Never Give You Up Page 3

  “It’s Gabe. Are you awake?”

  I am now you son of a—“Yes! Just a minute.”

  With an unladylike curse, Mary plodded across the chilly wooden floor and grabbed her housecoat from the hook by the door. Still in an aroused yet angry state, she made her way to the back door and yanked it open.

  “What do you want?” She tried to control her heaving chest.

  Gabe raised a teasing brow. “What, no hello?”

  She folded her arms over her bust and glared at him. “Hello. Now what do you want?”

  With a casual shrug and a disarming grin, Gabe brushed past her, into the hallway toward the kitchen, as if he had a share in the property. “I thought I’d swing by and check up on you. Good thing I did. You smell like a pub. Everything okay with you?”

  Mary made a face behind his back and shut the door. She tightened the sash of her robe and followed him into the kitchen, annoyed by his horrible timing, yet grateful when he saved her the trouble of having to make coffee.

  “I’m lovely. Where’s Mima?”

  “At home,” he said over his shoulder.

  Curious to the strange visit, Mary took a seat at the kitchen table and watched in tired silence as he patiently waited for the brew then fixed each of them a steamy cup. Apparently his untimely visit needed coffee before more words were exchanged. She was okay with it, for now.

  Mary eyed him up as he puttered around. Gabe may have swept her best friend off her tough feet, but Mary still felt awkward around him, even when he came by with Mima to help with some of the more difficult tasks Tom used to handle. Gabe may be somewhat of a decent man and wouldn’t harm her, there was still something about him she couldn’t trust, and it had nothing to do with who he was, but what he did.

  Her life had drastically changed when he crashed his plane into their woods. Sometimes she wondered if Gabriel Miller pushed her husband into the freezing Athabasca River. It made no sense that a strong man like Tom, who lived in the woods for thirty years, would drown so easily.

  She eyed him with mixed emotions as he spooned cream and sugar into his mug and lifted it close to his lips. “How’ve you been lately? I haven’t had the chance to swing by in a while.” His expression turned more serious. “Mima had to put one of the dogs down. She’s not in the best of moods.”

  He sipped his coffee and absently glanced around the room.

  Mary’s heart ached for her friend, knowing those dogs were like children to Mima, as Mary’s were to her. “Poor girl. Which one had to be put down?”

  Gabe shrugged. “No idea. I can’t keep track of them all.”

  She glared at the heartless man across from her. “There’s only five of them.” Of course he wouldn’t remember the name of the dog, but he’d never forget his Lady Diana specially kept in the city. After all, he constantly talked about how fast and smooth she was. Men like Gabe had their cars, while she and Mima had their dogs.

  She took another deep pull of her coffee, watching his demeanor. He appeared calm but the puffed out vein in his forehead didn’t go unnoticed. “Come out with it. I know you didn’t come here to check up on me.”

  Gabe rumbled with laughter. “You got me all figured out.” He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a deep breath. Once he set his cup back down, he eyed her more seriously. “Actually, I have a business proposition for you.”

  The mere mention of that word made her tense up. “What does your business have to do with me?”

  “I have a friend who needs a place to unwind. Nothing gets more private than this.”

  She tried not to react physically to those words, but her heart pounded and every nerve jumped to life when she knew who he was talking about. “No.” There was only one man who’d want to come here, and he made everything in her body come to life without her consent.

  Gabe’s comical look grated her nerves. “What if I told you it was Terry?”

  A strike of fear and unwanted excitement ripped through her, but she tried her best to appear passive. Why did he have to say his name and confirm her wicked suspicion? “Terry?” She shrugged, but her stomach fluttered with anxiety and it became harder to sit still on the damned chair.

  “Got your attention now, don’t I?”

  Despite the chaos they’d created in her life, she couldn’t help thinking about the man with eyes like a glacier that made her stomach flip, and a sexy smile that made her want to let him do things with his hot mouth. The same man she lost her control with and kissed on a lonely night after one too many beers, one month after Tom’s death.

  Her cheeks burned at the thought, not only from the shame of kissing a man this soon after her husband’s death, but also from the heated memory of that night. Despite her inhibitions from drinking, she remembered how his sensual, exploring kiss made her feel bold, brash. If he hadn’t pulled away, she would have given him much more.

  And the dreams . . . .

  She squared her shoulders, forcing herself to think smart. By all means, a group of gangsters could come charging in and flip her world over just when she was getting back on her feet again. Having Terry here would end in disaster and possible death, and the kind of heartbreak a woman couldn’t get over. She already had enough heartbreak to last a lifetime.

  Gabe at her kitchen table was bad enough. As much as she appreciated his help, having a criminal swinging by to visit didn’t seem natural. She couldn’t imagine regular folks hanging out with drug smugglers and murderers over coffee and deer sausage.

  Gabe’s sharp gaze settled on hers and it cut right through her. “Seriously. Terry needs a vacation. He looks like shit.”

  She eyeballed him right back. “So?”

  He lifted his steaming mug and took another sip before answering. He was taking too long to explain himself. “You don’t want him to come here?”

  She rubbed her sweaty palms over the robe covering her thighs. “Not really. And since when does Terry McCoy need a vacation? Did something happen and he needs to hide out with a convenient little widow like me who lives in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Bullshit.” Mary glared at him, regretting opening the door this morning when she could’ve enjoyed an earth-shattering dream.

  Gabe shrugged. “Look, all I know is, he wants a break and he wants it to be here with you.”

  Her back stiffened. She looked around the room, anywhere but directly at Gabe. He seemed pushy about this apparent vacation, and it scared her. When she had the nerve to finally look back at him, something strange lingered in his calculating eyes that made her think this visit was a cover-up to something else. She had her dumb moments like everyone else, but she wasn’t an idiot. The McCoy’s probably owned several vacation homes across the world. It made no sense to Mary he’d want to come here to her quaint little cabin in the woods, where nothing but hard work was the highlight of the day.

  “Why didn’t he just call me if he wanted to see me?” She didn’t bother to mention she’d left messages on Terry’s voicemail, and his lack of a response hurt her feelings. Now she was frustrated and angry.

  Right now all men were the same in Mary’s eyes. They couldn’t be relied upon or trusted.

  Gabe’s smile faded slightly. Perhaps he sensed she wasn’t comfortable with the conversation. “He’s been busy, Mary, and to be honest, he’s been out of sorts lately.”

  “When you two flew into my life my husband wound up dead.” She took another long drink from the mug, needing a rush of caffeine. Maybe something stronger would be more appropriate during this strange conversation.

  Gabe cleared his throat and looked down at his cup. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He tapped his hand against the cup, the silver ring on his baby finger ticking the seconds away.

  She blew out a shaky breath. “Don’t mention it. The asshole treated me like garbage anyway. Now I finally get to do what I want.” She hoped to God he couldn’t tell how hard it was for her to say that. How much it hurt to be alone,
even when the pain didn’t physically hurt anymore. She didn’t want him thinking she was still the same terrified woman he’d first met a few months back. All this back talk and toughness was only a front. Deep down, she was a lot like her father.

  Gabe’s brow arched but he made no further comment.

  “Why doesn’t Terry stay with you and Mima?” Mary picked up her coffee cup, pushed her chair back and strolled over to the kitchen window, which faced a thick stand of pines. Maybe Gabe wouldn’t notice how upset this conversation made her.

  All alone with Terry. The criminal who kissed me then left me hanging.

  Even when he’d come to say hello and checked up on her, he always had some kind of bodyguard with him, which in itself made her uneasy. Even if she agreed, there’d be men with guns behind the trees. She didn’t want to live in fear again, even if it was for a short while.

  “Mima’s cabin has one bedroom. We’d be packed like sardines.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m sure he has other friends in your business that could show him a good time.”

  “I wouldn’t say he’s looking for a good time. More like a good rest, with someone he trusts.”

  Mary sighed. It seemed as if everything she said was going in one ear and out the other. “I’m sure there are many other private locations, resorts, small towns, hookers, to keep him busy.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “He wants to be here with you. It’s really that simple.”

  Nothing is simple these days. She closed her eyes tight, wishing she could be somewhere else, and rubbed the sudden ache in her forehead. “We barely know each other.” A part of her wanted to run and hide, but the other wanted to hear more.

  She opened her eyes and stared out the window, feeling hopeless and alone, picturing that night. He’d told his man to wait in the chopper. Then he closed the back door before he pressed her against the hallway wall and made her mind blank with lust. It happened so quickly after a few drinks that, like a common floozy, she’d held him tight and taken everything he’d given. Those criminal lips still held an imprint on her soul.

  To say that she felt ashamed of her actions was an understatement.

  Pushing aside her wayward thoughts, Mary sought out the picture of her and Tom standing in front of the house a few years back. She knew damn well the smile on her face was fake, his grip on her arm too tight. Everything was a lie. Everything was forced. Terry would probably hurt her, too.

  “Did Tom really drown? Be honest with me.”

  Gabe’s expression remained the same. Calm, cool, and completely unreadable. “Yes. He drowned. It’s a common way to die.”

  She shook her head in disbelief and turned back to the window, trying to fight the tears rushing to the surface. Her whole body trembled. Why did she have to be leery of everything? She wished she was strong enough to throw caution to the wind and be like everybody else who didn’t give a shit about action versus consequences. She cared too much about every little thing it physically pained her.

  A hand touched her shoulder and she jerked around in horror. “Jesus, you scared me,” she panted. “You guys are always sneaking up on me.” She backed away. “Don’t do that anymore.”

  “I’m sorry.” Gabe stepped back and looked down at her with what appeared to be sympathy in his eyes. “I would never hurt you, and Terry wouldn’t either. He’s not an evil man.”

  Mary swallowed the lump in her throat. What was the true meaning of evil anyway? A man who hit his wife or a man who took another man’s life?

  Gabe frowned. “I’m confused. I thought you two were really hitting it off? He hasn’t shut up about you since the doc took that bullet out of his shoulder.”

  Mary couldn’t look him in the eye. “I don’t know what to tell you.” She blew out a deep breath and stared out the window again, her gaze lost in the endless sway of green. Knowing Terry talked about her lifted her spirits, but there were still many questions left unanswered. “He made me feel like I was beautiful.” She bit her lip, realizing she’d said that out loud, and turned back to Gabe with her shoulders square. “But now I know better than to believe anything a player says.”

  Gabe appeared to be taken back by her words but didn’t say anything else in Terry’s defense. “Would fifty-grand make it easier on you?”

  She’d just taken another sip of coffee and nearly choked on it. “What?”

  “I’ll pay you to babysit him. Think of yourself as an innkeeper, or bed and breakfast hostess . . . whatever.”

  Mary threw her hands up in frustration, cursed out loud, and opened the cupboard door. “I’d have to cook for him too?” She grabbed a bottle of liquor and added three fingers to her coffee. The bottle rattled against the cup. She sorely needed hair of the dog.

  Fifty-thousand dollars. Holy shit.

  Gabe stood there completely silent as she took a shaky drink. “And if I say no, then what? People come banging down my door anyway, like I have no say in the matter?” Why am I shaking so much? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen fifty-thousand dollars before.”

  She set her coffee cup down, unable to keep a steady hand. It would take her several years of hard work to earn that much money.

  Gabe shrugged as if he was talking about beer money. “Put it this way, if after his little vacay is over and you still want him gone, then I understand. Take the money and run if you want. Nobody is telling you what to do. I’m just asking for your help.”

  She breathed a little better knowing she wouldn’t be forced into anything, yet this whole situation was so crazy she didn’t even know what to say. Gabe’s proximity, and the fact that he was such a huge guy didn’t help either, even though he let her have her own space.

  A long, awkward silence fell over them until Gabe cleared his throat. “Ben has been dealt with.”

  Mary swallowed. The mention of that psycho’s name made her skin crawl. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I want you to trust me, and Terry couldn’t tell you himself. He can’t call you and report our actions.” He lifted a teasing brow and Mary wanted to hit him. “I’m sure he’ll make it up to you somehow. So, what do you say?”

  She took a shaky breath. Why am I even having this conversation with him? Fifty-thousand dollars. Maybe she could skip town and go on a vacation or something. Let Terry stay here on his own and fend for himself.

  “I don’t know, Gabe. This is insane.”

  “Not really.” He chuckled. “It’s not like he’s a complete stranger to you. Think of all the fun you could have.” He waggled his eyebrows then winked, showing that strange humor she was still trying to get used to.

  “I . . . .” She turned and moved a safe distance away, her cheeks burning knowing he was right. “I have a hard time trusting people, especially after what happened.”

  “You can trust me, you know.”

  She whirled around. “Why? Why does Mima trust you after everything that happened? We had a simple life until you guys showed up.” Tears filled her eyes from the harsh memory of Ben cutting her breast. Almost of its own will, her hand lifted to the scar, a small ridge about an inch in length above her right breast. Physical proof of how crazy some men really are. It didn’t seem to matter who set foot into her life, if he was a man, he was bound to eventually hurt her both physically and emotionally.

  Gabe glanced around the room, perhaps trying to find the right words. “Terry and I both feel horrible about what happened. I certainly didn’t plan to crash my plane, and we didn’t know what Ben was up to.”

  She blew out an impatient breath. Her hand settled back to her side, but the scar would never be forgotten. “I know, but still. Our lives aren’t the same anymore. I’m not the same anymore.”

  “None of us are the same anymore. Look, all I can say is Mima’s my world. I truly believe fate brought us together, and I’m about to give her this.” He reached into his pocket and when he opened his enormous hand a gorgeous diamond
ring twinkled in his palm. “I’m going to ask her tonight, but I thought I should tell you first.” He shrugged, but Mary saw the color of embarrassment in his cheeks. “Kind of like asking your permission, I guess, since you’re her only family.”

  Her throat felt tight. Her heart felt empty. What did Mima see in this man? She eyed him critically. He was built like a brute and had the face of a man weathered by a harsh life. He may be handsome in his own way, but nothing to die for. In her eyes Gabe wasn’t a sex symbol, he was a symbol of take it to the death by any means necessary kind of man. But Mima fell in love with him. She was attracted to him, and Mary would probably never understand why. Maybe they were perfect for each other. Big versus small. Harsh versus soft.

  A slow smile touched her lips. “You don’t need my permission. I know she loves you. I have no idea why, but I know she does.”

  Gabe nodded, his grin almost childish. “Not all men are assholes, Mary. You’ll find out soon enough.”

  She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. “My answer is no, Gabe.” Fifty-grand you idiot! But Mary walked him to the door before she changed her mind. “Please tell Terry I’m sorry, but I can’t do it. Good luck with your proposal tonight. I know what her answer will be.”

  Gabe nodded and let the screen door smack behind him. “Take care, Mary. We’ll see you soon.” He started his old Ford pickup and backed out of the driveway.

  Mary returned to the kitchen with a heavy heart. How lucky Mima was to have such a big and powerful man love her so much. She was envious, even knowing Gabriel wasn’t exactly a model citizen. Not everybody is perfect, and not everybody gets what they want. Mary was well aware of the brutality of people and life in general.

  When she heard the truck pull away she returned to the kitchen and polished off the rest of her Irish coffee.

  A vision of Terry filled her mind. He was the opposite of Gabe. Terry had a long and lithe body, and his face could grace any popular magazine. He was tough but he had class. He could be deadly, but he could kiss her into liquid, too.

  She closed her eyes and allowed herself to imagine how pleasurable it could be in his arms. It was just a fantasy. A dream. Nothing good could ever come from a tryst with Terry McCoy, son of a notorious crime boss. But she was allowed to fantasize in her own home, on her own kitchen chair.