Get out of here and go somewhere warm with a beach where dark rum flowed like water. He’d do it in a heartbeat if he hadn’t promised to spend Christmas with Jen’s sister and her family.
Pam and her husband, Will, had been lifesavers for Gabe during the brutal months of Matty’s extended hospitalization following the accident. They’d pitched in every possible way to help, and Gabe owed them. Pam and Jennifer had been closer than most sisters, and as a result, the two families had spent their Christmases together. When Pam called asking him to continue the tradition for at least this first tough holiday, he couldn’t refuse her, though no way on earth could he have joined his in-laws at their home. Instead, after an enthusiastic endorsement of the idea by Jack Davenport, he’d invited Pam and her family to join him at Eagle’s Way for Christmas, followed by a few days on the slopes at Crested Butte, going so far—in a moment of strength or weakness or idiocy, he wasn’t sure which—as to have the Christmas boxes from his attic at the house in Virginia sent to Colorado. Now, bombarded by red and green and Santa Claus and carols, he feared he’d made a big mistake.
Gabe completed his walk to Cavanaugh House and entered through the construction entrance in the back. Once again the boxer was there to greet him. The two of them had reached a compromise over the past week. Gabe allowed the dog to be underfoot at work, but he made certain he didn’t have a stowaway when he headed up Murphy Mountain at the end of the day. Apparently the animal spent his night at Nic’s.
This afternoon Gabe had decided to tackle the wallpaper in Celeste’s bedroom suite. It was a good time to do it, since she was away for the next three days on what she was calling her undercover trip to Sedona.
He plugged in his iPod earbuds and went to work stripping paper. It was a messy, tedious job, but he was glad to have the distraction. It took him most of the afternoon to remove the old paper and prep the walls, and as he stuffed scraps into big black trash bags, he heard the grandfather clock downstairs chime five o’clock. He eyed the rolls of new wallpaper—a vintage cabbage rose pattern that fit the house but made him wince—and debated whether to knock out a wall or two tonight or wait and do it all tomorrow. Before he could make up his mind, he turned toward the door at the sound of a knock.
Nic stood at the doorway. Forgoing her habitual ponytail, today her golden hair hung loose and flowing. She wore a long-sleeved, V-necked, forest-green sweater dress belted at the waist with a red Christmas-patterned silk sash. The knit fabric clung to her full breasts and hugged her slim hips. The modest hem hit just below her knees and covered the tops of brown leather dress boots that sported three-inch heels.
Gabe swallowed hard and took his earbuds out of his ears.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, smiling. She wore lipstick, bright red lipstick that matched her sash. “Gabe, when you reach a stopping point, could you lend me a hand? I think I might have located the rest of Elizabeth Blaine’s journals in a box in the basement, but I need a piece of furniture moved so I can get to it. Would you help me?”
He cleared his throat. “Uh … sure. Let me wash this old paste off my hands. I’ll meet you down there in a few.”
“Thanks!” She flashed him a smile, her eyes gleaming with pleasure, then spun on those heels and disappeared from view—leaving Gabe standing frozen in place, unaccountably warm, uneasy and … holy crap … turned on.
Guess it wasn’t broken after all.
SIX
Nic stubbornly refused to glance at her reflection as she crossed in front of the wall mirror on her way to the staircase leading to the basement. She refused to primp for him. Or flirt with him. He might be the hottest thing in a tool belt this side of the Continental Divide, but too bad, so sad for her. The man made it clear he wasn’t interested.
Oh, she’d caught him looking a time or two, but it never went further than that. His wounds seemed to need a medicine she simply didn’t have. Better that she keep Coach Romano as the object of her fantasies. It was safer that way. With