Abby stood in the kitchen doorway, grinning ear-to-ear as she watched Michael take in the kitchen table. It was loaded with food. Scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, biscuits, gravy, corn beef hash, and even oatmeal—just in case Michael was a vegetarian.
Somehow she got the feeling that a man like Michael didn’t follow a restrictive diet, but it would have been a shame to make a breakfast he couldn’t eat at all.
“Well, I’m repaying you for your services with a date, right?” Abby asked. The thought that a man like Michael genuinely felt attraction for a woman as unconventionally beautiful as she was still registered as surreal, but she’d come to embrace it and even be excited by it. “I figured maybe we could start this morning, before you got to work. A breakfast date.”
It was rare that she cooked anything—without anyone else to make food for, it didn’t seem worth the effort. Not when she could pop a frozen meal in the microwave or order in. But cooking for Michael, the muse who’d inspired her to write not one, but three chapters, yesterday was appealing.
Abby wanted to impress him, and by the look on his face, she’d succeeded.
“You really didn’t have to,” he argued. “A date should be about fun, and I know you must have worked hard to put all of this together.”
“The fun part is sharing it with you,” Abby said with a smile. She crossed the kitchen and poured the coffee she’d brewed in her grandfather’s French press into two mugs. No instant coffee this morning. Now that she had some time to prepare herself for a guest, she wanted to make a good impression.
Both mugs in hand, she turned to the kitchen table and set them out, then bade Michael to sit. He sank into one of the seats, still looking bewildered.
Even when caught by surprise, there was something powerful and primal about him that drove Abby wild.
“You know how to sell a pitch.” Michael looked pleased.
“That’s a little bit my job,” Abby replied with a wink. “If I wasn’t any good at words, I wouldn’t be a writer.”
She served Michael’s plate and passed it to him before she served her own, and she was pleased to see that he waited for her before picking up his fork. It looked like the man who worked in repair had manners.
More than that, he had personality. Loyalty.
There was something earnest about him that crept through in the way he looked at her and in the way he spoke, and Abby couldn’t shake it.
Michael was on her mind all the time, and there was nothing she could do to stop herself from thinking about him.
“Thank you for this,” Michael said once Abby was finished serving herself. “It’s a really kind thing for you to do.”
“And you’re doing a really kind thing for me,” she said. “We’re even.”
“Not by half.” Sincerity sparkled in Michael’s blue eyes. “Even if I fixed everything wrong with this cabin, it wouldn’t be worth the price of a date with you. And now, to top it off, I’ve got a home cooked meal to pay back.”
Heat crept down Abby’s neck, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Stop it.”
“I’m serious.” Michael reached out across the table and took her hand in his. The pad of his thumb stroked the back of her hand, and a shiver worked its way down Abby’s back in turn. Heat flooded her stomach and sank low, and she felt the first quivers of arousal prick low in her gut. “You sell yourself short, Abby. Your grandfather always said the same thing. I happen to think that you’re gorgeous. Stunning. But more than that, I want to get to know you. You’re worth all of this and more.”
The paranormal novel she was writing got that much more real. Abby had no idea what to say, but she smiled shyly and let herself make eye contact, drowning in Michael’s gaze.
Having breakfast with a near stranger wasn’t supposed to feel this good. It was as though her soul were singing for him, beckoning him closer.
But things like that only happened in romance novels, didn’t they?
It looked like she had a lot to learn about love, and with any luck, Michael would be there to teach her for as long as she stayed in Cub’s Cove.
* * *
As breakfast went on, Abby was certain that Michael kept glancing at her breasts.
It wasn’t like she was hiding them. Yesterday, after she’d written until her fingers were little more than stumps, she’d called Carmen and Tiffany, and the three of them had driven over a couple of towns to pick out the perfect outfit for the morning.
Most of the time, Abby would have never bothered. With Tyler she’d always worn nice clothes, but she’d never gone out to buy something just because she wanted to look nice for him. With Michael, it was different.
“You’ve got it baaaad,” Tiffany had teased with a laugh. “And I’m so happy for you, Abby. I told you we were going to get you out of your funk.”
“How long until we can meet him?” Carmen had asked. “I’ve seen him around town from time to time, but he’s never really made himself a public figure. I don’t know anything about him, and that needs to change.”
“How about I go on at least one date with him first? Maybe he’ll decide he doesn’t like me after all.”
“With that dress?” Tiffany had scoffed. “Yeah, no way.”
It looked like she was right.
The yellow dress she wore wasn’t completely immodest. It had a sweetheart neckline that made her breasts look fantastic, and it clung right below her breasts to create a flattering empire waistline. It certainly wasn’t the sexy bombshell of a dress like the lace one the woman at the bar had worn, but it wasn’t casual, either.
Michael was noticing.
“You said you liked to explore the woods, didn’t you?” Abby asked, eager for conversation. They’d finished breakfast, and it looked like Michael wasn’t interested in seconds. “Did you and grandpa ever find anything neat out there? I remember when I was a kid, we found all kinds of interesting things. Trees covered in fungus, or rocks with crystals… Once we found the antlers from a deer.”
“Oh. There’s tons to be seen out there. I don’t think I could pick a favorite discovery.” Michael’s hand slipped across the table again to take hers, and Abby shivered when he touched her. The pinpricks that ran up her arm were impossible to ignore. She couldn’t remember another date who’d ever made her feel so wonderful through innocent touch alone. “Really, I think my very favorite discovery didn’t happen in the woods at all.”
“It didn’t?” Abby tilted her head to the side, curious. “Where did it happen? What was it?”
“It was at the bar the night I met you,” Michael said softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever made a discovery as fantastic.”
He was talking about her. Abby sank back in her chair, but she didn’t pull her hand away from his. Michael’s thumb worked across her skin, caressing.
Did he really have to get to work? Abby was beginning to think that fixing a house with some minor damage wasn’t worth the price of losing his company.
If this kept up, it was going to be very hard to get back to writing—this time not because of heartbreak, but because her heart couldn’t get enough of the way Michael made her feel.
“It’s like all the little things in life have come together to lead me to you,” Michael said. “Coming to this town, meeting your grandfather, and hearing all about you through him… Who would have thought when we met, we’d hit it off like we have?”
He thought that they were hitting it off. Butterflies rose in Abby’s stomach, and she had to control herself from laughing out loud with joy. There had been gorgeous women at the bar—skinny, confident, attractive women, but somehow it had been her who’d landed the hottest man of all.
And it wasn’t a trick.
Abby knew that she was pretty, and that her weight was only a number, but it was a much harder concept to internalize than it was to speak. But Michael was helping her see her worth, and right now, she felt on top of the world.
When he leaned across the table, Abby leaned, too. An
d when their lips met and she closed her eyes, there wasn’t anything else on her mind than how wonderful that moment was and how spectacular she felt.
Unadulterated joy, like fireworks, burst inside of her and lit her up from the inside out. She smiled against Michael’s lips as he led her through one of the sweetest kisses she’d ever had, and then, when the kiss came to a natural end, he pulled back and she opened her eyes.
His hand slipped away from hers reluctantly.
“I better get to work before I get too distracted,” he whispered.
Michael had slipped out of his chair and through the front door before she could pull her thoughts together well enough to ask him to stay.
* * *
There weren’t any clouds, and the light of the sun beat down mercilessly. Inside the cabin, typing away at her laptop, Abby was sheltered from the worst of it.
Up on the roof, toiling away at replacing some rotted wood, she knew that Michael wasn’t so lucky.
It had been hours since he’d slipped away at breakfast, but her mind had been on him the whole time. The touch of his lips against hers still made her feel hot, and she’d taken all of that inspiration and funneled it into her latest novel.
The first in a paranormal series, she decided.
Even if things didn’t work out between her and Michael, what they’d shared in the short time they’d been together was inspiration enough for a trilogy. Maybe even more. Abby’s head was full of him, and her body still vibrated at the memory of his touch.
The man really was magical. Her real-life paranormal hero.
Only in person, Michael was somehow even better than his fictional counterpart.
He was still tearing apart the old wood when she made her way out onto the front lawn to look up at him, a tall glass of ice water in hand.
“Do you want a drink?” Abby called up to him. From where she stood, she couldn’t see him, but she knew that he had to be there. She could hear him tearing and tossing wood down.
A few seconds later, Michael made his way over, and Abby’s heart jumped into her throat.
He was shirtless. The jeans she wore were tightened at the waist with a belt, but were otherwise baggy. Sweat glistened on his skin, which was tanned from hours spent toiling in the sun. And his muscles?
She swallowed hard.
The muscles of his arms were corded, and while she hadn’t appreciated them beneath the sleeves of his shirt, now that they were on full display, Abby couldn’t get enough. And the sculpted plains of his chest weren’t anything to scoff at, either.
Michael had a six-pack. Abby had been convinced they only existed in movies.
Movies and for-hire construction workers, she decided. Men who worked with their hands for a living had to be toned like that.
And God, was he gorgeous.
It wasn’t the summer’s heat that slicked the sensitive folds between Abby’s legs. Michael did that all on his own.
He looked down at her and considered it for a second, running his arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat.
“Thanks, but no thanks. If I take a break I’m not going to want to go back to work. You know how it is, right? If I need to call it, I’ll come down and we can relax together.”
The way Michael mentioned them together so casually only made her hotter. The sun beat down on her, but she barely noticed.
It was wrong, that Michael meant so much to her already, but Abby couldn’t explain it away. Even if she tried, it wouldn’t change how she felt.
So she embraced it. Love was different for everyone, and she couldn’t discount it just because it was happening to her in a sudden, striking way.
Wasn’t that how all the best romances started out?
Flushed and only getting hotter, Abby waved him back to work and retreated back into the house. Keeping the glass of ice water for herself, she sat back in front of her computer and started a new chapter.
The kiss they’d shared that morning and the sight of Michael’s sweating, muscular body spurred her onward. She rubbed her thighs together and bit down on her bottom lip as she worked.
Knowing that Michael was working a short distance above her made it even more naughty, and she couldn’t help herself.
Michael had helped her out of one problem and into a new one—Abby was too into what she was writing, and if it kept up like that, she wasn’t going to get any work done, either.
Chapter Eight
Every morning after that, she sat outside on the lawn while Michael worked. At first he’d been concerned that the heat would be too much for her—if it wasn’t for his alter-beast, Michael knew that he would have succumbed to the heat long ago. Being so physical under the summer sun wasn’t healthy, but for a human it could be deadly.
But Abby made sure to sit in the shade, and she sipped on ice water regularly.
It didn’t stop Michael’s tiger from worrying. Really, the only thing that appeased it was the fact that, from the roof, he could look down and see Abby from above. And those days she’d taken to wearing shirts with revealing necklines.
It was a guilty pleasure, but Michael couldn’t stop himself from looking at those soft, supple curves. He was drawn to Abby like a moth to a flame, and he knew that an attraction so strong would never go away.
Abby was his mate. There was no denying it. What he felt for her would never change.
She just didn’t know it yet.
A week passed, and bit by bit the roof came together. Once it was done, Michael started repairs on the inside of the house, and to his delight, Abby followed him in and worked from the living room. The tiger was happy, and so Michael was happy. Their goals were common—to keep their mate safe—and Michael felt much better to have her out of the sun.
And at night, when the tiger roused from its usual slumber and infused itself through Michael’s mind, Michael took to the woods to wander, hunt, and prowl.
Night after night, they returned to the woods near Abby’s cabin, often remaining just out of sight while they watched through the same set of eyes as the lights in the windows went out one by one.
There’d been a time when Michael couldn’t bear to bring himself back to the woods he’d explored with Carlson, but circumstances were different now. He’d met his mate, and the healing process had begun.
Michael liked to think that the old man would be thrilled that Abby was Michael’s mate.
“She needs someone to keep her head on right,” Carlson had always told him. “That girl will dream herself into trouble if she’s not careful, and I don’t trust that Tyler boy she’s dating to keep her on the right path.”
Michael wasn’t sure what had happened to Tyler, and frankly, he wasn’t concerned. The fact was, Abby had been at the speed-dating event as a participant, and now she was his mate. What history she had with other men didn’t concern him—what Michael cared about was her future.
It was a future he wanted to entangle with his own.
Two weeks passed. During the day, Michael showed up to Abby’s place to fix the damage around the property and sneak glances at her, and during the night, Abby cooked him dinner and they ate together, talking and laughing about anything and everything.
She was writing a new book, he’d learned, but she was being secretive about what it was about. By the way she looked at him while he worked, and how her cheeks sometimes flushed red afterward, Michael was pretty sure he knew.
It made him puff with pride.
Abby wasn’t a tiger, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel the bond between them. Michael was sure that bond was manifesting in her writing. The more she opened up to him over dinner, and the more he got to know her, the better he thought the connection was for her.
Being beautiful and smart wasn’t enough to keep up Abby’s confidence. Michael had learned that she had self-image issues, and that she doubted herself more often than she should.
Dating him, he liked to think, would help her.
And he was going to
make sure she knew exactly what she meant to him.
That night, Michael was going to make his move.
It was edging on five, and after a long day at work, Michael was ready to throw in the towel. The porch was in need of some small cosmetic repairs, and he’d been working on getting it back into shape. Abby was seated across the way on one of the wicker chairs, typing like mad. Her fingers stopped when the old phone inside the house rang.
“I’ll be right back,” Abby said. She set her laptop down on the chair and entered the cabin to answer the phone. While she did, Michael decided to call it quits for the day. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm, then made his way to where Abby had been sitting to peek at what she’d been writing.
Mitchel Gage, the main male character, was in the middle of pinning Britney Coleman to the wall, their lips close, and…
The sound of footsteps snapped him back to reality, and Abby emerged from inside the house and walked over, one eyebrow raised.
“Were you just reading what I wrote?” she asked.
“And if I was?” Michael replied with a grin.
“I’d probably be embarrassed.” Abby laughed. “It’s um, not exactly the kind of writing you share with your family and friends, you know?”
“Good, then.” Michael drew closer, and the atmosphere grew thick between them with sudden chemistry. “Because I don’t like to consider myself either of those.”
He leaned so close, but right as Abby’s lips parted and she started to close her eyes, the crunch of gravel beneath the wheels of a vehicle distracted them.
Jason’s car made its way up the driveway.
“The call was from Tiffany,” Abby explained. “She. . .um, she wanted to come talk.”
“With Jason?”
“They’ve been seeing each other for a little while now,” Abby said with a shrug. “Isn’t he your roommate? You didn’t know?”
Michael had been too busy in the woods at night, exercising the tiger and working out its frustrations over having found a mate it couldn’t have, to pay much attention to Jason’s love life.
Tiger Speed Dating: BBW Paranormal Weretiger Romance Page 5
