Page 47 of Absinthe Minded

Once again, his reaction surprised me. “I feel strange getting rid of their stuff. I don’t usually stay in here.”

“I get that, but I don’t think anyone would mind if you changed things to your taste.” He motioned from the collection of family photos to the stack of books on the nightstand.

Joe and Rebecca wouldn’t mind because they were dead, but the kids might have a problem with me messing with their parents’ things. “I’d rather not—”

“Do you like it here?” Chin raised, he stared down at me.

I wrapped my arms around my middle.Why is he so upset?“It’s okay.”

Gabe seemed to pick up on my distress and softened his tone. “If you ever decide you want to move, I’d be happy to help you and the kids get a new house.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” I forced myself to meet his gaze. “Besides, this is their home. How could I move them when they have been through so much?”

“Maybe they need a new beginning as much as you do.” He walked to the door. “Sweet dreams, Maggie.”

That’s it? He’s leaving?“Wait, you didn’t answer my question. I think I have a right to know what happens to your bar since I’m an employee now.”

“We can talk tomorrow. I’m going to turn in. Should I sleep in your bed?”

The change in his demeanor concerned me, but it also told me where to dig for information on the story.

“I’ll move.” I grabbed my laptop and marched to my room.

Gabe followed. “Maggie, wait. I didn’t mean to chase you off.”

I set the computer on my nightstand. “It’s fine. I’m sick, and you’re tired. We both need some rest.”

“I’d rather not think about giving up my bar.”

His expression reminded me of Zach’s any time he talked about his parents. Gabe mourned the loss of his bar. It made sense, but it broke my heart. I understood family obligations better than most people, but I couldn’t understand him turning his back on his dream.

I slid beneath the blankets and plucked the remote from the nightstand. “Still up for a movie? You can choose.”

“Sure, but what I could really use is a Jack and Coke and sex.”

I wanted to call him out for avoiding questions any time they hit too close to a nerve. However, he chose that moment to strip out of his jeans and climbed in beside me in his boxer briefs.

My stomach did a backflip that had nothing to do with the virus rampaging through my body. “I can’t drink, or I might throw up again, and sex is off the table.”

“Okay. How about a blowjob?” He poked my side.

“That’s sex.”

“No, it’s not. Everyone knows that. Bill Clinton made it legally not sex back in the nineties.”

I smacked his arm and curled up beside him.

“I’m kidding.” He flipped through the channels.

My phone rang from the other room.

“Crap.”

“I’ll get it.” Gabe hopped out of bed.

Fighting off exhaustion, I ran through my to-do list. I didn’t have time to get sick. I needed to finish the damned article and get paid before the custody hearing.

“Missed the call. It was a blocked number.” He tossed the cell to me, and it dinged with a voicemail alert.

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