He flashed his sexy-as-hell grin. “And good morning to you, too.”
“Forget the bullshit pleasantries and cut to the chase.”
“Won’t you sit down?” he asked.
“In case you missed it, this is my office, and I’ll sit down when I damn well please.”
“Man, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?”
“Excuse me?”
“I just meant it seems as though you woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“I woke up just fine, thank you very much. It’s my present company that’s pissing me off.”
Gabe held up his hands. “Look, I’m truly sorry if I offended you yesterday.”
“I’m thinking you’re sorry I bruised your inflated ego, not that you offended me,” I countered.
“I really need to talk to you. Can you please give me just five minutes?”
“Unless there’s something else wrong with your Jeep, we have nothing to talk about.”
“My Jeep is fine.”
I jerked my thumb at the door. “Then have a lovely day.”
“Are you always this infuriating, or is the universe just really fucking with me?”
“If anyone is infuriating, it’s you. I’m pretty sure I made myself abundantly clear last night when I told you I didn’t want to sleep with you.”
“I’m not here to ask you to sleep with me again.”
“You’re not?” I asked. I hoped my surprise masked the slight disappointment I felt that he wasn’t there to ask me out again.
Shaking his head, Gabe said, “I have a different proposition for you.”
“Why do I not like the sound of this?”
Gabe huffed out a frustrated breath. “Would you please just sit down for a minute?”
“Fine.” Slowly, I walked around the side of my desk before plopping down in my chair.
After sitting for a few seconds in stony silence, Gabe said, “Your dad’s a cool guy.”
“Yes, he is.”
“He was kind enough to keep me company when I first got here, not to mention hospitable. He told me all the places where I could eat in town.”
“That’s my dad, always kind to the stranger—and the undeserving.”
A smirk curved his lips. “Talk about not looking the type.”
“What does that mean?”
“I would have never pegged you for being a football player.”
Inwardly, I groaned at the thought of Gabe seeing Dad’s pride wall in the far corner of the shop. There were pictures of all the accomplishments of his daughters, as well as Linc. There were also framed prints of the newspaper articles about when I joined the football team. “Your dad told me all about how you went from playing soccer to being the kicker. I don’t think I’ve ever met a female football player.”
“I’m sure you would prefer the thoughts of me in a cheerleader skirt, right?”
“Actually your arena football uniform was far racier than a cheerleading one,” he replied with a wink.
Ugh. Like I really wanted to be reminded of the days I’d played in the league by someone like Gabe. In my defense, it was a good way to stay in shape, and the extra money helped out. That said, I seriously needed to take those pictures down and burn them. If it wasn’t Gabe leering at them, it was one of the other men in town. Raising my brows, I said, “Why don’t you nix the bullshit and get to the point?”
“Fine. Do you remember yesterday when I told you about how I’ve been having so much trouble songwriting?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, last night, I was able to write not one, but three songs.”
“While I applaud you, I’m not sure what this has to do with me.”
“It has everything to with you. You inspired them.”
The conviction of his tone had me sitting up straighter in my chair. I blinked at him in disbelief as I tried processing the enormity of what he had just said to me. “Let me get this straight: you believe I helped inspire the songs you wrote?”
“Without a doubt in my mind.”
The only reply I could manage was, “Wow.”
I’m sure you’ve heard artists use the term muse before.”
“I have.”
“After the hell I’ve been through with writer’s block the last few months, there’s not a doubt in my mind that you are my muse, Rae.”
Holy shit. A rich and handsome musician was sitting before me professing that I was his creative muse. Things like that just didn’t happen—at least they never had for me. My ex had never called me his muse or told me I was inspiring. The only thing I’d inspired in him was the ability to blow out of town and never look back.
“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t totally flattered by what you’re saying.”
Gabe leaned forward in his chair. “I didn’t come here to flatter you. I came to here to ask you to continue feeding my muse.”
“Just exactly how would I do that?”
“By spending time with me.”
I widened my eyes at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“Trust me, I wouldn’t be throwing myself on the mercy of a woman who rejected me if I wasn’t.”
Sitting back in my chair, I surveyed Gabe. Gone was the cocky and arrogant man who had hit on me the day before. In his place seemed to sit a much more sincere and down-to-earth person. I wondered if his truer self was more like my first impression, and now he was merely putting on an act to get in my good graces. After all, he knew full well what I thought of the previous day’s man.
“You think by hanging out with me, you could write even more songs?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but there’s something about just being in your presence that inspires me.”
Nibbling on my bottom lip, I replied, “I don’t know. I mean, I’d like to help, but I do have a very busy life. I’m not quite sure how I would fit time in to be your muse.”
“I’m willing to compensate you for your time.”
My eyes bulged. “Like a hooker?”
Gabe scowled. “Of course not. I’m not paying to fuck you, just to hang out with you.”
“I’m sorry, but something about a man paying for my time screams prostitute.”
“Look, I’m just trying to make this beneficial for you.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I remarked, “It sounds pretty desperate.”
Lightning-quick anger flashed in Gabe’s eyes. “Trust me, nothing short of extreme desperation would ever have me begging any woman, least of all you.” Ouch.
While there had been a part of me that had softened to Gabe’s plight, his last statement caused it to shrivel up and die. “For being an alleged songwriter, you certainly don’t know how to say the right words to benefit your case.”
Gabe grimaced as he raked a hand through his hair. “Okay, so maybe that didn’t come out like I meant it to.”
“I’m pretty sure you said exactly what you truly feel. Because of your lack of respect for women, there is no amount of money you could offer that would induce me to spend time with you.” Rising out of my chair, I motioned to the door. “Now I’d like you to leave.”
Jacob's Ladder: Gabe (Jacob's Ladder #1)
Katie Ashley's books
- Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game
- Music of the Heart (Runaway Train #1)
- Music of the Soul (Runaway Train #2.5)
- Nets and Lies
- Search Me
- Strings of the Heart (Runaway Train #3)
- The Pairing (The Proposition #3)
- The Party (The Proposition 0.5)
- The Proposal (The Proposition #2)
- The Proposition (The Proposition #1)
- Beat of the Heart
- Melody of the Heart (Runaway Train, #4)