Page 27 of Always Been Mine

“I’m sure Beatrice knows this. She’s not obtuse.”

Porter nodded and walked to the door. “She’s at the condo right now—”

“I don’t get it, Admiral, why are you helping me so much?”

“I don’t want you to make the same mistake I made.”

“What?”

“The greatest mistake of my life.” An expression of regret flashed across the admiral’s face. “I didn’t fight for the woman I love. I let her go.”

“You divorced her when you had seventeen years to fix your marriage,” Gabe scoffed, angry and confused at the admiral’s words.

“I’m not talking about Beatrice’s mother.”

And with that bombshell, the admiral left. Gabe stared at the door for a while.

“Well, hell,” he muttered.

5

The intercom buzzedin her kitchen.

Beatrice hurriedly wrapped herself in a robe. It was 11:00 p.m. Travis, Caitlin, and Nate had just left. They didn’t waste time showing their solidarity with her current situation. Before they had arrived, she spent almost an hour on the phone with Doug, who wanted to fly back from Florida tonight. Beatrice convinced him not to change his flight and just return the next day as he originally planned.

“Yes?”

“Hey, babe, buzz me in.”

Gabe.

“It’s almost midnight. I need some sleep, and I’m in no mood for a booty call.”

“I won’t touch you. Well . . . unless you beg me to.”

In your dreams, Sullivan.

“Go home, Gabe.”

“I made hot chocolate,” Gabe cut in abruptly. “Old-fashioned way. Just how you like it.”

Beatrice paused. “Bittersweet?”

“Seventy-percent Belgian chocolate, babe.”

That sneaky bastard. She could feel her mouth drooling.

“Poppy?”

Damn Gabriel Sullivan.

Five minutes later,she opened the door to a tousled-hair, scruffy-jaw, hot as hell man holding a thermos of liquid ambrosia. Gabe had learned to make proper hot chocolate—thick and bittersweet—from a friend who lived in Paris. Beatrice had never tasted anything quite like it. But hot cocoa aside, she thought this was the perfect opportunity to give him a logical argument to his idea of getting back together. He needed to stop turning up at her condo, announced or unannounced.

“Hey,” he whispered, tawny eyes, warm and melting like caramel, gazed down on her.

She said nothing, just stood aside and waved an arm to let him in. Closing the door behind him, she walked to the kitchen to get some mugs. Beatrice was very aware that Gabe was checking out her condo.

“Nice place, great view,” Gabe murmured. “Must have cost a mint.”

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