Regan said, clearly dismissing him.
He went. But this conversation was not over. Mama bear claws out or not, there was no way those two were going to sleep here with nothing but a few clothes, a box of books, and a ratty old sleeping bag.
Regan leaned down for one last peanut butter-and-honey-flavored kiss. “Tonight, it’s just you, me, and the great outdoors.”
“Can we make s’mores?”
Regan thought of the microwave, mentally added graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate to her grocery list, and nodded. “And hot dogs?”
Holly nodded excitedly. Closing the blinds, Regan headed for the front room, soft breathing already emanating from the sleeping bag.
Her breathing, however, was coming fast and furious.
“What the hell are you thinking?” Gabe said the second the door slid closed. It was part statement–part question, and completely judgmental. “You can’t let her sleep on the floor.”
Regan marched across the room, glaring the whole way. “Don’t you ever tell me how to raise my daughter. Do you think this is what I want for her?”
“I’m sorry, but it just can’t be good.” His eyes raked over the dismal apartment. It wasn’t the Ritz, but she and Holly had survived worse. And they would survive this.
“Kids do it all the time at sleepovers. This is no different.”
“Sleepovers don’t smell like...God, what is that?” Gabe sniffed the air. “It’s like wet dog or—”
“I live above a corkery, which aside from the smell—” Regan held her breath. It didn’t smell like wet dog, it smelled worse. “Can be a cool place to live when you’re a kid. But the minute you start questioning, she’ll go from feeling like this is an adventure to feeling like she should be ashamed of her...of where we live.” She couldn’t stomach using the word home to describe their current living condition.
Gabe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“I know this isn’t ideal, but I am doing the best I can.” Regan leaned against the wall, so tired that it took everything she had not to cry. Or hyperventilate. “Please...don’t ruin this for us.”
Gripping the back of his neck, Gabe stared at the ceiling. “Look, why don’t I load up some of the furniture from the cottage and bring it over.”
Like that was going to happen. Martin women made their own way. “We’ll manage just fine.”
“Let me help you. This is partly my fault.”
“Partly?” Was this guy serious?
“Christ, Regan. I can’t leave you two here in this—”
“Careful,” Regan said, stepping forward again and poking him in the chest. “You’re about to say something about my home. And I know that compared to your Armani McMansion this seems like a pathetic little dump. But it’s my pathetic little dump.”
The past week had drained her, played on every one of her insecurities. And being here with him, like he was today, had thrown her off balance. Gabe DeLuca could be charming, funny, even gentle when he wanted to be, which for her was more dangerous than the asshole she’d come to know and loathe. Problem was, reconciling him with that guy who’d been determined to ruin her life was becoming more and more difficult. And that made her nervous.
When he was going for the jugular, Regan knew how to respond. Because there, at least, she understood the rules. So of course Gabe had to go and say, “You’re right, Regan. And I’m sorry.”
“You’ve started saying that a lot.”
“Only to you,” he whispered, tugging on her ponytail and—oh boy—her stomach did a funny little flip right up into her chest. Not good.
“And I mean it every time. I am so sorry.” He opened his mouth to say more, but instead of speaking he took a step closer.
Regan’s fingers wouldn’t listen to reason. They tangled in his shirt, pulling him even closer. She could feel the strong beat of his heart vibrate under her hand and wondered what it would feel like to fall asleep listening to that.
Gabe’s head tilted to look at her hand, which was now splayed over his chest, and she felt his pulse speed up. His head didn’t move, but his eyes flew to hers. They were the most intense shade of brown and so heavy with want that Regan felt her whole body actually tingle with awareness.
When Gabe reached out, his hand sliding into her hair and tipping her face to his, three things hit her all at once. First, she knew that he was going to kiss her. Knew that it would be