Perfect Fit - Brenda Jackson [39]
“I met some of the members of your construction team this week and was surprised to discover some of them brought their families with them,” Sage said, meeting Gabe’s gaze.
He grinned. “Yes. Although it was their decision to make, Chris and I recommended that they do that.”
Sage arched a brow. “Why?”
“Because the majority of the men are married and between the ages of twenty-five and forty. A year is a long time for them to be away from the women they love.” Gabe’s smile widened. “Statistics have shown that you can get more work out of a happy, satisfied man.”
He gently rubbed his smooth-shaven chin as he gazed thoughtfully at her. “I guess the same would hold true for a woman.”
She met his gaze before taking a sip of her wine. “I wouldn’t know.”
An invisible red flag suddenly went up in Gabe’s mind when he saw the despairing look that appeared in her eyes. Although the subject hadn’t come up, he had a feeling the reason she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring had nothing to do with the size of it no longer being a fit. Evidently, there had been, or presently was, trouble in paradise. He decided not to play games and to just go ahead and cross the boundaries of what was considered proper by asking the question that had been on his mind all evening.
“And your fiancé?” he inquired quietly, watching the play of emotions that lit into her face—hurt and pain, another telltale sign which caused another red flag to go up.
Several long moments passed before she responded. “I’m no longer engaged.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, with all sincerity, thinking he was really damn sorry and was thinking that for whatever the reason, and without even knowing the details of what happened, her fiancé was a fool for losing her.
Sage shrugged lightly, remembering what Erol had done and how she was still trying to recover financially. “Don’t be sorry.”
He smiled. “All right. Then, I won’t.”
She smiled back and went one step further when her mouth tipped up into a dignified chuckle. “Are you always this agreeable?”
He raised his chin and looked at her, suddenly thinking that yes, with her he could always be this agreeable. Another red flag went up. “No, not always. I guess tonight it’s the mood.”
She tilted her head and raised a brow inquiringly. “And what mood is that?”
“The mood to not disagree.”
Sage laughed then, actually laughed, and realized just how long it had been since she’d done that. “Thanks,” she said, her amusement subsiding.
Gabe arched a brow, knowing what she meant but deciding to pretend not to. “For dinner?”
She smiled. “Yes, that, too. But mainly for making me laugh. I’m surprised that I still know how to.”
He lifted a brow. “It’s been that long?”
She took a slow sip of wine before saying, “Yes, nearly four months.”
Gabe nodded. Whatever had happened between her and her fiancé had taken place not long after he’d last seen her. And whatever had happened had left a look of distrust and sadness in her eyes. “Well, I’m just going to have to make it my business to see that you have a reason to laugh more.”
She looked away, and he could feel her backing off, slowly easing some distance between them. “Don’t bother because it’s easier said than done.”
A part of Gabe began questioning his sanity. The signs were all there; the red flags had gone up, all three of them. For whatever reason, the confident, self-assured woman he’d met four months ago now had problems, issues, was on the rebound. She was the last type of woman he needed to be interested in.
At the first sign, the raising of the first red flag, he should have brought the evening to a close, an end, zilch. Yet he was