Chapter 16

A week had passed since the night I’d taken Nathan to the game. Patrick and I had only been able to see each other once that week because of his schedule. It was getting to the point that I was realizing that I was going to have to get used to a distant relationship with him. We just weren’t going to be able to see each other as much as other couples might.

I thought about it even as I painted a scene that didn’t reflect my feelings on that at all. I’d woken up this Saturday morning feeling hopeful and a little dreamy. I couldn’t explain where that feeling had come from, but I also couldn’t say I hated it. As I worked on the painting I heard my phone ring. I noticed it was the number that would come up if someone was downstairs calling from the lobby directory.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.” I smiled at the unexpected sound of Patrick’s voice. “Dudley and I are downstairs and were wondering if we could come up.”

“Of course! I’ll buzz you in.” I hit the button on the phone necessary to unlock the door and then made my way to my apartment door to open it for them.

We hadn’t had any plans for today so I was caught a little off-guard. I glanced down at the paint stained sweats and t-shirt I was wearing as I self-consciously put a hand to my ponytail. There wasn’t time to change, so Patrick was just going to have to live with seeing me look like a mess. A moment later I heard him and Dudley walk through the door.

“Hey,” I greeted him when he walked around the corner, led by Dudley.

“Hi.” He walked immediately over to me and kissed me lightly. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.” I put a hand up to my face, touching the frame, suddenly remembering I was still wearing those, too.

“I don’t often. Usually I have my contacts in, but I just hadn’t gotten around to that yet today.”

“I think they look good on you.” I smiled into the second kiss he gave me.

“Not that I mind, but what are you doing here?” I asked.

“I got home after practice and realized that I’d have much more fun spending the day with you than spending it alone. I hope it’s okay that I just came over.”

“It is. I’m just sorry you had to walk in on me looking like this,” I told him, grabbing onto my t-shirt and glancing down at myself. He laughed.

“I really don’t mind,” he assured me.

“I was just painting, so I didn’t want to wear anything nice, you know?” He nodded in understanding.

“Can I see what you were working on?” he asked.

I smiled at his interest and led him back to my studio. I pointed at the painting that was maybe only half complete and waited to hear what he had to say. I was never nervous about showing anyone what I had painted. I held no delusions that I was the next Rembrandt or Picasso and I was very aware that people had differing tastes in art as well. Patrick looked at it for a while before he spoke.

“There are no people on the beach,” he commented.

“I know. It’s on purpose,” I told him.

“You don’t like painting people, or you didn’t want there to be people?” he asked.

“I didn’t want there to be people, or hotels, or tourist traps,” I explained.

“Why not?”

“Because that right there is paradise.”










Patrick glanced over at Gabrielle when she said that. He could tell by the tone of her voice that there was more to her calling it paradise than it being just a peaceful beach. Her gaze had changed as well, like she’d gone into the painting for a moment. He stayed quiet as he watched the faraway look in her eyes and wondered what had happened to her.

He had a feeling there was more to her strange silence about her past than just losing her family, but he’d never been sure before. Now he believed it even more as he watched her disappear from the moment. Her idea of paradise was away from people, away from everything. He knew losing family could be traumatic, but there just had to be more to her story than that.

As he watched her he saw light slowly come back into her eyes. He knew she was coming back from wherever she’d gone and just waited her out, not wanting to rush her. Finally she turned and looked at him, a smile forming on her face. He couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“I’m really glad you came over,” she said to him. He reached out and pulled her into him.

“I am too.”

They walked out of the studio and sat on the couch in the living room. They watched Dudley and Loxley run around playing with each other while they talked. After a while they decided to take the dogs for a walk in a nearby park. It felt surprisingly warm for a late afternoon in December, but Patrick wasn’t complaining.

They held hands as they walked. He was struck by how nice it was to be holding hands with someone as they walked their dogs. He’d never had that feeling with anyone before. It felt amazing and unsettling at the same time. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to fall for Gabrielle. He was already on his way. He’d be more than happy to willingly let it happen if it wasn’t for that secret of hers. He just wanted to know what it was before he let himself fall completely.

“I’m hungry. Do you want dinner?” she asked, as they walked back into her apartment.

“Yeah, dinner sounds great. What are you in the mood for?” he returned. She shrugged and then opened her refrigerator.

“Not sure. What about you?” He watched as she moved things around and opened drawers, before opening the freezer to do the same.

“Are you planning on cooking dinner?”

“You need a home cooked meal once in a while,” she told him, turning to look at him over her shoulder and raising an eyebrow. It was adorable.

“Well, thank you. Anything you want to make would be fine,” he assured her.

She got to work taking things out and placing them on the counter. He sat down at a stool at the island in the kitchen and watched her work. For someone who was not a cook like he was, he was amazed at her. She never measured a single thing. Just over an hour later when a plate of fantastic looking lasagna that Gabrielle had made from scratch was placed in front of him, he forgot about wanting to hold off on falling for her.

“This is amazing,” he complimented her.

She beamed over at him. He was telling the truth. He’d been to Italian restaurants run by real Italians that couldn’t cook lasagna half as well as she had. When they were done he grabbed her plate and took it to the sink, where he got to work doing dishes. It was the least he could do for a meal like that.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Doing the dishes,” he responded.

“I can see that. Why are you doing my dishes?”

“Because you cooked me dinner, so I should do the cleaning.” She smiled, sat back, and didn’t argue. When he was done, he walked over to where she was playing with the dogs. She turned to him, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

“Thank you for doing the dishes.”

“I’ll keep doing them too, if that’s the thanks I get.” She grinned up at him and kissed him again.










I don’t know where I got the balls to just walk up and kiss Patrick the way I did. I’d never been that kind of person. Somehow he just brought it out of me. Now as we stood there in the middle of my living room, kissing like the world would end if we stopped, I wondered why I’d spent so long avoiding guys. Then again, I somehow had the suspicion that no other guy would have made me feel like Patrick did.

His hands had been planted on my hips, but now he was running them slowly up my sides. I shivered at the touch, and pulled myself as close to him as I could get. The kiss became more and more desperate as we clung to each other and I was struck by a feeling I’d never felt in my life. I wanted him. I really wanted him.

Never before had I felt this need to be with someone before. It was a little unnerving and so right at the same time. I’m not sure who initiated the movement, but I soon realized that we were heading in the direction of my bedroom, our lips still connected. Part of me wanted to stop him, and the other part of me was making sure we made it there safely.

Once in the bedroom Patrick broke the kiss to trail his lips over my jaw and down my neck. I felt like everywhere he touched me was on fire, and I let out an involuntary moan. His hands trailed back down my sides and grabbed the hem of my shirt. They hesitated there for a moment, but once he realized I wasn’t going to stop him, he lifted my shirt over my head. I couldn’t have stopped him if I wanted to. He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes.

“If you don’t want to do this, tell me now. If we go any farther, I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop.”

I took in what he said and only hesitated for a second. Not trusting my words, I instead used my lips to kiss him long and hard. I realized I didn’t just want this, I felt like I needed it. It felt right and I had to know that my past experiences with this weren’t the real thing. I wasn’t at all let down. There were feelings, touches, emotions, I’d never experienced before. As we lay there cuddled up afterward I was struck by the feeling of being safe, satisfied, and happy. If I had been an emotional person, I might have cried.

“What happened to your arms?” Patrick asked me, running a hand over them. I took in a sharp breath as I looked down at them. I’d completely forgotten about the scars on my forearms. I’d never before forgotten about them. Now I covered them self-consciously.

“There was an accident,” I started, hesitating slightly. “The glass.” I let my voice trail off, not finishing the sentence.

I felt awful about the answer, and now was not the time to talk about it. Patrick’s only response was to take both of my arms and kiss his way down one and then up the other. The chills that ran through me were unexplainable. I’d always gone out of my way to keep the small scars covered, but now I resisted the urge to do that and cuddled back up to Patrick.

“What are your plans for Christmas?” he asked after a long silence. I turned my head at the unexpected question.

“Probably spending it here with Loxley like I usually do,” I told him. He didn’t say anything in response and I nestled back into the spot I’d been in.

“Come home with me,” he said a moment later. I bolted upright, bringing the sheets up with me, and putting some distance between us.

“I’m sorry, what?” He couldn’t have just said what I thought he did.

“Come home with me for Christmas,” he repeated. I shook my head vehemently.

“Patrick, I can’t…..it wouldn’t…..I just…..” He sat up as I stammered over my words.

“No one should spend Christmas alone. I want you to come with me. I want to spend Christmas with you.”

As I looked into his eyes I thought of a million reasons why I couldn’t possibly go home with him for Christmas. I continued to keep a small distance between us and shake my head no. Even as I did all of those things I heard myself tentatively agreeing. He smiled and pulled me back to him, placing a kiss on my forehead as he did so. I settled back down next to him, but my brain was going a mile a minute. I hadn’t spent a single Christmas with anyone for the last nine years because it had been too hard. What had I gotten myself into?