Finding Abigail

by Christina Smith

  He leaned into me. His body was warm and I felt the urge to curl up against it. Who needed to eat, let’s just jump to dessert.

  He pulled away first. “As much as I hate to stop you, the door is open, and I really don’t want to burn dinner.”

  Just as he mentioned the food, I smelled a delicious aroma wafting in the air. I stepped away from him and glanced around. I heard the door close behind me.

  The apartment was all open concept, with the living room at the back, the kitchen to my left, and I was standing in the dining room. The table was set with matching plates and candles. My heart swelled at the sight of a bouquet of roses that sat in the center. I loved flowers. My thoughts briefly went to my parents, but I quickly pushed them away. Tonight was not the time to think of them. Talk about a mood killer. The soft music floated out of the speakers—the atmosphere was very romantic. “I like your place.”

  He stepped around me to slip into the kitchen and opened the oven, pulling out three small roasting pans. “Have a seat, there’s sparkling wine on the table. It won’t take long to plate these.”

  Doing as he instructed, I sat down on the wooden chair, noticing that one of the rungs on the back was loose. “It smells so good, Nick. What are we having?”

  As he lifted food from the pans onto plates, he replied, “Rack of lamb, roasted red potatoes, and mini glazed carrots.”

  Wow. “That’s sounds amazing. Did you order it in, and then just put the food in casserole dishes before I got here?” I asked, smiling, hoping he heard the teasing in my voice.

  He narrowed his eyes as he finished the second plate, and then sauntered toward the table, placing a dish in front of me. “I thought of that.” His lip twitched. “But I wanted to impress you, so I begged my mother to show me how to make this.”

  A warm fuzzy feeling flowed through me at the thought of him going to so much trouble. “That’s so sweet, but you really didn’t have to do all this.”

  He stepped back, placing the remaining plate on the table. “I wanted to.” He leaned over me, his face inches from mine. “You’re worth the effort, Abby.” His voice was a whisper as he leaned in to kiss me. His hands moved up and down my side, creating a warm glow. The kiss didn’t last long before he stood up and grinned. “The food is getting cold and I worked way too hard to let it go to waste.” He took his seat across from me and we began to eat.

  The meal was really good. The meat was juicy, potatoes were flavorful, and carrots sweet. “That was amazing,” I said, pushing my plate away after taking the last bite.

  He grinned, taking a sip of his wine. Once he swallowed he replied, “I’m glad you enjoyed it, because it will never happen again.” He winked. “Of course, if you want a grilled cheese sandwich or mac-and-cheese from a box, I’m your guy.”

  I laughed, reaching for my wine glass, and took a drink. The bubbles danced on my tongue, adding to the giddiness I already felt.

  We cleaned up the table and then the dishes. When the kitchen was spotless, we moved to the living room, to relax on the couch with another glass of wine.

  “By the way, those roses are for you.” he said, gesturing to the bouquet on the table. “I was too preoccupied by how good you looked to tell you when you first got here.”

  Again, I was flustered by his words. Would I ever get used to his sweet compliments? “Thank you.”

  The music changed to a slow one, a soft guitar with horn. Nick stood up and held out his hand. I took it and let him pull me against him. We moved slowly, his warmth seeping into me, spreading heat through my body. I tightened my grip on him, leaning my head on his shoulder. His musky scent hovered in the air, making me lightheaded. I could hear his breathing go from steady to ragged. His hands gripped the back of my top, forcing me closer, almost molding me to his body.

  When I felt him kiss the top of my head, I looked up at him. His eyes were stormy seas. “I want you, Abby,” he whispered.

  And honestly, I felt the same way. I hadn’t wanted anything as much as I did him, at that moment. Something about him stoked the fires within me. I had never felt so alive. My body was like a live wire, ready to spark. All I could do was nod. But it didn’t matter; speech was not necessary.

  He pulled me into his room, and with one quick move he removed my top. I didn’t have time to feel vulnerable or nervous standing in front of him, with only my silk bra. His lips were on my neck, collar bone, my ear lobe, making my skin hum. His hands roamed my back as his lips worked their magic. It had been so long since I’d been touched this way, my insides came alive.

  I moaned as the sensations overtook me, and I couldn’t just stand there, I needed to touch. I pulled back and lifted his shirt off, ran my hands along his skin, his chest hair making my skin tingle. His moan was deep, almost a growl, as my hands moved down. He drew back, taking off his pants and then mine. His eyes were smoldering, his expression anxious. He rushed, tossing clothes onto the floor, and then guided me down onto the bed.

  Afterward, I lay in his arms, feeling content and happy as he rubbed circles over my shoulder; his soft touch was so soothing that I felt myself drift off to sleep.

  Something pulled me awake. I opened my eyes and glanced around. The room was dark and unfamiliar, until the memory of my night with Nick came back to me. I smiled and started to close my eyes again, when I felt movement behind me. I turned around to see that Nick was leaning up on his elbow staring at me. “What are you doing?” I asked. My voice was raspy.

  “Watching you sleep.”

  I blinked a few times. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Because you’re beautiful.” Was that really a reason?

  I was still so sleepy, and not exactly fully awake, I felt my heavy eyelids close. Just as I was drifting off again, I heard him say, “You’re mine, Abby.”

  My sleepy brain couldn’t decide if that was sweet or incredibly creepy.

  The smell of bacon woke me, and I sat up looking around Nick’s room. It was relatively neat; the only thing out of place was our clothes that we had thrown on the floor last night. There were a few trophies on a shelf, two books, and one picture of an older couple that must be his parents. His room was a little on the bare side. There was nothing in particular that expressed who he was, unless this was it. I shook off that thought. I knew there was more to him. He had layers. I just had to find them all.

  The navy blue curtains were open exposing a dull, gray day. I stared out the window at the dark clouds. It wasn’t raining yet, but it would be before long. Our brief relief from the wet weather was obviously over.

  I heard movement outside the door and turned to see him walk through it with a tray of food. He was bringing me breakfast in bed. Ahh...how sweet.

  “I hope you like bacon and cheese omelets?”

  “Doesn’t bacon make everything better?” I asked with a grin as I slipped my shirt over my head and stuffed my arms through it. I had felt exposed without it.

  His eyes narrowed. “A girl after my heart,” he said as he sat the tray over my lap and climbed in beside me. He leaned over to give me a quick kiss. “Let’s dig in, because I have plans for you after.” He wiggled his eyes suggestively.

  Laughing, I picked up my fork and did what he said—dug in.

  After a few bites, I stretched out against the pillow I had turned up against the headboard. “I’m not sure I believe that you’re not a good cook. Everything I’ve tasted so far is quite tasty.”

  He grinned. “Breakfast is easy.”

  I stabbed another bite of the omelet. The orange cheese strung from the plate to the fork. “If you say so.” I took the bite and swallowed.

  “What are your plans today?” he asked, taking a drink of orange juice.

  Was he about to ask me to leave? Tell me he had to work? I was so comfortable I didn’t want to go yet. All I wanted to do right now was finish my breakfast and curl up on his comfy bed and relax. “Not much. If I have time I might finish off the first Little Miss book.

  “I don
’t work until three.” He tilted his head and winked. “Do you want to stick around here for a while?”

  I wanted nothing more, but I didn’t want to show my excitement. “Sure, sounds good.”

  He finished off his omelet in maybe three bites and then placed the empty plate on his nightstand. “You were amazing last night.”

  I choked on the food in my mouth. “Are you fishing for a compliment?” I asked once I was able to swallow.

  “No, I’ m telling you how much I enjoyed myself.” He bent down to nuzzle my neck. “And I’m ready for more.” he whispered.

  “I’m not finished with breakfast,” I gasped.

  His lips moved over my skin softly. “You are now.” He grabbed my plate and tossed it onto his. The dishes made a clanging sound, and the silverware thumped onto the wood floor.

  We spent the morning and early afternoon in bed, exploring each other, sleeping, and talking. It was so amazing; I didn’t want it to end.

  Chapter Nine

  Family

  The next couple of months were wonderful. Nick and I spent every day we were free together. I wasn’t working on my writing as much as I usually did, but that was okay. I had finished the Little Miss series, and Debbie was in the process of getting them published. The next book could wait awhile. I had never taken time off before, so it was time. Nick took me out at least once a week, and on the nights he was off work, we’d spend the evenings curled up on the sofa at my apartment, watching a movie or some sports game that was playing.

  Two months after we first met, Nick invited me to his parents’ for dinner. At first, I rejected the idea. I was nervous, and it didn’t help that Rob and Heather would be there. For some reason she still acted distant around me. But after a lot of persuasion, Nick finally talked me into it.

  His parents lived in an older middle-class neighborhood. The houses were a little faded, but most were a good size. The neighborhood reminded me slightly of my mother’s, where I had grown up, only this area seemed to be lacking the abundance of children. Where my old neighborhood held a park in the center that was usually crawling with kids, here, I only spotted a few on the front lawns of houses.

  Nick pulled into the driveway of a red brick two-story with a white porch in front. We both got out of the car and walked up the steps. Bobby was sprawled out on a swing, playing a pink Nintendo-DS. “Hey, champ. How were the playoffs?” Nick asked, ruffling the top of her hair with his hand.

  “We won,” she mumbled, not looking up from her game. Nick glanced at me and laughed. Taking my hand, he pulled me into the house. The smell of garlic and tomatoes assaulted my senses.

  To the right was the living room where the sound of a basketball game playing on the TV was mixed with the jumbled voices of men arguing. He pulled me past the door into the kitchen, where an older woman with thick, black, curly hair was leaning over a pot, tasting what looked and smelled like tomato sauce. She was wearing a flowered silk blouse and navy-blue skirt. She was a smidge on the pudgy size, but if they ate food that smelled as good as the sauce she was stirring every day, I understood why. “Hey, Mom,” Nick called, walking over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

  The corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled, and her cheeks were flushed from the steam floating out of the pot. I was suddenly wrapped into a very tight hug; she smelled of baby powder. After a kiss on my cheek she pulled back. “I am so happy to finally meet the girl who has made my boy so happy.”

  Nick chuckled. “Mom, this is Abby. Abby, this is my mother, Sofia.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said, taking a step back. “Thank you for inviting me to your home. Dinner smells wonderful. Nick said you were an amazing cook.” I was prepared for another bear hug. But it didn’t come; instead, she touched my cheek.

  “Thank you. I’m so glad you could make it.” She turned to Nick, letting me go. “I made manicotti, your favorite.”

  His face lit up. “With cheesy garlic bread?”

  “Of course. Now get out of my kitchen so I can finish. Tina and Paul are late again, but Robert and Heather are in the living room with your father.” Just as Nick started for the doorway, Sofia smacked his shoulder. “Get your girl a glass of wine first.” She winked at me before turning back to the stove.

  Nick sidestepped to the fridge and pulled out a beer for himself and a bottle of white wine for me. Once he poured some into a glass, he handed it to me and then led me into the living room.

  “I told you the Lakers would take it tonight!” Rob yelled at a man that must be his father.

  Their father’s dark brown hair held a touch of gray around the sideburns. His face was wrinkled and his chocolate brown eyes narrowed at his son as he reached into his back pocket and then slapped a twenty into Rob’s waiting hand. “This is the thanks I get for putting a roof over your head until you were twenty-two years old,” he growled at his son.

  Rob took the money with a smile and slid it into the front of his jeans. He glanced up and saw us as we stepped into the room. “Hey, Nick, it’s about time you got here. Dad’s about to disown me for taking all his money.” He stood up, turning to me. “Abby, you look great. Thank God you’re still taking pity on my brother. I was getting tired of seeing him so lonely.”

  Nick punched him in the gut and was about to pull his head into a headlock when their father yelled, “Will you two knock it off. This lovely young lady will think I raised a couple of animals.” He stood up and took my hand, pulling it up to his lips to kiss my fingers. “You must be Abby. I’m this loudmouth’s father, Carlo.” He dropped my hand and gestured to Nick.

  “Back off, Dad, she’s mine and you’re too old,” Nick teased, taking a seat onto the plush burgundy sofa and patting the cushion next to him for me to sit down.

  Carlo settled back into his Barcalounger facing the large TV. “So Rob, how’s the Brown case coming? Any leads?”

  Rob started to go into detail about a murder case he was working on, leaving out names. Nick and his dad, who was captain at Rob’s precinct, tossed around ideas.

  I turned to Heather, who was extremely quiet, sitting across from me knitting. “That’s pretty. Is it going to be a sweater?” I asked about the small pink knitted garment. Just the bottom was finished.

  “Yes, my sister is pregnant. It’s a girl.” Even though she barely smiled when I saw her, the mention of her sister and future niece brought a light to her eyes.

  I leaned over to touch the soft yarn. “It’s so soft. My niece had a sweater this color with a matching bonnet. My mother made it.”

  She nodded and stopped knitting, laying the full needles in her lap. “The bonnet is finished, and I’ll be done with this in a couple of days. She’s due next week.” I could see how much her sister meant to her.

  “That’s nice. Is this her first baby?”

  She smiled. “Yes. She just got married a year ago. She’s the baby in the family.” Her face darkened as she shot a quick glance to her husband. “But I don’t see her that much anymore.” She returned to her knitting, looking away from me down at the needles.

  I felt a change in her like the flip of a switch, and wondered if I’d ever be able to figure her out. “She means a lot to you, I can tell. And I understand, my sister is one of my best friends.”

  The men’s voices got louder as they stopped talking about work and focused on the game again. Heather winced as Rob yelled at the ref, who apparently didn’t know a good play from his ass. I tried to start up a conversation with her again, but I could tell her good mood toward me was over. She was back to the quiet, distant girl I had gotten to know the few times we doubled over the last few months.

  I stood up, taking a few steps toward the kitchen. Nick grabbed my hand, stopping me mid-step. “Where are you going?”

  His question surprised me; where did he think I was going? “I’m going to see if your mother would like some help in the kitchen.” He smiled as I continued out the door.

  She was humming to a classical song
that was playing quietly on the radio. “Would you like some help in here? Basketball doesn’t really appeal to me.”

  She spun around, her round face lighting up as she smiled. “I feel the same way, but I think I have it all under control. Unless you’d like to set the table. Everything’s out there in the dining room.” She layered the garlic bread onto a plate. “Tina should be along in a minute. She called, Hannah just woke up from her nap. Have you met Tina yet?”

  “No. We were supposed to go out to dinner with them last week, but Nick got a break in the case he was working on and had to cancel.”

  “Ah…yes, things don’t always go as planned when you’re with a policeman. But you accept it since its important work.”

  “Speaking from experience,” I guessed, leaning against the doorjamb.

  Sofia stopped grating cheese and smiled. “Yes, thirty-five years. If they don’t come home for dinner, you worry they won’t come back at all. But when they do, and they got the bad guy, or stopped someone from hurting someone else, it makes it all worthwhile.” I could see the adoration in her eyes. She was definitely proud of her policemen.

  “What does Tina do?”

  “She’s a nurse over at County. She’s on maternity leave right now. Nick didn’t tell you?”

  My brow furrowed as I wondered why he wouldn’t. “No, which is weird since I told him my mother’s a nurse there.”

  Sofia opened the oven door and pulled out the large casserole dish filled with manicotti. “Is she? I wonder if Tina knows her.” She set the dish on the counter and closed the oven door. “Here she is now, we’ll ask her.”

  I turned around to the sound of the front door opening.

  “I’m sorry we’re late, but Hannah desperately needed to sleep.” Tina walked down the hallway towards me. I moved back to let Sofia by to steal the baby in her arms. Tina’s hair was lighter than Nick and Rob’s; it fell to her shoulders in a playful bob. Her eyes were chocolate brown, and she had a small angled nose and chin, with a dark complexion. She looked familiar; I was sure she was one of the nurses who worked with my mother on the maternity ward. She handed Hannah over to her mother as she stared at me. She looked like she was trying to place who I was. “Tina, stop staring at our guest. This is Abby. Nick’s girl.”