“Girlfriends.”
“Partners after we finished. That’s not what we were about.”
I took another bite, studiously avoiding his gaze while he did the same. Since I introduced the subject it was only fair I was the one to ask, “Are you feeling as awkward as I am?”
“More so.”
“Should we change the subject?”
“Please.”
I found another topic of discussion—school work. We chatted about the different classes, saying nothing of importance as we found our way back to comfort again.
Then it was my turn to feel odd and a little raw. Karma perhaps?
“I liked your dress, Emma. Where’d you get it?”
I swallowed my ice cream, taking the precious few moments to decide what I should say. It was a perfectly innocent question, after all. Gabriel’s tuxedo had obviously been tailored to fit his frame and wasn’t something found on a rack, but it just didn’t seem the same at all.
“I had it made.”
“Really? Who did it?”
Although I trusted Gabriel more than I did a month ago, I still had to quickly gauge his expression and see if it held more than curiosity. “My mom knows someone whose daughter sews. She did it.”
The somebody being Carla, a very nice woman who worked on the same cleaning crew as my mother. Her daughter was only a year older than me, but she’d been sewing since she was ten. Nita loved design and wanted to one day work in a fashion house.
We were similarly ambitious in that way.
I wondered if my answer would have Gabriel withdrawing his praise for the dress since it didn’t come from an exclusive designer or boutique. I wanted to know, in fact counted on it changing his opinion.
Gabriel smiled. “She does wonderful work, Emma. No one else had a dress like yours. It had Grecian flair, clean, simple, and elegant. You weren’t a walking sequin like everyone else.”
Shocked at his unexpected response, I sought to hide my feelings in a tease. “You have quite the opinion on fashion. I never pegged you to be a fashionista.”
“I’m a man of many surprises. It makes life interesting that way.” Gabriel took another bite of ice cream after saying, “I hope you continue to have her design other dresses for you.”
He was completely serious and not just being polite.
Gabriel continued eating his ice cream, oblivious to the reshuffling of walls happening in my head space. I was typically silent around him because I watched everything I said, always considering the possible reaction to my words because of how different our worlds were.
He didn’t see that because he wasn’t just like them. He was different.
“What’s on your mind, Emma? You’re frowning again.”
I shook my head, bewildered and helpless to make sense of it all. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”
Gabriel cast me a smoldering glance. “You’re just figuring that out?”
“I guess I am.”
He took my bowl away from me. “Hey! I wasn’t done with that.”
“I’ve got something better. Promise.” Gabriel rinsed our bowls and utensils, putting them neatly in the dishwasher.
I thought to prod and point out how surprised I was that he even knew what a dishwasher was, much less how to load it. Before I would’ve. Now…
Now was different.
Gabriel tossed me a wry grin and a wink as he made his way to the fridge. He pulled out a large silver bowl rounded with large plump strawberries. Next came a slightly smaller bowl of cream.
Fresh cream.
“I hate to be a bother, baby, but can you hold this please?”
Taking the delightful sweet from him, I couldn’t resist dipping my finger in and sucking it into my mouth. It was heaven. Once I opened my eyes again, I caught Gabriel staring at my lips.
“Sadist. Definitely a sadist.” He then placed the strawberries back on the counter, as well as the cream, and asked me to wait while he went to grab a bottle to go along with dessert.
It was only a few minutes before Gabriel came back with a bucket filled with ice and a champagne bottle.
“Do I have to remind you you’re not old enough to drink?”
Gabriel kissed me soundly before answering, “Come on, Emma. Live a little. It’s quite fun sometimes.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Are you suggesting I’m boring, Gordon?”
“Not at all! Only except, you know, when you’re boring.”
I gasped in mock-outrage. “That’s it! No more kisses for you, Gabriel.”
“None?”
“Nope.”
“Not even a little?”
“Not even a little.”
His full, kissable lip jutted in a pout before curving into a naughty grin. “If you won’t kiss me then maybe I can just kiss you. How about here?”