Falling for Hope Page 6

  Just horny.

  Maybe that was a start? He'd never really noticed before if looking at women had affected him the way Hope did. And her laugh…Heavens, her laugh made all of the blood in his body rush to his groin like nothing he'd ever known. Not in several millennia.

  She affected him. That much was true. When he was near her, he held his control in a tenuous grasp at best. He was aware that was lust, but he’d never realized lust could be so powerful. The images and sensations she evoked in him were unreal in their intensity. He wasn’t sure how long he could be around her without succumbing to them, and he didn’t want to. He had to be sure he wasn’t mistaking lust for what should be love. He had to be sure. But there was something about her that made his groin twitch in a pleasant way. And he wanted more of it. Could hardly wait for more, if he was honest with himself.

  The thing that was oddest about her though, was that she didn't question anything. She was aware when he gave her visions, and she took it as the norm. She even tried to do the same back to him, which was unheard of. Nobody had ever done that before. He’d read minds, but to have someone intentionally send him a vision? Never.

  She was so quirky, and he liked that. He was too serious, and she seemed to enjoy making him squirm. Maybe he needed that. So what was his problem? Why wasn't he falling in love with her? He was supposed to fall in love and become human, right? He'd found her. He liked her. He was definitely attracted to her. But it didn't hurt him that she wasn't sitting next to him right now, like Uri said. She wasn't his everything, like Rafe had said. Speaking of everything, Gabe wondered what The Boss was thinking about all this. Was Gabe doing it right? He'd seen men court women for ages, so he thought he was.

  Patience

  Yeah, The Boss was always harping on that patience thing. Well, Gabe could be patient. Sighing, he leaned back on his bench and watched the passers by, wondering what kind of clothes to buy for today when he went to see her. She had seemed to enjoy the gray dress pants he’d worn yesterday, but the images of him wearing them while he yielded a riding crop was a little disconcerting.

  He rose from the bench and walked out of the park, still lost in his thoughts of Hope, which soon enough turned to thoughts of the Boss. He wanted he and his brothers to move on, out of their current realm to humanity’s so He could fulfill some sort of requirement He had. As if he had others lined up to take their place. If that was the case, they hadn’t done their jobs to His satisfaction, and that knowledge hurt Gabe’s heart. He felt dejected that he’d done something so displeasing to warrant these sudden lusty feelings for a human.

  Lust. Ugh. How was he going to survive if these sensations were so prevalent within him? He battled the urges every time Hope was near him, knowing that to give in to them was sinful. Weren’t they? Or were they? Would they be so naturally overpowering if they were? Or was it another of His infamous tests, to see how he could handle them? If so, Gabe felt he was failing miserably. He didn’t want to stop his “job” but at the same time, Hope was fascinating to him. If he ever could fall in love, he would choose someone like her. But he didn’t want to lose his Father, either.

  Realizing he’d walked to a street corner, Gabe perused his surroundings. It was a highly trafficked corner, with a bus stop nearby. He could see an older woman standing on the corner, not moving, staring at the ground, apparently lost in her own thoughts. Tears streaked down her cheeks, and he felt a sudden desire to comfort her. Sending an image of serene lights and calming sounds to drive out the traffic bustle, he watched her as her eyes lifted skyward. Maybe if he kept working for The Boss, he wouldn’t dismiss him so abruptly. Gabe could show Him that he was indispensable.

  Without looking at him, she spoke. “My husband died yesterday, and now I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve been standing here all morning, trying to get the nerve to just step in front of one of these cars.”

  She turned to him after her statement, and Gabe saw an attempt at the face paint women wore, although it looked haphazard at best. Her silver hair still had a few bobby pins sticking out of it, where she had slept in pin curls but forgotten to take out the pins. She wore a rumpled house coat, buttons mismatched, which left her right knee exposed. Gabe felt an odd sensation that must have been akin to pity, but he wasn’t sure. Her glazed, watery eyes held a grief that he couldn’t relate to. His mind sent her another comforting image, healing hands of support, but she just shrugged and looked to the ground, before taking a step off the curb.

  “Wait!” Gabe’s hand reached out and grabbed a handful of fabric from her frock, to pull the woman back. Angry eyes met his, but she didn’t speak. Gabe’s eyes pleaded with her, begging her to seek comfort. “Do you want to talk about it? I’ll buy you a coffee…”

  The woman shrugged, and with one last longing glance toward the street, finally took Gabe’s proffered elbow and allowed him to lead her to a diner behind them.

  “Arnie swept me off my feet right before he went off to the war.” She began quietly, after he’d ordered them both coffee. “He was handsome, and I waited diligently for his return, because that’s what wives did back then.” She sniffed, using a napkin from the dispenser on the table to dab at her red nose.

  Gabe’s hand clasped hers, continuing to send her visions of comfort while he listened to her story.

  “I didn’t love him when we married, and I’ve always felt awful about that. I didn’t love him the way he wanted me to. I loved the idea of being married and keeping my own house. That was all. So it was ideal. We got married and he shipped out the next week. I got my wedding band and my house, along with weekly letters of devotion.” She stopped talking, and a single tear trickled down her cheek. She swiped at it with her balled up napkin. “Eventually, after he came home, it got better. We had children, and he was a good man. I grew to love him, and it was a love that ran deep, because it had grown slowly. It grew over the birth of our children, his support of his family, of me…When the kids left the house, it was just the two of us again, and it was so much better than it had been before. We had all these memories to look back on. Memories of our life together, our children. The family we’d built. He had turned into my everything. And now he’s gone.”

  “And you don’t know what to do with yourself?” Gabe prodded her, and she nodded. “Are your children close?”

  She nodded. “They’re at the house now. I just can’t face them. They mean well, but…”

  “They need you.” Gabe spoke quietly, turning the vision into one of the woman feeling useful, comforting her children. “It’s difficult now, but it will get better.” He knew she would see this as a platitude, probably an empty one, but it was true. It wouldn’t happen tomorrow, or the next day, but eventually it would get easier to deal with the grief. He’d seen it.

  Whether it was the words he spoke, or the visions he used to accompany them, eventually the woman seemed better. After about an hour of talking with him, she rose.

  “Thank you son, for talking with me. I’m sure you had better plans for your day than talking to some old bird, but I really appreciate it.” She offered him a weak smile, and he returned it.

  “Anytime. I hope you can come to terms with this. It will be difficult, but you can do it.” More platitudes, but she seemed to need them. Her color had slowly returned to her face, and Gabe saw a shadow of her former self lurking beneath her grieving exterior. He offered her a hug before walking out and watching her amble down the street.

  It was time to go see Hope.

  Chapter 8

  Hope had awoken to feed the cats and clean her apartment. She was a little embarrassed that Gabe had seen it the way it was, even with her little disclaimer. So she picked up dirty clothes, did dishes, mopped the floors, and dusted the fairies. Now that it was clean, she laid down on the couch to take a nap. Athena jumped up to lay between her legs, and Perseus laid down on the pillow next to her head. She closed her eyes and stroked the cats lazily listening to their purrs as she succumbed to fant
asy land.

  Gabe was watching her sleep, a tortured soul whose heart filled with love and desire every time he laid eyes on her. Also hunger. Gabe couldn't deny the hunger. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her scent, feeding his sick, twisted desire to have her, to taste her, to turn her…

  Something made Hope open her eyes, and they immediately landed on the sliding glass door to the balcony. She let out an involuntary shriek, immediately chiding herself, as it sounded exactly like her mother. It was Gabe standing outside, staring in, a funny look on his face. She jumped up, spilling cats in all directions, and ran to the door.

  "What? How did you get out there?" She looked over the railing to make sure an elevator hadn't been installed.

  "I…um…climbed up."

  "What? Why?"

  "Wasn't thinking straight. I wanted to come see you. Didn't mean to disturb your…um…rest."

  "That's okay. Come inside."

  He looked around and gave a low whistle. "Someone's been busy, or did your fairies do it?" The twinkle in his golden brown eyes made Hope breathless.

  "I was a little embarrassed that you saw it the way it usually is. I was hoping you'd come back after seeing what a big slob I am. So I cleaned." She shrugged nonchalantly, as if the effort hadn't been Herculean.

  "I like it. It's cozy." He settled himself on the sofa, and Hermes immediately jumped into his lap, only to be followed by Athena.

  "They like you. They don't usually take to well to strangers, especially Athena." She sat next to him, and stroked Athena's fur, watching his long fingers deftly stroke Hermes. He was wearing a tee shirt today and jeans, and Hope had to admit, even without the increased slobber factor in Gabe's vicinity, she would have been drooling.

  She could see clearly defined muscles under the shirt, stretched taut across his chest. Her fingers danced over the cat's fur in her lap, roaming up further, to stroke his stomach and chest. Gabe sucked in a harsh breath

  "Hope. What are you doing?" His voice sounded strained, and she knew she was getting under his skin.

  "I just was curious."

  "About what?"

  "If you're as hard as you look." She looked up at him innocently, to find him staring at her mouth.

  "Oh, I'm hard," he choked out.

  She giggled at the blush rising on his cheeks. It was cute.

  "You never explained something to me…"

  "I'll explain later." His mouth crashed down on hers, pushing her back on the couch. Gabe climbed on top of her, as if conquering uncharted territories, laying her down and nestling his waist between her legs. Hope immediately forgot what it was she was going to ask him, as thoughts and sensations of Gabe overwhelmed her. She wrapped her legs around him, and kissed him back for all she was worth. He tasted so good. Hope ran her hands up his back, and curled them in his hair, pressing him closer.

  He opened his mouth, and suckled on her bottom lip, while his hands crept up her sides. When they brushed her breasts, she hissed, and arched her back. Gabe slipped his hands inside her shirt, pulling it up. He gasped ragged breaths into her mouth.

  "Hope…"

  She moaned in response and slipped her hands inside his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Way easier than buttons.

  "I had to come back. To see you. I want you so bad." He rested his forehead on hers, and her heart melted at the look in his eyes. He looked remorseful.

  "It's okay, Gabe. You can have me." She smiled at him. "In case you couldn't tell, I want you too."

  He kissed her again, "I can tell, but I'm not usually one to sleep with someone I haven't known that long. No matter how beautiful." He kissed her once more. A long slow, searing kiss that curled her toes.

  She broke apart this time. "Just so we're clear, Gabe. I want to do this, so the ball's in your court. You stop when you're not comfortable. I've never had a man want me who was as perfect as you, and I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth."

  His confusion at her choice of wording was evident, but it dissolved into a questioning look on his face. "You won't be mad?"

  "I may be frustrated, but I'll get over myself." She trailed her fingernails up his back, and he pressed his hip into her thigh, where she could feel his erection pulsing through his jeans.

  "I've never had a woman do this to me before." He blazed a trail of hot kisses down her neck and over one shoulder before yanking her shirt over her head. The look in his eyes left Hope putty in his capable hands. He sat up and stared down at her, clad only in jeans and a bra. His hands kneaded her breasts, before spanning her rib cage. "You're perfect, Hope." He lowered his mouth to one breast, and sucked it, hot and wet through the lace of her bra, while the other hand toyed with her other breast.

  Hope squirmed and writhed under him, feeling an enormous pressure building inside her, pressing to get out. She was consumed with a need that had to be filled. By Gabe.

  In the blink of an eye, Gabe stilled. His hands went from everywhere at once, to clasp behind her back. He closed his mouth against her breast, and just lay there, holding her tightly, breathing in and out like he'd just run a marathon. She could feel the hot skin of his chest, rising and falling against her stomach, and she ached for him not to stop.

  But he was collecting himself. His ever-present self control had taken over, and he was starting to come back to himself. He turned his head and looked up at her, eyes wide with disbelief.

  "I never knew it could be like this…" It was almost as if he were speaking to himself, but he was looking at her.

  "What do you mean?" She ran her hands through his hair, which of course, was as soft as she wondered. It flopped back into place perfectly after each run-through of her hands.

  "The lust. It's so overwhelming, isn't it?"

  "Yes, it is." She ground her pelvis against him in illustration, and watched his eyes darken. "Ready to talk about it, yet?" What is he?

  "No. I don't think so. But soon, if you can wait for it."

  Really? Did he honestly think that she was going to run away from him? They'd talked enough that she was confident he wasn't a psycho, so whatever his big reveal was, was cool with her. But he needed to be comfortable to talk to her about it. "I'm in no big hurry. Although I am curious to know why a strong, hunky, intelligent, obviously successful messenger is interested in little old me."

  He chuckled. "Let's call it destiny."

  Images of Melissa suddenly flooded her mind, and all of the great things she had been “destined” to do. Hope struggled against him to sit up.

  "What is it? Did I say something?"

  He had his secrets, and so did she. In all the “talking” they’d done last night, she still hadn’t told him about her sister. Sure, she’d mentioned her, but he hadn’t asked, and she hadn’t divulged.

  "I don't believe in fate, Gabe. That's all."

  "Well, you may choose to call it something else." He sat up and reached for her shirt to hand it to her. "What do you believe, if I may ask?" His face was open, guileless. It wasn't a trap for her.

  "I'm not sure what I believe, but I don't believe that our paths were chosen when we were born or before. I believe that we have the power to create our own future, make our own choices. I believe that if I had wanted to, I could have said no to you on the first day you came into the library, looking for a place to sit."

  Gabe leaned forward, bringing his face close to hers. "You wouldn't have, would you?" His voice all low and husky and liquid sexy…Hope trembled with anticipation, because judging by the look in his eyes, he was going to kiss her some more.

  "Hell, no! You're hot!"

  "Well, as long as you believe in something good," he murmured, before devouring her lips again.

  Chapter 9

  After letting Gabe out and locking the door, Hope went out to her patio and sat on the bench to reflect upon Gabe's visit. She honestly couldn't believe her luck. He was gorgeous. And so far, no red flags had popped up, except he seemed bossy sometimes. But when he was alone with her, he
was so unsure of himself, it was endearing. And he liked her.

  There was more to him though, and he wasn’t quite ready to tell her. She was dying to know. There was something about the man that screamed, “Not of this earth.” But she hadn’t figured out yet what he was.

  Mr. Butterfly was there.

  "Hello, Mr. Butterfly." Hope said, amicably.

  The butterfly flashed at her, then offered back a small, "hello."

  Hope blinked but didn't say anything, unsure of her own hearing.

  "He's an idiot, you know," he flashed at her angrily.

  "Excuse me?" She looked around, over the railing, making sure no one was playing a cruel trick on her. Nothing there but a parking lot, devoid of people. Satisfied she was alone, she turned back to the butterfly. "What did you say?"

  "I said, he's an idiot. You're too good for him."

  Hope snorted. That was rich. Here she was trying to figure out what the hot guy saw in her and this bug thinks he ain't all that.

  "Whatever."

  "Look at yourself, Hope. You're sexy, smart, funny, and caring. You're so good. And he's nothing but a loser. A messenger boy. I bet he's homeless. Do you even know who he works for? What do you even know about him? Do you know what kind of a car he's driving?" His wings fluttered with his speech, and movement of his wings or a trick of the light, made the mouth on his back look like it was talking to her. It was eerie.

  "Do you have butterfly brains? Can you even see me?" She waved her hand in front of the butterfly, who flashed angrily at her. "I don't care if he lives in a cardboard box, drives a Gremlin and works for Jesus Christ! He likes me. He really likes me! And he's smart, sexy, and what's more, he thinks I'm sexy!" She motioned to herself, wearing baggy jeans covered in cat hair.

  "You could do so much better."

  "Oh yeah? Better how?" She was totally humoring the bug. It didn't get any better than Gabriel Love, and she knew it.

  "Lucifer's probably better than he is," the butterfly grumbled. Hope was reminded of a petulant teenager, and pooh-poohed him.