The Organized Bride (Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book 2) by Lucy McConnell

didn’t work out between the two of them, then he’d be right back where he started. Nope, he needed to tamp down any thoughts about MaKayla that didn’t include work.
    A couple hours later, Gabe was disheartened to see MaKayla drag herself onto the stool next to him and lay her head on the bar. She was beat. This week couldn’t get over fast enough. He quickly paid for the soda he’d nursed, leaving another generous tip for Brian, who was working toward a master’s degree in business.
    Before he left, he handed Brian his card. “Give me a call when you graduate.”
    “I will; thanks, man.”
    MaKayla could barely hold herself up.
    Gabe slipped his arm around her—only for support, not because he liked having her close—and she leaned into him. She fit perfectly into the space next to his body, and he had to remind himself that being attracted to MaKayla and acting on that attraction were two different things. The fact that she accepted his help was a testament to how horrible she felt. “Rough night?” he asked.
    “Uh-huh. There was a fire.”
    Gabe raised his eyebrows. “Like a ‘this guy jumped on a table and made a scene fire,’ or a fire fire?”
    “Fire fire.”
    “What happened?”
    “A server was in a rush and knocked over one of the serving stands, the things on wheels. There was a candle under the serving dish and it sparked a grease fire as the sauce splashed all over.”
    “What did you do?”
    “The cook put out the flames with baking soda. I rearranged the serving order, redefined portion sizes to make up for the lost food, and helped clean up the mess.”
    “And you used your last bit of strength.”
    Yawning, MaKayla nodded.
    Gabe helped her into the car and climbed in. Resisting the urge to take her hand, he kept both hands glued to the wheel. He’d promised himself that he was going to keep those boundaries and he would do it if it killed him—which it just might.
    By the time he pulled up to MaKayla’s, his fingers ached from gripping the wheel. Once again, he relegated himself to waiting at the curb to make sure she got safely inside. Just one more night, he told himself, one more night and he’d be able to take her home and take care of her. Oh, he wouldn’t go into her room, he would refrain from going there, but he could at least make sure she was settled in the house. That was the polite thing to do; after all, she would be his guest, and as a good host he would ensure her comfort. That’s all he was planning to do, be a good host. Yep, he’d be the best host there ever was.

 
 
    Chapter 12
     
     
     
    For MaKayla, Friday went much the same as Thursday, except she started her day at Gabe’s office and spent her afternoon at the hotel. Once again, Gabe met her in the lobby, made her tea, handed her pain pills, and walked her to her office.
    As she was straightening up her files so she could head to the hotel, Gabe came in and dropped a white lunch sack on her desk. “You can eat it in the car on the way over.”
    “Smells good.”
    The worry lines on Gabe’s forehead evaporated. “If you can smell it, then you must be getting better.”
    Those lines had been there the whole week, and she’d thought they were a permanent fixture. It hadn’t occurred to her that he worried that much over her well-being. She couldn’t pin this guy down. One minute he was hovering over her, and the next he was handing her his credit card and an expense account. They shared a few laughs but didn’t share anything personal. The whole situation had her second-guessing herself. Part of the problem was the way her pulse spiked when Gabe entered the room. She didn’t know if she should hold his hand or hand him receipts.
    Another puzzler was Gabe’s almost fanatical and fastidious devotion to charity work. Rob had explained that Gabe leveraged as much of the company profits as possible into charities to offset taxes. It was a huge win-win as far as MaKayla was concerned, but there was