Once Upon a Bride

“I was only—”

“I know what you’re doing,” Lauren said, smiling. “Now, let’s get the store open.”

* * *

By the time Gabe returned home that afternoon, he was short on patience and more than happy to hand Jed over to his neighbor. Damned dog had chewed his car keys, his sneakers and escaped twice through the automatic doors at the clubhouse.

When he pulled into the driveway, he spotted the fencing contractor he’d called earlier that day parked across the lawn. He locked Jed in Lauren’s front garden and headed back to his own yard. He was twenty minutes into his meeting with the contractor when she arrived home. Gabe was in the front yard with the tradesman, talking prices and time frames, as the older man began pushing at the low timber fence that separated the two allotments and then wrote in a notepad.

She walked around the hedge and met him by the letterbox, eyeing the contractor’s battered truck suspiciously. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking all business in her black skirt and white blouse.

“A new fence,” Gabe supplied and watched her curiosity quickly turn into a frown.

“I wasn’t aware we needed a new one.”

“This one’s falling down,” he said, and introduced her to the contractor before the other man waved his notepad and said he’d get back to him tomorrow.

Once the battered truck was reversing from the yard, she clamped her hands to her hips. “Shouldn’t we have discussed it first?”

“It’s only an estimate,” he told her. “Nothing’s decided yet.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Really?”

“Really,” he assured her. “Although the fence does need replacing.”

Her eyes flashed. “I know it’s my responsibility to pay for half of any fence that’s built, but at the moment I’m—”

Gabe shook his head. “I intend to pay for the fence, should it come to that.”

She glared at him, then the fence, then back to him. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” she snapped, still glaring.

He looked at her, bemused by her sudden annoyance. “I don’t?”

“It’s my fence, too.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I was only—”

“Taking over? And probably thinking I couldn’t possibly afford it and then feeling sorry for me, right?”

He had a whole lot of feelings churning through his blood when it came to Lauren Jakowski...pity definitely wasn’t one of them. “Just being neighborly,” he said, and figured he shouldn’t smile, even though he wanted to. “But hey, if you want to pay for half the fence, go ahead.”

“I will,” she replied through tight lips. “Just let me know how much and when.”

“Of course,” he said.

She huffed a little. “Good. And have you been messing around with my gate?”

Ah. So the real reason why she looked like she wanted to slug him. “Yes, I fixed your gate this morning.”

“Because?”

“Because it was broken,” he replied, watching her temper flare as the seconds ticked by. And broken things should be fixed. He’d spent most of his adult life fixing things. Fixing people. But she didn’t know that. And he wasn’t about to tell her. “No point risking more splinters.”

“I liked my gate how it was,” she said, hands still on hips.

Gabe raised a brow. “Really?”

She scowled. “Really.”

“You’re mad at me because I repaired your gate?”

“I’m mad at you because it wasn’t your gate to repair. I don’t need anyone to fix things. I don’t need a white knight, okay?”

A white knight? Yeah, right. But there was an edge of vulnerability in her voice that stopped him from smiling. Was she broken? Was that part of what drew him to her? Like meets like? He knew she was divorced, and at her brother’s wedding she’d admitted her marriage hadn’t been a happy one. But Gabe didn’t want to speculate. And he didn’t want to ask. The less he knew, the better.

“Okay,” he said simply.

For a moment, he thought she might argue some more. Instead, she dropped her gaze and asked an obvious question. “What happened to your shoe?”

He glanced down. The back of his left sneaker was torn and the lace was missing. “Jed.”

She looked up again, and he saw her mouth curve. “Was that the only damage?”

“Other than chewing my car keys and making a run for it whenever he got the chance.”

She moaned softly. “Sorry about that. I’ll get Cameron to replace them when he gets back.”

Gabe shrugged. “No need. It’s only a shoe.”

She nodded, turned and walked back around the hedge. Gabe shook his shoulders and made a concerted effort to forget all about her.

And failed.

* * *

I really need to stop reacting like that.

Lauren was still thinking it forty minutes later when she emerged from the shower and pulled on frayed gray sweats. Her reaction, or rather her overreaction, to Gabe’s news about the fence was amplified by his interference with her gate.

She didn’t want him fixing things.

Lauren didn’t want any man fixing things.

It was a road she’d traveled before. She knew what she wanted and white knights need not apply. Her ex-husband had tried to fix things—to fix her—and it had ended in disaster.

James Wallace had ridden into her life in his carpenter’s truck, all charm and good looks. He’d arrived at The Wedding House to make repairs to the changing rooms, and she’d been unexpectedly drawn to his blatant flirting. An hour later, she’d accepted his invitation to go out with him that night. They ended up at a local bistro for drinks and then dinner, and by midnight he’d kissed her in the car park, and she was halfway in lust with him.

Three months later, she had a fairy-tale wedding.