He swallowed hard, turned away for a moment, then turned back to her with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand.
“You could have espresso makers for your event,” he murmured. “I’m sure a lot of your guests aren’t used to drinking plain coffee anymore. I couldn’t get my hands on one in time.”
“Yeah, sure, fine.” Who cared about coffee? Who cared about the damn contest? All she cared about was the man in front of her. The man who was obviously beginning to push her away.
“And there should be something sort of fancy for breakfasts, wouldn’t you say? Or do you think it would be more of a brunch situation?” he asked.
“Brunch,” she answered, automatically. She wasn’t thinking about his words, only about the way her heart was aching.
“What do you think—omelet station? Waffle station? Crepes, maybe?”
“I don’t know,” Bri said, searching desperately for a way to get through to him while their conversation masked what was really happening. “Um, maybe omelets and crepes? Waffles may be considered too high in carbs for many of these people. Especially the women.”
“Of course.” Gabe pulled up a table, placing it in front of Brianne, and set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her. “Scrambled, like you like them.”
“And bacon nearly burned. You remember how I hate floppy bacon.”
“Floppy bacon might as well be ham,” he said, quoting something she’d declared years before. How was it he could remember so much of what she said? Like he carried a tape recorder around with him.
He sat down to his own food, eating carefully. Avoiding her gaze. Brianne’s heart broke, but she desperately tried to hide it. For several minutes, she pushed her food around, then gave up.
“What’s happening, Gabe?” she asked, searching his face.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I understand you’re freaked. I know it’s an adjustment, the two of us. After what happened last night. But I didn’t expect this feeling of distance between us. We’re not strangers, you and me. This wasn’t a one-night stand, not like before.”
“Wasn’t it?” he said, sighing and pushing his empty plate away.
Her eyes widened. “Not to me. Was it to you? Please, talk to me. I want us to be open with each other, you know? No secrets.”
“You mean like the secrets we both kept from Eric.”
He might as well have hit her. “Why are you talking about him right now?” Of course she understood why. But what she’d meant to ask was why they weren’t talking aboutthemfirst. Wasn’t that the most important thing? How they felt about each other? What they wanted from each other? Only then could they talk about Eric and what needed to happen next.
Gabe laughed bitterly. “Are you kidding? Eric’s right here, standing between us. Or he might as well be.” He got up, pushing his chair aside, before busying himself with cleanup. Soon, she realized he wasn’t just cleaning up, butpacking up.
“Gabe?” she said. “Stop it! You can’t pretend last night didn’t happen.”
“I’m not pretending that. It’s just…for six years, I’d convinced myself that you and Eric were perfect for each other. That you and I were just friends. That you didn’t feel the way I did. That I wasn’t good enough for you. Some of that’s changed, but not all of it.”
Brianne’s eyes filled with tears. She could clearly see the tension in Gabe’s shoulders as he worked. No one had ever scoured a pan more thoroughly than he was. He poured water over the fire, eradicating the flames, then shoveled ash over top.
He stared at the extinguished fire. “I’m used to stepping aside, Brianne. It’s what feels right to me.”
“But it’s not right. Not anymore.” She dared to reach out and place a tentative hand on his back, which he shrugged off.
Like her touch burned.
She yanked her hand back, hurt by his reaction.
Regret flickered across his expression before he neutralized it.
“Eric’s gone. He left me, Gabe.”
“He’s going to be back. You know that.”
“Well, yeah. His family. His job. His life is here, after all. But that doesn’t mean we’ll be back together.”