Gabe was torn between laughing at the notion that she didn’t think his brother had thoughtful in him and jealous that she now stared at Decklan with a newfound respect.
“Thank you, Ms. Masters. Don’t I get at least a peck on the cheek for the effort?” he asked.
A pink blush stole up Izzy’s cheeks. Gabe wanted to be the only one responsible for putting that flush on her face.
She stepped forward, and Gabe growled. Literally growled. “Go home, Decklan. Izzy and I have plans.”
“Don’t be rude! He came all the way over here to give me—”
Gabe grabbed the bag and looked inside. “Tums? He gave you Tums, and you’re gushing all over him?”
Decklan burst out laughing while Izzy stood between them, obviously confused at Gabe’s possessive behavior. Gabe didn’t understand it either. He only knew that until he and Izzy had something solid, no other man was getting between them. His brother and his dime-store gifts included.
“I actually have to be going. I have a date,” Decklan said, clearly holding back his amusement. “I just figured, based on my brother’s behavior last night, he wanted to keep you, and I’d best bring by a peace offering.” He shrugged. “Considering what I just witnessed, nothing’s changed, so I’ll be seeing you around here, Isabelle. Assuming he doesn’t drive you away with his jealousy first.”
“Go home,” Gabe muttered, embarrassed at being caught acting like an ass by the only man in this world he could actually trust around his woman.
Decklan turned to go. Gabe figured he’d make things right with his sibling tomorrow.
“Wait,” Izzy said, stopping Decklan’s retreat.
His brother glanced back at her.
“Peace offering accepted,” she said with a grateful smile on her beautiful face, leaving Gabe with the thought that if a bottle of Tums turned her into a beaming angel, he couldn’t wait to bestow more intimate, unexpected presents on his favorite girl.
Chapter Seven
Isabelle: Clarity
I was ravenous and devoured the most delicious steak, well aware of Gabe’s eyes on me the whole time. We sat in a small breakfast nook in the kitchen, eating on a white and beige granite tabletop. Gabe pulled his seat close to mine, and though I should’ve been uncomfortable, I wasn’t because I was too amused by what had gone down between Gabe and Decklan over me.
Me.
“What’s so funny?” Gabe asked me, wiping his mouth with a napkin before placing it back in his lap.
“I can’t say I’ve ever been the object of a pissing contest before.”
He leaned on one arm. “Can’t say I’ve engaged in one before either.”
I had a difficult time believing him. “No big blocks of real estate you’ve wanted? No club takeovers?”
“I was talking about women.” He paused. “You saw the bedroom.”
No need for me to ask which one.
He rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw, obviously considering what to say next, and a gnawing ache ate at my stomach as I waited for him to continue.
“That room has been the extent of my dealings with women for more years than I can remember.” He steepled his fingers and stared at me for a long while before finally speaking. “I normally don’t bring women to my bed, but I don’t want to be in their space either.”
“Too intimate?” I asked him, leaning back in my seat, as if I had no problem with his women or his habits.
“Much.” Those dark eyes probed into mine.
“That’s sad,” I said, rising to my feet. I picked up my dish, then his, intending to clean up the meal.
He clamped his hand on my wrist. “Leave it.”
“You cooked, I’ll clean.”