Deliver the Moon Read online

  Evan.

  She peered through the glass doors into the crowded reception. He’d be looking for her. No. He and her dad were probably drinking highballs somewhere having another deep discussion about politics.

  Inhaling the slow-cooling night air, Louisa watched the sun set over the Olympic Mountains across the water. She’d go back inside in a few minutes, when she was more certain she could handle herself in front of Gabe. This time she’d have control of her emotions. She wouldn’t go suddenly mute as she had in the receiving line. This time she’d tell him—

  “Beautiful night.” Gabe’s soft voice was right behind her.

  Louisa jumped but didn’t turn around.

  He moved beside her and leaned his hip against the railing. “I saw you disappear out here. Thought you might like something cold to drink.” He held out a glass.

  Louisa stared at it a moment before taking it, careful not to touch his fingers or look at him. “Thank you.” When the cool condensation dripped down her wrist, she finally took a sip. Cranberry juice and 7-Up. He remembered.

  When he lifted his own drink to his lips, she stared at it and frowned

  “Coca-Cola,” he said. “Straight up.” He grinned.

  Trying not to question the relief she felt nor the way her heartbeat sped up at his smile, she said, “How long has it been?”

  “Going on four years now.”

  “Good for you.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t.

  He stared at her, his dark brown eyes as intense as ever and just as unnerving. “How are you, Lou?”

  “Fine.” He didn’t deserve more of an answer.

  “You look good.” His gaze swept over her, and the old blush swept upward from her toes.

  He looked good, too. His wavy brown hair was glazed auburn from the setting sun, and brushstrokes of gray streaked his temples and sideburns. Five years wasn’t usually long enough for someone’s appearance to change too dramatically, but Gabe had changed. A lot. “You look older,” she said.

  He chuckled and ran the back of two fingers over her cheek. “Sweet, honest Lou. Always says what’s on her mind.”

  She averted her face, not liking the way her pulse sped up at his touch. She watched the evening traffic along Fourth Avenue far below for a few moments, not trusting her voice to speak.

  She didn’t always say what was on her mind, otherwise she’d tell him he looked wonderful. He was one of those men who grew more attractive with age, and at 33 years old, he’d definitely grown into his looks. The new lines around his eyes and the slight creases in his forehead enhanced the rugged plains of his face, toning down the angles, giving him more character. She’d always thought he looked like an actor from the bygone days of the 40’s and 50’s, craggy-faced like a Bogart or Mitchum.

  His body had also filled out. He’d always been lean and athletic, but now his shoulders and chest seemed broader, stronger. It was difficult to tell under that crisp cotton shirt, but she’d guess he’d put on 10 pounds or so since she’d last seen him. And from the way his shirt disappeared smoothly into the waistline of his charcoal slacks, none of it was fat.

  His years away from her were obviously good for him.

  “It’s the ponytail, you know,” he said.

  She swung her gaze back to his face. “What?” A warm evening breeze pushed dark curls into her eyes.

  “That’s why I look older. I cut off my ponytail.” He turned his head so she could see for herself.

  She smiled. “So you did. I thought maybe it was tucked into your collar. Did my mother mention it?” She’d never known him not to wear a ponytail. Her mother had always despised it, calling him a “hippie” even though those days were ancient history.

  “No. No, she didn’t. I think she was too much in shock to notice.”

  Louisa pushed the hair from her face. “It has been a long time, Gabriel.”

  Her smile disappeared, Gabe was sorry to see. But he’d noticed it never quite reached her eyes anyway. He leaned his forearms onto the railing. “You’d probably hoped never to see my face again, didn’t you?”

  Her eyes closed momentarily, and he watched the small movement at her throat as she swallowed. “Why are you here?” she asked. “Why now?”

  He swallowed a large drink of his cola. “You didn’t know I was coming, did you?”

  Louisa pressed her coral-tinted lips together, then shook her head.

  “I wouldn’t have come had I known that.”

  She shrugged and took a sip of her drink. “It’s a free country. You have every right to be here if you want.” She rubbed the tip of her finger around the rim of the glass. “But I’m sure you’ve had other opportunities to come back these past five years.”

  “I owed it to Sarah and Arty to come to their wedding.” He could tell by the lift of her small chin that wasn’t the reason she’d expected to hear. “And, of course, I wanted to see you.”

  That was the answer she’d expected, but her downcast eyes told him she hadn’t wanted him to actually say it.

  “After five years?” Her high heels brought her gaze level with his chin, her gold-flecked eyes bright with moisture. “You just disappear from the face of the earth without so much as a postcard, and that’s all you can say? You wanted to see how I’m doing?” Her voice rose a few notches. “I had no idea if you were dead or alive. I had no idea where you were. Last I heard, you were living in Phoenix with a photographer’s model.” Her voice caught with a strangled sound of disgust. “Then you even stopped writing to Sarah. All I knew about you was what I read online about your work.” She leveled an angry stare at him. “So don’t give me that crap about wanting to see me, okay? Just…don’t.”

  “Lou.” He leaned toward her, and she backed up. He sighed. “I don’t blame you for being angry. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me. But at the time, I thought I was doing the best thing by leaving.”

  “The best thing for you, you mean.” Her chin quivered as she sipped her drink, her face averted. She swiped at something on her cheek.

  Her bare shoulders turned away, presenting her back to him. Although the deserved rejection stung, it didn’t stop his gaze from tracing a path down her long neck, along the dark curls cascading from her upswept hairstyle to where they brushed against the pale skin between her shoulder blades. He followed the trail over the pink bodice molded to her petite figure, hugging her rounded hips before flaring out with a rush of ruffles and lace above satin pumps.

  “There you are, Louisa,” came a male voice from the shadows.

  Louisa turned and smiled. “Evan,” she said softly, apologetically. “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have disappeared like this, but I needed some fresh air.”

  She smiled again, this time showing her teeth. They were perfectly straight. They looked great of course, but for some reason knowing she’d finally bent to her mother’s will irritated the hell out of Gabe.

  The man Louisa had addressed as “Evan,” as “honey,” strolled to her side and slid a familiar arm about her waist. Gabe almost told him to get his hands off her. But he no longer had that right.

  Louisa glanced back and forth between the two men. She cleared her throat. “Evan Payne, this is Gabe, ah, D’Angelo.” She licked her lips. “Gabriel, this is Evan.”

  The men shook hands, then Evan’s eyes narrowed. “D’Angelo?” He scrutinized Gabe. “As in, ex-husband?”

  A muscle twitched in Gabe’s jaw. “One and the same. And you are…?”

  “Louisa’s boyfriend,” Evan said.

  Boyfriend, Gabe mused with an inward grimace. That term just didn’t seem to fit anyone over the age of 19. It certainly didn’t fit this Evan Payne who looked at least 15 or 20 years older than Louisa. Unreasonable jealousy getting the best of him, Gabe sized up the other man. Same height as he was, stockier build, blond hair, shrewd blue eyes. He despised the man on sight.

  He turned his attention to Louisa. Poor thing looked like she expected a fistfight to break out between
them. She should know that wasn’t his style.

  “So, Gabe, what brings you back to our fair city?” Payne asked with more than a hint of jealousy in his tone.

  “Besides the wedding, I have business in the area.”

  The answer didn’t seem to placate Payne. “Business.” A doubtful sound hissed through his front teeth.

  “I’m presenting a lecture series to the UW’s journalism department.”

  “You’re a reporter.” Not a question.

  Gabe was used to such a patronizing attitude from Louisa’s parents. Apparently, her “boyfriend” was of the same mold. That disappointed him, but didn’t surprise him.

  Louisa’s gaze darted back and forth between the men. She cleared her throat. “Gabriel is a photojournalist, Evan. He teaches photography at a college in Chicago and also works for World Geographic Magazine. He takes these beautiful, haunting photos of people living in war-torn countries.”

  Gabe refocused on her and bit back a grin, pleased she defended him in a round-about way. And pleased she was familiar with his work. Maybe she didn’t hate him as much as she let on. “Actually, I’m a documentary photojournalist, if you want to get technical.”

  “Actually, we don’t,” Evan drawled. “What a coincidence that you happen to have business in the same town where your ex-wife resides on the very same weekend her brother and best friend are getting married.”

  “Not a coincidence at all, Payne.” It was called having a good agent, and killing those two proverbial birds with one stone. The university had been hounding him for some time to speak to their classes, as he was an alumni, having done his grad studies there.

  Louisa’s cheeks reddened, and her hand shook around her glass. She cleared her throat. “So, Gabriel, will your photos ever make it to Seattle?”

  Evan glared down at her for the question.

  Gabe allowed himself a satisfied smile. “That’s another reason I’m in town. To coincide with my lectures, one of the galleries in the U District is displaying my new series. The opening is Thursday night.”

  Her eyes tinged with interest, but she didn’t have a chance to ask him more as Payne looped an arm around her shoulders. “Sarah needs us for the first dance.”

  With barely a glance at Gabe over her shoulder, Louisa let Payne lead her back inside.

  ****

  Louisa danced with the Best Man, a guy Gabe thought he recognized as an old frat buddy of the groom.

  He’d obviously shocked the hell out of her by appearing out of the blue. And she obviously had a lot of emotions hidden away concerning him and the demise of their marriage. But beneath her nervousness and wariness, he’d sensed a bit of the old spark—a spark he’d thought would be extinguished by now.

  She’d seemed interested in his work, too, which shouldn’t surprise him. After all, she’d stood by him all those years ago when his photography had been just a pipe dream. He wished he’d had a chance to talk to her about it.

  Gabe didn’t know what to think about Payne. The man shared too many traits with Senator Rhodes—same patronizing tone, same practiced and fake smile. Gabe would bet Payne was in politics, too.

  These internal rants sounded dangerously close to jealous ones. He hadn’t come here to get Louisa back. Had he? He’d wanted to see her again, sure, see how she was doing. Maybe even waylay some of his guilt.

  He blew out a long breath. Five years was a long time. They had separate lives now. Besides, the old problems would still be there. Father Time wasn’t a miracle worker.

  The song changed, and the couples on the dance floor switched partners. Louisa began dancing with her father. Her head rested against his chest, and her eyes drifted closed. Senator Rhodes caught Gabe’s eyes over the heads of the other dancers, and his hold tightened around his daughter.

  Gabe sighed as he watched them. He’d never understood Louisa’s relationship with her parents. For as long as he’d known them, they’d been critical of her. He didn’t know if all politically powerful families had such unreasonable expectations of their children, but Arthur and Beverly expected perfection. Louisa had been kept on a fairly short leash, told what to do and when to do it, what to wear and whom to associate with. She let them make far too many decisions for her. He knew she just wanted to please them, to make them proud. But from what he’d seen in the past, she’d never quite managed that. In her school days, an A should’ve been an A+. Homecoming princess could have been queen. Nothing was ever quite good enough.

  Why did she even bother trying to please them anymore? Why did it matter what her family thought?

  Himself? He had no family to impress. Gabe doubted his mother knew who his father was. She’d said she did, but Cara D’Angelo hadn’t exactly been a one-man woman. Pregnant at 15, she’d been thrown out of her house for disgracing the family. She’d done her best to care for Gabe, but her succession of “fathers” for him, and her ever-increasing drug habit, had forced the state to place him in foster care when he’d been just six years old.

  He’d gone through a string of foster homes by the age of 15, even spent time in a juvenile detention center. It wasn’t that he’d been a bad kid, just mixed up. He’d wanted nothing more than to live with his mother, to have a real family. But she apparently hadn’t wanted the same thing. She hadn’t needed him or anything else because she’d overdosed and died two days before Gabe’s sixteenth birthday.

  Gabe let out a long sigh. What was it about today that made him think so much about the past? He usually succeeded in keeping it tucked safely away in the back corners of his mind.

  The song changed again, and the Senator passed Louisa to her brother. After a few moments, Gabe made his move, tapping Arty’s shoulder. “May I?”

  Louisa’s face faded to white, and she clutched Arty’s arm as if to tell Gabe that dancing with him was the last thing she wanted to do, which was probably the case. But Arty placed Louisa’s hand into Gabe’s.

  Her fingers trembled as they entwined with his, and Gabe slid his other hand around her narrow waist. He closed his eyes a moment. God, it felt good to hold her, even though she was stiff as a board and just as tense. How long had he yearned to have her in his arms again? For more than the five years he’d been gone, certainly. He opened his eyes to find her parents glaring at him from beyond across the dance floor. He swung her out of their view.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed at him.

  “I’m dancing with the most beautiful woman in the room,” he said into her thick hair, which was the same fragrance as her perfume. He remembered she’d called it “layering” or something, when her perfume, lotion, and powder were all of the same scent.

  Her body remained rigid. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  “What did you mean, then?” He pulled her resistant form closer. Her shoulders heaved, but she ignored his question. “I’ve missed you, Lou.”

  She stiffened even more. “You’ve got a strange way of showing it, five years later.”

  He bent his head to whisper in her ear. “Did you miss me?” He held his breath for her answer.

  “I stopped missing you years ago.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she peered up at him with fire in her eyes. “You can’t just waltz back into my life like this. It’s been too long. I’m with Evan now.”

  Ah, yes. Mr. Payne. Such an appropriate name. “What is it with you two? You’re not serious about him, are you?”

  Louisa’s eyes widened as if he’d just insulted her, which he probably had. “Yes, I am, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Come on, Lou. He’s not your type.”

  “And you are? Is that what you’re saying?”

  She tried to put a little distance between their swaying bodies, but Gabe pressed his hand against the small of her back, preventing her from moving away.

  She gasped against his shoulder as their hips touched. “Gabriel!” she hissed. “My family’s watching.”

  Gabe ignored his sliver of a
nnoyance that she was still so concerned with her family’s opinion. He pictured her mother’s reaction and almost smiled. “Just relax and dance with me.”

  When he heard her sigh, when he felt the way her heart pounded against his chest, his own heart almost skipped a beat. She still felt something for him.

  “How long are you going to be in town?” she asked, sounding carefully nonchalant.

  Long enough to win you back.

  The realization hit him hard. He swung her around and tightened his hold on her waist. “A week or two. Until I find a place to live.”

  “You—you’re moving back?” She was all tense again, her voice laced with uneasiness.

  “Yes. I’ve been wanting to get back to the Northwest for some time.” Truth was, this was the first he’d thought of it. However crazy it might be, it was the right thing to do. He knew that with sudden clarity.

  ****

  Louisa sensed Gabe’s gaze on her throughout the toasting ceremony. His piercing stare was a laser burning into her, turning her on and annoying her at the same time. Damn him!

  She scooted closer to Evan, determined not to let anyone see how Gabe affected her. Especially not Gabe himself.

  After the best man and the fathers of the bride and groom made their toasts, Evan stepped up to the microphone. “I have a toast of my own to make,” he proclaimed.

  Louisa could tell he’d had too much to drink. He always had to be the center of attention when he was drinking. He only drank too much when he was on edge. Gabe’s presence here certainly would’ve done the trick.

  “First of all, I’d like to toast the bride and groom.” He raised his champagne glass to Sarah and Arty who stood hand in hand to the right of the microphone. “May your lives together be long and prosperous.”

  Four hundred guests raised their glasses in agreement.

  Leave it to Evan to interpret happiness as prosperity, Louisa thought with a tight grin.

  He tapped on the microphone to get everyone’s attention again, and raised his glass. “And now I’d like to toast the lady in my life.” He held his hand out to her. After a brief hesitation, she took it. “As many of you know, Louisa and I have been seeing each other for almost a year now. Last night, I asked her a very important question,” he paused to let the ripple flow through the crowd, “and she promised me an answer tonight.”