He let his lips curve into a slow, crooked grin. He suspected she was still wearing the bra he’d seen earlier and he enjoyed the contrast of daring and sexy hidden beneath the almost-puritanical while shirt she had on now. He liked thinking he’d be the only one who knew the color and texture of that skimpy bra. But he was pretty sure Hannah needed some sexual experience beyond Russ, and as much as he wanted to do the honors, he knew he wasn’t the right man for the job. “I think it’s safe to assume he’d prefer Option A.”

  * * *

  RACE, THE MAN Gabe had set Hannah up with, was nothing short of gorgeous. He had blond hair, of course, just as Gabe had promised, a tall, muscular body, a perfect tan, and large white teeth he often revealed in a gleaming smile. When Gabe first introduced his friend, he announced that Race had been part of a male revue in Vegas. That information certainly didn’t impress Hannah, but she would have been okay with it if subsequent conversation hadn’t revealed the guy to be immature and egotistical.

  He was the male version of the stereotypical blond bimbo, she decided as she watched him talk, and knew by the devilish smile Gabe cast her every once in a while that, not only did he agree, he’d invited Race for that very reason. He was playing with her—and seemed to be enjoying it.

  While watching her, he entertained Ashleigh and her two girlfriends, Michelle and Jessica, so well they worshipped him with their eyes and hung on his every word—while she struggled to keep from yawning as Race regaled her with his latest modeling exploits. He’d just received a call from someone at Calvin Klein, he said, and was ninety-nine percent sure he’d be their next underwear model.

  She was a thirty-seven-year-old mother of two, and he was a twenty-four-year-old model with his sights set on New York and Paris. They were worlds apart, but she was determined to prove to Gabe that she could have as much fun tonight as he was. She told Race he was perfect for billboards across America and Europe, and of course the job would be offered to him because…gosh, he was so darn handsome. Then she told everyone she wanted to wash her hands and excused herself from the table so she could manage a brief respite in the bathroom.

  At least she no longer felt self-conscious about her blouse, she thought as she crossed the small, trendy restaurant. Race didn’t even seem to be aware of what she was wearing. Of course, Ashleigh had squeezed into a tiny black dress cut so low she nearly spilled out of it, so Hannah looked tame by comparison. It did seem a little odd, however, that the only person who really seemed to notice her, at least at their table, was Gabe. His eyes lit on her every few minutes and drank in what her blouse revealed, causing a sudden rush of heat to pool low in her belly. Then he’d give her a mysterious smile, and she’d respond by throwing herself into her role as the ideal date for Race with renewed enthusiasm.

  If he was trying to teach her a lesson, it was working. Setting him up with Ashleigh had been a bad idea. Wearing this outfit had been a bad idea. Spending the past two hours driving to Boise with him, talking comfortably about their days at Dundee High, the football team, her hopes for Kenny and Brent, and her photography business was a bad idea. Now all she wanted to do was ignore everyone else and draw him away.

  “Isn’t this a blast?” Ashleigh said.

  Turning in surprise, Hannah swallowed a sigh of disappointment to see that her friend had followed her into the bathroom. So much for finding solitude.

  “Yeah, a blast,” she said.

  If her tone fell a little flat, Ashleigh didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy gushing about Gabe. “I didn’t know he could be so friendly. He’s always been sort of…remote in the past, you know? But he’s actually very funny and nice and…well, I already knew he was one of the handsomest men alive.”

  When she spotted the mirror, Ashleigh immediately pulled out a small cosmetics pouch and began dusting her cleavage with powdery glitter. “And he brought that gorgeous friend for you,” she added. “Wasn’t that sweet of him?”

  Hannah started washing her hands. “You honestly think Gabe believes Race and I are a good match?”

  “Of course.” Ashleigh blinked innocently back at her in the mirror. “Why else would he bring him along?”

  To throw me out of my element, she thought. But she didn’t say that. “I don’t know,” she mumbled.

  Predictably, Ashleigh didn’t press her. She was in too much of a hurry to get back to Gabe. “The food will be ready soon, so don’t take long,” she said and rushed out of the room.

  Hannah slumped against the wall. The rest room smelled too strongly of deodorizer and was small enough to make her slightly claustrophobic, but a little discomfort was worth a few seconds alone. She wasn’t sure how much more of Race she could endure. Or was it the way Ashleigh and her friends fawned over Gabe that bothered her? She suspected, even if they didn’t, that he wasn’t particularly interested in them. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t end up taking one of them home with him for the night….

  She felt depression set in at that thought, then stood up straight. Wait a second! That was what she wanted to have happen, remember? She was doing this for Gabe, to interest him in life again, to get him acting like himself, to see him dating and enjoying the company of others. So what if he took a girl home? So what if he forced her to put up with a man like Race for a few hours as penance for pressing him a little? She’d gotten him out of his cabin, hadn’t she? She could be the victor here, if only she didn’t lose heart and let him beat her at her own game.

  Taking a deep breath, she marched out of the rest room—and nearly collided with a waitress delivering food to a nearby table. She jerked back to keep from knocking the poor woman’s tray to the ground, but her narrow heels slipped on the marble floor, and she gave a startled cry as she started to fall. She expected to hit the floor and embarrass herself in front of everyone, and would have if not for a strong pair of hands. Somehow Gabe was there at the right moment to pull her into his lap before the worst could happen.

  The waitress shot her a condemning look, righted her tray and scooted past them, leaving Hannah clinging, for a moment, to the man who’d caught her.

  “You’re okay,” Gabe murmured.

  “Where’d you come from?” she asked.

  “Race went to the bathroom right after you did. I was coming to tell you both that our food has arrived.”

  They’d all had a glass of wine while waiting for dinner. She could smell a hint of it on Gabe’s breath. “You smell good,” she said, out of nowhere, then cursed herself for not guarding her tongue.

  His eyes lowered to her lips, then dipped to the blouse he seemed to like so well, and she realized that she hadn’t come face to face with him like this since they were in high school. The kiss they’d shared twenty years ago flashed through her mind, raising her heart rate and tempting her to lean closer. It had been so long since she’d really kissed a man. She wanted one more taste of Gabe, one more good kiss to erase all the ones in between.

  If they’d been alone, she might have gone for it. Where he was concerned, she didn’t have much to lose. And he owed her something after setting her up with Race. The little pep talk she’d given herself in the bathroom had left her feeling feisty again. But they were surrounded by people who’d turned to stare when she nearly fell.

  “Thanks for catching me,” she said and quickly climbed out of his lap.

  “Too bad Race wasn’t around to do the honors,” he drawled.

  She knew he was teasing her, but she refused to acknowledge it. She was too embarrassed by the scene she’d created. Taking her seat as demurely as possible, she proceeded to push the pasta primavera she’d ordered around her plate while folks began to recognize Gabe. A man and two women approached him, asking for his autograph. Then his circle of admirers quickly grew.

  Race returned from the bathroom a few minutes later and continued talking about himself while eating his steak and shrimp. He seemed oblivious to the fact that Gabe wasn’t at the table. But Ashleigh, Michelle and Jessica obviously missed the man they’d been drooling over all evening. They seemed to like Race well enough, but it was Gabe they wanted to be with.

  They kept grumbling about the people who detained Gabe, but it was Hannah who finally got up to intervene. She could tell by the tension in Gabe’s shoulders that he wasn’t enjoying himself. The strangers were imposing on him, and they didn’t care that they were being rude. No wonder he insisted on keeping such a low profile.

  “Excuse me, but I’m afraid Gabe’s food is getting cold. Would you mind giving him a chance to eat?” She spoke with a sweet, warm smile, but looked at each one pointedly.

  “Oh, no, of course not…. Please, go ahead and eat,” they muttered.

  Gabe took hold of his wheels. “I wouldn’t want to be accused of neglecting my friends. Have a nice evening,” he said and wheeled back to their table.

  When she caught the expression on his face, Hannah feared she might have been too assertive. But she wasn’t about to let a bunch of insensitive people ruin his first night out. If that happened, maybe he wouldn’t accept another invitation.

  “You don’t have to be so nice,” she whispered to him as she passed by on her way to her own seat. “You’ve got a right to eat, too.”

  Ashleigh, Jessica and Michelle had watched the whole thing with their mouths hanging open. “Wow, Hannah,” Ashleigh said, recovering first. “Way to go.”

  Hannah was fairly certain Gabe wasn’t impressed. He insisted on taking care of himself, didn’t like being helped. So why had she let her protectiveness motivate her to interfere where she probably wasn’t wanted? If she hadn’t already been in the habit of looking out for her boys, she probably wouldn’t have done anything.

  Gabe might not have approved, but he didn’t seem too angry. In fact, when she caught his eye, he laughed and shook his head. “Did you have to do that?”

  With a meaningful glance at Race, she smiled brightly. “One good turn deserves another.”

  “We’ll see,” he said softly.

  Hannah had no way of guessing his intentions, but the promise in his voice definitely had her worried.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “I’VE DECIDED what you can do to make it up to me.”

  They were on their way home from Asiago’s, and Hannah was feeling full from the meal and relaxed from the wine. When Gabe spoke, she turned away from watching the highway rush under their tires. “Make what up to you?”

  Oncoming headlights momentarily lit his face, making his eyes shine like pieces of cobalt. “The accident.”

  Where was he going with this? “There isn’t any way to make it up to you,” she said. “Therein lies the problem.”

  “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

  As angry and bitter as she suspected Gabe was, he’d gone from ignoring her and trying to shut her out of his life to setting her up with a male model. Why hadn’t he rejected her and Ashleigh’s invitation? “You like toying with me, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Your crushing guilt makes you easy to bait.”

  “Not that easy,” she said. She didn’t bother denying the crushing guilt part. Sometimes she felt so bad about what she’d done she wanted to wake up in someone else’s skin. “Anyway, you’ve piqued my curiosity. How can I make it up to you?”

  He turned down the radio, which was playing Shania Twain’s “She’s Not Just a Pretty Face.” “I need my windows cleaned,” he said. “Since I started coaching, I can’t get around to it.”

  She blinked at him. “You want me to wash your windows?”

  “Only if it’d make you feel better.”

  She could tell he was fighting a smile. “What if it wouldn’t?” she asked bluntly.

  He let go of an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll just have to keep struggling along on my own.”

  She laughed out loud at his martyr act. “You don’t seem to struggle too much,” she said. “Except maybe when it comes to interpersonal relationships. Closeting yourself away for months on end isn’t exactly healthy behavior.”

  “I’m great at relationships,” he countered. “Look at how good we’re getting along.”

  When he ignored her reference to his seclusion, she figured he didn’t want to talk about the past three years.

  She wondered if he’d ever open up and share his pain with her or anyone else. He wasn’t an easy man to get to know; he had too many layers. She seemed to have peeled away the top one—the social persona he showed the outside world—but there were depths to him she knew she’d probably never see.

  Patti’s comments came to mind, and Hannah briefly wondered what it’d take to reach the very heart of him. She wanted to get to know the real Gabe. But she figured she should be grateful for the progress she’d made and, taking her cue from him, kept the conversation light.

  “Revenge is hardly a good basis for friendship,” she observed, raking her fingers through her hair.

  “Most women would consider being set up with a guy like Race a real treat.”

  “Sorry, but I have trouble devoting much time to a conversation about whether or not someone is losing their tan.”

  He shot her another glance. “Boy, are you picky. Now you’re looking for someone who’s young, blond, handsome and a good conversationalist?”

  “I’m not looking for anyone!” she said.

  “Race isn’t my only friend, you know.”

  “Stop right there.” She raised her hands. “No more blind dates. I already told you, I don’t want to remarry, so there’s no reason for me to go out with your friends.”

  “What about sex?”

  She refused to look at him. “What about it?”

  “You’re willing to give up that kind of intimacy for the rest of your life?”

  She almost said that his lifestyle suggested he was giving up that kind of intimacy, too. But this time she managed to curb her tongue. Although his amazement indicated otherwise, she wasn’t positive he could make love. “This night, this crazy conversation—it’s my fault, isn’t it? I couldn’t walk away three years ago, couldn’t say, ‘Sorry Gabe, better luck next time.’”

  The teasing glint in his eyes disappeared. “You couldn’t walk away three days ago,” he said, “but—” his full lips curved into a crooked grin “—I like that about you.”

  She felt unexpected warmth coming from him and knew she’d just peeled back another layer of his personality. That she was somehow getting closer to him made her feel…breathless. It had to be his smile, she decided. He’d never smiled at her like that before.

  “Considering what happened three years ago, it’s amazing you can like anything about me,” she said, trying to interest herself in the dark trees flying past her window instead of his far-too-handsome profile.

  “See? There you go with the accident again.” He slung an arm over the steering wheel, driving as comfortably as any other man. “You definitely need to do my windows.”

  She pictured him laughing and smiling at dinner, remembered the covert glances he’d shot her way—and how they’d made her skin tingle as if he’d touched her. She had an inkling that her plan to draw him out was backfiring, but he’d gone out tonight, hadn’t he? She wasn’t going to argue with success. “If I wash the windows, when would you like them done?”

  “What’s your schedule like tomorrow? Will the boys be home?”

  “It’s my weekend, but Russ called earlier, wanting to take them to a car show.”

  “And being the nice person that you are, you said yes, right?”

  His tone made her scowl. “I’m not a pushover,” she said. “At least not anymore.”

  A logging truck rumbled past going the opposite direction, making it difficult for her to hear Gabe’s response. “If you say so.”

  “It’s just that the boys were pretty excited,” she explained, feeling defensive. “How could I say no?”

  “You couldn’t,” he agreed, but she suspected he was teasing her and wasn’t happy that he’d pegged her as such a softie. She wasn’t weak. She couldn’t be. She’d endured the loss of her father, the death of her mother, the disillusionment of divorce. Yet she’d taught herself a trade, established a business and made a home for her boys.

  She’d built a good life, even if it was a little lonely. “Weak women get no respect.”

  “I didn’t say you were weak.”

  “You intimated that I was too weak to say no.”

  “I intimated that you’re too nice to say no,” he said. “There’s a difference. Anyway, it sounds like you’re free tomorrow.”

  “I have to work.”

  “You can’t afford to give me a couple hours?”

  She knew she could; she even knew she would. But he’d just accused her of being a pushover. She didn’t want to give in too easily. “Maybe.”

  “Great.” His self-satisfied smile would have irritated her—except she was determined to keep her priorities straight. Seeing Gabe smile was always a good thing. How many times had she laid awake at night, hoping to see that very thing?

  “Any chance you’ll bring me a piece of apple pie from the diner when you come out?” he asked.

  “I said maybe I’d come,” she reiterated.

  “I know you’re a tough, modern woman and everything, but something tells me ‘maybe’ with you always means ‘yes’.”

  She glowered at him. “That’s it.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  “No pie.”

  His teeth showed as his grin turned slightly wicked. “You’re drawing a hard line.”

  “My guilt has its limits.”

  “I’ll remember that.” They drove in silence for a few seconds, then Gabe glanced over at her again. “What do you like to eat?”

  “Why?”

  “Because, if you do the windows, I’ll make dinner.”

  Was he serious? He’d gone out with a group and now he was inviting her to his place for dinner? Of course, she was the woman who’d put him in a wheelchair, so it was only because he wanted her to wash his windows, or because he was finally craving a little casual company. Either way, progress was progress. “I like champagne, caviar, bacon-wrapped filet mignon, garlic mashed potatoes, maybe some chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert,” she said, going all out to get back at him for seeing through her so easily.