Trust Me

  nearest chair and picked up a magazine. She was so glad Gabe’s life wasn’t in turmoil. He had a few problems, but nothing in comparison to Owen’s—unless that baby ended up being Gabe’s. She realized she was reading an article about breast pumps and dropped the magazine on the seat next to her.

  Gabe came out a moment later, looking no less grim than he had when he’d gone back to give his DNA sample.

  “Did Owen leave?” he asked. “I wanted to talk to him.”

  “He and Caitlyn were having a little argument,” Melanie said with a shrug.

  “Owen was arguing?” Gabe asked, turning toward the exit.

  “Is that unusual for him?”

  “Yeah.” Gabe released a heavy sigh. “I guess I’m not the only one whose life has fallen to pieces.”

  Melanie reached up and took his hand. “I don’t think your life is going so bad,” she said. “You are engaged to a pretty hot babe.” She gave him the sexy come-hither look she sometimes practiced in the mirror.

  “My one lifeboat in a sea of shit.” He smiled, the light of happiness replacing his troubled gaze. “Let’s go get your automatic dildo washer.”

  A nearby woman snorted, and then scrunched down in her chair, as if that would make her invisible.

  “Okay,” Melanie said with a scowl, “yeah, thanks for that. Let’s tell the whole world I need one, why don’t we?” But her Gabe was too wonderful to stay cross with for more than a millisecond.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gabe sipped his lime margarita and watched the light play with the highlights in Melanie’s hair while she looked over the menu. Their new dishwasher was in the back of the truck, Amanda hadn’t been home when they’d stopped by her house, and they’d made it to the restaurant just in time for their dinner reservation. After such a busy afternoon, it was nice to sit and enjoy Melanie’s company. Hell, just looking at her was a splendid way to spend his evening. It almost allowed him to forget that his life really was a sea of shit at the moment.

  “You never told me what Owen and Caitlyn were arguing about,” Gabe said as Melanie debated between the Relleno de Picadillo and Cochinita Pibil. She couldn’t go wrong with either. The food at this restaurant was always top-notch.

  “Um . . . I’m not sure he wants you to know that,” she said, flipping the menu over. “Maybe I should close my eyes and point at the menu. Order whatever I land on.” She did just that and opened her eyes to read what her finger had selected. “Enchiladas de Pato. Duck? They have duck enchiladas. Can you believe it?”

  “I’m sure they’re delicious,” he said. “Order a couple of things to try. We can always take leftovers home to Nikki.” That comment sent her scouring the menu for dishes Nikki might like, but Gabe hadn’t forgotten that she hadn’t answered his question. “Does Owen and Caitlyn’s disagreement have something to do with Kellen?” He was guessing, but obviously had done a good job, because Melanie went still.

  “So you know why Owen’s mad at Kellen?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Gabe lied, taking a sip of his margarita because he was a bad liar. “What do you think about their problem?”

  “It’s not that big a deal.” Melanie shrugged. “A little unwanted kiss isn’t the end of the world.”

  Gabe set his drink down. Hard. “One of them kissed you?”

  Melanie’s pretty brow screwed up. “What? No. I’m talking about how Kellen kissed Owen and Owen completely freaked out over it.”

  Gabe blinked at her. “Kellen kissed Owen?”

  Melanie’s mouth dropped open. “You said you knew. You tricked me.”

  “On the mouth?” Gabe asked flatly.

  “There are worse places he could have kissed him.” Melanie giggled.

  Gabe slapped his forehead. “No wonder Owen flipped the fuck out.”

  “Not a big deal.”

  “When a grown-ass man kisses you on the mouth, it’s a very big fucking deal,” Gabe said. “If he wanted him to, that’s fine, but . . .” Gabe shook his head, having a hard time grasping that Kellen had the hots for Owen. That was what that kiss had been about, wasn’t it? “What the fuck is happening to my friends? They’ve all lost their damned minds.”

  “Are you ready to order?” their server asked.

  Of all the bad timing.

  “Give us a minute,” Gabe said, perhaps too harshly, because the young man darted away as if the kitchen were on fire.

  “At least you’re still sane,” Melanie said, reaching for his hand.

  He allowed her to hold it, but didn’t turn his hand over to clasp hers in return. “That’s funny, because I feel like I’m going crazy.”

  “Why?”

  Probably because his usual release of aggression was to flail a pair of sticks against the skins of his drum kit, and he hadn’t so much as held a drumstick in over a week. “I miss performing. I miss the road. I miss my band. I miss my life.”

  Melanie went perfectly still, her face transforming into an emotionless mask. He’d never seen her react that way and wasn’t sure what to make of it. She released his hand and sat back in her chair.

  “If that’s what you want, I can go back to Kansas.”

  “What?” He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant at all. I don’t want those things to replace you. Don’t you see? I want it all.”

  “And if you can’t have it all, will I be enough?”

  He blinked at her. Was she really asking him that? “Why shouldn’t I be able to have it all?”

  “You should,” she said almost too quietly to hear over the din of the noisy restaurant. “But if your band never gets back together, am I enough to make you happy?”

  That was a lot of burden to place on one person. It wasn’t her job to make him happy. He was happy when he was with her, but he would always need more in his life. Everyone needed something to call their own. If it wasn’t his band, at the very least Gabe would need a career he could be proud of.

  “I’m unequivocally happy when I’m with you,” he said. “But I’m not Nikki.”

  She cocked her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That you’re used to someone depending solely on you for their every happiness.” Melanie liked Nikki’s dependence on her. He’d seen the two of them together enough to recognize their dynamic.

  “But I don’t want that with you,” she said.

  “Are you sure? Because it sure seems that way to me.”

  Melanie’s hand balled into a fist on the tabletop, and she lifted it to press it against her eye. “Why are we arguing about this?” She shook her head, then dropped her hand and lifted her gaze to meet his.

  “I don’t think you recognize what a difficult time I’m having, Mel. My whole world has been turned upside down.”

  “And mine hasn’t? I left my family behind, my job, my apartment, and moved a thousand miles to be with you.”

  “And with Nikki.”

  “Fuck Nikki,” she growled, tossing her hands in the air. “I’m here with you. Are you that jealous of her?”

  “No.” Yes, a part of him whispered back. “Do I have a reason to be jealous?”

  “Why would you have a reason to be jealous?”

  “Because . . . that kiss.” Until that moment, he hadn’t realized seeing Nikki kiss Melanie with more passion than he’d ever seen in his entire life had still been eating at him. He and Melanie had made amends over that incident immediately, but apparently he wasn’t over it.

  “That kiss meant nothing to me,” Melanie said.

  “But it meant something to her.”

  “Do you want me to send her away?”

  He shook his head. “No. I want to find my big boy pants and put them on. I just can’t seem to find them right now.”

  She smiled and then chuckled. “Sorry for laughing. I’m imagining you with red-striped pants pulled up to your pierced nipples.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Those big boy pants. Have you seen them?”

  “I threw
them out. They clashed with your hair.”

  He laughed. “I do love you.”

  “And I love you. I’ll try to be better at reading your mind so I know when you’re more upset than you’re letting on. I honestly didn’t realize the breakup was bothering you so much or that you were dwelling on that stupid kiss.”

  “I’m an asshole,” he said. “I shouldn’t assume you know what’s going on in my head.”

  She reached out for his hand. “You can tell me, you know. It’s never going to change the way I feel about you. It might make me love you even more.”

  He lifted a brow. “To know I can’t handle my personal shit? That will make you love me more.”

  “Yep,” she said, squeezing his hand. “It makes me feel needed, and you know how obsessed I am with feeling needed.” She winked at him, and he burst out laughing.

  “I might not show it as well as Clinger—”

  “Clinger?”

  “AKA Nikki, but I do need you, Mel. Don’t ever let something stupid I say drive you away. I never want that no matter how twisted my insides get sometimes.”

  “They wouldn’t get so twisted if you’d just let it out,” she said. “Now, can we order? I’m starving over here.”

  He pushed the complimentary chips and salsa in her direction and signaled the waiter that they were ready to place their order. Melanie decided on cheese enchiladas. Apparently her adventurous side had taken a hike sometime during their little spat. So Gabe ordered three entrees he’d never tried before—the three Melanie had originally been considering, because she had excellent taste and he was feeling a little reckless.

  “Hungry?” Melanie asked when the waiter walked away.

  “I am,” he said, selecting a chip from their basket and dunking it into salsa.

  “Are we going to try Amanda again before we head home?”

  He crunched on his chip and asked, “Are you okay with that?”

  “I should probably be worried that you’re apparently stalking Jacob’s ex-girlfriend, but I don’t think you plan to kidnap her. At least not when I’m with you. So, yeah, we should stop by to see if she’s home.”

  “I hope she knows why Jacob’s acting so erratic. If we know the cause, maybe we can fix him.”

  “Someone needs to get him fixed. The jerk should not procreate.”

  Gabe snorted. “You only say that because you’ve never seen him with his daughter. That little girl is his entire universe.”

  “I don’t understand how any guy who considers women his personal all-he-can-eat buffet can treat a daughter with respect.”

  “Woman who don’t demand respect don’t receive it.”

  “You’re referring to Nikki, aren’t you?”

  “I’m referring to all the women who will do anything to bed him.”

  “And do you treat the women who want you with same disregard?”

  He looked to his left and then to his right. “My line is a bit shorter than his. After all, I am just the drummer.” A pang of longing twisted his gut. Or maybe it was the spicy salsa. “Or rather, I was just the drummer.”

  “You still are.” She sipped at her margarita, her gorgeous hazel eyes never leaving his face.

  “Just the drummer,” he said, with a grin.

  “You know you’re important to the band,” she said. “But if you want someone to fangirl all over you, you should whine to Nikki.”

  “I’m not whining.”

  “But you should whine. To Nikki. If you’re feeling down, she’ll lift your spirits to the clouds. I guarantee it.”

  “Is that the real reason you keep her around? As an ego fluffer?”

  “Try it,” Melanie said, brightening as the kitchen arrived with way too much food for their small table. “You’ll like it.”

  As usual, the meal was fantastic and the company even better. Now that Melanie had met one of his sisters, he could share stories about their childhood and how he’d always felt like he was trying to live up to the images of his older siblings. His sisters had always been extremely competitive.

  “One Father’s Day they decided to get Dad ties. He has always dressed rather tame—being a physics professor and all—but on occasion he’ll wear an over-the-top tie. So Jennifer got him a tie that lit up with bright LED stripes that periodically changed color and Leslie got him . . .” Gabe laughed as the memory sprang vividly to mind. “. . . a tie with a dog’s ass. It had a tail that wagged in response to clapping. His students had a grand time with that one.”

  Melanie laughed. “Oh my God. I cannot imagine him wearing something like that.”

  “My sisters based their victory on how many times he wore each tie, so of course he had to wear them both regularly and equally. I wonder how hard it was on my parents to have such ultracompetitive children.” He’d never thought about how their sibling rivalry might affect his parents. He’d always been caught up in the contest.

  “So what kind of tie did you get him?” she asked.

  “I’m the black sheep, so I didn’t get him a tie at all.” He winked at her. “I cheated and bought him a new fishing lure.”

  Melanie stole a triangle of his duck quesadilla and nibbled on one point. “Did he wear the lure around his neck when he taught class? He didn’t leave you out, did he?”

  “No. He took me fishing, and of course I insisted we go every time he wore a sister’s tie that year, so win-win for me.”

  “You’re such a rebel.” She fed him a bite of her delicious creamy enchiladas, her gaze riveted to his mouth as he accepted her offering. “I guess I’m glad I was an only child. I got more parental attention than I could ever want.”

  “I’m sure that was tough at times too.”

  She shrugged. “Can’t really complain. I never had to wonder if I was loved.”

  “I never wondered that either. I just never felt like I was the best.”

  “You’ll always be their best son,” she pointed out. “No matter what you do.”

  And he wasn’t sure why that had never occurred to him. “That’s why we need four kids, two boys and two girls. Let the sibling rivalry begin.” He expected her to laugh, but she kept her gaze on her plate. He was starting to learn her cues, and this one said that something was bothering her. “I might be able to handle a couple more, but twenty-four is definitely the max.”

  “Twenty-four?” Her eyes went wide. “You’ll have to knock up a couple dozen groupies if you want that many.”

  “But I want only you to have my babies,” he said.

  She relaxed her shoulders slightly. He guessed she was worried about the paternity test, and when she asked when he’d get the results about Lindsey’s baby, he knew he was right.

  “Three to five business days,” he repeated what he’d been told at his appointment. “I can even look it up online.”

  “And it’s accurate? The baby hasn’t even been born yet.”

  “I guess some of the baby’s DNA gets into the mother’s bloodstream, and they have a way to separate baby DNA from mom DNA. That’s why Lindsey had to give blood, not just a cheek-cell sample.”

  Melanie nodded and then invaded his dinner again to sample the delicious pork cooked in a banana leaf that he was glad he’d ordered.

  “Help yourself,” he said, capturing her fork with his.

  She glanced up. “I’m sorry. Does it bother you to share food? I’ll stop.”

  “I have no problem sharing my food,” he said, capturing the bite she’d been after on his own fork. “But allow me.”

  He lifted the morsel to her mouth and carefully fed her the bite. She covered her mouth with her hand as she chewed. “Fantastic. I’ve never had such authentic Mexican food before. Everything is so flavorful and aromatic.”

  Gabe grinned.

  “What are you grinning at?”

  “I’ve never dated a woman who would use a word like aromatic in everyday conversation.”