Page 70 of Gabriel's Angel

“The money?” When she opened her eyes, they were dark and damp. “I don’t think that will matter to him. It doesn’t to me. As far as family goes, he already has one. Gabe, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Then don’t. You were the one who stood up to her.”

“I did.” She brushed the tears away, and then there was laughter as she threw her arms around him. “Yes, I did. No one’s ever going to take him away from us. I want to celebrate. To go dancing, have a party.” She laughed again and squeezed him hard. “After I sleep for a week.”

“It’s a date.” He found her lips with his, then held them there as she melted into him. Another beginning, he thought, and this time they’d take the first step properly. “I want to call my parents and let them know.”

“Yes, right away.” She pressed against him for a moment longer. “I’ll give Michael his bath, and then we’ll be down.”

It was nearly an hour before she came downstairs, bringing a more contented Michael with her. The baby, fresh from his bath, was awake and ready to be entertained. Because her jeans had gotten wet, she’d changed into a pale lavender shirt and slacks. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and both she and Michael smelled of soap and soft talc. Gabe met her at the foot of the stairs.

“Here, let me have him.” He curled his arm around the baby and tickled his belly. “Looks like you’re ready to go field a few grounders.”

“So do you.” Envious, Laura muffled a yawn. “You haven’t had any more sleep than I have. How do you manage it?”

“Three decades of clean living—and a body accustomed to all-night poker games.”

“Your father wants to play. Maybe Michael could sit in.”

“Maybe.” He tipped her chin up with his finger. “You really are ready to drop, aren’t you?”

“I’ve never felt better in my life.”

“And you can barely keep your eyes open.”

“That’s nothing five straight hours of sleep wouldn’t fix.”

“I’ve got something to show you. Afterward, why don’t you go up and take a nap? Michael and I can entertain ourselves.” His thumb traced along her jawline. Until Laura, he hadn’t known that the scent of soap and powder could be arousing. “Once you’ve rested, we can have our private celebration.”

“I’ll go now.”

He laughed and caught her arm before she could start back up. “Come see first.”

“Okay, I’m too weak to argue.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for later.” With the baby in one arm and the other around Laura, he walked into the parlor.

She’d seen the painting before, from the first brush strokes to the last. Yet it seemed different now, here, hung over the mantel. In the gallery, she had seen it as a beautiful piece of work, something to be studied by art students and patrons, a thing to be commented on and discussed, dissected and critiqued. Here, in the parlor, in the late afternoon, it was a personal statement, a part of all three of them.

She hadn’t realized just how much she’d resented seeing it in Marion’s gallery. Nor had she known that seeing it here would make her feel, as nothing else had, that she had finally come home.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

He understood. It wasn’t vanity or self-importance. “I’ve never done anything in my life that compares to this. I doubt I will again. Sit down, will you?”

Something in his tone had her glancing over at him before she settled on the couch. “I didn’t know you intended to bring it home. I know you’ve had offers.”

“I never had any intention of selling it. I always meant it for here.” Resting the baby on his hip, he walked over to the portrait. “As long as I’ve lived here, I haven’t done anything, or found anything, that I wanted to hang in that spot. It goes back to fate again. If I hadn’t been in Colorado, if it hadn’t been snowing, if you hadn’t been running. It took what had happened to you, and what had happened to me, to bring us together and make this.”

“When you were painting it, I wondered why you seemed so driven. I understand now.”

“Do you?” With a half smile, he turned back to her. “I wonder just what you understand, angel. It wasn’t until a little while ago that I realized you have no idea what I feel for you.”

“I know you need me, me and Michael. Because of what happened to all of us, we’re able to make things better.”

“And that’s it?” He wondered if he was pushing too far, but he thought that if he didn’t push now it might be too late. “You said you loved me. I know gratitude’s a big part of that, but I want to know if there’s anything more.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

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