Page 53 of Claiming What Is Mine

“I wonder,” I breathe, then clamp my mouth shut against the words.

Gabe leans down. “What, Doll?”

“What would have happened if I’d trusted you back when we were kids? Would I have skipped all the bullshit I’ve had to live through and just gotten to where we are now?”

“Depends. Where do you think we are now?”

“Happy,” I say. “We’re happy. Getting married. Starting a family. Slow dancing to Bob Dylan. Pretty much everything we always talked about.”

“I hated to lose you back then. But I deserved to. I was too much of a selfish asshole to see what I had. As much as I hate to think of what you’ve been through, you were right. I had a lot to learn before I deserved you.”

I look up at him with my best impression of his devilish grin. “And you think you deserve me now?”

“Not for a second. You are so far out of my league it’s embarrassing. But I hope you don’t notice until you’re sporting my last name.”

I slap Gabe lightly on the chest and am working on a witty response when he leans down to kiss me. All responses, witty or otherwise, fly out of my head and I lose myself to the music, to him, to us. The song ends, and Gabe pulls back, smiling. “I hate to stop, but if we don’t, one of these fine people will probably be offended by what they see.” He pinches my ass and I know he’s right.

He leads me back to our seat and excuses himself to the men’s room. The moment he’s out of sight, a man pulls out Gabe’s chair and helps himself to his spot, as I try my best not to choke on the stench of body spray radiating from him.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he slurs, the lights overhead reflecting in his lacquered ginger hair. “I saw you come in.”

I sit back and cross my arms. “Then you must’ve seen the man I came in with, the one whose seat you’re occupying.”

“I don’t see him now.” He looks around the table. “A man who’s willing to leave a fox like you all alone, doesn’t appreciate what he’s got. Name’s Red, what are ya drinking?” He signals the waitress. “I’ll buy you another.”

“Not interested,” I say as the waitress arrives.

“Another of whatever she’s drinking.” He indicates my empty glass.

The waitress frowns. “Coke?”

“Sure. As long as you add a healthy dose of rum to it.” The creep laughs.

I place a hand over my glass. “Really, I’m set.” I shake my head at the waitress.

Red yells over the music. “What she means to say is thank you.”

“No asshole…” Gabe’s voice comes from behind me. “What she’s trying to politely say is…get the fuck out of my chair.” I sigh with relief. Gabe thanks the waitress who happily excuses herself and moves as far away from whatever is about to happen as she can.

“This is your chair, huh?” Red scoffs. “Don’t see your name on it.”

Gabe uncrosses his arms and points. “My chair. My woman. My table.” He brings his hands to my shoulders, softly rubbing them. “Last chance to leave before I prove my point.”

Color drains from Red's face. “Fine. Whatever,” he says as he scoots his chair back. “Up close, she’s not nearly as hot as I thought. Enjoy your Coke.” He lifts his lip in disgust and does his best to saunter away, but looks more like a dog with his tail between his legs.

“You good, Doll?” Gabe crouches beside me.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Irritated, but fine.” I force a smile.

“You shouldn’t have let him sit down.”

“He didn’t exactly wait for an invitation.” I roll my eyes. “And when I told him I wasn’t interested, he didn’t pay it any attention. What is it about me? Why does no one ever pay attention to what I’m saying?”

“Well, call it a hunch, but I think that guy was born with a blind spot for warning signs from women. I know the type, and they only respond to one thing.” Gabe winks. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”

He’s right and I know it. Besides, that guy was so far in the bag, I could have been waving a sign and blowing a rape whistle and he wouldn’t have taken the hint. But it rubs me the wrong way. I am sick and tired of having everyone else’s wants and needs override mine.

“What is it, Doll?” Gabe leans closer to be heard over the music.

I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s silly.”

“If it bothers you, it’s not silly.”

I shrug. “I’ll get over it, I’m sure. Besides. This is hardly the time or the place to talk about something important.” The band starts up a new song and the crowd cheers, proving my point. I force a smile and bob my head to the rhythm but Gabe’s not having it.

“Come on.” He stands. “Let’s get out of here.”

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