I want to laugh. But the reality behind the reason for the funny things she’s saying is so fucking sad. It makes my chest ache.
Gabriel looks at me. And, I do the only thing I feel strong enough to do at this moment.
I collapse into his arms.Chapter ElevenGabriel“Baby. What is it?” I want to fix this for her, whatever it is that’s got my strong, capable woman looking like she’s ready to cry.
She holds up a paper and waves it at me. Takes me a minute to see what it is. Looks like a credit card statement with a stack of recent charges. I hold her against me while I look it over, and soon realize the problem.
I speak to her in a low voice so her mom doesn’t hear me. “Your mom’s?”
She nods mutely.
I want to take care of her. I want to ensure that her every need is met, and honest to God, I can see why this is a concerning amount, but to me it’s a fucking rounding error.
“Alright, babe, let’s talk with your sister and sort this out, okay?”
She looks up at me with wide eyes and shakes her head. “No,” she whispers. “Lexi’s getting married, Gabriel. I don’t want to upset things for her. I can’t…” she looks around her and whispers. “I don’t want to burden her with this.”
I hear her, but I know what needs to happen, and I’m not backing down, and I’ll make sure this isn’t a burden.
“And that’s admirable of you, but if the two of you are in charge of making sure this doesn’t happen again, we need to bring her in.” I fold the paper and put it in my pocket, then release Miranda and walk over to her mom. “Call Lexi. Tell her to come over so we can take care of this.” I hate to rush, but we’ve got to get back to Vegas. “Can you trust me, Miranda?”
She worries her lip, but nods, and a few minutes later I hear her in the other room calling her sister.
I turn to her mom. “Good book, Mrs. Montague?”
She clucks her tongue and wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“You, sir, are a rogue.” She points to the book, and I realize she really does think I’m the guy in the novel. I can’t help but snort at that.
“I’ll redeem myself in the end,” I quip, hoping that I have the vaguest idea of how romance novels sort themselves out. I hope.
I make a few calls. Pull a few strings. When I hear Lexi arrive, I meet the girls in the living room and get right down to business.
“Miranda, I have to get back home by one, so we’ll have to leave soon. But before we do, I want to ensure your mom’s taken care of.”
Lexi looks at me apprehensively, but I go on.
I pull the paper out of my pocket and hand it to Lexi. “You familiar with any of this?”
She looks it over, her eyes wide with concern, then covers her mouth when she gets to the bottom of the page.
“A jacuzzi? Oh my God.”
“Looks like your mom’s gone on a shopping spree. The first thing we have to do is take your mom’s credit cards so she doesn’t get herself in more trouble. Can you handle that, Lexi?”
“Yes, absolutely, but Gabriel, we can’t—”
I cut her off. This needs to be handled. Now. “I’ve got a long term care facility booked and ready to go for your mother. It’s ten minutes from here and only a block from Lexi’s apartment.” Please don’t ask me how I already had her address. “It’s a wonderful place. Five star reviews and excellent care. Lexi can still visit every day, but she can rest easy knowing your mom is safe.”
Relief washes over Lexi’s face but it’s quickly replaced by concern. “That sounds wonderful, but... expensive. I’m not sure we can afford—”
I shake my head and cut her off again. “I’ll take care of these charges and make sure they’re paid off, and I’ve already paid the facility for the first three months. I just want to ensure she’s safe and cared for before we leave. I’m sorry we can’t stay any longer this trip, but hopefully this gives you some support.”
“Gabriel, that’s generous. But to pay you back...” Miranda’s eyes are pleading, her face pained. She’s hating that she’ll feel like she owes me.
I smile at her. “Don’t worry. We’ll work out a business arrangement. Right, honey?”
She blinks once, then twice, then a little flush comes to her cheeks. “Yes, of course.”
Lexi cackles. Goddammit, she must know what Miranda’s business entails. I give her a pointed look, and she partly sobers, covering her mouth to stifle her giggles.
“Is she modeling for your studio, Mr. Lord? Hmm?”
This one’s a hot ticket, but I like her.