Slap Shot by Alicia Hunter Pace

Author:Alicia Hunter Pace
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crimson Romance

Chapter Thirteen

“I wish you’d come back to the condo and spend the night,” Amy said. She and Emile were standing at the front door beside the Davenports again, but this time they were saying goodnight to their guests. “It’s so late. There’s plenty of room.”

In fact, there was not plenty of room, even for a condo the size of Emile’s. With the Kelly clan staying over, there were barely enough places to bed everyone down, even doubling up in every bedroom and making use of the pull-out sofa in the den. Besides, with such a full house, life at Star View Towers was likely to be an extension of the party—and Gabriella had had enough party.

“Yes,” Emile said. “Come back with us. It’s so late.”

“I have to work in the morning. Besides, I’m sure Amy would like some time with her family.”

Amy nodded. “True. But that includes you.”

The words were so simple, so sincere. For whatever reason, Gabriella believed it. In fact, her previous paranoia had either vanished completely or been eclipsed by something else on her mind.

When she’d come downstairs earlier, it hadn’t felt natural to walk by Bryant without some kind of communication, but it had been necessary. It was obvious that Jarrett had detained him and Bryant hadn’t had a chance to find Emile, but that didn’t matter. She’d known from the text that Emile had been looking for her.

When she’d found him in the music room, he hadn’t blinked at the torn dress story, and the next several hours had been taken up with meeting Amy’s family—who were nice, but exhausting.

She hadn’t seen Bryant at all. Maybe he’d left.

Now everyone was leaving.

“Are you sure you want to drive back, Gabriella?” Emile placed an arm around her. “I can call an Uber for you.”

“Thank you, Emile. Really. But I’m not sleepy at all and I haven’t had a drink since the toast.”

He nodded. “But you will send me a text when you get home. Oui?”

“Oui,” she agreed.

“I will go out and ask for your car to be brought around.” Things really were back to normal. Gabriella felt that old, familiar annoyance she’d always felt when Emile hovered too much.

“No need,” a voice behind her said—the same voice that had recently whispered in her ear. “I’ll help Gabriella get her car.” His hand closed on her upper arm.

Emile broke into a smile. “Thank you, Swifty. You’ll stay with her until it’s brought around?”

“You can count on me.”

Once the door closed behind them, Gabriella said, “I am capable of getting my own car, you know.”

Bryant gave her a smoky look. “I doubt there’s anything this side of Mars you aren’t capable of. I wanted to talk to you.” He turned to the valet who approached. He wasn’t the same one from before. “Silver BMW crossover. Black Porsche Cayenne.”

“How do you know what I drive? I didn’t know what you drive.” It struck her odd that she’d had sex with someone without knowing that. Wasn’t that a basic fact? And she’d had so few lovers.

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