His Unlikely Lover (Unwanted #3) by Natasha Anders

forgotten to make reservations at the fancy Italian restaurant his wife had been hinting at for weeks before the big day and had made it up to her by microwaving a pizza and serving it with boxed wine. Needless to say he had slept on the couch that night—a fact that he had lamented over for days afterward. He still couldn’t understand his wife’s “unreasonable” reaction when he had gone all out to serve it with paper napkins and a couple of scented candles. He’d even used paper plates so that she wouldn’t have to worry about washing up.
    “Anyway there’s no old or current guy either, so let’s just drop this ridiculous subject and get back to work.” He shrugged and did as he was told. Bobbi watched him leave and was tempted to call Kyle and take him up on that drinks date.

    Gabe was restless . . .
    There was no other word to describe the way he felt. He couldn’t settle down. The house just seemed empty and huge. It was the first time he’d ever felt that way about his home. While he co-owned the house with Chase, his brother also owned an apartment in Camps Bay and often stayed there when he was in the country. Of course, he had a housecleaning staff, but none of them lived on the premises.
    Gabe hadn’t shared the house with anybody in years and he was usually content with the peace and quiet. Tonight though, his excess energy was driving him crazy. He had contacted a couple of the women in his so-called “black” book (it was in fact just a folder on his phone) but in the end hadn’t been able to summon up the energy or inclination to arrange a date with any of them. He had ended the calls with vague promises to contact them again “sometime” and now found that he was unable to concentrate on anything.
    He glanced at the clock—it was just after eight—and decided to head out to Manny’s for a couple of drinks. A few of games of darts, entertaining company, harmless flirting . . . just what the doctor ordered.
    So he was more than a little confused when he found himself ringing the Richmond doorbell less than fifteen minutes later. There was no answer at first so he depressed the button again and listened to the deep bingbong echo through the house. He was about to ring it for a third time when the door was jerked open by a frazzled looking Mike Richmond. The tall man glared at Gabe over the rims of his glasses for a few moments before stepping aside and allowing him in. He didn’t say anything, merely led the way to the den. The room reeked of cigar smoke—it was the only room where he was allowed to indulge in his habit—and there was a movie paused on the big screen smart TV.
    Eyeing the older man once more, he saw that Mike was wearing a handsome smoking jacket—a prank gift from Bobbi—and a pair of comfortable slacks. He appeared to be having a relaxing evening in his man cave. Mike Richmond rarely relaxed, so Gabe felt a bit guilty for disturbing him.
    “Something wrong, Gabriel?” the older man asked, refilling a Waterford crystal whiskey glass and lifting the matching decanter questioningly. Gabe nodded and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. He usually changed into less-restrictive clothing after coming from the office but he was still wearing his crisp shirt and suit trousers—at least he’d lost the tie and jacket somewhere along the way.
    He took the filled whiskey glass from Mike, unbuttoning his cuff at the same time and rolling the sleeve up to his elbow before switching the glass to the other hand and doing the same with the opposite cuff. Mike had dropped down into his easy chair again and was watching him with those astute amber eyes that rarely missed much. Gabe avoided his scrutiny and sat down opposite him, taking a sip of the Glenlivet and leaning back on the leather recliner with a slight sigh.
    “Well?” Mike prompted after a long silence, taking a puff from his cigar.
    “Can I have one of those?” Gabe asked, and Mike waved the blunt cigar