by Kaitlyn Rice
But Abby had simple tastes. Her closet contained only a few dressy items, unless you counted all the T-shirt and jean combinations. She debated about which of her outfits the horrible stepsister downstairs would find acceptable.
There was the somber gray dress that she’d worn to the funeral, and a delicate lavender floral that she’d worn to the twins’ christening. But neither seemed suitable for Miss Sexpot. Except…the new blue business suit Abby had worn to dinner last weekend was in her dry cleaning pile. Maybe Diane wouldn’t notice that it was slightly rumpled. Pulling it out, Abby smoothed its wrinkles. It didn’t look too bad.
She hung the suit on a padded hanger and carried it downstairs. She was sure she’d made the right choice, and it was magnanimous of her to offer her best outfit. Diane didn’t deserve it.
Still, Abby wasn’t surprised when the woman stood in her bra and panties and said, “Is that all you could come up with? That’s the most repulsive suit I’ve ever seen.”
Abby turned it around, looking at it again. “It’s either this, or a T-shirt and jeans,” she said. “You choose.”
Diane grabbed the hanger and scowled as she stepped into the elastic-waisted skirt. It fit perfectly, being only an inch or two short. Pulling the jacket from the hanger, she slipped that on, too.
It barely met at her waist; Diane had to suck in her breath to get the buttons closed. And when she worked her way up to her bust, the jacket wouldn’t close at all. Abby held her own breath as Diane tried to wiggle her way inside.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” the woman finally snarled, turning her back to Abby. She unclasped her bra and removed it. Two wads of tissue fell to the floor, which she didn’t bother to pick up. Then she turned, buttoning the jacket easily.
Apparently, Diane had found padded bras and tissues a cheaper alternative to those miracle magazine cures.
The suit would work, and Abby debated over whether she should tell Diane about the face problem. She was tempted to let Jack see the hilarious white-and-skin-tone bull’s-eye, but she couldn’t do it. “Um, Diane? You might want to check out your face in the mirror.”
Diane whirled around to look, and nearly screamed. “My God, this is a nightmare. I need my purse from my car.”
Abby waited.
“Please, bring me my purse?”
“Certainly,” Abby said, heading for the door.
But after retrieving the handbag and depositing it near the basin in front of Diane, she left the room. Anything else that woman wanted, she could get herself.
Abby found Jack in the living room, playing with the twins. “Did you find everything she needed?” he whispered.
“Hardly,” she answered, sinking onto the sofa.
“Would you mind if Diane and I left this afternoon to run some errands, and I came home after dinner tonight?”
“Please do,” Abby said with a nod. The sooner Jack’s friend left, the sooner she could feel like the woman of the house again.
“She’s not that bad,” Jack said, his eyes enigmatic.
“She’s not that good, either.”
Surely Jack was aware that most of the gewgaws on that woman were as fake as her personality. He must know, if he’d gotten close to her at all.
Diane came in then, looking a bit less glamorous than the temptress who had come to visit a few hours earlier. She smiled brightly at Jack as she tugged at the front of Abby’s jacket. “I’m all put back together,” she announced.
Jack jumped to his feet. “Diane, I insist on having your clothes cleaned,” he said. “Let’s head out early to take them to a cleaner, and we can browse the shops downtown before we go to dinner.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Diane said. “Jacky boy, I left my bag and soiled clothes in your necessary room. Be a doll and get them?”
Jack left, and Abby was quite surprised when Diane sat down beside her on the sofa. She leaned her newly painted face in close and whispered, “Don’t even think about getting involved with my Jacky. He likes to play the field, but eventually I’ll win him. He and I are two of a kind.”
Abby raised her eyebrows, but didn’t bother to argue. She knew the truth—he might play the field, but he was nothing like Diane.
When he returned, Diane left the sofa in a swirl and followed him toward the kitchen. As he paused in the doorway to check his wallet, she turned to direct an exaggerated wave toward the twins.
Her expression could only be described as relief, but she couldn’t be half as relieved as Abby was, as soon as the door had closed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ABBY TOOK THE TWINS into the kitchen with her, opening the refrigerator to finally scrounge some lunch. She grinned when she found the pizza box in front, with a note attached that simply said, “Knew you wanted some. Enjoy. J.”
She warmed a slice in the oven, and let the twins gnaw on pieces of toast in their high chairs. Later, she took them on an afternoon stroll through the orchard. The last crop of peaches was on the verge of perfect ripeness, and Abby had already called in her harvest crew.
After today’s escapade, she intended to spend a portion of the profits on something new to wear. Maybe a pair of overalls. Miss Sexpot could keep the suit.
While the twins were napping, Abby went to the greenhouse to tend to the plants and the ducks. It had been thoughtful of Jack to bring the birds. Despite his claim that they were for the babies, she knew he’d bought them partly because of what she’d told him about Paige.
She wondered if he was as attentive with the women he dated. Right now, for instance, exactly how much attention was he lavishing on Diane?
He’d probably tell that caricature of a woman that she looked phenomenal, despite the repulsive suit. He’d make her feel desirable, and before the night was through, he’d probably kiss her.
Just as he had kissed Abby in a couple of weak moments.
But with Diane, he wouldn’t stop with a few kisses, and his caresses wouldn’t be abandoned at the smallest of interruptions.
That woman would probably get the whole man, with no holds barred. And as crazy as it was, right now Abby wished she was in Diane’s shoes, wearing her own new suit.
Or not.
No matter how many times she reminded herself to keep her feet on the ground and stay away from Jack, her heart craved something as unattainable as the clouds.
She wanted to be the woman Jack directed his smile toward, across some elegant restaurant table.
She wanted to be the one he flattered and kissed and touched.
She wanted to be the one he didn’t resist. The only one.
Stupid, flawed heart.
JACK LEANED AGAINST the counter of a stuffy downtown dry cleaning shop while four tired-looking women glared at him from the other side. He couldn’t really blame them for being mad. Diane had pitched a pretty disgusting fit just awhile ago, and had insisted that they all stop work and get out of her way so she could use their back room to change clothes.
They weren’t happy at the rude interruption, and neither was he. But he was glad she was changing.
He hadn’t liked seeing her in Abby’s suit.
He could still remember the sweet agony of watching Abby walk away from his car in that well-fitting skirt the day they’d gone to court. She’d been explosive in that skirt.
Diane seemed to fizzle out.
When a flurry of motion caught his attention, he realized the women were rushing toward their chores in the back, and Diane was strutting out in her own freshly cleaned clothes.
“Ready for our date?” she asked with a too bright smile.
“Ready.”
And though he bought Diane the promised dinner a few minutes later, he hardly considered the next hour a date. It was more like the mutual consuming of food across a table. They ate, but they barely talked.
He knew Diane was probably insulted that he’d taken her out to a fast-food restaurant. She was accustomed to wine and crisp linen tablecloths, and she acted as if she didn’t know wh
at to do with a paper napkin.
It wasn’t an intentional slight. The taco stand was just the only eating establishment he could find that was on the way back out to the farmhouse, and he wanted to get there as soon as possible to see Abby.
Anyway, he didn’t care if Diane was mad. Today’s escapade had been an eye-opener. Those long legs suddenly didn’t seem stunning enough to make up for all of her rude behavior.
She’d embarrassed him in front of Abby. He’d embarrassed himself by letting his jealousy over Duke the banker affect his behavior.
Now he wanted Diane to finish nibbling at her confounded burrito so he could get back home and point her, her car and her too tight clothes back toward the city.
And then he wanted to go inside and see if Abby was still awake, so he could apologize.
ABBY PULLED OFF her bathing cap and heard the phone ring. She ignored it and stepped out of the tub to towel herself off. She’d finally gotten the twins to bed, and it was her time to relax. A hot bubble bath had worked wonders, but she still wasn’t ready to deal with the world.
Diane’s visit had turned a day of good, hard work into a day of hard-fought emotions. Abby needed this time alone.
The phone was still ringing.
As she pulled on her robe, she realized the belt was missing. She held the robe closed with one hand and made a mental note to get a phone line put in her room. Then she rushed downstairs. Of course, as soon as she got there she discovered that it wasn’t her phone ringing at all. It was the one in Jack’s office.
She started to head back upstairs, but the darn thing kept ringing. She’d counted at least twenty-three very insistent peals before she finally picked it up.
A woman with a childish sounding voice said she’d known someone would be home, and she asked for Jack.
Abby opened his desk drawer to grab a pen and paper. “He’s not here now,” she said. “May I take a message?”
“No, thanks,” said the voice. “I’ll talk to you.”
Abby frowned into the phone. “Who is this?”
“Zuzu Clark.”
It wasn’t a name Abby recognized, but the caller seemed familiar with her. “And you said you’ll talk to me?” she asked. “What about?”
“I was so sorry to have missed the two of you when you were in the city,” Zuzu said. “I wanted to meet you.”
“You wanted to meet me? Why?”
Abby’s thoughts were completely scrambled by the madness of this phone call. Apparently, this Zuzu thought Abby had gone to Kansas City with Jack. And she’d wanted to be introduced.
“I was hoping we could be friends.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not,” Zuzu said. “I always stay friends with my exes. I’d like to think that I’m gaining you as a girlfriend, instead of losing a boyfriend to you.”
Abby smiled now. This Zuzu must be a part of Jack’s harem, and she must think Abby was part of it, too. “But you haven’t lost him to me,” she soothed. “Jack and I aren’t together.”
“Really? He’s still blind?”
“Uh…I don’t think so,” Abby said. “He’s got his eyes wide open, and it isn’t me he wants.”
“But it is! Will you sit for a reading?”
“A reading?”
“I read tarot cards—and I’ll do you free.”
“No, thanks,” Abby said with a chuckle. “But I’ll tell Jack you called. Goodb—”
“Don’t hang up,” Zuzu interrupted. “I want to visit. How’s the tenth of next month? I’ll be in Topeka that afternoon to run a booth at the Juco Career Fair, but I could stop by beforehand. I’ll have to do Mrs. Dimwitty’s massage early, but then I—”
“Zuzu!” Abby interjected. “I’ll tell him.”
The sugary-voiced Zuzu sounded pleased. “I’ll be there at ten, maybe nine-thirty,” she said. “I’m so excited.”
And with that, she hung up.
Abby scowled at the phone. In spite of the odd friendliness of this girlfriend, she felt as if the revolving door had whacked her again.
Here Jack was, out with Miss Sexpot, and Zuzu the Psychic was waiting in the wings. Except she wasn’t very psychic, or she’d know that Jack wasn’t interested in his roommate.
She’d find out the truth when she visited, and Abby wasn’t going to stand around to watch her gush in gratitude. She usually had errands to run. She’d just take the twins that day, and leave early.
She climbed up the stairs and fell into bed. The bath had helped her relax, and she was too tired to stay awake long, but she did have one final waking thought.
The day of Zuzu’s visit, she’d leave Rosie and Wyatt home with Jack. There was no need to allow him the run of the house with another girlfriend for a whole morning. The babies might put a perfect damper on Zuzu’s enthusiasm.
If Abby was smart, she might be able to ram a wedge under Jack’s spinning door.
Sabotaging his romantic involvements didn’t fit in with her plan at all. She knew that.
But it might make her feel a whole lot better.
She knew that, too.
A BABY WAS CRYING.
Abby stumbled to the nursery, half-asleep. Rosie had pulled herself up to stand at the side of the crib, and was grinning at Abby in the darkness.
“Hey, you,” Abby whispered. “Did you wake up to play, or do you need something?”
“Adaga,” chirped the sweet girl with flippy curls.
“You think so, huh? You need to go to sleep or we’ll wake your brother. It’s not time to play.”
“Deek.”
“That’s right. Sleep.” Abby checked her diaper and discovered it was wet. After changing it in the dark, she laid Rosie down again.
Tiptoeing back to her own room, Abby crawled into bed a second before a huskier cry sounded. By the time she had jogged back to the nursery, Wyatt was getting up to full steam.
Rosie was sitting up in her crib and gurgling.
“You two are giving me fits tonight, aren’t you?” Abby said as she rushed to Wyatt’s crib to pick him up.
She’d begun to head for Rosie’s crib again when Jack’s voice came from the doorway.
“Do you need help in here?”
Abby looked up gratefully, and down just as quickly when she noticed Jack’s eyes on her bare legs. She was back to her oversize shirt and skimpy panties. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “I don’t know what Rosie wants, but Wyatt is probably hungry. I recognize that howl.”
“I’ll feed Wyatt,” he said. “You work your magic with Rosie.” He pulled the baby boy from her arms, brushing his fingers against her breast in the process.
Heat flooded her body. She didn’t even attempt to speak, in case her lusty thoughts had somehow altered her voice. Nodding instead, she lifted Rosie from her crib and carried the chattery girl into her own room to grab her robe from the end of the bed.
She plopped Rosie in the middle of her mattress just long enough to pull on the garment. She’d ransacked her room earlier for the belt, but hadn’t found it. Tugging the sides together, she glanced in the mirror to see if she was decent.
The image she saw was that of a woman with bright eyes and a glowing face, thinking hopelessly sinful thoughts. Abby scowled at herself, picked up Rosie and padded back out to the nursery.
“That looks better on you than it was supposed to,” Jack said as she entered.
“Sorry about my state of undress,” she muttered. “Guess I can’t get used to having an adult roommate.”
“I’m not complaining,” he teased. “That robe was more for your modesty than mine.”
Abby wrinkled her nose at his blatant flirting, and sat across from him to offer Rosie a bottle. “Now there’s some typical playboy behavior,” she said. “You go out with one woman, and a few hours later you’re ready to flirt with another. Aren’t you ever tired of the game?”
“Was I flirting?” he asked, grinning.
“Humph,” Abby snorted.
And tried to ignore him.
Jack set Wyatt’s empty bottle on the floor beside him and patted the baby’s back. “I know Diane was difficult today and I’m sorry,” he said, whispering now. “She likes to be in charge.”
“I survived.”
“You didn’t deserve it, but don’t take it personally. She’s always been sort of stiff with women.”
“If you know that, why do you date her?” Abby asked, whispering now, too. The babies were both looking droopy.
“I have no idea. I suppose she’s just another rotten apple, but I didn’t realize that until tonight.”
Abby stifled a laugh as she lifted Rosie to burp her. “Diane’s not an apple at all.”
“She’s not?”
“She’s a potato head.”
Jack’s burst of laughter sent Wyatt into giggles, too. “A potato head. Why?”
“Shh!” Abby said, tittering.
When he kept staring at her expectantly, she explained quietly, “In Diane’s natural state, she’s starchy. She softens with heat, but even then she’s just a great big blob of blather. She needs things added to be truly good.”
Jack seemed ready to explode with laughter.
Abby gave him a dramatic look and put a finger to her lips. Then she tiptoed to the crib with Rosie. As she laid her down, she pointed to Wyatt’s crib.
Jack put the boy down, and they hurried into the hall.
As Abby shut the nursery door, she whispered, “If we get them started laughing, they’ll keep us awake all night.”
Jack stood three feet away, on the landing. “Don’t worry. I was following your train of thought.”
She couldn’t help it; that train of hers chugged right through her bedroom door, with Jack attached like a caboose.
She wanted him.
“Are you following it now?” she asked.
“No. What are you thinking?”
She wished she could tell him the truth. “The last group of peaches will be ready for picking in about a week,” she said with a sigh. “Be prepared to share the farm with a few extra bodies on afternoons and weekends, for a while.”
