have any appointments that afternoon, it was cold as hell outside, and I wasn’t in the mood to brave the wind to go out and get lunch. I peeled the note off and read the first page just thinking I’d see if I wanted to bother taking what was damn near a whole ream of paper home with me for the weekend. See, that’s who I am. A guy who loves to read and got lucky enough to make it in an industry in which I get paid to do just that.
“But one page turned into three hours and the next thing I knew the janitor was knocking on my door frame to let me know it had started snowing harder over the last hour. I hadn’t even noticed it had gotten dark, Gabby, let alone started snowing. I was so pulled into your world, so consumed that I fell in love with this author I knew nothing about. Initials…I didn’t even know if you were a woman, except something told me you were.”
Gabby’s eyes widened, narrowed, the creases came and went across her face, her breathing increased as he drew her a picture of what the last f ew years of his life had been like. Chasing an elusive angel he knew he had to have. There was something in her writing that fulfilled him, as if she was writing just for him. Pieces of her soul Shane linked together and saw the match they made to his own.
“I grabbed up your book, my laptop , and found what had to be the last cab still running in that God-awful, freaking storm and got home an hour later. With a fire, a beer, and leftovers I poured over your manuscript. Then I read it twice more that weekend. I knew I had to have you. And when I finally got the writer on the phone, do you know what happened?”
She bit her lip, and try as she might to be aloof, Shane could tell immediately she remembered that phone call as much as he did. Being this close to the woman he’d longed for, pined for, was intoxicating. Gabby was as real as real got; there wasn’t any game to her, the sweet scent of vanilla with a hint of coconut encircling him. She was tumbling curls and model beautiful with no makeup. The girl next door with ripped jeans and love of cowboy boots. In his hold, she wasn’t full of fire like she was across a thousand miles of phone line. Gabby was a mystery he was quickly unfolding, even though through his whole admission, she’d yet to say a word.
“You…you were a total brat on the phone.” Gabby’s mouth dropped open, but before she could speak, Shane silenced her with a kiss, then whispered against the side of her mouth, “and I loved it. You told me I took too long to get back to you—which I’ll have you know was less than forty-eight hours. And you hung up on me. Me, Gabby. You hung up on me . Do you know how many authors beg for me to call them back? But no, you knew you were good. And I knew I’d fallen in love. First with your passion on paper, then your voice on the phone, and your fire. But you’ve driven me from crazy to sane and back again too many times to count. I can’t tell if I’m coming or going, all I know is that I love seeing your name come across my email, or listening to your slaps on the phone when you actually take my calls. You don’t want me for who I am. You’re not using me. There are no pretenses. We both just love something in common.
“But , Gabby…for me—it’s become more.”
“You have been exposed to way to o many fucking exhaust fumes in that damn city of yours you…you crazy…fool!” Gabby’s heart pounded so hard she felt dizzy. Shane still had his hands on her upper arms, and her barb only made him grin all goofy-like before tipping his head back, laughing out loud. “What the hell is wrong with you? Did you get drunk at Jenny’s before you got here?”
“Drunk? No. Gabby, I’m laying my cards out for you to see, and I love that you’re just you.”
“Who the hell else am I supposed to be?”
“You don’t get it.” He smiled.
“Oh I get it all right. New Yorkers are freaking nuts, and you’re the King of