4

Rachael’s pov

Whenever Leah was mad at me, she always showed it by sitting in the backseat.

But when I was mad at her...

“Mommy,” she stretched her small hand out from the front passenger seat, trying to feed me a potato chip from the bag she’d opened before I’d even finished packing the groceries into the trunk. “Take some chips.”

I reluctantly took the chip, fully aware she hadn't washed her hands. My mind tried to focus on the road, but every time my eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, my gaze shifted right to the familiar black sports car tailing us.

Asshole. Gaslighting, manipulative, arrogant ass licking grinch.

And he’d infected my six-year-old daughter with those exact same traits, because tell me why on earth I just agreed to let my ex-husband come over for movie night.

“Sweetie,” I sighed, keeping my eyes on the road. “You know Mommy and Daddy aren’t together anymore. Why did you ask us to watch a movie as a family?”

“Because we are a family,” she answered in a muffled voice as she chewed. “You’re still my mommy, and he’s my daddy, and I’m your daughter, and I’m his daughter.”

I knew there had to be a logical comeback to that, but my brain was too exhausted to formulate one.

As I pulled into the driveway, I turned to her. “Go to a shower, and I’ll bring in the groceries, okay?”

“Okay! Mommy, please, for my birthday, could we get a doll wardrobe set for Lana?”

A genuine smile broke across my face- the biggest one I’d smiled all day. “Sure, baby.”

She popped the car door open and jumped down. As I stepped out, I watched her sprint straight across the gravel toward the man stepping out of his car, throwing herself into his arms.

“Daddy, I have to go shower now, okay?” she chirped. “Please don’t fight with Mommy and leave!”

Gabriel chuckled, his eyes rising to meet mine over her head. I shot him the dirtiest death glare I could muster before heading straight for the boot.

“I promise I’ll make your mom behave,” he called out softly.

I gasped, turning around to unleash a sharp retort, but I forced myself to wait until Leah had safely run inside the house.

“She’s six years old and doesn’t know any better, Gabe!” I hissed, slamming the trunk door open. “You could have easily declined her offer and driven the hell home.”

“You could have declined her yourself. I mean, she asked you,” he said smoothly, stepping into my space with that infuriating smirk as he effortlessly hoisted two of the heaviest grocery bags out of my hands. “But you didn’t want to look like the asshole in front of her. What makes you think I wanted to?”

I decided to ignore him. For Leah’s sake, and for my own fragile sanity, I resolved to pretend Gabriel was just a homeless man helping me bring in my groceries, who unfortunately was going to stick around longer than necessary before leaving.

Once inside, I set out the ingredients for dinner. But when I came back downstairs after hiding Leah’s birthday present in my closet, I froze on the bottom step.

Gabe was standing at my stove, wearing my floral apron over his Henley, expertly searing garlic and ground beef in a pan.

For some reason, I couldn't even bring myself to get annoyed. I mean, if he wanted to linger in my house so badly, he might as well make himself useful. I casually grabbed an apple from the counter. “If you need anything, please hesitate to call me.”

I retreated to my office to do some last-minute story brainstorming, but ended up just mindlessly scrolling through my phone.

An hour later, dinner was ready. I dimmed the living room lights, and together we built a massive blanket fort on the floor in front of the TV. The theme song of the show was already playing as I walked in, carrying a bowl of chocolate-drizzled popcorn.

The smell of his homemade lasagna filled the room. God, I had forgotten how insanely good his cooking was. Naturally, I was never going to admit that to his face. I settled onto the cushions, handing him and Leah the popcorn.

Leah sat squished right between us. Before she started watching, she looked back and forth between Gabe and me with a huge, satisfied grin.

“I missed this,” she whispered softly. “Just the three of us having movie night, as always. Don’t you, Mommy?”

I almost choked on my popcorn. This wasn't fair! Why was she putting ME on the spot?!

“Sweetheart, the episode is starting. Shhh.”

Gabe let out a laugh, and I shot him a furious glare.

For the next hour, the three of us sat inside the blanket fort watching Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse. It wasn't the first time we’d watched it together, but it had been a very long time. Yet sitting next to them both in the dim light felt so familiar, so terrifying, like our last movie night was just yesterday.

Gabriel was already loudly commenting on how Barbie could do so much better than Ken. I argued that Ken was sweet, but secretly believed Ken belonged with Raquelle. She was my absolute favorite character.

Leah just watched the two of us bicker, thoroughly entertained.

By nine o'clock, Leah’s head fell heavily onto my shoulder. She was fast asleep.

“You’ll wake her,” Gabe whispered the second I tried to shift her.

He set down his half-eaten bowl of popcorn- which I noticed he’d eaten far more of than his actual lasagna. The jerk used to claim he hated when I put chocolate drizzle on his popcorn. I sat completely still as he leaned over, his warm chest brushing my shoulder as he effortlessly lifted our daughter into his arms.

“Follow me,” I murmured, standing up.

We tiptoed up the stairs like cat burglars, knowing how impossible it would be to get her back to sleep if she woke up now. Once we reached her bedroom and he laid her gently under the covers, I noticed his dark eyes scanning the space.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I said under my breath, shutting her bedroom door behind us so we were standing alone in the quiet hallway. “Her room might be the size of your guest bathroom, but it’s cozy and she loves it.”

Gabe frowned, turning to face me. “That’s not why I was looking around. Why do you have to turn everything into a competition, Rach?”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“It certainly sounded that way.”

“Look,” I sighed, leaning back against the door. “It’s already late. Normally, I’d offer you the guest room so you could leave in the morning, but as you know, I don’t particularly like you.”

The side of his mouth twitched. I pressed myself flatter against the door, my eyes narrowing defensively as he took a slow, deliberate step into my space.

“Is it because you don’t like me,” he murmured, his voice dropping, “or because you can’t stand the fact that you still don’t trust yourself around me?”

My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, but I forced my chin up. “Get over yourself, Gabriel.”

“I’ll do you one better,” he whispered, leaning closer until his breath brushed my collarbone. “You could get under me.”

I shouldn't have offered him a beer during the movie. And I definitely shouldn't have had one myself. Now my head was spinning, and I couldn't figure out which one of us was acting more out of character, because why on earth wasn't I telling him to get the hell out of my house?

“Gabe...”

“Alright, fine. I’ll leave,” he muttered, though he didn't take a single step back. “But it sucks, you know? She’s going to wake up in the morning looking for me, and I won’t be here.”

“Well, you have your fiancée to get back to,” I spat.

His eyes darkened as they narrowed. “She’s not my fiancée, Rachael.”

“Okay,” I shrugged.

“You are infuriating, Rachael. Like... a whole lot of the time.”

“As if you’re any less annoying,” I shot back. Neither of us had moved an inch. He was towering over me, trapping me against the doorframe. “You’re easily the most infuriating man I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

Gabe smirked/ that devious, arrogant smirk that used to drive me insane. He reached out, his long fingers casually tucking a loose lock of red hair behind my ear. The brush of his warm knuckles against my skin sent a wave of absolute fire straight down my spine.

I bit my bottom lip, trying to hold his glare, but my defenses completely shattered when he leaned down and whispered into my ear:

“I’m the only man you’ve ever truly known, Rachael.”

“I know plenty of men!” I gasped, my face burning. “Like… like John- ”

Gabe let out a low scoff. “Your manager? Who’s also your best friend? Now that’s just sad.”

I wanted to burst into flames from pure rage, but a slow, wicked smirk replaced my frown. “And Michael.”

Before he could respond, I spun on my heel and started walking toward the stairs with a triumphant smile. I could hear his heavy, fast footsteps coming after me, but I didn't expect him to move so fast.

In a fraction of a second, he slammed his hand against the wall beside my head, ramming me back against it and cornering me completely. His towering frame blocked out the light, his chest rising and falling so hard I forgot how to breathe.

“Michael?” he growled, his voice dangerously low. “Your ex Michael?”

“I mean, if you think about it,” I replied smoothly, looking right into his eyes, “I married you right after him, so we didn't exactly break up properly, did we?”

I was lying. I had dumped Michael years ago like the cheating trash he was, and I hadn't thought about him for a single second since the day I fell madly in love with Gabriel.

Gabriel was staring down at me now, his eyes so dark they looked pitch black. “You’re lying.”

“Why do you care?” I snickered, making zero effort to push his massive chest off mine. My gaze dragged from his burning eyes down to his lips, catching the exact second his eyes dropped to my mouth.

“Why do you care so much about who Amanda is to me?” he growled, his breath hot against my cheek.

“Maybe I don’t,” I whispered, leaning in just an inch. “Just like I don’t expect you to care about who Michael is to- ”

My words were instantly swallowed as Gabriel kissed me.

His large hand shot out, wrapping around my throat as my fingers pushed through his hair, pulling him close.