Abigail's head was pounding when she finally blinked her eyes open. The air conditioning blew softly and a seagull squawked far off outside somewhere. Subdued lighting peeked through the slits of the closed blinds over the glass doors of her room.
Abigail sat up slowly, frowning at a glass of orange juice and a couple of aspirin on her nightstand. There was a note propped up against the lamp, which read HANGOVER REMEDY.
She frowned further when she realized she wore nothing but her panties beneath the covers.
Panic seized her as she remembered telling-no-DEMANDING Gabriel make love to her.
Oh-God! What had she done? She'd decided to trust Gabriel and sleep with him last night. Drinking had loosened her up enough to want more. Hugging herself, guilt weighed heavily within her. She'd sinned terribly.
She scowled at the pills, head pounding like a monster inside her skull. No pills. It was a pithy penance for what she'd invited, reveling in carnal immorality with Gabriel. The worst was, she had no recollection of it. Yes. That was certainly the worst part.
With a whimper, she rose and performed her morning ablutions in the adjacent bathroom. Her skin was pasty white and circles appeared under her eyes. Afterwards, she pulled her hair into a mercilessly tight bun. Black was the color for today. A black long-sleeved maxi with a high-buttoned neck.
Pushing her glasses up her nose, she trudged barefoot up the stairs and froze on the top landing.
Gabriel lay on an inflatable queen-sized mattress behind the couch. The white sheets were tangled around his left leg and just barely covering his groin. His entire right leg, hip, and torso was bare. He had a pink scar on his right hip and a few bruise marks on his arms, probably where the IV's had been. His brows were pinched together, his left arm tossed over his head, lips parted. A soft groan escaped him and his lashes fluttered over his cheeks. He was still asleep, and looked like he was in pain.
Abigail's hand came over her heart as hope soared. They couldn't have done anything the night before. He was still recuperating from a broken leg and ribs. But, who could have stripped her and put her to bed?
Michael strode in with Erica behind him. He carried a large carafe of coffee, and Erica carried two plastic grocery bags filled with goodies.
Michael frowned at Abigail. "You look awful. Did you take the pills I left on the nightstand?"
Erica beamed at her. "I'll just put these in the kitchen."
Abigail just gaped. Michael had put the pills and juice on the nightstand? Had he undressed her? Her face heated to a million degrees.
He looked at her funny. "What?"
Abigail fiddled with the buttons on her dress. Gabriel chose that moment to let out a long distressed groan followed by a hissed expletive.
Michael set the coffee down and grabbed a bottle of pills that sat on the counter.
"Ease up, old man. I'm coming," Michael huffed.
After filling a glass with more juice from the fridge, he strode out to the living room and squatted down beside Gabe, who was rising up on his elbows with a grimace.
Michael popped two pills into his mouth and tipped the glass to his lips.
Gabriel swallowed, and when done scowled at Abigail.
"H-hi," she whispered.
Green eyes narrowed.
Michael strode back into the kitchen. "Let me whip something up quick and I'll get back to you, Gabe."
"No," Abigail blurted. "I'll make breakfast. You can tend to him." Put some clothes on him—she thought.
Erica had made herself at home on one of the stools, busy with a small gaming device. When Abigail volunteered to make breakfast, she looked up with a pout, eyes big as saucers. "Ooh, maybe I should help too."
Michael's brows shot up. "Maybe not. Last time you tried to help in the kitchen the microwave caught fire."
Erica gave him a bored roll of the eyes as she slid from her stool. "The popcorn box said to microwave at high for two minutes. It didn't say anything about removing the package from the box."
Abigail's hands paused over the carton of eggs she was about to grab to stare at the other couple. Michael just gave her a shrug and proceeded to turn back to Gabriel.
Not wanting to see Gabriel naked, she busied herself scrambling eggs and chopping peppers, onions and tomatoes for her omelet. Erica made toast. At least she tried. Abigail had to run to release the lever on the toaster when the scent of burned bread began to permeate the kitchen. Erica had excused herself to go to the bathroom and hadn't returned.
Abigail frowned when she saw the toasting control had been turned up to maximum. Then, she had to run back to the skillet to turn her omelet over before it burned too.
Minutes later, as she arranged plates on the table in front of the glass doors to the balcony, she heard the familiar sound of Gabe's crutches thumping on the wooden floor, drawing closer.
Michael had taken him to the bathroom by the kitchen. She'd heard the shower running until a few minutes ago.
Abigail had set up a covered platter with the omelet as well as another two with the toast and some fruit and cheeses she'd diced up.
"Hope the coffee hasn't gone cold. Where's Erica?" Michael was saying.
"She said she needed to use the bathroom," Abigail answered turning toward the stairs, wondering which one she'd disappeared into. The house had four bathrooms.
Gabriel smelled of fresh soap and shampoo. He wore a pair of black, drawstring, cotton pants that hung off his hips enticingly. His wet hair was brushed back behind his ears. In the reflection she could see it reached just between his shoulder blades.
Michael shrugged and grinned at Abigail as he pulled out a chair for Gabriel. "Well, It'll be nice to eat something someone else cooked and have company for a change."
He also pulled out a chair for her and she sat, wondering at his words. "Erica's not very inclined toward the kitchen?" she asked with a polite smile.
Michael snorted and said nothing more as he served first her and then Gabriel some of the omelet.
Gabriel stared at his plate and sniffed. He looked intently at her as she spread some butter on toast and slid it onto his plate.
"Wow," Michael laughed. "You made a feast here, Abs. I'm jealous, Gabe."
He put fruit and cheese on the small dishes Abigail had placed by their plates and gave it to Gabe who was furthest away from it.
Gabriel frowned as he cut into the omelet slowly. Abigail waited with bated breath as he speared the first bite. Michael groaning lewdly had them both looking at him. The huge guitarist had his eyes closed, jaw moving slowly from side to side as he chewed.
"God, this tastes good," he moaned.
His golden eyes opened as he licked his lips and shook his head. "You've got to give me the recipe, Abs."
"Uh, sure," she replied as he took another bigger bite.
Her gaze slid to Gabriel who still watched his band mate, a little wrinkle between his perfectly arched brows.
He finally popped the morsel of egg into his mouth and began chewing also.
Abigail tried not to giggle at his expression. He looked shocked and stuffed some more egg into his mouth.
Abigail wasn't sure how much the men would eat, so she'd made the entire carton of eggs, twelve eggs in total. Except for the piece she was still nibbling at, they pretty much cleared out the platter, fighting over the last piece.
"She can make it for you whenever, man. Have some pity on me."
