But God.
The fact Joey sat there, practically brimming with rage until he took over was the worst part. No one wanted their parents to think they were a failure at everything they tried, but to have someone like Joey, whose family and parents were so wonderful, watching it?
At least they’d already been gone when she threw out her parting shot.
I took a gulp of wine and settled against the edge of the hot tub. If only I could drown my sorrows in hot, steamy bubbles and this delicious Cabernet, it was possible everything could have been perfect.
It was the only place I could think of to escape after Joey had been so sweet to me. After he’d stood up for me. No one ever did that. Not even Garrett, not really. He might have been able to calm Mom down and get her off my case but he hadn’t always been around, while I’d stayed close.
And even then he didn’t stand up for me, he simply dissipated the tension.
Did I have some daddy issues? Pretty sure any therapist would say yes. Unequivocally. Tended to happen when a girl lost her dad before she turned five and then our mother spent our entire childhood making sure Garrett knew how important he was, how strong, how brave, how fast, how absolutely good he was at everything he set his mind to. I didn’t blame her. Hockey demanded a lot of time. Garrett was ten when our dad died and he’d grown up overnight.
Me? I was always the little girl who still wished her dad could tuck her in at night, throw her high in the air. I had very few memories of him, but he sang. All the time. He made up songs about dinners and walks and folding clothes and what it was like to fly. My dad could take the mundane and turn it into an adventure with a melody.
Tears rose in my eyes and I splashed my face with hot water. I didn’t need to lose it now.
And yet? Why the hell not? It wasn’t even dinnertime yet and today had been the longest day in existence. Worse, there were no signs it would get better. I had a husband who I barely knew, who was probably still in love with his ex-wife, for fuck’s sake. How in the hell I’d let him convince me to give this a shot was anyone’s guess. More standard Gabby leaping before looking behavior probably.
No. I shook my head and closed my eyes, resting my head against the ledge. I refused to believe it. I’d always wanted what my mom had with my dad. A man in my life who inspired that kind of love and devotion years after they were gone. I wouldn’t have taken getting married so frivolously despite my mom’s beliefs.
Joey had to be right, at least right enough to consider his crazy plan. Something had to have happened. Something more than the safety I felt when he’d wrapped his arm around me earlier and protected me. Defended me. He’d do all that because that was the kind of guys all the Taylors were.
He’d done it for me, though. And my heart had fluttered, grown and stretched inside my chest with every touch from him.
I was attracted to my husband. At least there was that.
I snorted, took another drink and squinted at the bright sun. I’d barely eaten anything while everyone was there, my stomach too knotted to think about food. Probably, the smart idea would be to switch to water. Although if the last twenty-four hours proved anything, I wasn’t great at making the smart, responsible choice.
Who cared if it hit me too hard and too fast in the heated water and the hot sun? Passing out and sleeping the rest of the day and night away would probably be the best decision I’d made in the last twenty-four hours.
The rush of bubbles, the buzz of the jets and the heat of the sun on my face, along with the wine I slowly indulged in eventually loosened my muscles and relaxed me, enough so I closed my eyes again, heaved a sigh and…
“Black and odd! Yes!” I threw my hands in the air, stacked chips toppling next to me and to my right, Joey leaned in, laughing at my outburst.
“You’re on a roll.”
“You must be my lucky charm.” I kissed his cheek, laughed at my lipstick print I left behind and went to wipe it away with my thumb.
Joey grabbed my hand, brought my hand to his mouth and kissed the pad of my thumb. “Don’t. Leave it. Let everyone know you can’t keep yourself away from me.”
A fire lit in those dark eyes of his and sent a shiver through me in the most delicious way. Oh dear…
“You electrify this whole room. Do you know that?”
I was stunned. Speechless, gaping at him until the raucous alarms of someone hitting a jackpot at a nearby slot machine rattled the ground beneath my feet. Or perhaps the rattling was the way Joey kept looking at me. Touching me. Ever since I told him the next woman he married would be the luckiest girl in the world, something had shifted. He looked at me like he wanted me.
Perhaps it was the alcohol talking. Perhaps worse, it was the alcohol moving him to behave in such a way.
Regardless, I was having the time of my life with a man who looked at me like he couldn’t wait to get me alone.
“Joey…”
His name was a plea. A prayer of hope.
He rolled his lips together, held the pad of my thumbs to his full lips with that stormy gaze of his glued to mine.
“Place your bets!”
I startled, glanced down at my mess of a pile of chips. Joey nipped at my thumb, shot a shockwave of desire straight to my sex and then took my hand in his, and began restacking the chips.
“Place your bets, Gabby. You have more money to win.”
Somehow, I figured I was already a winner.
I jerked to a start, splashed water into my face and over the edge of the tub. The bright sun blinded me right before a shadow stopped in front of it, blocking the brightness and my lips parted.
Joey was in front of me, a towel draped over his arms crossed in front of him, gray swim trunks hanging low on his waist.
“Hey,” I said, pushing up to sitting. “How long have you been standing out here?”
His lips curved at the edges. He’d trimmed his beard, leaving only a scruff that I imagined would scrape perfectly against tender skin, skin that was currently heated and not from the water but from what I remembered.
“I didn’t want to startle you. You looked lost in thought.”
He was right. He dropped his towel and if I hadn’t lost thought at the memory of last night, I certainly did at the sight of him. Broad shoulders, curved pecs with a light smattering of hair, the delineation of his abs that showed the strength of his body so perfectly, he could have been a model. Posed naked on the cover of a male health magazine with only his hockey helmet protecting his most valuables. The man was breathtaking. Jaw-droppingly sexy. My husband—who I couldn’t remember so much as touching outside playful kisses and holding hands.
“I won five hundred playing roulette.”
His head tilted, and a surprised but adorable smile took over his face. “Did you?”
“I did.” His grin was infectious and I flashed him a matching one. “Are you going to join me?”
My knees trembled as I asked. He looked so good standing there, bronzed and strong, I could have stared at him for hours. It was probably better for both of us if he covered himself.
“You don’t mind?”
“It’s your house.” I snorted, waved a hand in the air. “Oh, but before you get in, would you mind grabbing more wine?”
He walked to the side of the tub, lifted the bottle I’d opened earlier and a spare glass. “Already thought of that.”