Trust Me (One Night with Sole Regret 11)

She did smile, though, when she finally got her shirt on. It was wrong-side out, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her.

When he and Melanie meandered into the kitchen, Nikki was sitting at the breakfast bar staring at the pan of lasagna like Garfield the cat, and both his dogs were watching her like she might toss the yummy-smelling dish in their direction at any moment.

“Can we eat?” Nikki asked. “I’m starving.”

Melanie collapsed onto the stool beside Nikki while Gabe went to the sink to clean the skins.

“You could have started without us,” Melanie said. “We didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“The lasagna’s been done for like an hour.”

“An hour? Surely we weren’t in there that long.”

“You were. And all that noise you were making was scaring the dogs.”

Gabe grinned to himself as he listened to their conversation.

“When do I get a turn on the Sex Stallion?” Nikki asked.

Gabe went perfectly still, and then turned to catch Melanie’s eye. “I think we have a name for it.”

“Good one, Nik,” Melanie said. She laid her head on the counter.

“Well?” Nikki said, both eyebrows raised. “You didn’t answer my question. When do I get a turn?”

“The Sex Stallion is for Melanie’s enjoyment and hers alone.” Gabe opened the dishwasher and placed the washed yet not sanitized skins next to a few dirty glasses and bowls on the top rack.

“That’s so not fair.”

Melanie lifted one arm and rested her hand on Nikki’s back. “Guess you should have seduced the drummer instead of the lead singer after you lied our way backstage.”

“I didn’t lie. I totally would have had a threesome with you and Shade. You were the only unwilling variable in that equation.”

Melanie laughed wearily. “Still unwilling.”

Gabe cut the lasagna and shoveled it onto plates with a small spatula. Their meal was still warm, but not exactly hot. “Are we going to eat at the table?”

“Does that require me to move?” Melanie asked, lifting her head just enough to look at him.

“Maybe eating will give you some energy,” he said, more than a little proud of his Sex Stallion for satisfying her to exhaustion.

“I bet that thing wouldn’t make me tired,” Nikki said, drawing a plate toward herself and digging in. “Melanie doesn’t have the sexual stamina I do.”

Gabe decided teasing Nikki about her extensive sexual practice was inappropriate considering her difficulties with sex addiction, but the joke did cross his mind, even if it didn’t escape his lips.

“Sit,” Melanie said, patting the stool beside her. “We can eat at the table next time.”

Her assurance that there would be a next time made him smile.

“You’re so wobbly, I’m afraid you’ll fall off your stool,” he said, sliding one plate in front of Melanie and the final one in the empty spot next to her.

“I’m not that wobbly.”

Nikki gave her a playful shove and immediately had to grab Melanie’s shirt to rescue her from falling off her stool.

“God, I want to ride that thing,” Nikki said once Melanie had regained her balance.

The blush on his bride-to-be’s face was so utterly charming that Gabe couldn’t resist kissing her before taking the stool next to her.

“I guess I do need to work on my sexual stamina,” Melanie said.

“I suggest daily workout sessions,” Gabe said. “With me.”

“I think I might need twice-daily sessions,” she said with a smirk. “I want to be in prime condition as soon as possible. I take my prototype-testing duties very seriously.”

“I can take some of the responsibility off you,” Nikki offered.

“Sorry, Nik. I’m going to have to be entirely selfish in this case.”

Nikki scowled and bit into a piece of garlic toast.

Gabe picked up his fork and took a bite of his lasagna. What his woman lacked in Sex Stallion– riding stamina, she sure made up for in cooking. “This is delicious, babe.”

“Glad you like it.” She used the edge of her fork to cut into her saucy, cheesy layers of noodles, but couldn’t seem to find the energy to put it in her mouth.

“Please, can I ride it?” Nikki asked. “Pretty please with my cherry on top.”

Gabe snorted and choked on his mouthful of lasagna.

Beau suddenly turned toward the front door and released a loud bark before scrambling off to investigate. He only did that when a vehicle pulled into the driveway.

“Someone’s here,” Gabe said, rising from his stool. Lady limped after him as he made his way to the front door. He peeked out the window and recognized his father’s truck in the drive. When his oldest sister climbed out of the passenger seat, his heart filled with joy. It had been months since he’d seen Leslie. She was always so busy with her residency in Boston that she rarely made it back to Texas. And his plans to visit her when the band’s tour took them through the New England states had obviously fallen through.

Mom was the next to shift out through the passenger door, carefully holding a plate of her latest foil-covered food offering in one hand. She smoothed her free hand over her short light-brown curls and slammed the truck door. Dad brought up the rear, walking slower than the women as he used his cane to assist his stiff left leg. When Gabe opened the door, Beau ran out to greet their latest guests. Lady got only as far as the top step, but based on the enthusiasm of her tail wags and her high-pitched bark, she was happy to see them too.

“I didn’t know you all were coming,” Gabe said. They’d been warned about just showing up more than once, but the warnings did no good. Not that he really minded unexpected visits. But now that Melanie was living with him, his family might catch them in a compromising position or three, especially if they happened by his house during prototype runs.

“I texted you over an hour ago,” Leslie said. “You never responded, and since we were in the neighborhood . . .” She grinned, her green eyes flashing with familiar teasing.

“Mom and Dad live next door,” Gabe reminded her, though next door was almost a mile away. “They’re always in the neighborhood.”

Leslie climbed the porch steps and hugged Gabe. “You’re the fool who thought it was a good idea to live within spitting distance of them,” she said quietly.

“Not everyone wants to move to Boston to become some fancy brain surgeon.” He gave her an extra tight return squeeze as pride swelled in his chest.

“About that . . .”

“How’s the ol’ girl doing?” Dad interrupted, bending over to give Lady some attention. “You didn’t have to rush home, son. We could have taken care of her.”

“What’s going on with the band?” Leslie asked. “Daddy said you guys broke up, but that can’t be right. How can I tell my friends that my hot little brother is a rock star if your stupid band breaks up?”

Gabe shoved her. “It’s all about you, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.” She grinned and peeked around Gabe’s back. “So is she here? Your new girlfriend?” Her final question was spoken at a whisper.

“She’s here. We just sat down to eat dinner, but come on in.” He held the door open for everyone, and his cozy dinner ins

tantly became a party.