Page 17 of Forbidden Passions

“I usually read. Split wood if needed.”

“Sounds thrilling,” I teased.

“It’s peaceful,” he corrected. “That’s the point.”

I glanced toward the window, where the storm continued unabated. “Well, we need something to do, and the light’s terrible for reading.”

Gabriel surprised me by suggesting board games.

“Board games? The kind where you have to have two people to play? How anti-hermit of you?”

“Don’t go psychoanalyzing me. They came with the cabin.” He pointed to a large wooden trunk near the fireplace. Inside I found chess, Scrabble, backgammon, and to my delight, an old Monopoly set.

“Monopoly?” I held up the box, grinning. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Again, I didn’t put them there.”

“Right. But you didn’t get rid of them either.”

I cleared off the books from the small side table and took a seat on the floor. “You want to be banker?”

He gave a deep sigh, and if I was interrupting his grunts and groans correctly, a world weary, why am I letting you do this to me kind of sigh. But he sat down in the armchair. Max walked over to the rug in front of the fireplace, twirled around a few times then settled in for his midmorning nap.

“Sure, I’ll be the banker.” He paused for a moment and then said. “My sister liked to be banker.”

It was the first personal detail he’d volunteered, and I seized on it immediately. “You have a sister?”

“Had.” His expression closed off again quickly. “She died. Cancer. Five years ago.”

The way he said it—quiet, clipped, final—sliced right through me. Not only was he dealing with the stuff he’d brought back with him from the military, but he’d lost a close family member.

My heart clenched. “I’m sorry, Gabriel.”

He nodded once, accepting my condolences but clearly not wanting to discuss it further. But it stuck with me. The shadow in his eyes. The grief that lived inside his stillness. He didn’t just lose people—hekeptlosing them. That’s what it felt like. Like he carried every loss with him.

The cabin was silent for the next hour except for the soft thud of the dice as they landed and my soft squeal of delight when Gabriel finally started having to pay me rent.

After a while, my body protested sitting on the floor and I knew I had to move. “Can we take a break? Or do you want to resume this tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is fine.”If you’re still here.That thought hung in the air between us. Then, a crash of thunder filled the room. The lights flickered but stabilized.

“Your generator’s earning its keep,” I observed quietly.

Gabriel nodded. “It’s reliable.”

“Just like you,” I replied. And meant it. Who else would have offered shelter to a woman and her dog? And made her feel safe while doing so.

I put the game back together and our fingers brushed as we both reached for the lid. It was a tiny thing. A spark. But it hit like a match to dry tinder.

“Now, if I can get up. I think my foot is asleep.”

I tried to maneuver onto my feet as gracefully as I could but Gabriel moved faster, coming to stand beside me. Without a word he reached down and helped me up in one smooth move. My momentum brought me dangerously close to his chest.

I pressed my hands against him, my palms on a solid wall of muscle. “Thank you for humoring me.”

“You’re welcome.” The moment stretched out as if we both wanted to say something, do something.

I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to lean forward and kiss him. My dreams last night had been filled with him turning to me, pulling me into his arms and having his wickedly delightful way with me.

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