Page 107 of Mr. Infuriating

I am not excited to see Gabe.

Then I reasoned, So what if I’m excited. It’s just because I think he’s attractive, and amazing in bed. But I know it was a one-time deal. There’s no way I’m going to sleep with him again.

Okay, if I were to sleep with him again, it wouldn’t mean anything—just like before.

And if it did mean something…

But that’s where lying to myself stopped. There was no future with Gabe, and I knew it. Any daydream about him being my Prince Charming was just setting myself up for heartbreak.

He was, and always would be, Mr. Infuriating. I needed to remember that.

The devil on my shoulder cackled,Mr. Infuriating with an amazingly talented dick.

Chapter Forty-Two

Gabe

I couldn’t help but smile when I pulled into Gretchen’s driveway and saw her garage door open with her silver Honda inside.

Instead of parking in the middle of the stall, like I do in my garage, she’d parked to the far right, as if she was leaving room for my truck.

So, of course I pulled in like I belonged there.

Why else would she have left the garage door open?

And I didn’t knock when I walked in, although I did loudly announce my presence.

“Knock, knock!”

She was nowhere to be found, so I set the pizza boxes on the island counter and stashed the bag with the cheesecake slices in the refrigerator before I went in search of her.

“Gretchen?” I called as I ventured through her house. “Sweetheart?”

I knew I had no business calling her that, but it didn’t feel awkward, so I said it again as I walked down the hall toward her closed bedroom door.

I noticed Jake’s room next to hers, decorated in a farm theme. She must have had the door closed when I was there before. While no doubt, I’d been laser-focused on her, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed the red toddler bed, green rug, brightly colored paint and animal decals on the wall.

The bean bags next to the bookcase full of books and easel chalkboard made me smile.

The whole room screamed, “tell me your mom’s a teacher, without telling me your mom’s a teacher”. Jake was a lucky boy.

I heard the turning of the knob, and before I could alert her to my presence, she came out of her bedroom and ran smack dab into my chest, letting out a blood-curdling scream in the process.

Grabbing her arms so she didn’t throw a right hook, I soothed, “It’s me! It’s me!”

She took a step back, out of my hold, put her hand on her chest, and panted, “Oh my god, Gabe! You scared the crap out of me!”

“I’m sorry! I called your name, but you must not have heard me.”

“I was in my closet, changing out of my work clothes.”

I took the opportunity to peruse her body. She was in a pair of black yoga pants that looked like they had some sort of design on them, almost like circular racing stripes along her thighs. Her light-blue t-shirt had red, green, blue, and yellow paint splotches on it, as if that was what she’d worn when she painted Jake’s room. And she wore a pair of black tennis shoes with pink stripes and laces, and a thick pink sole.

Her hair was piled on top of her head with loose strands that framed her face; exactly like the first time she’d walked into my showroom. And same as that fateful day, I couldn’t get over how beautiful she was.

I realized I was staring when she blurted out, “What?” and looked down at her outfit. “I’m not going to wear something nice to tear out cabinets.”

“You’re perfect.”

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