Marquita Valentine - Not Over You

Pain flared out, to her ear and eye socket. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she whimpered, cupping her cheek.

Gabriel was at her side in an instant, gently turning her face and sucking in air through his teeth. “Are you okay?”

All she could do was look at him through a sheen of tears.

“Yeah, I know, seriously dumb question.” He kissed her forehead, and she thought she heard Elise hiss.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, then his eyes got all hard. Summer wanted to flinch again, but he fixed his furious gaze on the redhead still standing there. “You broke up with me, not the other way around, and she’s not responsible for our decisions.”

“Yes, I am,” Summer whispered miserably. “You saw us in the park, and that’s why you broke up with him.”

“No,” Elise said, shocking her. “I broke up with him, because it’s one thing to be second to a memory. It’s quite another to have to be second to the real thing.”

“I didn’t make you second,” Gabriel insisted.

Summer backed away, going to the cabinet in the corner to find a purple jar with some ointment to ease the swelling and redness on her cheek. It had to be red and swollen, because it stung like hell.

Elise shook her head. “I wasn’t about to give you a chance, but seeing the two of you… It just pisses me off that I wasted so much time on you.”

“I never looked at it that way.”

“You never had to, women flock to you, you idiot.” Elise huffed. “Men, it’s so easy for you. Get older and you look better. We get older and have to compete with younger women who y’all think look better than us.”

“Gabriel’s not like that,” Summer said, rubbing in the lotion. Immediately, the stinging lessened.

“They’re all like that.” Elise gave Summer a hard look. “I wish I could say sorry and mean it, but I can’t. It felt good, and you deserved it anyway, for all the other relationships you helped destroy.”

Gabriel heard Summer’s sharp intake of breath and almost cursed.

He knew what she was thinking, what Elise had planted in Summer’s brain. Soon, it would take root, and all the weeks of trying to build something new would wither away and die.

“Then you might want to hit the other one then, for my future misdeeds,” Summer snapped, marching from the back of the store to where Elise stood. She tipped up her chin and turned her head to one side. “So very many men and so very little time.”

Forget soon; it was instantaneous. He briefly closed his eyes. “I suggest you leave, Elise, before I call Sheriff Barnes.”

“You’d have me arrested?” Elise looked genuinely horrified.

“If Summer wants to press charges, then yes. You assaulted her, without provocation.” He should know. So many of the teens he worked with had that very wording on their rap sheet. He had it on his.

“I won’t press charges,” Summer said, much to Gabriel’s surprise.

Elise’s mouth flattened as she made a little noise of satisfaction. “I’ll be going.”

Neither he nor Summer bothered to say anything more as Elise marched out of Carolina Dreams. Summer merely waited until his ex has left and then moved to lock the door.

When she turned to face him again, he winced at the bright red handprint. “Do you want some ice for that?”

“No.” She pushed back her shoulders, tipping her nose in the air. “I want a timeframe from you, so I can know when to expect a ring and plan a wedding with a honeymoon. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve—I’ve,” her lips trembled, “had a m-man?”

So they were back to this, once again. Damn Elise for this, and damn him for letting things escalate. “It’s best if you had dinner with my parents, first, so they can get to know you.”

“They already know me by reputation, angel. Everyone does, no matter what you or Jemma Leigh say.” She gave him a brittle smile. “You two want me to think like y’all, like everything is rose-colored glasses and Fourth of July parades, but I’m not buying it. The mark on my face proves nothing has changed in this town.”

That evening, Gabriel walked the mostly deserted streets of Holland Springs. It was almost ten, and the only shops still open were the local drugstore and movie theater.

Normally he’d be home now, but one of his client’s parents called him, worrying because their son hadn’t come home from school. It had taken him a good two hours, coordinating with local law enforcement officials, to track the teen down, but an anonymous tip had helped, and the fifteen year old was back where he belonged.

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair. Small town or big city made no difference to a teenager looking for trouble. Though Holland Springs was not a big city by any stretch of the imagination, the town had grown over the past few years.

New subdivisions and strip malls had been built, but the downtown, with good planning and financial backing from influential citizens, had remained vibrant, even when the local Wal-Mart had turned into a superstore. Many had proclaimed that expansion as a death knell for local businesses, but as with most things, the rush to judgment and end-of-the-world wailing were all for nothing.

New businesses had cropped up, offering services and items that the Wal-Mart didn’t carry. Honestly, he thought it was pretty hypocritical for people to not want something that the majority, no matter their income, could afford. Where else were they supposed to shop for groceries and clothes?

Yeah, if there was one thing he hated in this world, it was hypocrites. Which is probably why he was so determined to prove to Summer that he wasn’t one—at least, not anymore. He wanted to prove to her that, for the most part, people could be counted on to be kind and caring when push came to shove… not everyone, but most.

Dear God, he prayed he was right.

He exhaled and took a right onto Ivy Lane.

A light shone in the second-story windows, and he frowned. It was doubtful that Summer had left the light on. She was too conscientious of stuff like that, and she had the uncanny ability to see in the dark like a cat.

Just then, a black cat jumped up on the window, rubbing its body back and forth on the glass. What in the world was Blackbeard doing there?

Maybe Summer had some inventory to do. Maybe he could check on her, offer his help, or at least his company.

Dashing around the back, he checked for her truck and found it, gleaming under a street lamp. With a smile, he strode to the back door, intent on knocking, when Blackbeard came running out, leaving the door ajar.

The cat was used to roaming where he wanted, and most of the townspeople knew who he was and gave him little treats, so Gabriel didn’t bother to try to catch him. Instead, he slipped through the door, and made his way upstairs, calling Summer’s name.

“Gabriel?” She appeared at the top of the stairs, eating a bowl of something while only wearing a t-shirt.

He almost tripped up the stairs at the sight of her shapely legs. The t-shirt barely covered her, so it left little to the imagination. Immediately, he stopped his ogling and froze on the stairs, staring the wooden steps. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were, uh… What are you doing here so late?”

“Eating a bowl of cereal while Blackbeard goes catting around.”

He frowned at the wood grain. “Do you do this every night?”

“No.”

Relief flowed through him. Although, he still couldn’t figure out why she was dressed the way she was. It wasn’t his business, not completely, but it was strange.

“Usually I’m entertaining gentleman callers while he roams the streets,” she said in that voice he’d grown to dread. The one that meant he needed to turn around and go back the way he came, if he knew what was good for him.

Only he knew what was good for him—she was. She didn’t believe it, was all.

“Sounds fun. Care to entertain this gentleman?” he asked, silently praying he was going about this the right way.

The clink of the spoon dropping into the bowl made him grin. He risked taking another look at her. Summer’s mouth had dropped open, and then she caught him looking and put on a haughty face.

“Doubtful,” she said, turning away and disappearing from the top.

That wasn’t a no. He jogged the rest of the way up the stairs, catching her at the sink of the studio apartment. She rinsed out the bowl and set it down, then headed to the bathroom.

Guess he’d have to entertain both of them.

He glanced around the room. A lot had changed since he’d last seen it, but to be fair, he’d only been up here once and that was to help Rose unload some heavy boxes.

The open floor plan had remained the same, but the décor had changed. Gone was all the mismatched furniture. In its place were comfortable-looking seating areas, a table for two, and freshly painted cabinets, and granite countertops in the kitchen, as well an antique dresser with a flat-screen television on top. Off to the side was a small room with a very large bed.

Now, that was definitely new.

“Where does Rose keep all the extra inventory?”

“Alexander bought the building across the street, the one he’d originally had up for sale.”

“Guess when you’re that loaded, buying a building from yourself makes sense,” he said to himself, moving to the long couch by the front windows. “I thought you were staying at Strawberry Grove.” He sat down, and waited for her to join him.

She emerged from the bathroom a minute later, still wearing the same t-shirt but she had put on a pair of loose boxer shorts. “It’s better if I live here, until—”