She glanced up to find Gabe watching her intently.
“JT obviously has good taste,” he murmured in a low tone.
Raising a brow, she didn’t try to come up with a response. Since JT was starting to doze off, she gently stood and tiptoed out of the room. Gabe followed her, softly closing JT’s door behind him.
By mutual consent, they moved into the living room so they wouldn’t wake him. Gabe’s expression held chagrin. “I suppose you think I’m an idiot for calling you over.”
“Not at all.” Holly subtly looked for pictures of JT’s mother, but didn’t find any. “I’m sure it’s not easy being a single parent.”
“No, it’s not.” Gabe dropped onto the sofa with a sigh. “I don’t know what got into me, but suddenly I was staring down at him, thinking the worst. And then I thought of how stupid I’d look if I took him in for nothing. But if you hadn’t answered your page, I probably would have risked it.”
“Hey, it’s all right. I really don’t mind.” She sat in the matching love seat across from him. “I know it’s none of my business, but where is JT’s mother?”
Gabe stared at his hands for a long minute, before lifting his head, his eyes dark with pain. “She died in a car crash less than five weeks ago.”
“How awful,” she murmured, thinking it was a good thing JT had someone like Gabe as his father.
“Yeah, it’s been a little rough, more so for JT.” Gabe abruptly stood. “Are you hungry? I made some spaghetti for dinner but JT wasn’t hungry. The least I can do is feed you for your trouble.”
His abrupt change of subject caught her off guard, but hearing that JT’s mother had died so recently she supposed she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to talk about it.
Gabe headed for the kitchen, leaving her little choice but to follow him. She knew being here with him was like tempting fate to repeat itself, but the spicy garlic and oregano scents drew her forward.
“Have a seat.” Gabe waved at the small, oak kitchen table. “This will only take a few minutes to warm up.”
Her stomach chose that moment to rumble loud enough for Gabe to hear. Leaving now that he knew she was famished would be too obvious, so she sat. “Guess I am a bit hungry after all,” she admitted with a sheepish smile.
Gabe flashed a grin and opened his fridge. “Let’s see, I really wish I had a bottle of fine Italian wine to offer you, but it seems all I have at the moment are two of JT’s favorites, grape juice or milk. Take your pick.”
She laughed. “Gosh, tough decision. I’ll choose milk.”
“Milk it is.” He pulled out the container and filled up a large glass, setting it in front of her. “The pasta should be done in a few minutes. At least I have home-made garlic bread.”
The butter and garlic scent was already filling the kitchen, mingling with the zesty spaghetti sauce. “Smells delicious. I had no idea you could cook.”
“Pure necessity for two bachelors living on their own.” Gabe stirred the sauce and then pulled out two plates. He dished out the pasta and sauce, adding a large chunk of fresh garlic bread to each serving.
Her mouth was watering as he set down her plate and then sat across from her. He lifted his milk glass and touched the rim to hers in a quick toast. “Thanks, Holly. I appreciate you coming to my rescue.”
She rolled her eyes in exasperation before taking a sip of her milk, suddenly glad they weren’t drinking anything stronger. The last time she’d shared a few drinks with Gabe she’d foolishly attempted to kiss him. “You and JT would have been fine. The worst thing that might have happened is that you’d have taken JT to the clinic for nothing more than a virus.”
“Maybe,” he conceded, his gaze holding hers. “But it was still nice to have someone else to talk to.”
The poignant sadness lurking in his eyes made her wonder if Gabe was still in love with JT’s mother. He’d claimed he wasn’t married, but did that mean they were divorced? Or was he a widower of only a month? If so, all the more reason to keep her distance from him emotionally. Gabe was in no position to start a relationship, even if she was willing to risk one.
Which she wasn’t.
“Eat,” he urged.
The sooner she ate, the sooner she could leave. She dug in, nearly closing her eyes in ecstasy when the taste of the tangy tomato sauce exploded in her mouth. “Mmm. This is divine.”
“Glad you like it.” Gabe grinned, and instantly the flash of sorrow was gone. “It’s an old family recipe from my mother’s side. She’s a great Italian cook.”
She widened her eyes in surprise. “I didn’t know your mother was Italian.”
“Absolutely.” Gabe gestured with his fork. “Her maiden name is Fanelli. She’s living with her new husband down in Florida.”
“And your dad?” she asked, before she could think.
His expression closed. “He’s been out of the picture for a long time.”
“I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand, realizing she’d touched a nerve. Yet it was a bit surprising to realize she and Gabe had something in common. Apparently neither of them had been close to their fathers.
He held her hand in his for a long minute. Her heart thudded in her chest as the light-hearted mood turned into something more serious.
“Uncle Gabe?” JT’s plaintive cry broke the moment. “My tummy hurts.”
“Uh-oh, maybe he’s going to throw up.” Gabe jumped up from his seat at the table. “I’ll be right back.”
Confused, she sat back in her seat, staring after Gabe as he disappeared down the hall to JT’s room.
Uncle Gabe? She’d assumed JT must be his son, but obviously the boy was really his nephew. Still, he was caring for JT, so he must have custody. She knew she should admire the close bond they shared, but couldn’t help feeling resentful.
Somehow it didn’t seem fair, that Gabe had the joy of love and caring for JT while she’d lost her daughter.
Gabe sat beside JT but the boy didn’t vomit. The bed was damp, though, so he helped JT change his pajamas and then stripped the sheets off the bed, replacing them with a spare set from the hallway closet.
“Hey, buddy, maybe you should try to eat. Your tummy might hurt because you’re hungry.” Gabe tried not to wince at the mountain of laundry growing larger by the minute. It seemed as if he had constantly been doing laundry since JT had moved in. Not that he was complaining, but in the battle between him and the washing-machine, he rarely emerged the winner. “I can make you some chicken noodle soup, your favorite.”
“No, I don’t think so.” JT scrunched down into the covers, blinking owlishly against the light. “Is the pretty lady still here?”
“Dr. Holly?” Unable to squelch a flash of guilt, he settled on the edge of JT’s bed. Since taking custody of his nephew, Gabe had never invited a woman over. Until now. Logically, he knew JT was too young to understand the potential implications, but he intended to set a good example for the boy, anyway. “Yes, she’s still here. Why, did you want to ask her something? Does your throat hurt now?”
“No.” JT shook his head. “But I like her. She seems nice.”
“She is nice.” Oh, boy. They were treading on dangerous ground here. Gabe tried to think of a way to prevent JT from getting the wrong idea. “She’s a good doctor. She often takes care of sick kids, just like you.”
“Oh.”