’s speaking my language, because I love those, too. “Yes. It’s such a rush, isn’t it?”
“Completely.” He takes a deep breath. “And let’s see. A third thing…” He tilts his head, as if he’s studying me. When he raises his right hand to softly brush my hair from my face, it feels as if he’s finding the answer in me. His voice drops lower, his gaze full of intent. “Your eyes.”
“Oh stop,” I say, blushing as my skin sizzles from his sweet words.