Mr. Smithfield - Louise Bay Page 0,8

they looked almost as good as new. I settled on the boots. If I wore the heels, my sister would think I was trying to impress someone. And she’d think that someone was Gabriel. And it would become a thing.

“Are you ready?” Gabriel called up the stairs. Even though we were only going together because he was one of Dexter’s best friends and not because he was my date, his question triggered a ripple of excitement deep in my belly. Like my body thought he was my boyfriend, even if the reality was I’d barely seen him since we’d watched the changing of the guard nearly two weeks ago. He had softened that day. Now he was back to being in a perpetually bad mood. Warm, friendly Gabriel was reserved for whenever Bethany was around. Even when he hid that part of him away, I knew it was there. And I wanted to know why it was buried so deep.

“Coming,” I replied, picking up the wrist wallet Hollie had bought me for Christmas.

As I got to the bottom of the stairs, I waited while Gabriel finished giving instructions to the sitter.

“I should be babysitting,” I said as Gabriel closed the front door behind us.

“No,” he said in a way that left no room for argument. “You should be having dinner with your sister. It’s Saturday night.”

“But nannies are supposed to do babysitting and we agreed that—”

Gabriel opened the door to the cab waiting at the curb.

“You do plenty of babysitting,” he said as he took a seat next to me, scanning my dress. I followed his gaze as it rested on the slit up the side of my thigh. God, was it inappropriate? I’d had dinner with Hollie, Dexter, and their friends before, and thought I’d chosen well. Was my choice of outfit totally off-base?

“The dress is new. I thought it would be okay for tonight,” I said, almost embarrassed at his apparent disapproval. What did I know about London dress codes? I grew up in a trailer park. Paper napkins with printed designs were fancy to me.

He kind of growled before he looked away. “You look beautiful,” he mumbled to the window.

I tried to bite back my smile. Rather than disapproving of my outfit, had he been checking me out? Heat pooled between my thighs and I swore I could feel the warmth of his body across the foot of space between us in the cab.

“Thank you,” I whispered, half breathless from joy at being thought beautiful by a man like Gabriel, and half wondering why he looked so pained to give the compliment. Was it difficult for him to be nice to anyone but Bethany?

He sighed and shook his head like the words tortured him.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Fine,” he replied, still fixated on the view outside the window. “I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not offended,” I said. “It’s nice to get a compliment. Especially from you.”

“Especially from me?” He glanced at me and then back to the window, as if he were trying not to look at me.

Especially from someone so impossibly handsome. Someone so worldly, so clever and caring and careful. Someone I had a huge crush on. “Yes,” I replied, simply. He must know that every woman within a mile radius had a crush on him. I was no one special.

“How was Bethany yesterday?” he asked, his tone changed as if he’d been sleep talking and had just woken up.

“She’s adorable. I took her swimming, like I said. She loves the water.” I didn’t mention that I thought there should have been a lifeguard on duty even though there had been two instructors. I knew I could be overcautious about stuff like that because of my lifeguard training, and I didn’t want him to worry.

“I took her to Greece last summer and she just wanted to be in the pool the entire time.”

“Greece?” I asked, imagining whitewashed villas and bright pink flowers contrasting perfectly with the blue of the sea. “I’ve always wanted to go. Is it wonderful?”

“We didn’t see much of it outside the pool. I thought you said you wanted to go to Paris and Rome.”

“I do,” I said. “Greece too. I want to feel the Mediterranean breeze through my hair and white sand between my toes, not just have Mamma Mia as my point of reference. Same goes for Paris.”

“Let me guess . . . An American Werewolf in Paris is your current point of reference?”

Had Gabriel Chase just made