Stepbrother Thief (43 page)

I put the food into my mouth, hardly tasting it, my mind spinning in a million directions as I wonder what I've just gotten myself into. I know it's worth it, to be with Gilleon again, but for whatever reason, I'd convinced myself that it was all over, that we'd solved our problems, that life would flourish and blossom into a garden of possibility. And maybe it still can … but I have to figure out how to help Gill.

Now.

Especially now.

“Well, that was nice,” I say as Gilleon moves over to my side of the SUV and opens the door, a slow smile spreading across his face. There's some bitterness there, some fear for the future, but there's also a tentative joy. I take Gill's hand and climb down, reaching my other up to brush across his cheek. “More than nice. A proper first date, really, Gum Wall and all. It might not be the Eiffel Tower, but it still counts as sightseeing, right?”

“
Oui,
” Gill says, pulling me into his arms. I can see a million questions resting behind his eyes, but I won't let him ask them. Nope. We covered what we needed to cover and now, the rest of the night is
our
night. “Regina …”

“No.” I put a finger against his lips and then trade it out for my mouth, kissing Gill long and hard and deep, his hands roaming over my back and down towards sweeter places. Without even realizing I'm doing it, I find myself taking a step back, my body bumping against the cooling metal of the SUV.

Our make out session only lasts for a brief instant, both of us going stone-still when a car idles slowly by. Gill's grip on my body tightens, but when we both glance over, it ends up just being his neighbor, glaring out her window at the two of us like she's just caught us vandalizing her house.

I wave and then turn my attention back to Gilleon. I can see the weight of his relief in one glance. How scary is that? A car driving slowly by is just as likely to be an actual threat as it is to be a neighbor.

“Can't even make out in our own front yard,” I tsk, trying to lighten the mood. Fortunately, it works and Gill smiles. “What is this world coming to?”

“Don't mind her.” Gilleon steps away and slides his right arm around my waist, leading me toward the front steps. When he leans over and brushes my hair away from my ear, hot breath searing against my flesh, I can feel goose bumps climbing up my arms. “She's just upset because I turned her down for a date once.” I gasp as he pulls away and grins, looking for an instant exactly like teenage Gill, all of that playful mischief burning in his eyes. My heart stutters and I bump my shoulder into his.

“Because you were waiting for me?”

Gill pauses thoughtfully and crinkles his brows.

“No, not really. Mostly because she tried to file a complaint with the city about the length of my lawn.” A laugh bursts from my throat, echoing into the night air, chasing away the demons, the worries, the fears. For a moment there, I feel like everything really will be okay.

“Asshole,” I mumble, but I'm only half serious.

After the necessary ugliness of our conversation, dinner got better, good even. I actually felt like I was on a date and even now, with thoughts of Karl and diamonds and guns sitting heavy in the back of my mind, I'm actually … happy. Maybe I shouldn't be, but I can't help it.

Gill unlocks the front door and gestures for me to go ahead of him, casually scanning the street before he closes it behind us.

“Hey,” I say, giving Aveline a little wave that she returns without even looking up from her computer screen. My heels click across the floor as I make my way to the kitchen, finding Solène and Cliff up to their elbows in flour and sugar. My mind clears just a little bit more and I suddenly see things as they could be, as they
will
be if Gill and I can get past this one last obstacle. It's a bit of a doozy, but I have hope.

“
Bonsoir, Maman,
” Solène glances over her shoulder and grins at us. “
Père.
”

“
Bonsoir,
” I say with a smile, dropping Gill's hand and moving over to kiss either of my daughter's cheeks. Her smile is just as infectious, just as friendly and gracious, as it was when she thought I was her sister. So far, it doesn't feel like anything between us has changed. Maybe, in my own way, I was being a mother all along? I suppose it doesn't matter. I meant what I told Cliff: being a parent is a privilege and I'm still going to do my best to earn it. “What are you two up to?”

“Making lemon bars,” Solène states proudly, pressing the shortbread dough into the bottom of the pan. “Extra tart for Papa and his discerning taste buds.” Cliff laughs and shakes his head, sliding Gill and me a glance that says so many things without words. There's hope there, frustration, fear, disappointment, love—just this crazy mixture of feeling that's going to take a while to sort out. But that's okay. I'm in no rush.

“How was dinner?” he asks, giving me a kiss to either cheek. Gill and Cliff pause for a moment staring at one another before Cliff pats him roughly on one shoulder, turning back to Solène and her dessert prep.

“Good,” I say, glancing at Gill, at those blue eyes that always have and seemingly always will take my breath away. “We worked out a lot of things.” I keep my description vague. These problems that Gill and I are having, these demons from our past, none of them are Cliff's or Solène's issues to deal with. Cliff deserves a peaceful retirement and my daughter deserves a happy childhood.

I take a deep breath and set my purse down on the table, shrugging out of my coat and handing it to Gilleon. He takes it gingerly, our eyes catching, my breath hitching in my chest.

A groan from Solène draws my attention back to her workstation and a pair of raised black brows.

“You two are simply
impossible,
” she snorts, emphasizing the last word in French. “Like two lovebirds long separated, finally freed from their cages.”

“And what movie did you two watch tonight?” I ask as Cliff grins and opens up a new bag of sugar.

“
Breakfast at Tiffany's,
” he says, watching Gill watch Solène. I follow my stepfather's gaze and see Gilleon caught at the edge of the kitchen, his coat still on his shoulders, mine draped over his arm. He's watching our daughter intently, sadness and longing mixing with just the smallest sprinkle of hope.

“Of course,” I say with a small smile, moving next to Gill and taking my jacket back. “Because that's the logical choice for a nine year old's movie night.” I wink at Cliff and he grins right back at me. Gill's still staring at the two of them, at this odd example of domestic bliss taking place in his kitchen. Better get used to it because Cliff's obsessed with passing his foodie knowledge down to Solène. “Hey,” I say, snapping him out of it, drawing his attention back to me. I feel a hot flush as those sensuous lips curve into a smile. “Give me your coat.” I nod my head in Solène's direction as she washes her hands in the sink, balancing on a small stool that puts her close to Cliff's height. “Go mix some sugar and lemon juice. Doesn't sound like much, but it's actually kind of fun.”

Gill watches me this time, his gaze taking in every inch of my face, before he finally slips off his coat and suit jacket, removing his gun holsters and laying them on the table.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, eyes half-hooded and still focused on me.

I reach over and grab his arm, the hard bulge of his muscle beneath my fingers forcing me to swallow twice to regain my composure before I can let go. Without another word, I disappear down the hallway and deposit our coats on the rack, catching Aveline's eyes from her place at the dining room table. She gives me a wicked half-grin that I ignore as I sneak back and watch from a distance, watch as the love of my life cautiously approaches our daughter and gets swept into the family like he was always there. She's gracious like that, Solène is.

A smile curves my lips as I watch Gill try to measure out a cup of sugar. Those big hands, those tattoos, all of that strength … it's beautiful to watch him work in a different light.

Fucking Karl.

We'll figure this shit out, me and him, because we're a family—albeit one that took a brief hiatus. But that doesn't matter now, never really did matter. I've loved Gilleon for ten years without a hiccup, despite my best efforts not to, so if I'm going to welcome him back, I'm going to do it with open arms.

Family.

We're a family now and I'll do
anything
for family.

Dear God.

I'm blushing like a teenager on prom night, my hands clutching my bare upper arms, my black lace nightgown shifting in the gentle rush of air from the heating vent above my head. Quickies are one thing … even making love after a serious emotional discussion is easier than this, this casual
normalcy.

Fuck.

Gill's sitting on the edge of my bed—shirtless, mind you—and smiling. Not grinning or smirking, just smiling. Despite our conversation, despite the ugliness in our past, this man, this guy who's six foot four and God only knows how many pounds of muscle, he stood next to his daughter and he baked and he spilled powdered sugar on the floor and he sat next to her on the couch while she showed him all of her designs and drawings. My lips twitch.
And some of mine.
Solène even came up with a plan for our 'studio' downstairs—complete with artful renditions of us pinning gowns together on a dress form.

It's a dream I don't mind sharing with her. In this house. With this man.

I've made my decision and even though Cliff keeps giving me a slight stink-eye, I'm sticking to it. This is it, the thing I've been waiting for forever.

I swallow hard as Gilleon glances over at me, his dark hair shining under the white moonlight from outside our window.

“Are you sure you want me in here?” he asks, his voice light and playful, the shadows on his face just a product of the light, not even a trace of that inner darkness showing right now. “Because if you want to keep sleeping in separate beds …”

“Don't tease or you might just get your wish,” I tell him, knowing that my next conversations with Anika, Leilani, and the whole gaggle of girlfriends I left behind in France are going to be regarding … this. I'm already so not looking forward to any of them. I quirk an eyebrow. “You should be nicer to me. Do you know how much shit my girlfriends are going to put me through when I tell them we're getting back together? Then it won't be Karl you'll have to worry about coming after your ass, but Katriane and her five inch stiletto heels, sharp as blades.”

Gill grins at me and stands up, his flannel pj pants slung low on his hips, teasing me with rock hard abs and the bright shining eyes of the panther tattoo on his right pec. He even looks badass with the fading remnant of that gunshot wound to his other shoulder. Tough as nails Gilleon Marchal.
Holy shit, he's sleeping in my bedroom tonight. Tomorrow night. All of our future nights.

I reach up and run my fingers through my hair.

This is going to work. It's going to work and it's going to be beautiful.

The self-talk calms me down enough that I take a few steps forward, bare feet padding across the hardwood floors.

“Can I ask you a question?” Gill says, tilting his head to the side and regarding me as I pause, a stray shaft of silver moonlight falling across my breasts, drawing his gaze down before it slides back up.

“You can ask, but it doesn't mean I have to answer it,” I say, mimicking him as I cross my arms over my chest and lean back. I smell his scent, that spicy bergamot oil breeze that clings to his warm skin like cologne. I want to lick it off. But I pretend I don't give a crap.

“Whatever happened to the ring I gave you?” Gill swallows and his jaw clenches tight with old anger, not at me but at Karl. Or Karl's son. Maybe even his own mother.

I glance up and over Gill's shoulder, out the window and down to the dark chasm where the lake should be. The way the moonlight's falling tonight, I can't even see it. Doesn't mean it's not there though.

“Why?” I ask, glancing at Gill's face again. “Because if you ask me to marry you right now, it's a no.” He raises his dark brows at me and I smile. “But you can certainly date me and consider asking again in, oh, I don't know, two years or so?”