by Candis Terry
Abby laughed. “Well, Mrs. Orville is pretty hot with those pink camo Crocs and polyester pants.”
“Yeah. That’s what I was thinking.”
“Word on the street is the reason you can’t keep an assistant is because you sleep with them all and break their fragile little hearts because you won’t commit.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “I’ve heard that too.”
“You know what I think?”
“What’s that?”
“I think it’s all B.S.”
He looked up from inspecting Miss Kitty’s ears, grinned, and used her own line against her. “You’re too pretty to be so smart.”
“So why do you let everyone believe you’re some kind of man-whore?”
He shrugged. “Easier than trying to deny. I’m not saying I’m an angel by any means, but who am I to spoil people’s fun. For some reason, folks like to either have something to gossip about or someone to live vicariously through. Doesn’t bother me. I know the truth.”
“Which is?”
“I can’t keep assistants because the pay is low, the hours are long, and with an area as small as Sweet to find job candidates, the selection is slim. So I have to go outside the area, and after a few months, they realize the commute is too long and the pay is too low so . . .”
“The cycle repeats itself.”
“Exactly.”
“So I was right, you’re not some big ego-driven heartbreaker.”
He laughed. “I’m like anyone else. Someday I’d like to find the right woman and settle down. But by the time I get there, I could be settling into my golden years.”
“So you’re in no hurry.”
That Wilder grin came back. “Like I said, I’m no angel. So . . . about that job.” He handed Miss Kitty back to her. “You interested?”
“I don’t know anything about being a vet assistant.”
“You did 4-H and FFA. You’ve been around animals your whole life. Well, maybe except for the time you were in Houston. And I’m not sure professional football players don’t fit into that category.”
She had to agree.
“You’re a quick learner,” he said. “I can teach you what you need to know.”
She’d been looking for what she wanted to do with her life. Did that include working with animals? She didn’t know. But she was willing to give it a try.
“I might be interested.”
“Great. Show up here tomorrow at nine and let’s see how it goes. The pay won’t buy you a new Mercedes, but it’ll cover your cat-food bill.”
“Sounds good.” She eased Miss Kitty back into her carrier.
“Besides, the longer I can keep you here in town”—he gave her a knowing look—“the more time you and that jackass brother of mine have to figure out that you two belong together.”
She lifted her head to protest, but the grin on his face was so genuine, she didn’t have the heart to argue.
Besides, she agreed.
He showed her out to the reception area with a wave and a “See you tomorrow.” Abby set the cat carrier down on the floor and stood at the counter while she paid Mrs. Orville the fees for the visit.
“Surprised to see you back in town.”
Abby turned to find Pauline Purdy sitting in the chair directly behind her holding a fur explosion Abby guessed to be a Pomeranian or one of those puffball yappy kind of dogs. The large and in-charge woman was decked out in one of her stretched to the max polyester suits and a lacquered hairdo that closely resembled the dog on her lap.
Abby had briefly worked for the woman and her husband at the Touch and Go Market before she moved to Houston. Paul Purdy was a lecherous old dude who liked to cop a feel every chance he got. And Pauline was . . . well, there was no other way to say it than she was the town beeotch who believed that Abby had been luring her hefty and lewd husband into having an affair.
Abby had done everything possible not to put herself in the position to give Mr. Purdy’s wandering hands any opportunities or the missus any room for speculation. Didn’t matter, she’d become number one on Mrs. Purdy’s hate list. The day she quit, she’d been beyond relieved.
“Hello, Mrs. Purdy.” She put on her best smile. “How are you?”
“Probably better than you are.”
Annnnnd here it came. The exact reason Abby had tried to be invisible when she’d come back to Sweet. There weren’t many who were as judgmental, openly opinionated, and mean-spirited as the Purdys. But Abby didn’t want to give anyone a reason to paint a target on her back. Or her character. So she took the high road.
“You mind your own business, Pauline.” Mrs. Orville came to her defense, and Abby wanted to give her a great big hug.
“I’m just sittin’ here, aren’t I?” Mrs. Purdy snarled. “Doesn’t a person have a right to speak these days?”
Abby turned her back. The spiteful woman could say what she wanted, but it didn’t mean Abby had to hold the door open.
“I hope you’re not wanting your old job back,” Mrs. Purdy continued. “Because we don’t have any openings. Not that I’d rehire you anyway, with you leaving us in the lurch like that.”
Abby bit her tongue and kept her head down as she reached into her wallet for her credit card.
“Plus you getting dumped by that husband of yours? Says something, don’t you think?”
“I’ve got to go get your receipt.” Mrs. Orville patted her hand, and whispered, “Don’t you let her get the best of you.”
And there lay the problem.
Abby suddenly felt as though she didn’t have any best left. It had drained from her like dirty bathwater.
“If you weren’t even reliable enough to keep a job at a grocery store . . . well, it just makes a soul wonder why someone as successful and wealthy as Mark Rich would—”
“That’s enough.”
Abby turned at the deep growl of a voice behind her.
Arms folded, Jackson stood in front of her former employer. He looked down at her as though he could squish her like a bug. Abby kind of hoped he would.
“Everyone has a reason for doing things,” he said. “Just like the way you and the mister jack up the prices so you can afford your fur coats and diamonds. Even when you know there’s not a soul in Sweet who gives an honest shit about how you look.”
Pauline Purdy’s mouth dropped open, and her gasp sucked up half the air in the room. “Well, I never.”
“Probably a big part of your problem,” he said.
The woman stood, and the top of her head barely came to the center of his chest. Eyes glinting with anger, she looked up at him, and said, “I’m sure your mother will be quite disappointed to know how you’ve spoken to me.”
“And I’m sure if my mother heard you talking to someone she cares about like that, she’d take you to task herself.”
While Abby stood there frozen, Mrs. Purdy grabbed her purse and her pooch and stormed out the door.
When the door slammed, Mrs. Orville came back into the room, receipt in hand. “What was that?”
“I think you can scratch Mrs. Purdy off the books,” Jackson said.
The older woman’s head tilted. “For just today or for good?”
Jackson grinned.
Mrs. Orville grabbed a red pen. “Got it.”
“What are you doing here?” Abby asked him.
“Came to take my brother to lunch.” Eyes narrowed, his gaze moved up and down her body as if searching for war wounds. “You okay?”
“Yes. And thank you.”
He shrugged. “Always happy to help a lady in distress.”
She knew he hadn’t meant to push her thoughts in any certain direction, but the comment led her to think of the way he’d met Fiona. “You can’t rescue everybody you know.”
That gaze licked over her again. “That your cat?” He pointed to the plastic carrier at her feet.
“Miss Kitty.”
“That’s the name you came up with?”
She nodded, keeping the variety of mixed emotions inside her heart anchored.
“Well, it’s better than Sweetums.” He picked up the carrier and the kitten inside squeaked a meow. “If you’re done, I’ll help you to your car.”
She could argue that she was perfectly capable of carrying the little plastic box herself, but she couldn’t get over the fact that he’d jumped to her defense so quickly. And what damsel wouldn’t want to spend just a few more minutes with such a handsome knight? At least she’d have enough fuel to conjure up more nighttime fantasies.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Orville.” The woman gave her a wave and a smile.
Jackson followed her outside to her SUV and waited while she opened the door. He leaned in and set the carrier on the passenger seat. Somehow in the process, she became trapped between him and the door.
He was crowding her.
Purposely?
She looked up into those dream-inspiring eyes.
Hard to tell.
Until he braced his arm on the top of the door and trailed the backs of his fingers with the other hand down her arm.
“I’m sorry about Mrs. Purdy and her big mouth.”
“She’s only saying what everyone else is thinking. Most people don’t understand that just because someone is one of the richest men in the state doesn’t make him a good person.”
“The Rich family made most of their money in oil. To some, that’s the equivalent of being a divine being. But you’re right, that doesn’t qualify someone as being good. And it doesn’t mean you have to put up with people’s bad behavior.”
She wondered if he realized that the more he talked, the more he touched her. The backs of his fingers had changed to his fingertips. And each slow, methodical caress sent all kinds of crazy signals to parts of her that had been long, long denied. She’d gone beyond chills to shivers, and now to an all-out sweat.
Trying to keep things at a friendly level—or at least to keep her from embarrassing herself by grabbing his head and yanking his lips down to hers—she smiled up at him, and said, “Thanks for the rescue, but I’ve gotta go.”
He took her hand. Held it for more than a moment. And searched her face as if he was waiting for . . . what. She had no idea.
“Anytime.”
With a move as smooth as she could muster, she escaped to the driver’s side.
“Hey,” he called just before she got inside the SUV. “Why did you tell Mrs. Orville you’d see her tomorrow? Is your cat sick?”
“She’s fine. Your brother offered me a job as his assistant. I start work tomorrow.”
“You what?”
She gave him a finger wave and was gone before the holy fuck look on his face exploded into verbal judo.
“Are you kidding me?”
Jackson exploded into his brother’s tiny office. The framed diplomas on the wall shuddered with the bang of the door.
Jesse looked up from behind the desk; a smirk in full volume tilted his mouth. “I haven’t even said a word yet, little brother.”
“Tell me you did not just hire Abby as your next assistant.”
“No can do.”
“What the fuck, Jess? If you think she’s going to be your next conquest, you’d better think again.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Jackson jammed his hands on his hips.
“That’s what I said. Why do you care who I choose to see.”
“Because you don’t see women. You don’t date women. You go to bed with them, then, when you won’t commit, they take off for the hills.”
“And the problem with that is?”
“We’re talking about Abby, Jess. Not some new girl in town.”
“I like Abby.”
The blood in his veins sweltered. “I am so going to kick your ass if you even think of touching her.”
“Why, Jack? Why do you care?” Jesse got up out of his chair and came around the desk until they stood toe to toe. “You told me and Reno that you and her were just friends. Your exact words. Just friends. I think she’s beautiful. And smart. And nice. So why shouldn’t I be interested in her? Why shouldn’t I want a relationship with her?”
“Because you don’t have relationships. And because . . .”
“Because what?” His brother smiled, and the urge to rearrange his pretty face died.
Jackson dropped his chin and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, brother.” Jesse grasped his shoulder. “You know, for a guy who runs into burning buildings and stands up to terrorists like they’re flies on a wall, you sure can be a pussy about some stuff.”
“I’m not a pussy.”
“Really?”
“Sometimes things are just complicated.”
“Only because you make them that way.” Jesse punched him in the chest.
Jackson rubbed the ache above his heart.
“It’s you or me, little bro,” Jesse said in a taunting tone.
“You stay the fuck away from her.”
Another grin verified that his brother had been playing him all along.
“If you’re so damned interested in her for yourself, then why the hell are you still standing here messing up my day with that ugly face?”
Jackson shook his head. Maybe Jesse was right. Maybe it was time to own up to the facts.
He loved Abby. But what were the risks if he allowed himself to completely fall in love with her?
Colossal.
In the past, he’d refused to go there because her friendship had been too important. The two times they’d been together—in the carnal sense—he’d pretended like it hadn’t been any big deal. But both times had rocked him to the core. In the moment, it had seemed better to dismiss it than to get too involved and watch the friendship disintegrate.
He hadn’t even realized the impact of how he really felt about her until he’d gone off to Afghanistan. By then, she’d cut him out of her life, and, somehow, he convinced himself that he’d been right to let things slide.
But afterward, each day that passed, he found he wanted to be with her more. Each day he rediscovered the bits and pieces of what had brought them together as friends in the first place. Now? He worried that if he gave in to his increasing need for her—for more—the results would be disastrous.
He didn’t want to lose her again.
He couldn’t lose her again.
Not when he felt as though he was just getting a part of himself back.
Why couldn’t life be as simple as putting out a fire?
Chapter 9
Later that afternoon, a knock on the door surprised Abby. She hadn’t expected anyone and, covered from head to toe with dust and grime, she certainly wasn’t prepared to receive company. Whereas a year ago she’d have had the housekeeper answer the door while she made herself presentable, today she brushed her hands down the legs of her jeans, blew the strand of hair away from her eye, and opened the door.
“Hi. Wow, you look busy.”
Jana, Charli, Fiona, and Izzy stood on her front porch. Charli held a rectangular plastic container in her hands. Jana held a wicker basket. And Fiona held the most adorable little girl in the world.
“Hi,” Abby said. “What a surprise.”
“I know we should have called ahead, but we figured that would just give you a reason to make excuses not to see us. So we decided to barge in.” Jana stepped inside, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and held up the basket. “But we brought treats.”
Charli leaned in and kissed her on the cheek too. “I made her leave the blender at home. Woman is notorious for making alcoholic slushies.”
“Margaritas,” Jana said. “I even make them for Izzy.”
When Abby’s eyebrows shot upward, Jana said, “Virgin style. Come on. What kind of grandma do you think I am?”
“The best,” Fiona said, following them inside.
With that, Jana and Charli disappeared into the kitchen.
Abby didn’t expect Fiona to fo
llow suit with a buss on the cheek. They hadn’t even formally met. Not to mention they both had a past with the same man.
Closing the door, Abby pushed aside the awkwardness and extended her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
Fiona’s gorgeous face lifted with a smile, and their hands met.
“It’s nice to finally meet you too.”
Her words sounded genuine, which helped calm the jumping beans in Abby’s stomach. But not by much.
Dressed in pink stretch pants and a flouncy black-and-white zebra top, Izzy held out her chubby little arms.
Abby looked at Fiona. “Is it okay?”
“If you hold her?” Fiona smiled. “Of course.” She gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead and handed her over. “Is this uncomfortable for you? My being here?”
“Probably no more than it is for you,” Abby confessed.
“Then let’s not let it be,” Fiona said. “There’s no reason we can’t be friends just because we love the same man.”
We love, she’d said.
Not we loved.
Jackson spoke very highly of his ex-wife, and Abby knew he cared very much for her. As a family, they looked perfect together. They seemed to get along well. And because they had a child, everyone—including Abby—knew it would be best for them to get back together. To be a family again.
If that were to happen, or if Abby sensed there was interest on both parties to do so, she would back far out of the picture. Even as she wished she could be in Fiona’s shoes. Which today happened to be a really cute pair of turquoise wedge flip-flops with rhinestone straps.
“I agree.” Hoping they could indeed be friends—or at least friendly—she gave Fiona a sincere smile.
When the gesture was returned, Abby relaxed and took pleasure in the baby weight in her arms and the sweet-little-girl smell. Baby shampoo and strawberry Chapstick if Abby was correct. Something hit her heart, and she couldn’t stop the longing that hit her like a brick.
When Jana and Charli came back into the room, Izzy giggled and pointed at her grandma, who was making a funny face. The moment Miss Kitty strutted in behind them—orange-and-black tail flicking high in the air—Izzy said “Keke.” Then she squirmed to get down.
