“No, but my family did tie me naked to a tree to wait for the sunrise,” he pointed out calmly. “We’re straying from the point.”
I stuck my head under the rapidly cooling spray. “Which is?”
“That another man is sending you underwear.”
I could let him keep wondering, I mused, rolling my eyes. I could let Gabriel think I had a secret admirer, make him jealous. After weeks of wondering where he was, what he was doing, whom he was with, he deserved it. But I’d never been that girl, the game player, the girlfriend who played by asinine “rules” laid out in the self-help book of the week. And even though it would probably make me feel better, I don’t think Gabriel pushing a tree on top of some poor guy he suspected of being my suitor would help our relationship.
“It wasn’t another man,” I huffed. “It was Andrea.”
There was a heavy silence on the other side of the curtain. “Er … that wasn’t something I was prepared for. I thought maybe it was Zeb.”
“Ew!” I cried.
“Well, he’s been acting so strange lately,” Gabriel protested. “And I don’t see how Andrea giving you sexy underthings is any less disturbing. I don’t think anyone should be buying you sexy underthings but me.”
“Well, you didn’t.” I cut the water off and snapped the curtain open. I pushed past him and snatched a towel. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to eye level with him. “Andrea felt the need to step in for you. Instead of assuming the worst, you could just talk to me, Gabriel,” I said as he followed me into my bedroom. I yanked open a dresser drawer and pulled out my flannel cow pajamas.
“Not the cow pajamas, Jane, please, there’s no reason to let this ruin our evening,” he groaned. “I’m sorry.”
“Beg pardon?” I asked, cupping my hand around my ear. “What was that?”
“You heard me,” he grumbled. “With our hearing, it’s impossible for you not to have heard me.”
“No, I don’t believe I did,” I said. “Because I’m sure the Master of Poise could not possibly have just apologized to little old me.”
“Smugness is not attractive on you, Jane.”
“Smugness is one of my best features,” I retorted, backing him against the footboard of my bed. “I’m really, really good at it.”
“I’ve noticed,” he muttered, nuzzling his nose along my jawline. Laughing, he slipped his hand through my hair and kissed my temple.
I shrugged him off. “Hey, I’m still mad at you, Valentine’s Day skipper. You are going to be punished. And not in the fun way.”
“I acquiesce to your demands,” he said solemnly. He nodded at my bovine sleepwear. “Now, I think you should take this off.”
I snorted. “Not going to happen, my friend.”
And it didn’t. Instead of hot Valentine’s Day sex, I made Gabriel paint my toes lavender (he has incredibly steady hands) while we watched the most dreaded of all chick flicks, Sleepless in Seattle. I would say he learned his lesson, but I caught him wiping at his eyes toward the end.
“Are you crying?” I asked.
“No!” he exclaimed. I snickered and patted his shoulder. “It’s just, it was so unlikely, the two of them showing up at the Empire State Building at the same time after missing each other so often. And—”
“Do you want to sleep over?” I asked suddenly.
“Will I have to sleep on the couch?”
“No, you can sleep in the guest room,” I said sweetly as I secured the blackout curtains.
“I’d rather make a run for my house,” he muttered.
I pulled back the comforter for him. “Fine.”
He grinned and stripped down to his slacks. As a habit, Gabriel didn’t wear underwear. I guess he wasn’t feeling secure enough in my good humor to sleep in the nude. He fluffed the pillows on both sides of the bed and flopped down in giddy anticipation.
“What’s with you?”
“I’m just excited,” he said, grinning.