Page 91 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
For a moment we were all silent. George didn’t say too much in the general chit-chat of things but apparently when he did, it was a real corker.
‘Oh, I don’t think there’s any danger of that!’ I said, laughing, my pitch just a tiny bit too high. I hoped no one noticed and that if they had, it would just be put down to the champagne.
We all exchanged a couple more hugs before Gabe and I headed back to the underground car park where we’d left my car. After opening the door for me, he ensured my dress wasn’t hanging out of the door and then slid in the driver’s side. As he started the engine, the throaty burble reverberated around the structure.
‘You know I’d marry you just for your car.’
‘You’re such a romantic. I really can’t understand how you haven’t already been snapped up.’
Chapter 16
Watery moonlight lit our way as we crunched along on the gravel at the side of the house to the back door. Gabe never used his front door, and I couldn’t ever remember Gigi using hers. I probably ought to check it actually worked and wasn’t painted shut or something before I put the house up for sale.
The moment the thought hit my brain, I felt my chest tighten, my breath shorten and start to hitch as I struggled to get the oxygen through. Immediately Gabe’s arms were around me, gently steering me to the deck where he sat me down, saying nothing, but his solid, calming presence helping anyway. Gradually my breathing returned to normal, the pounding heart receding as the world began slowing down its insane spin.
‘You OK?’
I nodded.
‘Do you know what brought that on?’
I knew now exactly what had brought it on. The thought of leaving all this and returning to my old life in London. My real life. Knowing what the trigger was had taken a little of the fear and panic from the attacks – but wondering what would happen once I was thrust back into my old life was still just as terrifying. But I couldn’t tell Gabe any of that.
I shook my head. He looked at me for a few moments, but the porch lights were off so the only light was from the moon, and I hoped that wasn’t enough for him to see the lie on my face. If I told him the truth, he might think that I was talking about him too. That not only didn’t I want to leave Wishington Bay, but that I didn’t want to leave him either. And that would be awkward. Yes, he’d been supportive this evening when I’d spoken about my mum, but that was just who he was. He’d been a friend to Gigi and he was a friend to me. Whatever else we pretended to be at the moment was exactly that – pretend. I knew it but found myself having to remind myself of it. Often. There were times – far too many times – that I found myself wishing things were different. Real.
But I’d made a point of keeping my heart to myself for a reason. I’d seen what could happen when you gave it away like my dad had. My parents had been so happy but losing Mum had destroyed my father. He’d never really lived again after that – not truly – and I’d vowed never to put myself in that situation. And of course, I had the experience gained from the one time I’d gone against my own advice, which only served to reinforce the point. Letting people touch your heart was a bad idea.
This time I knew I had to be even more careful. Gabe McKinley wasn’t a man you had a summer fling with. At least, he wasn’t for me. That had been clear to me from the first evening I’d met him properly at my brother’s house. Gabe was a man you fell deep and hard for. The sort of man who, once in your heart, would always be there, whatever you did. And that was a complication I couldn’t have. A complication I couldn’t afford. A perfect example of why I had a system of protecting my heart in place – because, once in a lifetime, a man like Gabe McKinley came along and he’d take it without ever knowing he’d even touched it.
‘Let’s get you inside.’ His voice was gentle, capable and caring and I thought again what a comfort he must be to the parents of the children he treated, as well as the youngsters themselves. When Gabe spoke, it made you feel like things were still under control, even when you’d been forced to let go of the wheel. Letting other people take control was something else I had never been good at. So why did I relent when it came to Gabe? Maybe because it didn’t feel like someone else taking control – but instead like being part of a team.
His arm around me, we walked into the house, the light from the timer lamp throwing a warm, cosy cast over the living room.
‘Thanks.’
He shook his head. ‘Anytime.’
‘I had a really nice evening. Thank you.’
‘You’re more than welcome. So did I.’ He took my hand, lifting my fingers, studying the transfers I’d put on them after painting them. ‘I had no idea you’d lost your mum so early. I’m so sorry,’ he said, his gaze moving from my hands to my face.
‘Gigi didn’t like to talk about it much. When we lost Mum, we really lost Dad too. And there was Ned and me. It was a lot for her to cope with. I think she always preferred to just concentrate on the positive, happy memories.’
‘I think you’re right. She had some great stories.’
‘She was a wonderful storyteller. She never told us stories from books, although we always had more of those than we could ever read, but she’d make up these wonderful bedtime stories, and they were always so full of colour, and detail and so, so vibrant – it felt like you were right there in that world she’d created.’
‘It’s a shame she didn’t write them down.’
‘I used to tell her the same thing.’
He smiled and pulled me towards him, his arms wrapping around me. ‘I think we were both very lucky to have had her in our lives.’
‘I think you’re right.’
‘And I’ll never be able to thank her enough for introducing me to you, even if it didn’t happen quite as she intended.’
I pulled back a little, smiling. ‘You know she’d be loving all this, don’t you?’
