See Jane Love - By Debby Conrad Page 0,3

Gabe came. It was as if he were someone special, thus the reason for the crystal and china. Not that he would probably even notice. The only things he seemed to notice were women’s breasts and legs. Over the years, she’d caught him staring at hers plenty. Not that she had much in the breast department, and not that her legs were long, because they weren’t. Shapely, yes, but not long. Still, he seemed to enjoy looking. And those looks had sent more than one tingle up her spine, too.

In fact, she got another tingle just thinking about him.

It was funny how she’d forgotten about him when she was thinking about candidates. But, wait a minute. Gabe Montero? No way, Jose.

She almost laughed as she spread the silverware around the gold-trimmed, white, china plates. Forks on the left, knives and spoons on the right. Sara was a perfectionist and would probably make her do it over if she messed up.

“Hi, Aunt Janie. Can I help?” Livvy asked with wide green eyes and a smile. Her auburn curls were pulled into two pigtails, and her tiny turned-up nose had just a faint dusting of freckles across it. Livvy had gotten the Callahan looks, while her brother Travis was a clone of his father. Alex was tall, dark and gorgeous. But more importantly, he was also a great guy. Sara and the kids sure were lucky.

“Sure, sweetie. Wine glasses on the right, bread plates on the left,” she said, and Livvy nodded. Or was it the other way around? Oh, what did it matter? As long as everyone had what they needed, it would be okay. Besides, most people grabbed the wrong glass and plate anyway. At least, she always did. Carefully, she handed a piece of stemware to her niece and gave the child a thumbs-up when she set it in the right place.

When they were done, Janie gave Livvy a hug and thanked her for helping. Then the child ran off to see if her mother needed any help in the kitchen. Stepping back to admire their handiwork, Janie smiled satisfactorily just as the doorbell rang. Everything looked perfect against the blue, linen tablecloth. Maybe she wasn’t as lacking in the domestication department as she’d thought. Perhaps there was hope for her, after all. Not that setting a table was any great feat. But still, it was a start.

“Uncle Gabe is here,” she heard Travis yell a few moments later. And then the house was a mass of noise and confusion for several minutes as Alex, Sara and the kids greeted the man. From the sound of things, he’d brought presents for the kids. No big surprise there. She gave her eyes a roll, but was determined not to let Gabe bother her, even though she heard the kids squealing with excitement. Maybe she’d go shopping for them tomorrow and bring them back something more exciting than whatever he’d brought.

Deciding to stay out of sight, she slipped back into the kitchen. She was in no hurry to see the guest of honor. Why should she be? In the ten years Alex and Sara had been married, she’d only seen him a handful of times. She barely knew him, other than the things Sara had told her about him.

But there was one thing she knew for sure. Gabe Montero had a way of looking at her that made her feel sexy. And not just a little sexy, but wildly sexy.

Maybe she should reconsider having an affair with him, she thought, reaching for a carrot stick. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about falling in love with him. Other than his dark and dangerous good looks, he wasn’t her type. She could simply walk away afterward with her feelings and emotions intact. Piece of cake.

Oh, who the heck was she kidding? All this talk about having a wild, passionate, meaningless affair . . . But did she really have the nerve to do it?

“Probably not,” she mumbled under her breath, feeling angry that Sara was right about her. She was too nice a girl to hop into bed with a stranger. Damn, and she’d actually been looking forward to it.

Why was it that some women can do it with any Tom, Dick or Gabe--I mean Harry--and not feel guilty about it? And then there’s me. She sighed. She’d dated both Frank and Justin for over a year before she’d slept with them. Then, once she had, she’d wondered why she’d even