Storm Warning

CHAPTER Seven





By Thursday, Gabe allowed a foul-tempered Tory to immerse from her sick room and join the world again. They walked down the busy street, hands linked like old friends.

Friends, Tory mused. There had been no more blood heating kisses or electrifying promises from Gabe. He’d been treating her like an invalid for the most part and would hardly even argue with her no matter how hard she tried to provoke him.

Well, Tory thought wryly, enough was enough.

No one discussed what had happened, except Gabe. He wasn’t as angry as he had been when he brought her home from the hospital, but there was something bothering him.

He never slept in his room with her, and he never left until she was asleep. A few times she awoke during the night to find an empty room. He was always back when she woke in the morning waiting with a plate of food to force feed her.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said after they settled on a park bench to share a giant, salty pretzel.

“Uh oh.”

“No, it’s good,” she hastened to assure him. “I’ve been thinking of Ashley and Phil. He got out of the hospital today.” She shrugged at his bland stare. “I called and checked. Anyway, they don’t have a storm cellar because they can’t afford one. Every year, our team puts on a fundraiser for a city shelter.”

“Oh really?” He shoved a piece of pretzel in Tory’s mouth.

“Mmm. This town has a shelter already.”

“So you intend to have a fundraiser to earn money for Ashley and Phil to install a cellar?”

“That’s the idea. Got any swim trunks, Wills?” She wriggled her eyebrows at him and polished off the pretzel.





“A carwash?” Adam asked skeptically.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun,” Tory exclaimed, bouncing on Adam’s bed. “We’ll have to run it by the team, of course. But I’m not worried. I can be very persuasive.”

“When do you want to have this carwash?” Adam asked while he dialed the room numbers of the rest of the team.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Adam and Gabe both squeaked in unison.

“Sure. It cost about three thousand dollars to put in a storm cellar. I already checked,” she said when Gabe opened his mouth to comment. “And whatever we don’t raise, I’ll pick up the slack.”

“No you won’t. I’ll do it. In fact, I should just pay for the whole thing and bypass this whole car wash business,” Gabe said just as Billy and Kary strolled in.

“What carwash business?” Billy asked.

“Just hold off until everyone’s in here. Tory just hates repeating herself.”

Tory stopped jumping on the bed and glared at her brother. “This is a wonderful idea. And you,” she pointed a finger at Gabe, “are not paying for it.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is my deal.” She held up a hand when he opened his mouth again. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

Gabe snapped his mouth closed and clenched his jaw. With his stormy grey eyes narrowed on Tory, he spoke quietly. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Everyone’s here now,” Billy said.

“Everyone!” Tory exclaimed, standing. “We’re having a car wash!”

“Why?” Jack and Joel questioned.

“You guys creep me out when you do that.” Tory shuddered and sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Because a family needs a storm cellar and we need our fundraiser for this year. I’m not selling kisses at a stupid booth again.”

“You what?” Gabe asked baffled.

“Sold kisses a few years ago in Kansas City. It was ridiculous and I refuse to do it again.” Tory shuddered again, this time at the clear image of a sweaty three hundred pound man popping in a breath mint and slipping her a twenty dollar bill.

“That’s interesting,” Kary said from the corner of the room.

“Not when it’s your lips, lady.” She waited for everyone to stop laughing at her. “Car wash. Tomorrow. I’ll take care of the signs and supplies.” She jumped off the bed and turned again to address her team. “Phil’s home from the hospital if anyone was curious. He’s doing well.”

“That’s good, Tory,” Billy said quietly.

She smiled at him, knowing that out of everyone, he would get it. Frankie gave her shoulders a light squeeze. She tweaked his beard and left the room.





Gabe watched her exit the room and exhaled slowly. The girl was a fireball, he thought, listening to the chatter around him—an interesting mix of toughness, intelligence, and compassion. The last should have surprised him, but every emotion Tory felt or provoked was as intense as the storms she chased. With extreme independence and exasperating stubbornness came a deep, profound empathy for the people around her. She made him feel things he shouldn’t be able to feel right now.

Billy ran a hand through his shaggy hair, shaking his head. “What’s she got going on through that head of hers now?”

“You know Tory. Best thing to do now is grin and bear it. Car wash, tomorrow. Guess I got to go buy a suit.” Adam grimaced.

“Same here. I don’t think I packed one.” Gabe thought about Tory in a suit and had to bite back a groan.

He’d been a perfect gentleman the past four days—taking care of Tory, listening to Tory, and being a friend to Tory. It was slowly driving him mad.

Every minute he had to spend with her in that little room was pure, agonizing torture. He had to see her all soft and rumpled when she woke up every morning. He had to see her when she was warm and sweet in her sleep. He’d penetrated some of the layers to her and could help but admire what he saw.

She was strength and compassion bundled into a desirable little package.

Gabe left Adam’s room and went to his own. He smelled her there, he thought as he crossed the room to start a fresh pot of coffee. Once he had that done, he sat down at the table with his laptop and opened the file he’d been secretly working on.

He scanned the list of miniature pictures as they displayed on the screen. He’d been taking snapshots of the team throughout the season. He had a project in mind and took some time every night to work on it. It would be a gift to the team when his time was up.

He ignored way his stomach turned as it did every time he thought of leaving. After the season ended, he would no longer have an excuse to hang around Tory or the other team members. Hell, he thought wryly, he had plenty of shots for his portfolio. He was basically paying five grand a month to spend time with Tory.

He saved the picture of Adam at his tripod and went on to the next photo. He paused—his fingers going still as they hovered over the keyboard—when Tory’s picture emerged on the screen. His heart took several hard knocks against his chest and his stomach sank the way it did every time he thought of that moment.

He hadn’t even meant to take this picture. His mind had already told his feet to move—to chase after Tory, but his thumb had pressed the button on the shudder release on its own accord. Gabe zoomed in and stared at the picture, once again facing the moment that had cost him hours of sleep.

There was a white house in the background. The massive tornado was breaking it apart. A small, tawny haired girl ran toward it, her hair was flying all around her. The image brought back the same helpless feelings he’d faced as he’d watched in horror as someone’s home was destroyed and they’re life turned upside down.

The picture was amazing, superb. It would make him thousands of dollars. It would give him more endless nights of no sleep.

He sighed and drank the coffee that had gone cold. After grabbing his wallet and camera bag, he left his empty room. Tory would be back after she bought the supplies for the car wash. She’d act nonchalant about the whole thing, but he knew she would be as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. Adam would tease her and she’d hide her embarrassment behind a wall of verbal insults and sneers.

God, he was starting to love her.





Tory picked out a turquoise bikini with a sparkling diamond in the center. Being the height of swimming season, her choices were somewhat limited, but she liked the color even if the bottoms were a little too skimpy.

She would just throw on a pair of cut off shorts, she’d thought as she’d paid for the suit.

She found the perfect lot at a pet store where they could set up. She was able to talk the owner of the store into letting them use part of the parking lot from nine to five the next day—and he agreed to let them use it for free.

Tory was high on luck as she walked out of another store. This time, she’d purchased three buckets, soap, sponges, and a water hose. She walked into the hotel parking lot when and spotted the obnoxiously red van that belonged to the Vikings.

With a muttered curse, she passed the van and the annoying orange-headed boy she detested emerged from the driver’s seat.

“Victoria Fairchild. What a surprise.”

Tory halted and her shoulders instinctively stiffened at his tone. His voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Her fists begged her to punch him in his pointy nose, but reason held them in check. Charlie would cheerfully file charges on her if she so much as flicked him.

“Charlie,” she said in a tone as pleasant as she could muster.

“Well, it’s been years. You look absolutely gorgeous. I knew you’d grow into your eyes.”

“If that’s a compliment, thank you. Otherwise, go to hell.” She gave him a brittle smile, then turned to walk away.

“Victoria,” he called her to a halt.

Grinding her teeth and shifting the heavy load around in her arms, Tory turned back to face the slimy, no-good weasel. “What?”

“How’s my brother these days?”

“I wouldn’t know. I left Vance.” She brought her chin up and jerked her shoulder. “Maybe you should give him a call.”

He inched his was over to her. She felt the weight of the sacks in her arms, but ignored the pain they caused. Charlie Johnson was just like his ignorant brother, she thought, bracing. She prepared herself for anything.

“Why would you leave my brother?”

“It’s not really any of your business. Is it, Charlie?”

She turned to leave again, but Charlie’s hand locked onto her wrist in a vice-like grip. She mashed her teeth together to keep from screaming—not from pain, but from his repulsive touch.

“Let go of me, Charlie. Or so help me—”

“What the hell are you going to do? Vance told me what a two-timing whore you are. You can lie all you want, but he knows all about you and your affairs.”

“My—” She was angry before, but anger couldn’t come close to the rage that boiled inside her. It surged, but she fought it back down. Anger wasn’t the way to deal with Charlie or his brother. “I don’t give a damn what you think of me. I don’t care what Vance thinks of me, either. It’s over and done, Charlie. Now let go of me or I swear you’ll be sorry.”

He stared at her for several blazing seconds, then his hand tightened on her wrist like a steel trap. She swore she felt bone grind sickeningly against bone before he released her with a shove. Several bags went flying to the ground.

While she caught her breath, she righted herself and concentrated on picking her supplies up off the ground. Tears blurred her vision.

“You better watch yourself,” Charlie warned silkily as she turned away.

Tory brought her chin up and fought to keep her voice steady. “Stay away from me and my team, Charlie. I would hate for you to bite off more than you can chew. You’re brother obviously did.”

Tory turned quickly and stormed into the hotel. She felt her composure slipping. Two more minutes, she begged herself. Get yourself to your room!

She felt the sting of tears again and blinked them away, but more were coming. She reached her door and hurriedly drew out her key. It shook as she tried to slide it into the lock.

The key slipped from her trembling hands and she bit back a sob.

“Tory?” The concern in Gabe’s voice had her turning away quickly. She stared at the locked door of her hotel room and drew in a deep breath. He swiftly scooped the key up, opened the door, and pushed her inside.

He peeled the shopping bags from her frozen arms and tossed them aside. “What happened?”

She could only shake her head. This was her problem, she kept telling herself. Don’t drag anyone into it.

“Tory, for God’s sake, tell me what happened!”

“It’s nothing.” Her voice was steady and the trembling was already ceasing. She would be fine, she told herself tersely. Get a grip!

“Then why are you shaking? And fighting tears?” He grabbed her arm in a firm but painless grip. “And where the hell did you get this?” He rubbed his thumb over the bruise that was already forming on her wrist.

“I fell and I—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he warned in a low, vibrating voice.

Tory swallowed and trained her gaze on Gabe’s shoulder. So much strength there, she thought, but he never used it in the wrong way. He had more than physical strength though, and that’s what pushed her to tell him the truth. “Vance—”

“Vance is here? Where is he?” Gabe demanded.

“No! His brother is here and he hates me!” Tory exploded on a rush of breath. “Vance lied about me and made me out to be some heartless tramp and he s-said that he left me. And Charlie’s mad—really mad at me!”

Gabe’s jaw was locked so tight she wondered how his teeth didn’t crack. He gave her shoulders a light squeeze, reassuring her in a thousand different ways that everything was okay and he was there for her. He grabbed a bottle of Coke from the refrigerator and wet down a rag. He brought both to Tory and sat down with her on the sofa.

“When and where did you see him?” he asked more calmly. He applied the rag to her wrist, keeping his touch gentle and thorough. It felt so good to be touched by him.

Tory shook her head at his question. “I don’t see how—”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Right before I came in. I ran into him in the parking lot.” She sighed and wrapped her fingers around the cool rag when he released her arm.

“Stay here,” he told her and rose. The murder was still in his eyes when they met hers. She shivered, not out of fear, but out of the startling realization that she loved him. He was willing to fight her battles at the same time he was willing to hold a cold rag to her bruise.

She loved him and she couldn’t let him get hurt because of her.

“No, no! Gabe, where are you going?” she grabbed a hold of his arm and clung tight.

“Get some rest. You’re white as a sheet.”

“No, you’re not going out there! Please don’t. Please, Gabe.” She begged, pleaded, and sobbed, but he was out the door with a slam.

Frantic, Tory ran out and knocked on Adam’s door. Before he could say a word, Tory yanked him out of the room by his shirt and was filling him in as they ran outside. Visions of Gabe broken and bleeding punctured her mind. Compared to Gabe, Charlie was a weakling, but there were seven men—eight with Vance—on their team who wouldn’t have any qualms about ganging up on one man. Tory didn’t like the odds.





Gabe strolled back inside just as Tory bounded down the last stair. He nodded at Adam and caught her cleanly by the waste.

“Come on,” he said, pulling her in after him.

“What happened?”

“Charlie and I had a discussion.” He didn’t mention how the discussion ended with Charlie’s face on the pavement. He would just keep that little detail to himself for now. He glanced back and saw Adam—who’d obviously looked out the window—possessing a knowing smile. He followed behind them as they made their way to their rooms.

“Sorry for the trouble, Adam.”

Tongue in cheek, Adam said, “That’s all right.”

“What did you do?” Tory asked him again. He unlocked his door and ushered her inside. The muscles in his chest tightened almost painfully as she brushed by him. All his nerve endings were frayed as he savored the jolt of awareness.

“I already told you,” he said, shutting the curtains one by one with a jerk.

“What did you say?” Tory demanded as he crossed to room to her.

“Don’t worry about this now.”

“I am worried about this now.”

Gabe was wound—whether from spending the past week acting like a choir boy or from knocking Charlie’s face in, he didn’t know. He felt like a tightly coiled spring on the verge of spiraling out of control.

“You feel all right?”

“What?”

“Your cuts, the headache. Are you feeling okay?”

She shook her head, baffled. “I’m fine, Gabe. I’ve been fine. Why aren’t you answering any of my questions? I have a right to know what happened.”

“I’ve been waiting to do this for days now.” His voice was rough and almost burned his throat. He pulled her up against him, searching her eyes—and finding the desire there—before bringing his lips down to hers.

“And this,” he said against her mouth and ripped the pins from her hair. Her sharp intake of breath slammed into him like a microburst. Every beat of his heart echoed in his ears while the blood rushed through them. He ran his hand down to her back until his finger tips encountered smooth skin.

She didn’t protest when he pulled her shirt off. It slid to the floor along with her under-shirt and bra. Hungry to feel her skin against his, he worked the buttons off his shirt, watching her take in the sight of him. He liked her this way—dazed and bewildered.

When he pulled her to him again, he felt swallowed up by the heat of her naked flesh against his. He strained for patience when he wanted to devour. Her breathing had quickened, coming in soft pants. He took her mouth again and felt her hunger match his.

Then his hands were at her breasts as he cupped her. She moaned, deep and low in her throat while his thumbs worked her nipples to straining peaks. His mouth was there next, tormenting her sensitive flesh. His tongue shot out and he traced, scraped, and sucked. When she was writhing against him, he abandoned her breast and trailed his lips up the side of her neck. He felt her shiver and it drove him more.

She ran her hands up his chest, her slender fingers setting small fires along the way, until they dived in his hair. She brought her lips to his and he kissed her greedily, drinking in her taste and knowing he’d never have enough. He picked her up, wrenching a small gasp from her.

“Gabe.”

There was uncertainty in her voice as she looked at him. He shifted her in his arms, caressing the tender skin on her ribs, and waited for her to continue. She bit her lip and tried a smile. “I don’t want you to think I’m like this with men. I’m not usually like this. I don’t sleep around.”

“This isn’t ordinary.”

“I know,” she whispered shakily.

He brought his lips to hers again and kissed her as he crossed the room. Finally, he laid her on the bed and worked her jeans down her hips. She was soft everywhere, he thought, struggling not to hurry. He was aching for her, a literal burn that wouldn’t go away until he had her. And even then—

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered when she was completely naked. Picking up where he left off, he caught the lobe of her ear with his teeth, giving it a small tug. Her breath caught in her throat, ended on a moan. He felt her fingers fumble with his jeans and he helped her slide them off. When there were no more barriers between them, he pulled away to look at her.

He took in her pale skin, his mouth watering in anticipation. He tasted the tender place between her neck and shoulder, reveling in the feel of her silky skin against his tongue. Teeth nipping, he journeyed down to her breast again, wanting her in that mindless state of passion again. Her eyelashes fluttered closed when he caught a pebbled nipple in his mouth.

He lingered there while she writhed beneath him, then his lips made a hot trail down to her stomach, stroking until she cried out.

He rose above her and wrapped his arms around her. She fit her head in the crook of his neck as he plunged into her. Her nails dug into his heated flesh as he moved, rocking her to fulfillment. She cried out, arched against him, and went limp. He followed her to completion and collapsed on top of her.

While they lay wrapped up in tangled sheets—sated, spent, and exhausted—he held her.

“Guess I should get in a fight with Charlie more often.”

Gabe laughed and ran his hand down her back.

“Go out to dinner with me tonight.”

Propping herself up on her elbow, she trailed her finger lazily down his bare chest. “Dinner? Isn’t that doing things a little backwards?”

He brought his hand up and ran his finger up and down the length of her arm simply because he could. “We can do this again after dinner if it makes you feel more thorough.”

She laughed. “I’m nothing if not thorough.”





The restaurant Gabe chose was exceptional. They served five-star Italian food over wine and candle light. The elegant ruby walls were offset by long streak free mirrors hanging throughout the dining area. A live musician played the violin, showcasing a sweet, romantic melody.

Tory watched the candles flicker, thinking this was the last place Vance would have taken her.

When their pasta was served, Tory dug in.

“This beats Stop and Run’s cuisine any day,” she commented between bites.

“Yes, I would have to say it does.”

“So, tell me about Gabe,” Tory suggested. “I realize as much as I know you, I don’t know very much about you.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“A little.” She sipped her wine and waited.

Gabe set his fork aside. “There isn’t really much to tell.”

“Tell me anyway,” she persisted. “I just slept with you and I know virtually nothing about you. I have a need to know some things.”

A full minute passed until Gabe spoke. He looked down at his empty plate, his tone low.

“I grew up in Los Angelas. Captain of the swim team, quarter back for the football team, and I was Valedictorian. I picked up photography in my sophomore year art class. Graduated from an Art Institute. Snapped a picture on the beach that made me thousands and opened up a lot of opportunities.” He shrugged. “There’s not really much else.”

“What about your family?”

“None.”

He didn’t care to elaborate. That would come, Tory thought, willing the small hurt away. Just because they’d slept together didn’t mean she was entitled to answers. Her heart stumbled in her chest when he said two words that said everything.

“They’re dead.”

Her head shot up. “How?”

“Motorcycle crash.”

“When?” It was barely a whisper.

“Eight days before you guys picked me up in Lincoln.”

Tory recoiled as if he slapped her. On a gasp, she brought her hand to her mouth and could only stare at him. She would have never guessed, never considered he could be going through so much pain.

And she had treated him so poorly.

“Oh, Gabe.” She reached her hand out and laid it over his. “I’m so sorry. Why did you come?”

“Why did I come?” His voice took on an icy quality and he took his hand out from under hers. “Because, Tory. You know better than anyone. Life goes on and there’s not a damn thing you can do to bring them back.”

Tory closed her eyes, reeling from the pain she felt in her heart for him, for herself. He was still grieving and at the same time, he hadn’t had the chance to grieve properly. “If I would have known you were dealing with something like this I would have—”

“Tried to be nice to me?” he suggested with some amusement.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “More sorry than I can say.”

“Don’t be. You kept me busy. I didn’t have time to brood.” His lips curved slightly, but there was sadness there. “I was too busy pissing you off.”

“Can you talk about it?”

“They came by to visit. My Dad is—was going through his mid-life crisis. He bought a Harley about six months ago. They rode that thing everywhere. I stood on the street corner waving them off. Got a call ten minutes later. Truck didn’t see the bike and plowed over it—over them.”

She didn’t speak. He needed this, she realized. He needed to talk about it. She had a sinking feeling that he hadn’t talked to anyone about it yet.

“If I would have realized that would be the last time I saw them, I’d have—”

“What?” she asked quietly.

“Hell, I don’t know. Is there really a point to ‘what might have been’?”

“No, I suppose there isn’t a point.” She drank the rest of her wine and laid her hand back over his, relieved when he turned his to link their fingers.

They ordered a chocolate brownie bowl with chocolate pudding inside, topped with enormous strawberries and whipped cream.

“Gabe, I’m not very good at this. I need to know—what is this between us exactly?”

“What do you want it to be?”

“I’m not sure.” She watched his face, frustrated when she couldn’t read his expression. “At first, I hated you. You infuriated me. Now, I guess I like you. A lot.”

“That’s a relief.” He smiled and the sadness was almost gone from his eyes.

“I’m not relationship material,” she said, staring down at her chocolate. “You should know that before it gets too late.”

“Vance?” he asked quietly.

She glanced up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you get that ridiculous idea because of Vance?”

“No. Yes. I don’t really know.” Had she ever thought of herself as a part of another person? It was hard to think back so far. Years of living with distant relatives and foster parents had muddled her perception of happy-ever-after. It was there for some people, she supposed, but she’d never thought about her own.

“Well, why don’t we try it this way for a while? I like you. You like me—a lot,” he added with a grin. “We stick together and see where we end up.”

He said it so casually, she almost winced.

If he could take sex as light as this, she mused, he wasn’t the type of man for promises. Fine with me, Tory thought with false calm. She never asked for promises. She would have to tread carefully now, she decided. She loved as she always loved—without reservations and without expectations.

“All right.” And she forced a bright smile. It would have to be enough.