But some sane part of me knew that I had to take things slow with Abby. This—me kissing her, her kissing me back—was a big first step, and I could ruin that by demanding more. So instead I contented myself with memorizing her mouth, lazily trailing my tongue over hers, and letting my fingers gently caress her hip over the cotton of her T-shirt. I became aware of her gradually relaxing against me, her shoulders easing and her fingers loosening their tight grip on my back.
I drew away from her mouth slowly, dropping small kisses at each corner of her lips and then trailing down her jaw to the soft skin on the side of her neck. Swirling my tongue around her earlobe, I paused to whisper in her ear.
“Abby? I like kissing you.”
I was prepared for her to pull away, push back and retreat again. But I wasn’t ready for her quiet laugh, and it utterly disarmed me. My heart lurched, and that was the moment Abigail Donavan completely owned me.
“I like kissing you, too, Ryland.”
I tempted fate by pulling back a little and looking into her eyes in pretend shock. “Aha! You do know my first name.”
She smiled and shook her head, and a lovely shade of pink deepened on her cheeks. “Yes, I know your name, and you know I do.” She reached her fingers to smooth back my hair from my face. “Not that I’m complaining, but what made you come up here tonight? Why this . . .” She pointed at herself and then at me. “Why now?”
I linked my hands behind her back and studied her pretty face. “I don’t know why now. I mean . . .” I was always a proponent of brutal honesty, and if Abby were going to get mad about the girl groping me down in the bar, I’d rather she did it now, hearing it from me. “I was downstairs having dinner with Linc. After he left, I stayed to listen to the band, and some girl came over to me.” Abby tensed a little, and I held her a bit closer. “She was kind of touchy-feely. And she invited me back to her apartment for the night.” I leaned forward to kiss the top of Abby’s head. “I could’ve gone. I don’t owe anyone anything—or rather, at that minute I didn’t. But I realized that I wasn’t interested. I didn’t want a random chick from a bar. Not when the only woman I wanted to kiss and hold was right upstairs.” I kissed her lips this time, lightly and fast. “That’s you, by the way.”
“I figured that out.” The old dry tone was back in Abby’s voice, and I was glad. “But why me? We haven’t gotten along from the minute we met. And what I said yesterday still holds. We work together. And I’m older than you.” She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t have a mother complex, do you?”
I couldn’t help laughing. “No, sweetheart, no mother complex here. I have a perfectly fine mom, and our relationship is so healthy it’s boring. You being older than me means nothing. It’s a few years, right? I mean, Ab, how old are you, anyway?” I tickled her side until she bent, giggling. “You’re not one of those Inca mummy girls who looks sixteen but is really a few thousand years old, are you? Because yeah, that’d be a deal breaker.”
She shook her head. “I’m thirty-three. And I’m not ashamed of my age. I just . . . you’re younger. I don’t want to feel like some skeevy old woman robbing the cradle.”
“Yeah, I’m twenty-eight. That’s five years. Now, if you were twenty and I were fifteen, you might qualify for the skeevy. But you’re not and I’m not. We’re both adults. It doesn’t matter to me. Why should it bother you?”
“But we do work together.” She hadn’t pulled away from me yet, and I was counting that as a good sign. “That might not be such a good idea.”
“We work together on this project. I’m not going to be one of your employees at the hotel once it’s done, and you won’t be mine. That’s a short-term issue, and I don’t think it’s one that even applies here.” I slid my hands up to her ribs, just barely teasing the sides of her breasts but not going any further. “I promise you, Donavan, I won’t use sex to get my way when we argue about decisions at the Riverside.” I bowed my head and skimmed my lips up her neck until she shivered. “On the other hand, I wouldn’t discourage you from doing the same.”
Abby smiled a little and sighed, dropping her forehead against my chest. “Do you want to sit down? I can get you something to drink. I don’t have much up here, just some water and a bottle of wine.”
“I don’t need anything.” I sank down onto the sofa and tugged her to sit with me. “And I should probably get back to Cooper’s since this is Linc’s first night in town. I mean, he’s most likely sound asleep already, but just in case.”
“What did he think of the hotel?” Abby arranged herself alongside me, tucking her feet up beneath her again. I draped my arm over her shoulder so that she was pressed up next to my side.
“He was very impressed. Estimates about six to eight weeks before you can open, barring some weather-related emergency. He wants to be in on the landscaping meeting next week, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. I’m looking forward to meeting him.” She burrowed her head down a little more against me. “Ryland? Just so you know . . . I’m still scared of this. Of us. I know it sounds stupid, but I need us to move real slow.” She hesitated, and I ran my finger down the smooth skin of her arm in encouragement. “I jumped into everything with Zachary. And I know you’re not him, and I know I’m smarter now. But still, I have to be careful, for my own mental well-being.”
“I understand. You’re right.” I thought of Linc’s warning to me earlier. “And maybe we need to be kind of discreet until the hotel project’s wrapped up, so that we don’t raise any eyebrows.”
“Probably a good idea.” She knit her hands together and fiddling with her fingers. “So after the hotel is finished, you’ll be moving on to the next job?”
I knew where she was going with this, and I swallowed a sigh. The last thing I wanted to think about right now was leaving Abby, but it was way too soon to talk about any alternative. I lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug.
“I guess so. Nothing’s booked right now. Winter tends to be our slow time, since no one wants to pay us when weather delays are fairly inevitable, even in the south.” I twisted a lock of her hair around my finger. “Of course, maybe I could find something in south Florida. That’s about the only part of the country guaranteed not to get snow.”
“Except Hawaii.” She sounded so serious, but I laughed anyway.
“Right, except Hawaii. Unfortunately, doing jobs over there is too cost-prohibitive for us. Getting our team across the ocean, bringing in materials . . . it’s not in the cards. Not yet, anyway.”
Abby didn’t answer, and I rubbed her back. “Let’s take everything one day at a time, okay? Like you said . . . slow.” I sat up a little, turning her to face me again. “But right now I’d better get over to Cooper’s. Since the band’s still rocking downstairs, I can slip out without anyone knowing I was up here.” I tipped her chin up, using one finger, and slanted my mouth over hers, reveling in the soft yield of her lips, the easy way she opened to me and the feel of her fingers digging into my shoulders.
She walked me to the door, and although she tiptoed to kiss me once more, her face had shuttered again. I tried not to let it bother me; there was no doubt in my mind that opening Abby Donavan’s heart was a work in progress.
But it would be worth it.
“THAT WAS ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS.” EMMY leaned back from the table and sighed, rubbing her flat stomach. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
I set down my fork on the small plate. “Well, maybe because we both work all the time, and it’s impossible for us to find time to actually go out and have lunch like normal friends?” We’d wanted to try this new tea room a little north of the Cove for several months now, but it was hard to find a date when both of us were free.
Emmy nodded. “Yup, you’re probably right. We need to stop doing that, the working all the time.”
“I don’t see that happening any time soon.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Cooper’s insisting that I need to slow down. I told him I’m not giving up
the weekends at the Tide, and I don’t want to stop making pies.” Sighing, she snagged another piece of scone from her plate. “But I might have to compromise. The man wants more time with me, and how the hell am I supposed to argue with that?”
“You’re not.” I fiddled with the edge of my napkin, rolling it between two of my fingers. “You’ve found the one, Em. Maybe it’s time to relax a little and let him take care of you.”
She snorted. “I’m not sure I remember how to do that. I’ve been taking care of me—and then three little mini-mes—for so long, I don’t think I can stop.”
“Cooper loves you. Part of loving you means keeping you healthy and sane. And if that means slowing down, and letting him do for you a little . . . why not? You deserve it, my friend. All that and much more.”
“Hmmm.” Emmy steepled her fingers and eyed me. “Well, since turnabout is fair play, what about you? When are you going to slow down?”
“Not any time soon. Besides, I don’t have anyone who cares that I work so much.”
“No?” She lifted her water glass to take a sip. “That’s odd. I could’ve sworn maybe there was something you’re not telling me.” She set down the glass and looked at me expectantly.
I felt the heat creep up my cheeks. “Like what?”
“Oh, that maybe there’s a certain contractor—excuse me, restoration specialist—who’s interested in more than just your studs?”
“My studs? Really, Em?”
She giggled. “I know, lousy metaphor. Sue me, I know nothing about construction. But stop trying to change the subject. What’s going on with you and Ryland?”
I tried for an innocent expression, my eyes wide. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We work together. That’s it.”
“Oh, really? Then want to tell me why he was sneaking up to your apartment last night in the middle of the band’s first set?”
Damn. “I’m sure he wasn’t sneaking up there, Emmy. Ryland had a question for me, and I answered it.” That wasn’t a lie. I was fairly certain he’d asked me some question at some point, even if it had had more to do with kissing and less to do with work.
“Uh huh. And was that question, ‘Will you do me now, Abby?’” She snickered.
“You’re so vulgar. No, in fact, it wasn’t. There was no . . . doing of anyone.” I folded my napkin in a small square. “Now can we change the subject? You’re bringing down the tone of our sophisticated ladies lunch.”
“I’m just trying to get at the truth. You might remember, my friend, that you told me how hurt you were last spring because I didn’t tell you about Cooper and me. So I’m sure if you’re getting down and dirty with the contractor dude, you would tell me. Right?”
I squirmed. Emmy wasn’t wrong. I’d whined about her not coming clean, and now I was hedging.
“There hasn’t been any down and dirty. I swear. But there may have been . . . kissing.” I was sure my face was pink. “You can’t tell anyone, though, Emmy. We want to keep it quiet while we’re working together.”
“Do you really think Jude and Logan would care about that?” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “Jude would be the first one to tell you to go for it.”
“Still.” I leaned back. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on between us. Maybe it’s going to be nothing. So I don’t want to make a big deal, okay? If it looks like we’re going to elope, I promise I’ll tell you first.”
“You better. I have dibs on matron of honor.” Emmy reached across to pat my hand. “Abby, do you like him? Ryland, I mean? Like him, like him?”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize we were back in middle school.” I gave her a little nudge with my foot under the table. “I like Ryland, yes. Satisfied?”
“Are you in love with him?”
I shook my head. “Too early, Em. We’ve only just acknowledged we like kissing each other. I’m not rushing into anything. I’ve learned my lesson there.”
“I understand.” She hesitated. “Abby, would you tell me what happened in Boston?”
I sagged against the chair. I’d told myself that if Emmy or Jude ever asked me point-blank, I’d tell them. Neither of them had until now.
“I made a crucial error in judgment.” I chewed on the corner of my lip. “It was my first solo managing job, and I let myself get swept away by the guy who was the assistant manager at the restaurant.” I closed my eyes, remembering, waiting for the pain to sweep over me again. Oddly, it didn’t hurt as much as it had. “He told me he loved me. He wanted to marry me. We made plans. And then it turned out it was all lies. He only wanted me for how far I could get him in my father’s company, and my father found out.”
“Jesus, Ab.” Emmy’s forehead was furrowed, her eyes worried. “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
“It was humiliating because I screwed up my job and lost the position. And my heart was broken, because it was with Zachary that I really opened up for the first time. I loved him, Emmy. And he didn’t love me. He pretended, and when I found out it was all a joke to him—I didn’t ever want to get out of bed again.”
“I don’t blame you.” Emmy twisted her napkin in her hands. “I remember when Eddy ran off, I felt that way. I didn’t love him by then, not really, but I was mortified that I’d let him put me in that position. When I found out how much Matt had been helping us all along, paying Eddy extra, I wanted to curl up and die. It felt like everyone in town knew what a loser I’d married. Everyone but me.” She leaned forward. “But then I got angry. I got good and pissed. And you know what? That got me moving.”
I pressed my hands to my face. “I don’t think I ever got mad at Zachary. Maybe because I did love him still, and the broken heart trumped the mad. And then when I got the offer for the Hawthorne House, I just ran.” I drew in a ragged breath. “It took me months before I’d even see my father again. I let him down, and I embarrassed him, too.”
“Bullshit. You got taken in by a liar and a dickhead. There’s no crime in trusting, Ab. And I hope you won’t let this Zachary jerk keep you from giving Ryland a chance. From what I can see, he’s a good guy. He gave Lacie Barnet the boot last night when she was painting herself all over him, and that gave him a gold star in my book.”
“Oh, it was Lacie coming on to him? He told me about it, but I didn’t know who.” Lacie was very pretty, with big boobs and a smile that seemed to draw men to her. Ryland definitely got points for turning her down.
“Yup. She was pissed, too.” Emmy shook her head, smiling, and then squeezed my hand again. “Thank you, Abby, for trusting me enough to tell me about Boston and Zachary. I’m sorry it happened, but on the other hand, if it hadn’t, you wouldn’t have ended up in the Cove, right?”
“True.” I hadn’t considered that. At first, the Cove had just been a place to hide and heal. Eventually, it had become home, but I’d never thought about the fact that if it weren’t for Zachary, I might still have been in Boston, or managing some other cookie-cutter Donavan hotel somewhere else in the world. Maybe I owed him a debt of gratitude after all.
The waiter appeared with our check, which we’d agreed to split. I slid my credit card from its spot in my wallet and tucked it into the pocket on the folder.
“How did you find this job, anyway?” Emmy dug into her purse, looking for her card. “I don’t remember Jude and Logan advertising for the position at the Hawthorne House.”
“You know, I’m not really sure. It was weird. I just got an email from Logan one day, telling me about the job and asking if I might be interested. I didn’t have any other options, so I said yes, fast. I’m so glad I did.”
“Me, too. Still, I wonder how he got your name.” Emmy found her credit card and slapped it on the folder next to mine. “God, I need to clean out this purse. So do you think your dad told Logan about you?”
I frowned. “No. My father was insisting I needed to go back to Philadelphia and work under him for another year or two. And that was the last thing I wanted to do.” I paused.
“I have a complicated relationship with my parents. My parents split up when I was thirteen. My sister was six. She went with my mom, and I chose to stay with my father, because I thought he needed me. I was mad at my mom for breaking up what I thought was a perfect family. Turned out she was just trying to save herself from a man who was bent on self-destruction.”
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”
I had never told anyone about my family or about my parents’ divorce, but now, having pulled the cork, it all came spilling out. “I found out a few years later that my dad was a serial cheater. He never could manage that whole being faithful thing. And he’s an alcoholic.” I swallowed hard. “I had to fly up there a few months ago because his current wife left him, and he was making a mess of his life. Again.”
Emmy sat still for a moment, studying me. “What about your mother? Are you close to her?”
“Not as much as I’d like. I spent some holidays with her growing up, but after she got married again, it was hard.”
“You didn’t like her new husband?”
I laughed, a brief, mirthless sound. “Actually, the opposite. Geoffrey is wonderful. He adores my mother, he treats my sister Jess like his own and he’s always been great to me. But it felt like I was betraying my father whenever I enjoyed time with my mother and Geoffrey. So I wasn’t always the nicest person when I was around them growing up.”
“Abby.” Emmy held my hand. “You can’t blame yourself for acting like a child when you were one. I’m sure your mother understood.”
“She was always very patient. And now we have a civil relationship. We talk on the phone once or twice a month, and I try to see them at least once a year. I think she’d like more, but I haven’t been able to manage it. Maybe someday.”
The Path Page 11
