Chapter 24

24

"It was so sweet." Leah smiled over her beer bottle at Gabriel. The candle she'd plucked from her living room flickered merrily between them on her kitchen table, her dogs curled at their feet. "Chuck sat at the yard door for at least ten minutes, hoping you'd show."

Gabriel nodded, gaze on his plate as he pushed spaghetti around. He'd been like that since he'd arrived. Not cold but moody, pensive.

"Nothing could tempt him," she went on. "I mean, nothing. I tried a ball, a toy, a chew."

"Hmm."

Leah tucked her tongue firmly in her cheek. "And then I sprayed whipped cream all over my body. Offered myself to Mitch, who proposed we make it a threesome."

"Sounds good."

Leah set her beer down. "Okay. What's wrong?"

She nudged him under the table with her foot, startling him into looking up. Candlelight moved over his troubled expression before he blanked it.

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't do that. I hate that."

A sigh moved his shoulders and he set his fork down. He didn't pretend not to know what she meant. "Apologies. I'm not great company this evening."

"You're not great company any evening. I'm really only in it for the sex."

A brief smile curled one corner of his mouth. He finally picked up the wine she'd bought specifically for him, lifted it to her. "You're welcome."

She laughed. Nudged him again with her socked foot. "C'mon, spill. You've been moody since you came back from New Orleans." With the board. Dread uncurled within her and she sat up straight. "They're not...they're not taking you out of the running for CEO?"

"No." But even as her shoulders dropped in relief, his brow furrowed. "No."

"But...?" she prompted.

"It's nothing."

Leah set her chin on her hand, elbows on the table. And stared.

He swirled his wine. "It was something my uncle said."

"Oh." She shoved away the instant distaste. "What?"

"It's petty."

She scratched Rosie's head absently as the sprocker leaned against her chair. "What did he say?"

"It's fine. I overreacted."

"I've always said that about you, you're such a drama queen."

He rolled his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. "He said...some things about my time here. How he didn't want it to change me, not if I want to be a suitable CEO."

"Real nice." Leah soothed her dog, watching Gabriel as he concentrated on his plate. Something clicked. "Was it about me?"

He stayed silent.

Her stomach pitched in response. "He doesn't like me. He made that clear."

His gaze snapped up.

"The gala," she elaborated. Shrugged. "He made some comments."

The air thickened palpably. "What comments?" he demanded.

"Stupid stuff. Along the lines of how lucky I am that you and the Goodnight name came along to help and how I clearly saw that opportunity. Which is what he said today," she guessed, gauging his face. "In front of the board? Damn it. I'm sorry."

"Why should you apologize?"

"Because I've caused an issue. I know what this company means to you. I don't want to be an obstacle."

"You won't be."

She reached out, set a hand on his. Her fingernails were sherbet pink and contrasted with his more masculine hand. "I promise I won't ever be."

"I know." He turned his hand over so their fingers linked. "You were telling me about Chuck?"

"He missed you." Leah took a beat, unsure she should let the subject drop. "Gabriel..."

"He'll get used to it." Gabriel set down his wineglass to pick up his fork again. "Maybe I should stop visiting him. Make the transition easier."

"No, don't do that." They had, after all, only two weeks left with him.

Two weeks. How was it already only two weeks?

Gabriel took a bite of pasta, swallowed. "He'll only get more attached."

Too late for that , she thought. For both of them. "You're sure you wouldn't want to take him? He loves you."

"No."

"You could use a friend when you go back. And he could use a family."

"Leah, I said no."

The words were sharp and cut the strings holding her smile in place.

For a lingering moment, the only sounds were Delilah's soft snores.

"He loves you," she repeated, a hollow ache setting up camp. "It'll break his heart when you go."

"He'll find someone else to love."

"He's getting older. He may only have two years or so left."

"Exactly," he bit out, putting down his fork and rising. He carried his plate over to the sink, bracing his now-free hands on the counter. His back was rigid. "I am not setting Melly up to lose someone else. We've been through enough."

She stared at that unbending back. "You're serious?"

"We've lost enough," he repeated stubbornly, turning to her. His expression matched his voice. "Two years is nothing for a witch. A blip of time. She'll have him, love him, only to watch him die. Better not to have him at all." He shook his head irritably, leafing a hand through his hair. "You don't understand, you're not of my world."

She sat back, feeling like she'd taken a punch to the gut. Instead of feeling the hurt, she chose annoyance.

"Maybe I don't," she retorted. "I don't understand why you'd deprive a dog who loves you of a family for the final years of his life." Or himself of anyone willing to care for him, she admitted quietly to herself. Dog—or person.

A muscle ticked away in his jaw, and he linked his hands behind his back the way she'd noticed he did whenever he was uncomfortable.

Might as well go for broke. Get it all out.

"And maybe it's being human," she continued, pressing her hands onto her thighs as nerves tickled in her belly, "but I don't see why you're letting your uncle do this to you."

He frowned. "What?"

"Everything. The whole weird will." She blew out a breath. "Say that three times fast."

Her joke fell flat. "He didn't force me," Gabriel countered, each word bristling. "He wants me to prove myself, gain respect from the board and show how I can lead them into the future."

"And you didn't earn that already by working your way up through the company?" she shot back. She'd loved how that one example demonstrated his willingness to try, his curious mind. It deserved appreciation. And so, she pushed. "Tell me, Gabriel, what exactly do you like about the idea of being CEO? Why do you want it so much? Is it because you actually want it or because..." She stopped before she went too far.

He only lifted his chin. "This is what I was born for. It's what I'm good at."

She could quit but that just wasn't her. "Running things from a distance? Sitting behind a desk? That isn't you, Gabriel. You told me about going into each department and seeing what made it tick. How you like improving everything, thinking of new ways to do things at ground level. That's what you're good at."

"I could do that as CEO," he said stubbornly. "My uncle still dips a hand in every so often."

"But he focuses on the bigger picture, not the minutiae. The details are where you shine." She paused. "And from the sounds of things, your uncle might like being in charge. Maybe a little too much."

She swore she felt the abrupt chill in his gaze, sliding ice into her skin.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Careful , she warned herself. "I'm just...look, if he wants you to succeed so much, why talk down to you today? Why make you do this at all?" She wet her lips. "Maybe he's setting you up to fail—because he doesn't want to give up being CEO."

"Stop it." Gabriel came forward so abruptly, it startled Rosie from her position next to Leah. His hands clenched, a storm in his eyes. That storm flared out, little green sparks flickering and flashing around him. "You don't know what you're saying. August has always wanted the best for me, for Melly. He's been there my entire life, especially when my parents died. He sat with me in silence for two weeks until I was ready to talk. He helped me sort out details when I could barely breathe. He's family."

Leah's heart softened. She lifted her hands in pacification. "Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Another man, another warlock might have pounced on the vulnerability. Pointed out again that the reason for that was because she was outside his world. Maybe even use what she'd told him that evening on the balcony to cut into her.

Gabriel merely stared at her, that muscle in his jaw beating away.

The divide between them yawned. She felt every inch of it viciously. His world, she thought with a pang. It would always be his world and she would always be on the outside.

Good thing she wasn't attached like Chuck.

"He's always accepted me," Gabriel said into the quiet. Her gaze flew up, found his. The green was fierce. "My entire life, he's always been there, supporting me."

Unlike his parents.

Leah swallowed down regret. Maybe she'd been wrong. Just because she didn't like his uncle didn't mean he was a bad guy. Taking a chance, she rose and went to Gabriel, tilting her head back to maintain eye contact. She slid her hand down his arm to his hand. His signet ring brushed her fingers as she linked them.

"I guess I owe him for that." She squeezed, letting it go. She'd said her piece and it was up to him what to do with it. "Wanna make up and make out?"

Grave, he studied her. Then he cracked, lips tilting to a smile.

And everything was alright in her world.

Peggy came back five hours later to find them arguing on the couch.

"It's irresponsible," Gabriel said, waving a hand at the television where Simon, Duke of Hastings, was striding around and looking damn fine doing so. He'd offered to watch something she wanted after dinner. He probably regretted it now. "Just because his father was harsh does not mean he should be so petty."

"He was hurt," Leah argued hotly. "Admittedly, it's not the best idea, especially now he has Daphne, but people can't be ruled by logic alone."

"Of course, they can."

"Well, of course you'd think so." Leah jabbed his chest from where she was curled up next to him. "But the rest of us aren't robots. We feel, we act."

"His father isn't even around anymore to see him take his ridiculous revenge." Gabriel shot her a superior look. "Tell me how it's harming anyone other than himself."

Peggy leaned on the back of the couch. "He's got you there."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Leah directed at her and Peggy laughed, said good-night and drifted upstairs. When she'd gone, Leah turned back to Gabriel. "It's not," she said, returning to her argument. "But the point is emotion makes you a little wild. Human."

"Impractical," Gabriel corrected. "Life should be looked at with sensible eyes."

How he could be so obtuse was both irritating and laughable. Leah raked her hands down her face and peeked at him through them. "You're going to love Anthony's season."

"The rogue who's infatuated with the opera singer?"

Leah sighed, swinging her legs into Gabriel's lap. His hand went there instantly, cupping her thigh. "Trust me," Leah said with a small shake of her head, pretending to be annoyed when what she really felt was just...happy. "You'll love him."

They both turned back to the TV, while underneath, Ralph's unblinking eyes watched them as if they were far more entertaining than any show.

The night had been a kind of dream, the sort nobody wanted to wake up from.

The day swiftly devolved into a nightmare.

Leah stared at Sonny across his cluttered desk, dropping into the padded chair opposite. The plant she'd bought him with the inscription, Dog dad, plant papa , drooped in its corner. She knew how it felt.

She'd known. As soon as he'd said he wanted to talk to her, she'd known.

"You have an offer," she repeated dully. Her head throbbed.

Sonny nodded, hands restlessly organizing his papers into a pile. He avoided her gaze. "Someone from the charity gala. They came by for a visit, really took to the place."

"That's good, but..." She gripped her thighs so she wouldn't leap up. "You can't seriously be thinking of accepting."

His shoulders slumped and he bent to his chair, his weight making the old furniture squeak. "You know it's been tight. And I'm tired."

"But the gala raised all that money," she began.

"It's a good offer," he interrupted. Lines streaked around his eyes, making him look every one of his years. He fiddled with a pen, turning it over and over. "And they haven't ruled out me staying on in some capacity. If I want."

"But it's your place." Mine.

"I know." And the look he shot her told her he did. He rubbed tiredly at his forehead. "Part of me thinks Mabel would come down from heaven itself to scold me for even thinking of giving it up."

The mention of his wife almost made her smile. "She loved this place."

"So do I." He pressed his lips together. "But the love has to be balanced with the practical. And the truth is, running everything is becoming too much for me. What with the recent vandalism, the police. And the expense—"

"So, I'll help out more," Leah said with a tinge of desperation. Her hands curled into her jeans, picking at the rip over her knee. "I'll put in more hours."

"And what about your bar?"

"I'll manage. There's twenty-four hours in a day, right?" She'd always believed that, never truly felt right sitting around doing nothing. Okay, she didn't have much free time, but she could make it work.

"Leah, I don't want to hurt you." He grimaced, squeezed the pen. "I just...thought you should know. I'm considering."

Leah sat back, struggling to breathe past the fear or panic or whatever it was blocking her throat. She gazed at Sonny, the familiar face that had been there for her since she'd been fifteen. Except now she really looked.

The line that carved through his brow had become permanent this past year. Worry had made him pale, almost haggard. He was at retirement age. He should be enjoying life.

I can't lose this place , she wanted to cry like a child.

But she didn't. Instead, she fixed a smile to her face. It was like a poorly-made table—rough, wobbly—but it held.

"Don't worry about me." She stood, leaning to cover his hand where it lay on the desk. "Us. We'll be fine, no matter what you decide. Just do what's best for you."

She made it to Chuck's kennel before she broke. Tears slid down her cheeks as she sank to sit by the enclosure. She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her head, warmed by the Labrador as he nosed as best he could against her.

"Leah?" Gabriel's voice was sharp. He was beside her the next moment. He dropped, ignoring Chuck when the dog started a series of happy barks. "What's wrong? Are you sick? Hurt?"

He had her standing the next minute, patting her down. An overly warm sensation bloomed beneath her skin.

Recognizing it, she batted at his hands. "Don't use magic," she said thickly, sniffling. "You'll hurt yourself."

He trapped her hands in his. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

He gave her a bland stare, then cut a look at Chuck. "Enough."

The Labrador relented after one more woof, sitting and sweeping his thick tail across the ground.

Gabriel's hands warmed hers. "Talk to me."

"It's nothing. Okay, it's not nothing," she expanded after an impatient huff from him. "It should be nothing. It's not health, it's not death." She sank her teeth into her lip, tried to stop another tear from falling. "It's Sonny."

Gabriel studied her. When he let go, it was to gently wipe away the next tear. "He's selling."

"He got an offer." Leah impatiently scrubbed at her eyes. "God. I hate crying. It's pointless." She breathed out, blinked to quell the next wave.

"Is he going to take it?"

"I don't know. Maybe. And the idea of this place not being his anymore, not being mine in the same way..." She fisted a hand at her heart. "And how selfish is that? He's getting old, is old. I never see him play with the dogs or cats anymore. He's stressed, overworked, underpaid, and I'm sad that he's found a solution?" She snorted. "I'm a terrible person. A terrible, selfish, stupid—"

Gabriel kissed her. Soft, sweet.

Her hands were pressed against his chest, his on her upper arms when he stopped. "You're not a terrible person."

"You're biased," she murmured.

"Goodnights are nothing if not truthful." He'd adopted that stuffy tone. She had no idea why it struck her as adorable. Maybe because he was trying to hide the fact that he cared. After all, this, them, was one level, one note and then the song would end. It made her feel like crying all the more.

"If I had the money," she said, "if I hadn't invested in my property, the bar..."

Wanting to block it out, she pressed her face into his chest. When he patted her head uncomfortably, she couldn't stop the faint smile. It didn't last long, couldn't when her emotions were fighting for supremacy. They churned and crashed and bruised her insides. To be held like this, to be in his arms where she felt safe, like she could manage anything as long as he was beside her. Her hidden heart screamed into the abyss, desperate to keep it. But she couldn't and she knew that. She had to stand alone.

"It will be fine." Gabriel's voice was uncompromising, as firm as his hand was gentle. "You will be fine. Turners are resilient."

The truth in his words and her own steadied her just enough. His chest muffled her response. "Damn straight."

"That's better." Still with his hand against her head, he continued, "Tonight."

She concentrated on breathing, on repairing her cracks. "What's tonight?"

"Wait and see."