The Look of Love (5 page)

As she recalled the memories of the car, she immediately remembered what she and Gunnar used to do in it. Although back in high school his size hadn’t matched his appearance now, Gunnar had still carried a tall and slightly muscular frame.

After Gunnar had worked all day at Press ’N Curl, Eboni would pick him up from the salon, go park on a dead-end road, and they’d kiss until her lips went numb.

Eboni distinctly remembered how well he’d used his hands, those large, skilled hands that had massaged her into fits of ecstasy more than she cared to admit. Thinking about it now tightened her nipples. She turned the heat down in the car when her flesh became overheated.

“Can we talk about the elephant in the car?” Gunnar shifted his body to direct his full attention to her.

His sudden inquiry almost had her driving through a red light. Eboni slammed on her brake and took a deep breath before turning to Gunnar. Could he read her thoughts and know that she’d been thinking about them, about their hot, sordid past?

“The business,” he said before she could ask him how he could walk away from their solid relationship. “I got the impression at the hospital that you weren’t completely happy to have me run the salon.”

The light changed to green. Eboni slammed her foot down on the accelerator, snapping both of their heads back in the sudden motion.

“You’re not running the salon. I am. You’re doing what Queen Elizabeth normally does.” She gritted her teeth and tried to maintain her composure.

“Which is?”

“She oversees the supplies. She hires. She fires. She promotes the place so that we can get more clients. She’s an owner.” She glared at him. “I’m the manager. I’m there. I know everything about the salon. You would just be a distraction.”

Gunnar paused before answering. “Are we still talking about the salon?”

Eboni pulled into the driveway of Elizabeth’s home. “What’s past is past, right? Can’t change it. You’ve moved on just like I have.” She put her car in park and turned it off. “You have moved on, haven’t you?”

When Gunnar didn’t answer, she turned to him. She found an expression she hadn’t expected to see in the big man. Remorse. Had he found someone else?

No. Elizabeth would have said something if that had happened.

Gunnar cast his gaze downward. “I work. That’s all I do.” He exited the car and grabbed his bag.

A strange wave of relief consumed her as she got out of her car. As Eboni headed up the steps of Elizabeth’s two-story brown-and-white gingerbread-like house, she didn’t expect Gunnar to follow her. She thought he would have taken Queen’s car in the garage and gone off to whatever hotel room he chose to occupy.

“What are you doing?” she asked at the front door before unlocking it.

“Going into my mother’s home. Why? What are you doing?”

“Packing a bag for her and getting some sleep.” She held the front doorknob behind her back as she faced him. “You aren’t staying here, right?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and that expression intensified his hypnotic blue eyes. “Of course I am. Why would
you
want to stay here? Don’t you have a place of your own?”

Eboni cocked her head. “Your mother asked me to stay here.”

“Before she knew I would be coming home. Now that I’m here, you don’t have to stay.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m a woman of my word.” Eboni turned her back on Gunnar to unlock the door. “You might be more comfortable in a hotel.” She put her back to the door again like a guard protecting Queen’s palace.

“I would be more comfortable in my childhood home.” Gunnar reached behind her and grabbed the knob. The position put him right against Eboni’s body.

She felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed heavily. His stare bored down on her until she felt like she would crumble.

“I’ll open the door for you.”

The rumble that emanated from his chest vibrated her body. The tremor hardened her nipples even more. She took in a deep breath and caught his masculine scent, a woodsy aroma with an undertone of sandalwood.

Eboni put her hand to his chest in an effort to push him back. Instead, she closed her eyes and flashed back to an image of the last time they’d made love. So vivid the recollection, she could feel his muscled thighs pressing against her legs. She remembered how good he’d felt inside her, moving in and out of her like they existed as one person, one entity. Her fingers itched to move over to his nipple to circle it, tease it, get him to moan again.

Without warning, the support of the door behind her vanished. She opened her eyes and stumbled backward, nearly hitting the floor until Gunnar wrapped his arm around her waist to save her.

“Sorry.” He stared into her eyes. “Should have told you I was opening the door.” Gunnar helped right her before backing away.

Eboni ran her hand over her hair. “You have a tendency of doing that, don’t you? I get a little comfortable and then you pull the rug from under me.”

She should be angry for letting Gunnar get physically close to her. She’d forgotten that Queen Elizabeth raised gentlemen. Now that she thought about it, since Gunnar had gotten back, he’d opened all doors for her, even her car door. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he would have gotten this door too. She had to appreciate a man with manners.

“Now you’re definitely talking about the past. Let’s talk about this.” Gunnar tried approaching her.

Eboni moved away from him. He’d already gotten too close to her.

She’d been inside Elizabeth’s house more than her own home. Being in it now with Gunnar, the mood felt different. The delicate touches of the lace doilies on the arms of the sofa and chairs seemed in conflict with the over six-foot man wearing a black sweatshirt, jeans, and motorcycle boots. The powder-pink walls contrasted with the muscular being that took up most of the landscape in the dwelling.

“We talked about our plans. I wanted you to come with me to Vegas when I trained. You didn’t want to go.”

Gunnar summing up their relationship in three sentences angered her. So much more had happened than her being offered to go with him and then turning him down.

“Wow. So that’s all that happened between us?” She waved her hand in between their bodies. “What were my dreams? You talked about your career. What was my goal?”

Gunnar remained quiet.

“Was I taking care of anyone here at the time you wanted to go?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“You never told me you were caring for anyone. Were you?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“When I was going to tell you, you were too consumed talking about your career. When I was going to tell you, you dropped the bomb on me.”

“Who was it?”

Eboni shook her head. “Oh no. We are not in that place anymore.” She huffed. “You never asked me to marry you. You expected me to uproot my whole life to be with you without a promise of marriage.”

She watched Gunnar’s jaw flex like he gritted his teeth.

“I’m going up to my room.” Gunnar put his hand on the banister and started to go up to one of the four bedrooms.

The fact that he didn’t address the most important aspect of her argument, the marriage that had never happened, drained her. At least she’d let her feelings be known.

“Your bedroom is not there anymore.” Eboni stood behind him. “Your mother changed your room to a sewing room.” She knew that firsthand since she’d helped cart up the heavy sewing machine. “Your brothers’ rooms are now her gym and shoe room.”

“You’re kidding.”

Instead of waiting for her to confirm, he took the stairs by twos. From the bottom step, she heard Gunnar cursing. She shouldn’t laugh, but she couldn’t help it. She covered her mouth with her hand when she heard his heavy-booted footfalls stomping back down the stairs.

“It has been a long time since you’ve been home.” Eboni shook her head.

“The only room she didn’t touch was her bedroom.” He ran his hand over his head.

“And that’s where I’m sleeping.” From the way he stared at her, she almost wanted to offer him a spot in Queen’s queen-size bed next to her. “Are you sure you don’t want to just go to a hotel?”

He cocked his head. “She didn’t touch the apartment over the garage, did she?”

When Eboni didn’t respond, he must have gotten his answer.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He headed toward the kitchen. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

“Actually, I do need you.” Eboni cleared her throat.

He raised his eyebrows at her proclamation.

Now that she had his attention, she had to ask to make a deal with the man who’d haunted her dreams for years.

Gunnar watched Eboni take a deep breath before pacing in front of him. Didn’t she know that after their encounter on the porch he needed to put some space between them to keep from getting distracted? He held his bag in front of his body in case a lower part of his anatomy decided to pop up to make a greeting.

Talking to family about his mom would help keep his mind off Eboni and her incredible curves. He had to call his brothers once he heard what Eboni had to say.

“Okay.” She looked down to the floor before bringing her attention back to him. “Do you remember the Oceanfront Community Center?”

Gunnar froze. He clenched his teeth hard enough to bring on a piercing headache. He widened his stance to ground himself.

From Eboni’s confused expression, her memories of the center vastly differed from his.

“You know what? I get it. I hurt you so you want to hurt me.” He secured the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

“What are you talking about?” She took cautious steps toward him.

“Do I remember Oceanfront Community Center? You mean the place where I was arrested for fighting that guy for talking about me and family? Yeah, I remember it. Thanks for the great trip down memory lane.” He turned to the back door.

“Wait! I wasn’t referring to that.”

Gunnar didn’t wait for her to continue. He found the remote on the counter that went to the garage door. Thankfully, his mother hadn’t changed everything about the house. He pressed the button and heard the familiar whirring outside of the door raising.

He started out the back door, stopped, and turned back to Eboni. “Nice talking to you. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the garage to shower.”

Gunnar hadn’t forgotten his manners and remembered the third rule of excusing yourself whenever leaving a room. Even though Eboni had brought up a painful experience, it didn’t mean he had to be rude.

As Gunnar stomped toward the two-story detached garage, he recalled the one time he’d gotten arrested. Disrespectful words said about his mother from the biggest bully in his neighborhood had triggered Gunnar’s already short fuse. One minute he’d been hanging out with his friends at a special event, the next minute he’d had the boy on the ground and had been on the winning end of the fight.

The police had arrested him at seventeen years old for assault. Thanks to his mother’s influence and smart attorneys, he’d received community service and six months of probation.

That taste of fighting and winning had propelled him to go into his sport. In a way, he should thank that bully and the center for his career. He couldn’t figure out why Eboni would bring up the place now.

Gunnar stood outside of the opened garage door with his mouth agape. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He stared at the hot-pink Mini Cooper that had the word
Queen
on the license plate. What the hell had happened to his mother’s big Cadillac? He didn’t mind driving a pink Cadillac. He couldn’t squeeze himself into another tin can on wheels. After calling his brothers, he would have to get a rental car.

Gunnar punched the controller on the wall next to garage door. The metal door creaked as it lowered to the ground with the gentle hum of the motor buzzing behind it.

He climbed the stairs to the apartment he’d used when his brothers had gotten on his nerves. His mother had used it for guests. Gunnar never thought he would be a guest in his family home.

A cold chill met him as soon as he opened the door. He wondered if his mother used the place as a meat locker. He exhaled and saw a cloud of his breath in the air. He went to the thermostat and turned the heat on, hoping it would warm up the place in short order.

Sheets covered the furniture. As he removed each sheet, a cloud of dust swirled in the air. He piled the sheets on the floor by the door. He would throw them in the washer after completing his tasks.

Gunnar didn’t remember the small kitchen having all stainless-steel appliances. Apparently, his mother had upgraded this tiny apartment. Dark hardwood flooring squeaked under his feet. She’d had each wall painted with all pastel and light colors.

Before making his bed, he called Gideon first. As the middle child, Gid had become the mediator whenever a fight had occurred.

“Calling me so early on a Monday morning.” Gideon laughed. “Shouldn’t you be on top of some supermodel or something right now after your big win?”

“You would think so.” Gunnar opened a closet door and found a stack of clean sheets and blankets.

“Don’t tell Mom I said that.” Gideon laughed.

Gunnar knew his younger brother realized his crass statement about women wouldn’t go over well with their mother. At least Gideon recognized that and chalked up the suggestion as a joke.

“Our little secret.” Gunnar smiled. As he thought about what he needed to tell his younger brother, he sobered. “Look, need to tell you something. It’s about Mom.” He threw the set of sheets on the bare mattress and then sat.

“She’s in the hospital.” The levity left his brother’s tone.

Gunnar scratched his head. “How did you know? Is it on that gossip site already?”

His brother laughed. “Mom called me.”

Gunnar shook his head. “After she asked me to call you and Thane. I should have known she would have done it herself. When has Mom ever needed anyone to do anything for her?”

“She said she’s going to be fine,” Gideon said finally.

“They’re going to install a stent tomorrow morning. Until she gets better, we’re going to have to run her businesses.”