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Renegade Page 10
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He wanted Summer! Not only to share her bed or her future, but to assume total responsibility for her.
He had laughed and scoffed at his cousins when they’d professed to falling in love with their future wives on sight; however the laugh was now on him because what he felt for Summer was nothing like what he had ever felt for any other woman.
It was the first time he’d eaten dinner and drank champagne with a woman without exchanging a word with her. Neither had felt the need to initiate conversation because it was unnecessary. They’d found a way to communicate silently. They had come from a quiet, relaxing venue to one pulsing with music and energy, and suddenly Gabriel wanted to be anywhere but at the club.
He longed to retreat to Cotuit and the solitude of his beachfront home. He wanted to sit on the porch with Summer and listen to the sound of the waves washing up on the beach. The song ended and they eased back slightly, staring at each other.
Rising on tiptoe, Summer pressed her cheek to Gabriel’s clean-shaven one. “Let’s get out of here.”
He stared at her, complete surprise on his face. She had read his thoughts. “Come.”
Elbowing his way through a crowd standing three-deep at a massive bar, Gabriel came face to face with a woman who had once dated several members of his band—at the same time. He tried to step around her, but she looped an arm through his free one, holding him fast.
“Gabe Cole,” she crooned seductively. She swayed unsteadily. “Hey, baby. What are you doing in Bean Town?”
He stared down at her. “Hello, Stacy.”
Her mouth turned down in a seductive pout. “You didn’t answer my question, handsome.”
“I’m visiting.”
Stacy pointed at Summer. “Visiting that?”
Summer glared at the petite, redheaded woman, then looked up at a scowling Gabriel. “Can we please leave now, darling?”
Gabriel winked at her. “Of course, sweetheart.” He offered Stacy a plastic smile. “Please let go of my arm.”
Stacy dropped his arm as if it were a venomous reptile. “You ain’t that hot, Gabriel Cole!” she shouted to his back as he steered Summer toward an exit door. Several people turned to stare at them before they disappeared through the door and into the night.
Stepping out into the cool autumn night, Summer shivered noticeably. Gabriel removed his jacket and laid it over her shoulders.
“If she hadn’t been so drunk, I would’ve kicked her butt for mauling my man,” Summer said deadpan.
A smile crinkled the skin around Gabriel’s eyes as he dropped an arm over her shoulders. “Let’s go home, tiger.”
Summer wound her arm around his waist, her body pressed against his length, as they walked the three blocks to the garage where Gabriel had parked his car. It wasn’t until she was seated and belted-in that a feeling of total relaxation settled over her. Champagne always had that effect on her. She managed to conceal a yawn behind her hand. A minute later, she was asleep.
Gabriel stopped at a traffic light, glancing at his passenger. Her head hung at an odd angle. Pressing a button, he lowered her seat to a reclining position. She moaned softly but did not wake up.
A secret smile curved his mouth when he recalled Summer talking about fighting for him. He did not need a woman to protect him, however, it was reassuring to know she was willing to take care of what belonged to her.
What she did not know was that he would do the same for her.
Summer Montgomery did not know that Gabriel Morris Cole had claimed her—she belonged to him.
Ten
A ripple of excitement had swept over Weir Memorial High with the announcement of the spring musical pageant. Students stood around in small groups in front of the bulletin board where Summer had posted an open audition for actors, actresses, singers and dancers. The lists had filled up quickly, and after two days, there were eighty-four names.
She knew realistically half would be rejected because of an inability to carry a tune, follow choreography, or remember cues. Those who did not make the first cut would be offered the opportunity to work behind the scenes in lighting, wardrobe, and stage handling.
Summer had given herself a week for the auditions. She had reserved the auditorium from the hours of two to five, Monday through Thursday of the following week. A sharp rap on the door garnered her attention. Her head came up and she smiled at the man whose broad shoulders filled out the doorway.
“Is it too late sign up to audition for the spring pageant?”
A sensual smile curved her mouth. “I’m afraid it is.”
Gabriel’s dimples winked at her. “Can’t you make an exception, Miss Montgomery?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Cole, but the rules state once the sheets are filled, auditions are closed.”
Strolling into the office with a pronounced swagger, Gabriel pulled out the chair at his desk and straddled it. Resting his elbows over the back, he angled his head and stared at Summer. It was the first time he’d seen her with her hair loose. It flowed around her shoulders, moving sensuously whenever she moved or tilted her head.
“How many signed up?”
“Eighty-four.”
He winced. “Ouch! I didn’t know Weir had that much talent.”
She wrinkled her nose, charming Gabriel with the gesture. “Only time will tell who has talent.”
“Surprisingly, there’s a lot of raw talent in this school. Selecting the candidates for the scholarships is not going to be easy.”
“Drawing from a pool of seniors narrows the prospects significantly.”
Gabriel could not take his gaze off Summer. During the drive from Cotuit to Whitman Sunday afternoon he’d apologized to her for his aggression in coming onto her. He had endured several anxious minutes when he encountered silence from her. Summer finally belied his apprehension saying she would accept the apology, although she did not believe his sincerity. It was only when he noticed a smile playing at the corners of her mouth that he felt that he had been vindicated.
Summer stared at Gabriel through her lashes. She knew she was staring at him like a dumbfounded fan, but it wasn’t the first time she had to ask herself why was she drawn to him because he was a musician. Once she realized she was going to pursue a career in theatre she had made it a practice not to date actors, singers, dancers, or musicians. She had wanted to compete on stage, not in a relationship. But that pattern was shattered the first time she shared an offstage kiss with Gabriel.
She had spent most of her life as an actress, playing her part to perfection. It had begun with her parents. There was never a time when she would let them see her cry when they left for their medical missions, and she refused to let anyone see her joy whenever they returned.
The only time anyone saw the real Summer Montgomery was when she held her infant brother for the first time. The love she’d yearned to show her parents she showered on Charles. And the most difficult decision she had ever made in her life was leaving St. Louis for New York to further her career.
She’d arrived in The Big Apple with stars in her eyes and enough enthusiasm to light up Broadway. It had taken her two weeks to land a job with the chorus of an off Broadway musical, and a year later she sang two solos in a limited-run Broadway revival of a montage of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical productions. Her singing ability caught the eye of a well-known producer who selected her as understudy for his next play without auditioning her.
But her rosy world shattered like the pellets that had ripped open her brother’s chest. A little part of her died and was buried the moment Charles’s casket was lowered into the earth. It was later, after she had joined the DEA, that she thought she had found a way to resurrect her spirit. The moment she stepped into her role as Renegade she felt alive, pulsing with the energy that went along with the dangerous masquerade.
But on the other hand, what had taken her five years to perfect was shattered in the three weeks since she had come face-to-face with Gabriel Cole. She believed there was a
mysterious, hypnotic force in the large golden eyes that had the ability to see beyond her perfect performance to see the real Summer Montgomery. Not the Summer who had become Weir’s drama teacher, but the Summer who wanted to fall in love, marry and have children, the Summer who lived in fear that she would be exposed as a federal drug agent, the one who had recurring nightmares that her life would end in a hail of bullets.
Spending the weekend with Gabriel had offered her a glimpse of normalcy for the first time in her life. The mundane tasks, like sharing in the preparation of breakfast with him had become a special event. Even sitting in the tiny French restaurant for several hours and not having to open her mouth to communicate with him was an experience she would cherish forever.
And what she had shared with Gabriel this past weekend she wanted again and again—for a long time, if not forever.
Her lashes swept up, and she smiled at him. “Are you doing anything tonight?”
Gabriel was shocked at the query, but recovered quickly. “No. Why?”
“I thought I’d cook for you tonight. Is there anything you don’t eat?”
His eyes roamed over her face and upper body. “No. I eat everything.”
Summer felt the heat in her face when she registered his double meaning. “So do I,” she said softly.
Gabriel’s smile was dazzling. “Good. What time is dinner?”
“Is five too early?”
“No. I’ll make certain not to eat too much for lunch.” The bell rang, and he stood up. “Is there anything you’d like for me to bring?”
She shook her head. “No. Just yourself.”
He winked at her. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
Summer watched Gabriel walk out of the office, knowing she had just turned a corner in her life. Her role as Renegade would end in less than ten months and what she was now preparing for was the role that had evaded her for most of her adult life: a woman who had found herself falling in love for the first time.
Loud voices, laughter, and a shrill feminine voice telling someone to leave her alone greeted Gabriel as he walked into the music room. Two boys had trapped a girl in a corner. He slammed the door, rattling windows, and within seconds there was complete silence.
All eyes were trained on the tall man with the long ponytail. Only a few of the students knew who Gabriel Cole the musician was, but it had only taken one day for them to become familiar with his teaching methods.
“What’s going on here?” Lakeisha Hudson scooted to her chair in the violin section, while the boys who had been teasing her sat down with the others who played trombones and saxophones.
Walking to the front of the room, Gabriel gave each student a measured, penetrating stare. “I want you to understand right here, right now that this is not the schoolyard or the gym. What I just witnessed will not be tolerated.”
“Oh, lighten up, Mr. Cole,” a trumpet player hissed.
“Light your butt outta here, Glenn,” Gabriel countered quickly. “Go sit in Mr. Gellis’s office for the period.”
Walking over to a wall phone, he punched in the extension for the assistant principal’s office. When the secretary answered, he said, “This is Mr. Cole. I’m sending Glenn Peterson to see you for the period.” He turned back to Glenn, who hadn’t moved. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said quietly, “Out.”
The single word got Glenn’s attention immediately, along with the others in the room. The students liked their new music teacher because he had inspired them to reach beyond what they’d been taught. Most of them had learned to play an instrument while still in grade school, and although only a few were serious music students, they enjoyed performing together. Once Gabriel had announced he wanted to form a jazz band from those students in the orchestra the enthusiasm to excel was apparent.
Of all the students in the orchestra, six foot, six-inch Glenn “Tree” Peterson had exhibited the most talent. Gabriel had concluded the straight A student’s musical aptitude was comparable to legendary trumpeters Louis Armstrong and Miles Davis. Tree, as most students referred to him, was point guard for Weir’s basketball team, averaging twenty points each game. As a senior, Tree had to decide whether he wanted a career as a musician or one in the NBA.
The door closed behind the gangling student. Gabriel rested his elbows on the wooden podium and smiled. The tension in the room dissipated with his expression.
“Before we begin practicing this morning, I’d like to talk to you about the musical pageant scheduled for the spring. How many of you signed up to audition?” Four hands went up. “Forget it!” The students laughed. “I need you here creating music, not singing and dancing.
“The drama teacher, Miss Montgomery, is in the process of putting together a production depicting the evolution of song and dance in the Americas. I say Americas because it will cover not only the United States, but also South and Central Americas. And as musicians, it’s up to us to provide the music.”
A cellist raised her hand. “What kind of music, Mr. Cole?”
“Everything from Native American drumming to Ragtime, jazz, rock and roll, Country and up to and including hip-hop.” A loud cheer went up in the room. Gabriel didn’t think he would ever get used to their enthusiasm. “This means we’re going to have to work very hard to make it a rousing success. There’s going to be something for everyone: your grandparents, parents and your peers.”
Howard Slavin raised his hand. Gabriel had been working with the sax player after classes ended, and the extra tutoring had paid off. Howard was now confident to perform enough in front of the others.
“When do we start practicing for the spring pageant?”
“After the Christmas recess. Remember, we still have the Christmas musical to do first.”
“If that’s the case, then let’s kick it, Mr. Cole.”
Gabriel cut his eyes at Lakeisha, successfully hiding a grin. Petite, and very cute, Lakeisha had perfected flirting until it had become an art with her. It hadn’t surprised him that the boys were teasing her, because he suspected she had been teasing them. Teasing among young children was usually harmless, but in the hands of adolescent boys and girls, it was dangerous and volatile.
Picking up a baton on the podium, he tapped it rhythmically against a corner. Glancing to his right, he nodded to the violinists. “Key of A minor.” Closing his eyes, he listened intently as they went through their scales.
The doorbell from downstairs chimed throughout the apartment, and Summer took a sweeping glance at everything in the living/dining area, then walked over to the door.
Picking up the receiver on the wall, she said, “Yes?”
“Gabriel,” came the drawling reply.
She replaced the receiver and pushed a button, disengaging the lock on the door leading to the street. She unlocked her apartment door, leaving it ajar as she returned to the small utility kitchen.
Two minutes later she felt the warmth of a body behind her. Glancing up over her shoulder, she met Gabriel’s intense stare.
“It’s not safe to leave your door open.”
“Why’s that?”
“You never know who might just walk in.”
“Like you?”
He lifted his eyebrows, smiling. “Yes. Like me.”
She tried turning around, but couldn’t. Gabriel was too close. “Let me go.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Gabriel stared at the hair she had swept up in a ponytail. Reaching up, he removed the elastic band, and a wealth of thick raven strands floated down around her neck and over her shoulders.
“I like it down,” he said against the nape of her neck.
She smiled. “You like lots of hair.”
“No, Summer. I like you. I’d like you even if you shaved your head.”
She wanted to tell Gabriel the long hair had become a part of her undercover role whenever she had pretended to be younger than she actually was. But the long hair would soon become a part of he
r past when she resigned from the DEA. Her plans included changing her appearance and taking her grandmother with her on a month-long cruise around the world.
“How long has it been since you’ve had short hair?”
Gabriel moved back, and Summer turned to face him. “Almost four years.”
“It must grow quickly.”
“It does,” he confirmed. “Both my parents have a lot of hair.”
Summer stared at him staring down at her. He was so still, only the rising and falling of his chest indicating he was alive. Her gaze caressed the high cheekbones, the sweep of lashes brushing those cheekbones, the straight nose with the narrow bridge, and the sensual mouth that she yearned to taste and caress with her own. She lowered her gaze, certain Gabriel would be able to read the hunger radiating in the dark pools.
“Are you hungry?”
Gabriel smiled. “Starved.”
Her smile matched his. “Good.”
“I brought something. I left it in the living room.”
“You didn’t have to bring anything, Gabriel.”
He ran his forefinger down her cheek. Lowering his head, he said, “Yes, I did, because I was raised never to go to a person’s home empty-handed.”
“Well, I was raised the same way. But I didn’t bring you anything when I went to your house last weekend.”
“Yes, you did, Summer. You brought yourself.” Cupping the back of her head in his hand, he brushed his mouth over hers, leaving it burning.
Placing a hand on the middle of his chest, she eased him back. “Let’s go eat, Gabriel.”
Bright sunlight coming through patio doors bathed the dining area in a warm glow. Summer had set the table with colorfully patterned dinnerware she had purchased from Pier I. Most of the furnishings were compliments of the store. The check she had received from the government was just enough for her to purchase accessories for the furnished apartment to make it looked lived-in. If she had wanted to purchase Waterford stemware or Lenox china, then those would come from her own resources.