He nodded. “I’ll be in my office. Goodnight.”
Abby wasn’t sure what to think when he left the room without looking over at her. She was tempted to follow him, but Ruth turned to her.
“Abby, do you need any help getting ready for bed?”
“Actually,” Abby said, “I could really use a shower, but I wouldn’t dare trying to use it with this gimp leg of mine.”
“Are you sure a bath won’t be easier?”
“I’d love one,” Abby admitted. “I’m not sure you’ll be able to get me back out after, though.”
“How about a sponge bath, then?” she teased.
“Gosh, I hope I’m not that far gone yet,” Abby laughed.
“Well, ladies, I can’t help much with this, so I’m going to head up too,” Rob said, backing out of the room slowly, as though he had walked into a bear’s den. His gestures were even more amusing, given what he was wearing. “Goodnight, you two.”
“’Night, Rob,” they said almost in unison.
“Okay, let’s get you that sponge bath,” Ruth joked.
They laughed all the way to Abby’s room.
“Wow, this is nice,” Ruth declared as she saw the in-suite bathroom.
“Yes,” Abby agreed. “This whole place is so modern and bright.”
“The bathrooms upstairs are great too. I didn’t score a room with my own is all.”
Ruth turned on the shower and got it to the right setting as Abby undressed to her bra and underwear.
“Okay, kiddo,” Ruth called to her. “The water’s warm and you’re in luck. There’s a support bar for you to hold inside the shower. Towels are here, and there’s even body wash and shampoo all ready for you.”
“Awesome!” Abby said with enthusiasm.
“Think you can handle the rest?”
“Definitely.”
“I’ll wait right here in your room, just in case. Holler if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Ruth. I don’t know what I’d do without all your help.”
Abby closed the door but made a point not to lock it. She undid her bra and took off her underwear, making a note to sneak in a load somehow tomorrow, because she didn’t have any spare undies. She moved closer to the shower, holding on to the counter to position herself. Eventually, she was under the shower and holding the support bar. She laughed to herself, now able to relate to some of the patients she saw during her clinicals.
The water was heavenly. She let its warmth flow over her face and down her body. It energized and rejuvenated her; she was able to appreciate something as simple as a warm shower. Shampooing her hair with one hand proved not as complicated as she anticipated, although she had hoped to find a loofah or wash cloth to scrub herself. If she could have stayed in longer, she would have, but she didn’t like the idea of Ruth waiting too long for her.
There were three soft, plush towels on the bar outside the shower door. She quickly towel-dried her hair with one and wrapped another around her before heading out to wear the robe Andrew had given her.
Ruth hurried to her side as she opened the door, and helped her to the side of the bed.
“That was so good,” Abby said.
She put on the robe and let the towel around her drop to the floor.
“Imagine how good the hot tub outside was,” Ruth said with a tone that was somewhere between zeal and abandon.
“I can’t even imagine,” Abby commented as she sat on the bed. “What trouble did you guys get into out there?”
She didn’t need any explanation after looking up at Ruth’s playful smirk. “Okay, maybe save it for tomorrow. I haven’t done much of anything today, but I’m pooped.”
“Blame it on the crappy weather and being housebound.” Ruth laughed, and added, “And in your case, chair-bound. All right, Abby. I think I’ll turn in now.”
“Can you do me one last favor before you head up?”
“Sure. What?”
“Throw my clothes and underwear in the laundry? They’re on the bathroom counter.”
“No problem,” Ruth answered, “Rob just showed me how to use it today, so I’m practically an expert.”
“Is the washer that complicated?”
“No,” she said softly. “I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I’ve never done my own laundry before today.”
“Never?”
“Never. We’ve always had housekeepers.”
“Not even in camp as a teen?”
“I never did overnight camps.”
“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Abby asked with incredulity. “How are you getting away with not doing laundry at college now?”
“Well, there’s dry cleaning, and I take my things to a reliable wash-and-fold service off campus,” Ruth said proudly. “It’s almost the same price as doing laundry myself in the campus dorms.”
Abby couldn’t help but laugh. “Kudos to you for learning to do laundry. And thanks for taking on mine too.”
“It’s the least I can do. What’s worse than never having done my laundry is my lingering guilt being here in Andrew’s house. I feel horrible for saying this, but my parents would have never let in strangers this way.”
“You can’t know that, Ruth.”
“Oh yes I do,” she insisted. “A young couple came to our door last summer. The woman was probably six months pregnant. The man said they ran out of gas. And you know what my dad did? He pressed the alarm system panic button and told them to tell it to the cops, because they would show up within minutes. Cold, huh?”
Abby agreed it was cold but tried not to criticize. “Maybe they were just being safe?”
“If they were, I’m sure glad Andrew is not being safe right now.”
Ruth stood up, looking a little more somber than when she came in, probably from having confessed something she felt so conflicted about.
“I’m going up now.” She walked to the washroom to grab Abby’s clothes. “I’ll put these in before I head upstairs. When I get up in the morning, I’ll bring them to you. Good night, Abby.”
“Thanks again and have a good night,” Abby answered.
She reached over to the lamp and switched it off, then slid under the sheets and settled into bed. Before she fell asleep, she thought about Andrew, and hoped he was okay.
Chapter 13
ABBY was wired. It took her a lot longer than usual to fall asleep. Her mind kept returning to dinner, Andrew’s second kiss, how much she wanted more. She wondered how far they would have gone were it not for the wild coyote who stole the moment. Every so often, Abby would shiver, remembering the jolt she felt when the rifle went off.
She tried to make light of the scary moment, recalling Wile E. Coyote cartoons and imagining the animal outside was just as much of a trickster as Wile E. It didn’t work. She sat up to take a drink of the bottled water at her side table and looked at the time. It was barely after ten at night. The decision was made. She read a little more Asimov to relax.
Picking up where she left off with Foundation made her think about Andrew that much more. She wondered whether he had ever opened up to anyone about the scar that ran from his wrist up to his elbow pit. Maybe it was intuition, or her personal experience of the loss of her mother. She was certain that his injury had something to do with the sadness and loss he carried in his eyes.
And perhaps that event—whatever it was—also led to his decision to leave the practice of medicine. He may not have noticed his own subtle nervous body language, but Abby did. Every time he spoke about medicine, he slid his hand up and down the scar.
Abby did not dare to ask, and started reading again to put it out of her mind. Or, at least, to try. The more she tried to read, the more he invaded her thoughts. His tall, almost giant frame, all muscled. His chiseled cheekbones. His sorrowful eyes. And his sultry lips. She kept the image of his face at the forefront, not fighting it anymore as she read. Soon, both Gaal and Seldon bore a stunning resemblance to Andrew.
She was barely
on the fourth chapter when she heard a knock on the door.
“Come in,” she called.
Andrew popped his head in the door.
“Hi,” he said, remaining at the door. “I was wondering if you needed anything before I turn in.”
“Thanks for thinking of me, Andrew,” she said. “I think I’m actually okay tonight.”
“I also wanted to apologize.”
“For what?”
“I felt an apology was in order,” he explained. “If I was inappropriate in any way during dinner.”
“Maybe you should come in and have a seat,” Abby said, leaning forward so she could turn to face him from the side of the bed.
Andrew entered with some hesitation, closing the door behind him. He eventually sat in the armchair between the door and the bed.
“I admit,” Abby began, “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything like what’s been happening between us.”
“Likewise,” he added.
“You don’t need to apologize. Unless I apologize too.”
“I appreciate that,” he answered, leaning back into the chair.
“So everything else is okay?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Actually, no, it’s not. I also wanted to say I’m sorry for rushing off when everyone came back inside.”
“I think I understand,” she answered, searching his sorrowful eyes.
“Really?” he asked, not breaking eye contact. “What do you think was the reason I left the room?”
“I don’t know for certain, but my guess is you feel responsible for us while we’re here, even though we’re not invited guests. You don’t want anything bad to happen, and you definitely don’t want to see anyone getting hurt. Not even the coyote.”
“Do you always read people so well?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I just saw the concern in your eyes when you grabbed the rifle. And by the way, thanks for keeping my friends safe.”
“Like you said, I couldn’t stand by and watch,” he added, moving his eyes away and to the window.
“Which is why you likely saved six complete strangers last night. And just so you know, it’s not something any of us takes lightly.”
Abby paused, thinking it might be an opportune moment to learn more about Andrew. She sensed he was not as forthcoming about his past, and there was definitely some trauma or major defining moments he wasn’t ready to share. She opted to share about her own past.
“You know,” she said with a slight smile, “at dinner, I was about to tell you why I got into nursing when we got a little…sidetracked.”
“We did, didn’t we?” he agreed with a low chuckle. “So tell me. Why nursing? And why oncology nursing, to be more precise?”
“I think it’s for the same reason you went outside with the rifle,” she began to explain. “After my mom was diagnosed with cancer, I felt so helpless. She was everything to my dad and me. She was so strong in spirit while she fought it, but as her body grew weaker, I became more and more withdrawn. Close to the end, I was sitting in her room, a little numb, and very much had put up a wall around me so I wouldn’t have to grieve when she finally left.”
“She was so weak, but managed to stretch out her hand to me and said, “Abigail Wittfield, you had better take my hand right now and start living, because so help me God, I will never stop reaching for you, even from the other side.” I took her hand, laid my head on her frail chest, and sobbed my eyes out that day. Here she was, suffering, with mere days left, and she wouldn’t give up on me, even after I had given up on her months prior. After she passed, I knew the only thing I’d ever want to do is help people. A career in nursing was natural, and oncology nursing just felt right after I got my degree.”
Abby let out a long breath after sharing about her mother. She didn’t expect to tell him so much. It just flowed out of her, as if the words needed to be spoken. It didn’t matter to her if he wouldn’t open up right away. Sharing was extra therapy for her. She sensed it was a start. And she felt so much better about having kissed a stranger. He wasn’t a stranger anymore, now that he knew a little more of her heart.
“You know, you’re just amazing,” Andrew managed. “I admire you for telling me something so…so personal.”
“It’s only fair, I think,” she explained. “I learned a lot about you over dinner, and I guess I felt more comfortable being able to share too. And now we’re not strangers anymore.”
Abby shifted so her feet touched the floor and she held the foot of the bed to stand up.
“Hey, are you sure you’re all right standing by yourself?” Andrew asked, almost lunging forward to grab her arm for support.
“Positive,” she answered.
Abby didn’t want to think or talk anymore. There was an amazing man in her room, who made her body tingle every time she thought about him, lit up her mind with his intelligence, made her relax, and caused sparks to fly about in her brain whenever she saw him. She wasn’t lying when she said she had never felt anything like that for anyone. Of the few men she had dated through high school and college, not one of them made her jittery. There were never any sparks. Abby didn’t know what it was she was feeling, but she knew she wanted more.
She reached up to his shoulders as she stood in front of him and pulled him down. She whispered, “Thank you,” planted her lips on his, and pressed a chaste but “I want more” kiss on his mouth. Andrew looked genuinely surprised by her action and it took him a moment before he began to react and respond. She pulled away to kiss a line across his bottom lip.
She let out a breath near his ear and under her roaming hand she felt his heart pound rapidly. Yes! That’s the kind of reaction I was hoping for. His hand rose from her waist, where it had fallen, to cup her head in his large hand and turn her face to his.
“Abby,” he whispered.
And those were the last words either spoke for the next fifteen minutes.
He opened his lips and took her mouth. Abby responded with zeal, allowing his tongue to dip in and unravel her. For the third time of her life, she found herself wishing the world would end and this moment would stretch on eternally. Having his mouth on hers, sucking her soul from her, tasting her mouth with his tongue, and letting her do the same to him, it was just out of this world. Hands down, the three best sensual experiences of her life.
Not even the need for oxygen had her wanting to pull away from him. She ran her tongue across his teeth and along his tongue. He tasted like wilderness, like unbridled adventure, and a hint of danger. There was really no other way to describe the unique flavor that was Andrew. She explored his mouth again and again, trying to find better words, trying to determine exactly what she was tasting.
At last, he was the one to yield to survival and pulled away first, in order to gasp large breaths of air. She followed suit and panted, collecting her thoughts and organizing her memories so she could recall them later without trouble. She wanted to remember him. No matter what happened in the future, she wanted to remember him like this. Every moment was an experience.
She was still filing away each sensation when she realized he had tilted back her head and was nibbling along the underside of her jaw. His teeth grazed a tender spot and she felt like laughing. She hadn’t known she was ticklish there, but apparently, she was. Luckily, he moved on, licking and kissing a trail south to her throat. His hands moved up to hold her shoulders and she lowered her head to rest her chin on the crown of his head.
Abby raised her hands to run her fingers through his hair. It was short and so smooth. Instantly, she loved the feeling of it against her skin. Would she feel the same if it brushed her thighs? Suddenly, she craved that knowledge. One of his hands shifted lower to tap against the pulse point throbbing wildly—thanks to what he was currently doing—beside her throat.
As he teased her there, he moved along her collarbone, nipping the delicate skin, then soothing each bite with tender licks. She swooned, letting out a moan, and felt her
knees shake. Andrew was so aware of her; he released his grip on one shoulder to wrap his arm around her waist for more support where she stood. As he did, she felt, more than heard, a soft chuckle rise from his chest and she almost laughed too.
His other hand had started to wander, too, dipping below the collar of her robe and grazing the top swells of her breasts. Immediately, her nipples peaked, pushing at the silky fabric. By now, he had to know she had nothing on underneath. He swooped lower and slipped a fingertip over her nipple.
His lips traveled north and his finger moved south. He kissed his way up her neck, under her earlobe. She shivered and arched her neck to the side to allow him greater, easier, please-dear-God access.
He was pulling her robe down dangerously low, stretching out the taut fabric, in order to sneak a few fingers under to massage her nipple between two fingers. She moaned, head falling back.
Don’t let him stop, she begged the stars.
Then, he did.
“Abby.” His hands were back on her shoulders. He was shaking her slightly.
“Um…yes?” She blinked at him, still awash in passion.
“I think we should stop. Otherwise I may not be able to.”
“Let’s not stop, then.”
Chapter 14
ANDREW felt both thrilled and terrified at the thought that Abby wanted him. When she told him not to stop, it sent wild shivers up his back and made him hunger more for her. A little voice at the back of his head kept asking, Am I really ready for this? When she uttered her desire, he cut the little voice off from the rest of his body, and only listened to the one that was saying, She wants me. And I need her so fucking bad.
He picked her up in his arms and whispered in her ear.
“My room.” They’d be more comfortable there. He’d be able to use protection, if they got that far. Most of all, he wanted to etch the memory of whatever happened in his mind and in his bed. When Abby nodded, he carried her out into the hallway, then into his room.
Andrew was barely in his room when she started kissing his neck, sending his need through the roof. He stepped forward and turned so her back was against the nearest wall, enjoying everything they could experience before they made it to his bed. As her feet touched the ground, he braced his arms beside her head.
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