Second Nature (His Chance 2)

He nodded. “I taught myself to sew because I love lingerie, but it was tough to find things cut for a man’s body. This was made to match my favorite briefs.” He got up and opened the robe, revealing sexy, lace-trimmed underwear in the same grayish blue color and soft-looking knit fabric.

I whispered, “My God, Gabriel. Look at you.” His lean, strong body was perfectly accentuated by those sweet and sexy briefs, and by a gorgeous black tattoo of lilies that ran down the side of his hip and thigh. The tiny silver ring in his belly button matched my nose ring, but that seemed like a weird observation so I kept it to myself.

He grew self-conscious under my gaze and muttered, “I’m a mess,” as he reached up and tried to fix his hair.

“No, you’re not. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

“It’s sweet of you to say that.” He moved closer and ran his hand over the saturated black tattoo that covered my shoulder and upper arm. It was a compilation of gothic and fantasy images, including a winding staircase, a labyrinth, a dragon, and a dark forest, among other things. “I really like the way you represented addiction and your journey to leave it behind.”

I told him, “You’re the first person who’s ever understood my tattoo without any explanations.”

“Maybe it only makes sense to people who’ve traveled the same path.”

I sat on the edge of the mattress and looked up at him, and he met my gaze. For just a moment, something that felt an awful lot like anticipation passed between us. He ran his fingertips along my cheek as my hand brushed his hip.

We both pulled back when someone knocked on the door. Gabriel fumbled with the sash of his robe as he said, “That’s probably my friend Tracy. He messaged me a few minutes ago and offered to bring me some breakfast. I told him I had a guest, so he said he’d bring enough for two.”

Tracy turned out to be a scowling mountain of muscle. I knew at a glance he was ex-military, because he just had that look about him. He was probably six-foot-six, and since I was five-eleven on a good day, it was more than a little intimidating when he filled the doorway and glared at me. I was sure he’d offered to bring us breakfast for the sole purpose of seeing who’d spent the night with his friend.

“Riley Palma, meet Tracy Garcia.” The sudden tension in the room wasn’t lost on Gabriel, who seemed flustered as he continued, “Tracy’s a good friend. In fact, he came here with me from San Francisco, because I was worried about making the move on my own. Tracy, remember me telling you about Riley?”

I got up and crossed my arms over my chest, and he ran an appraising gaze down the length of me as he told his friend, “You always made it sound like he was a fragile little kid.” Okay, that definitely wasn’t my favorite description of me.

“We were both fragile,” Gabriel said, as he took a tray from Tracy’s hands, “and he was nineteen the last time I saw him, but I don’t think I ever described him as a kid.” Tracy’s look made it clear he didn’t even sort of trust me, and after an awkward pause, Gabriel added, “Thanks for bringing us some breakfast. I owe you one.”

“No problem. Call me if you need anything, I’ll be right upstairs.”

Tracy frowned at me one last time before he turned and left. Once the door shut behind him, I relaxed a bit and muttered, “He seemed fun.”

“He’s always been protective of me for some reason. Please don’t take it personally.” Gabriel placed the tray on the bed, then pulled two black pieces of clothing from a shelf in his closet and traded the robe for leggings and another long sweater. While he did that, I found my T-shirt and sweater and pulled them on, and he asked, “Want to eat on the balcony? It’s probably a little cold out, but we could bundle up.”

When I agreed, he found a pair of throw blankets, and I picked up the tray and followed him out a pair of glass doors to an absolutely stunning oasis. Potted succulents were clustered at each end of the balcony. There was also a wrought iron table with two chairs, and a big satellite chair loaded with cushions. I took in the panoramic view of Avalon and its sapphire blue harbor far below us as I said, “This is fantastic.”

“I think so, too. Whenever I’m not working, I’m usually out here with a book or a sketch pad.”

“I didn’t know you draw.”

“I’m not very good, but I like to sketch ideas for the lingerie I want to make.”

As I placed the tray on the table and we sat down across from each other, I said, “I always have random makeup ideas bouncing around in my head, and I sketch them out, too. That’s the only way I’ll ever keep track of them.”