The Rebound Pact by Eliza Knight

her father and brother. Something they hadn’t done since Mom died. They’d been a tight-knit family—the sudden tragedy putting a rift between them all, that she hoped to repair now.
    He r father glanced toward the fireplace mantle where a picture of her mother sat. “Your mother loved Holden’s winery. We went every Friday night.”
    Gabrielle walked into the room and bent down to give her dad a hug. “I’m sorry, Dad.” Tears stung the back of her eyes. Seeing her dad’s pain tore at her heartstrings.
    “You don’t have to be sorry, Gabrielle. You loved her too. I’m sorry. I should have told her to go to the doctor.”
    Gabrielle pulled back. “It’s not your fault, you know that. There was no way for you to know.”
    He frowned. “Looking back, I think there were signs. Abdominal pains, feeling full all the time. She just thought it was her belly acting up.” He glanced down at Gabrielle, squeezed here hand. “I guess we all have our regrets. I’m glad you’re home, for however long you want to be.”
    “Me too.” She stared for a moment longer at the smiling face of her mother, then curled up next to her father, pretending to read the paper, when really she just wanted to be near him a little longer.
     

     
    Holden sat at his island counter, finishing off a bottle of cab-sauv and gazing up at the sheer black thong dangling from his pots.
    Hot damn…
    Gabrielle continued to amaze him, to shock him, to give him a raging hard-on. He frowned and drank down half his glass in one gulp, feeling the burn of the wine as it slid down his throat.
    When Max had said those things years before, it had been hard. Damn hard. But he’d backed off, never mentioned it again. Accepted that he wasn’t good enough. Until the night she’d crawled into bed with him. He’d felt like a slime ball afterwards, betraying Max’s trust. Taking advantage of her warm and willing body. He’d known it was her from the first touch. But his feelings for her had never waned and he wanted so badly to think she wanted him as much as he’d wanted her. Then she’d shafted him. Made him feel like a total jackass.
    And still, the next morning when he found out she’d left the country he wanted to chase her across the Atlantic and pour out his heart.
    But he hadn’t. He’d moved on instead.
    Met up with Lacy—a lot of good that did him.
    Holden was no good with women. A disaster. Not relationship material. Evidence proved he couldn’t seem to keep them around. And now he’d gone and betrayed his best friend’s trust again. Shit, Max had come and warned him off not an hour before he fucked Gabrielle in the same spot.
    Finishing off another glass—he’d lost count of how many—and rather than pouring another, he just grabbed a new bottle. He hoped The Post didn’t have any reporters peeping in his windows. It wouldn’t do for a wine connoisseur to be seen drinking from the bottle. Holden laughed, then flicked off the window and chugged. How very uncouth of him.
    The house felt especially empty tonight as h e walked through it, staring at the note-worthy artwork, the fine lines of the structure he’d seen implemented, the various expensive furnishings. Holden kicked off his shoes, bounced around on one foot and then another as he tried to keep hold of his wine bottle as he removed his socks. His bare toes sunk into the plush carpeting on his stairs before hitting hard wood again in the hallway. Finally he ended up in his bedroom, set the bottle on his nightstand and fell onto the bed. He lay there for a minute, before digging his cell from his pocket, and skimming through his contacts until Max’s number popped up.
    He hit the call button. Dammit, Gabrielle had said Max was sleeping off his jet-lag. And what would he say anyway? Quickly, he hung up after the first ring. He sure as hell wasn’t about to confess to fucking his best friend’s sister twice. The man would hop into his car without a second thought to kick his