Page 40 of Claiming What Is Mine

Chapter Nineteen

Meredith

It’s notthat I don’t enjoy talking to Gabe on the phone. It’s become our nightly thing. Most nights we talk until he starts to doze on me. One night he fell fully asleep. I had to just wish him sweet dreams and hang up. But this conversation is different. He’s super excited about something, but he won’t tell me what it is. He keeps dodging the question, telling me it’s nothing. Nothing my butt, mister. My radar is going crazy, and I know the man is up to something. I feel it in my gut.

“Yes, Gabe. Alright, I give. Yes, I suppose—but you are taking your life in your hands by coming here. Okay, if you insist, fine. I’ll be ready when you get here. But you have to promise to stay in the driveway. I mean it, that’s non-negotiable. Yes, I will be dressed up, but not too fancy. I’m looking forward to seeing you too. Okay now stop, you’re being weird.” I roll my eyes. “Yes, in a cute way. Alright, I’ll see you soon. I love you too. Byyye.” I lay my phone down on the bedside table and replay the conversation. His excitement has me excited too, but also nervous. I don’t typically like surprises, and given the way he’s acting, he’s planning something—I know it. It’s the what’s and the why’s I don’t have a clue about.

And more important, what the hell does a woman wear to be dressed up, but not too fancy? I’m not even sure I know what that means, seeing as he gave precisely zero hints about where we’re going or what we’ll be doing. And why was he so adamant that he picks me up here, knowing full well Daddy’s home?

Stop worrying, everything will be fine, as long as he stays in the truck and I get my tush out the door before Dad knows anything about it. I swear that man has had it out for Gabe since we were teenagers, and I don’t imagine knowing Gabe is the father has done much to change his mind.

I have no information to guide my outfit selection, so I settle on a scallop-hemmed, navy, A-line skirt that hugs my hips in just the right way, but is relaxed enough to hopefully not come across as too formal. That is, assuming formal and fancy mean the same thing. I’ve only ever worn it for work, but the way I see it, I might as well get some mileage out of it, while I still can.Who knows if I’ll ever be this size again. The allure of dressing up has me feeling a little spicy, so I choose a tight fitting, off the shoulder, white body suit for a top.

I’ve showered, shaved—with extra attention given to the bikini line—styled my hair, and finished my makeup. Not bad, all things considered. I stand in front of the full-length mirror, looking myself over from every conceivable angle and second guessing what I see. That is, until I hear two taps from a horn outside. Can it be that time already? I glance at the clock. Aww hell.

I mumble to myself, “Why did you honk?A text would have sufficed.” Do you want Daddy’s special kind of attention? You adorable goof. I swipe my phone from the table, grab my flats off the floor, and turn back for a final check in the mirror before shutting off the light and bustling down the stairs to yell my goodbye’s and don’t wait up’s as I rush out the door.

I stop on the porch, drop my shoes to the ground, and slip my feet mostly into them before running across the coarse gravel driveway. I can’t help feeling like a kid. Like I’m sneaking out right under my parents’ noses. It’s exhilarating, and liberating, and slightly terrifying, all at the same time. Gabe leans across the seat and pushes open the passenger door with a don’t-ask-what-I’ve-been-up-to smile on his face. I jump in the truck and order him to punch it, as I’m certain my father will charge out of the house with his shotgun in a matter of seconds.

But Gabe doesn’t heed my instruction. He doesn’t appear the slightest bit concerned that he’s in enemy territory. No, he simply leans a little farther over the seat and kisses me, then sits upright behind the wheel, fastens his seatbelt, and calmly shifts the truck into gear.

His calm disposition has me confused. “What's gotten into you today?”

Gabe stops at the end of the driveway and looks at me. “Hmm. Now that you’re here with me, everything feels right with the world. Why?”

“Um. Showing up here, do you want my dad to kill you?”

“Who Jim? Nah, I’m not worried about him.”

“Ready to tell me where we’re going, at least?”

Gabe straightens the wheel, then reaches his hand over and places it on mine. “Be patient a little longer. Okay? I want this to be a surprise.”

Ahh, his skin on mine—exactly what I’ve needed. I smile as I cross my arms over my chest. “Clock’s ticking, bub. You know you can only get away with crap like this because you’re so damn hot, don’t you?”

Gabe grins, but otherwise pretends not to hear me. “By the way, Mer—you look amazing tonight. Like, out of this world.”

“Ha. Think you can dig your way out with flattery, do you?” I look out my window to hide my smile.

The way he carries himself, the kindness in his words, the confidence behind his eyes, he always turns me on. But tonight, he's working at an entirely new level. He wears a white collared button down, fitted no less, that’s been carefully pressed, and a pair of dark pleated slacks, also sporting a crisp crease down the legs. Preppy is not his usual style, but it suitshim.

It’s only when the sign at the entrance of the reservoir comes into view that I realize where we are. To which, I react in the expected way—by punching Gabe in his shoulder. “Are you serious? Gabe Wilde, if you think for one second you are taking me fishing tonight, you better turn this truck around.”

Gabe holds the wheel steady with one hand while he rubs the sore spot with the other. “Ouch. I thought you come here to clear your head?”

There was so much excitement behind his words earlier, and for what? A lake? “So?”

“So, as far as I know, there’s hardly ever anyone else around. No?”

I relax into the seat a bit. “Okay, supposing that is true. While, it is a lovely evening to sit and watch the birds on the water, why did I have to dress up? I could be wearing a comfy pair of jeans and flip flops. I hardly think the water fowl would complain.”

Gabe bobs his head as he considers my words. “That’s true. I never thought about it like that. I’m sorry, babe. I wanted tonight to be special.” Gabe motions at the wicker basket and blanket on the floorboard of the back seat.

“You made us a picnic!” It doesn’t explain the need for the us to be dressed up, but it shows he’s put real thought into the evening and that there may just be more to this surprise than I know.

“That was the idea—but if you’d rather bail and go someplace else, I don’t mind. Tonight, is all about you.” Gabe stops the truck in the middle of the dirt road and twists in his seat to face me. “I want this evening to be perfect, Doll. Whatever that means to you. Just say the word and we’ll do it.” Gabe pulls my hand to his mouth and deposits several kisses on top.

I’m tempted to tell him my perfect evening is a last-minute flight to Paris and a five-star hotel when we arrive, but I’m not entirely sure the man wouldn’t drop everything and do it. “You are pulling out all your best moves, aren’t you, big guy?”

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