Chapter Twelve
“I hear you and Abby went out of town for the weekend.”
Zach really shouldn’t have answered the damn phone without looking at the caller ID. He never did when he was in the shop, but damn it, he should have. Grimacing, he shoved a hand out of his hair and tried not to think about the fact that his brother Zane already knew how he felt about Abby.
It wasn’t like he had to explain anything here now, right?
Zane knew. The twins, Trey and Travis knew. Even his obnoxious and annoying little brother Sebastian knew.
Mom knew. Dad knew.
Everybody in the family knew.
The question was . . .
“Who in the hell told you about that?”
Even over the phone, he could hear the sly amusement in Zane’s voice as his older brother said, “Oh, I have my ways.”
Zach curled his lips. “You probably came over here sniffing around Keelie’s skirts again. Did she plant that combat boot in your face again?”
“At least I got the balls to make a move on the woman I’m interested in and didn’t sit around mooning over her like a p-ssy for twenty years,” Zane pointed out.
Sighing, Zach rubbed the back of his neck and tried to focus on the sketch in front of him. He had a young widow coming in here later that week who wanted a tattoo. Her husband had been killed in Afghanistan and Zach wanted to make sure he had the design right.
He’d been doing fine up until his brother called, too. Had his focus on the job, had the right sort of vision in mind, and everything. “Listen, man, I don’t know about you, but I actually work during the day. You might sit around jacking off all day and staring at naked models on your screen, but I need to get some designs done so if you didn’t call for a reason—”
“I did.” Zane’s voice lost some of the amusement. “I guess that answers that. I was hoping you’d finally worked up the courage and did something, but you wouldn’t be so f*cking uptight if you’d gotten laid.”
The pencil he’d been using snapped. “Shut the f*ck up, Zane,” he warned.
“Look, man, I just thought—”
“I don’t care what you just thought. If I just needed to get f*cked, I could get that from plenty of places.” He shoved back from the desk and started to pace.
“Damn it, that’s not what I’m getting at. Would you . . .” Zane trailed off into a long series of muttered cursing. Then abruptly, he said, “Look. I wasn’t meaning anything by it and definitely not that. I’d be the first one in line if I thought some a*shole was chasing after her like she was just a piece of meat. You know I love Abby. She’s like a kid sister to me and that’s the last thing I’d be thinking about. I just . . . look. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to make a move or she’ll end up hooked up with another loser like Roger. Is that what you want?”
Zach stared at the wall that held some of the work he’d done, but he wasn’t seeing any of the pictures, any of the designs he’d done on his own.
He was seeing Abby. The way she’d looked as they stayed out on the deck Saturday night, watching the sun set over the mountains. Neither of them had been wearing a damn thing, just laying on the lounge with a blanket pulled over them. He was certain it had been the most perfect moment of his entire life.
“Let me worry about my love life, Zane,” he said gruffly.
“That’s the f*cking problem. You don’t have one. You just—”
He hung up on Zane and lowered his head to stare at the worn toes of his boots, trying to think, trying to figure out why he hadn’t just told him. Out of all of his brothers, he was closest to Zane and if he could tell any of them, it should have been Zane.
But just then, he couldn’t imagine telling anybody.
And he knew why.
Once he told people, it would become real.
And when it became real, it would be too easy to break . . . to see it end, to see it fall apart.
She hadn’t walked away once he’d owned up to what he’d done. That was the worst thing he could imagine happening . . . at the time. But there was something far worse and he had to face it.
Abby was already planning for it to end and if he couldn’t get her to fall in love with him, it would end.
Absently, he reached up and ran his thumb over his heart, wondering if she’d noticed it at all. Nah. If she had, she would have said something.
“Zach?”
Lifting his head, he saw Keelie standing in the doorway. The look on her face was nervous and he sighed, turning away and heading back to his desk. He just didn’t have time for this today. Dumping the phone back in the cradle, he said, “I’m busy, Keelie. I’ve got several custom designs I still need to get done and I’m sure my a*shole brother will be calling my other brothers so I’ll have more fun conversations for later on.”
Bent over the sketch, he tried to block her out, but she didn’t seem to take the hint.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Sighing, he leaned back and met her gaze. She had unusual eyes, one pale gold, almost the shade of whiskey. The other was pale, pale blue . . . almost ice blue. She’d forgone the heavier makeup she often wore and her face looked almost naked. Frowning a little, he sighed and asked, “Are you okay?”
She shrugged and edged a few feet into his office, turning to stare at the design board. “I shouldn’t have said anything to Zane when he came by. I knew he’d give you a hassle. Dunno why I didn’t think about that.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The last thing he needed was Keelie feeling all guilty because his brother was acting . . . well. Like himself. No reason for her to feel guilty that Zane was just Zane. When he put his mind to it, Zane could charm a f*cking cobra and while Keelie seemed as mean as a damned snake sometimes, she wasn’t. Not really. It was a problem that Zane seemed to have developed a thing for her and Zach figured he needed to step in and make his brother back off.
He smiled a little. He could do it this weekend. They were all getting together for the twins’ birthday and he could pick a fight with the jerk . . . the mood he was in, it would be fun. He should feel bad, he figured, thinking about picking a fight with one of his brothers at a family get-together, but . . . well. It was going to happen sooner or later anyway and he figured his mom and dad were used to it.
“Look, Keelie, Zane is just being Zane,” he finally said. “Don’t worry about it.”
She shrugged a little and toyed with the sleeve of the formfitting black shirt she wore. “He wanted me to come to the thing at your folks’ place up in San Diego.”
Zach blinked. What?
Zane didn’t invite women to family things. Period. Ever.
She turned around and glared at him. “Don’t worry. I’m not going. I know I’m not going to fit in or anything so—”
“Keelie . . . shut up.”
She sneered at him. “Bite me, Barnes.”
He might have fired something back at her if she hadn’t looked so damned sad under the anger he thought he saw. What the hell . . . ? Swearing under his breath, he stood up and came around his desk. “Keelie, I don’t know what this shit is about fitting in with my family, but you need to drop it, okay? If Zane invited you and you want to come, then come.”
She glared at him. “Yeah, like your folks will just love having me there. I’ve heard you all talking about your family things, Zach. And you’re probably asking Abby . . . I’ll really fit in well with that crowd.”
“Abby and my family aren’t a crowd.” Screw this. Turning around, he said over his shoulder, “If you’re that much of a coward, Keelie, then fine. Be a coward. But the problem is you. It’s not my family. Not a damn one of them has ever given you a reason to think you wouldn’t be welcome around them so don’t act otherwise.”
“Screw you, Zach,” she snapped.
He ignored her and settled down to work.
He didn’t need this.
Not at all.
Asking Abby . . .
As Keelie stormed out of his office, he shifted his attention to one of the few pictures he had on his desk. All but one were of his family, his mom and dad holding their one and only grandchild . . . his brother Trey and his wife Cara. She’d died only a day after their baby had been born, something that had left all of them reeling from the shock. A picture of their son, an imp in kid’s clothing if such a thing existed.
The only other picture was of him and Abby and it had been taken by Zane. Zane, when he wasn’t standing behind a bar and charming women out of their panties, liked to hide behind a camera. He could make it in a big way with photography if he’d ever put his mind to it. He had a way of pulling emotions out of people, but he also had a thing about not really investing in anything. Zach didn’t know why, didn’t care.
But his brother had a gift and the proof of it was right in front of him, in the image of him with Abby, this picture that had captured every damned thing he felt for Abby and put it out there for all the world to see.
Of course, Abby never seemed to see it.
Reaching for the picture, he thought about the upcoming weekend. She’d be there.
Abby always handled the catering for anything his mom put together and it didn’t matter that she had to either fly or drive out there. He’d once told her that she didn’t have to keep doing it, and she’d looked at him like he’d grown another head.
She’d be there, handling all the food, talking to his brothers, flirting with his dad, and joking with his mom about whether or not she’d ever get any more grandkids. He stroked his finger down the frame, staring at Abby’s laughing face.
She was watching him with a smile in the picture, her arms thrown around him and her eyes glowing. It had been taken last summer . . . his mom had decided to surprise Abby with a birthday party and she’d roped Zach and the rest of them into helping with it.
Near the end, Abby had come up to him to thank him and he’d brushed it off. It hadn’t been his idea, so why thank him?
And she’d hugged him.
It had been so hard, not to kiss her. When she lifted that smiling face to his and he looked down into her dark brown eyes, lost in them . . .
Abby hadn’t seemed to notice, but he had. Everybody around them had. An odd, tense silence had fallen. Not awkward. But like everybody had been waiting. Then she’d just brushed her lips against his cheek and gave him a tight squeeze before she pulled away and headed back over to that f*ckhead, Roger.
A week later, this picture had been waiting on the desk for him, along with a note from Zane.
You need to quit waiting, man.
Yeah. He had to quit waiting.
So what did he do? Ask her if she felt like making this weekend at his family’s a date sort of thing?
* * *
“I can’t exactly do a date sort of thing,” Abigale said. Nerves jangled inside her belly and if she wasn’t making the batch of cookies for an event that evening, she would have been tempted to just start eating some of the dough to calm those nerves.
A date . . . They couldn’t do a date, not around his family. Denise would get the worst idea. Not that it would be bad, Denise thinking about her and Zach—
What? Her mind skittered to a halt as she realized just what she was thinking. There was no way she could go around Zach’s mom and dad and let them think they were dating. As much as she loved to tease Denise and Ron about their unending quest to see their boys settled down, she knew what would happen if she showed up there as Zach’s date.
Denise would get that look in her eyes.
That hopeful, starry-eyed look.
And then when it ended . . . It was a thought that made an ache settle right square in her heart. When it ended . . .
Strong, warm arms folded around her. “What are you thinking so hard about, sugar?”
Abigale tried not to let herself react as he rubbed his lips over her neck but it was damned hard. They’d been having their . . . torrid affair for less than two weeks. They’d spent the week together and had sex more times than she could—well, that was wrong. Seven times over the weekend. They’d had sex seven glorious times over the weekend. Less than two weeks and one weekend together and her body was already responding to him like she’d been made to do just that.
“I’m thinking I need to get the cookies done so I can start prepping for everything else . . . this is something I’m doing for a friend and I’ve got a lot of work to get done,” she hedged.
“Why do you try to lie to me?” He nuzzled her neck. “You never were any good at it. You can pull it off with everybody else, but you can’t ever lie to me worth a damn and we both know it.”
She sniffed and slammed the bowl down on the counter with a thunk. Wiggling around in the circle of his arms, she glared up at him. “I can, too. And I’ll have you know I do have a lot of work to get done.”
A grin tugged up the corner of his mouth and he said, “The hell you can.”
He reached behind her and she smacked his hand. “Damn it, Zach. That’s for a PTO thing tonight. You can’t have any.”
“A PTO thing?” His brows came together over his eyes. “Somebody is paying you to cater a PTO thing? Parents are supposed to bake the cookies and cakes and pies themselves.”
She sighed. “It’s some kind of meeting with the school board. The lady who contacted me is a friend and she told me, and I quote . . . ‘I want them in a good mood and if I don’t provide the desserts, they’ll be coming for my blood.’ So I’m doing the desserts. We worked out a trade, though. Her husband handles my landscaping and I need some more work done so she said she’d talk him into cutting me a deal if I’d help her out.”
“Pushover.” He dipped his head and nipped her lower lip. “Now . . . what were you thinking about? It sure as hell wasn’t cookies. You can do cookies and just about everything else blindfolded.” Then he flexed his hand and grimaced. “Although I don’t recommend it. Kitchen accidents are hazardous to your health.”
She squirmed and tried to wiggle away from him but he just leaned his hips against hers.
Oh . . . her lids dropped and a sigh shuddered out of her. That just felt so very right. Like almost nothing else ever had. “You did hear the part about me having a lot of work to do, right?” she asked. She pretended not to hear the way her breath hitched in her throat.
“Yes . . . and if you want to get to it, you should answer.” He slid a hand down her hip and toyed with the hem of the skirt she wore. “Otherwise, I’m going to think of something else to distract myself with. Hey . . . I know.”
She jabbed him in the ribs. “You’re such a juvenile.”
“Hmmm . . .” He cupped his hands over her hips and rocked against her. “And you’re so female. So do I start looking for distractions?”
From under her lashes, she stared at him and then sighed. “Zach . . . you know how your mom is. If we go there on a date sort of thing, as you call it, she’s going to get her hopes all worked up. And when this thing ends . . .”
He stroked a hand up her side, along her collarbone, and up her neck until he could rest his fingertip on her lips. “Why are you in such a rush to talk about everything ending, Abby? We just got started.”
“Ah . . .” She had an answer for that.
Really.
But even as she tried to figure out what it was, his mouth replaced his finger and she couldn’t possibly think when Zach Barnes was kissing her.
His arms hooked over her shoulders, his body caging her in, the kiss should have been greedy and demanding . . . and she could have met that, could have handled that. Hell, a quickie in the kitchen sounded like it would go hand in hand with a torrid affair, right?
Although she should really move it out of there while she worked . . .
But it wasn’t a greedy, demanding kiss.
His lips, light as an angel’s touch, brushed over hers and even when she opened for him, he didn’t take it deeper. Instead, he skimmed his lips up along her cheekbone to brush along her temple, then he rubbed his cheek against hers. “You thinking to call it quits already, Abs?”
“Call . . .” She had to force the word out through a tight throat. It had just been a kiss. Just a simple kiss. “Call it . . .”
Her brain processed what he’d said and it was like somebody had sucked the air out of the room, the light out of the world. “Call it quits?”
Jerking her head back, she stared at up at him. Was he—
He skimmed a hand through her hair and said softly, “I was barely getting warmed up and it seems like you’re already planning my good-bye party.”
“No, I’m not.” Okay . . . he’d been talking about something else. She wasn’t exactly sure what, but there you go. That was Zach for you. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“I ask you for a date and you’re over there talking about things ending and my mom being heartbroken.” He slid his hands down her arms and caught hers, twining their fingers together. “I’m kind of happy with how things are going, but it seems like you’re already looking at the finish line. Is that what you’re doing?”
The finish line . . .
Blowing out a sigh, she shifted her attention to a point past his shoulder. The silvery reflection of her refrigerator was nowhere as appealing to look at as he was, but when she looked at him, her brain had developed this annoying habit of just not functioning the right way. “Well . . . I’m not exactly looking at a finish line, but we never really did set out for this to be . . . be . . .” The word lodged in her throat. Shit. Shit, she couldn’t say that to Zach. They were having an affair. It was amazing, and wonderful, and she loved it, but that was all it was. That’s not all you want anymore, though . . .
“A relationship,” he finished.
Jerking her gaze back to his, she swallowed. Damn it, that knot was choking her now. Hesitantly, she nodded. “It was just supposed to be . . .”
The dark fan of his lashes swept down, shielding his eyes from her as he blew out a sigh. He dipped his head and pressed his brow to hers while one hand came around her waist, tangling in the gauzy material of the shirt she’d pulled on over a camisole-styled tank that morning. “You planned on a torrid affair, Abby. That doesn’t mean it can’t be something more.”
Her heart jumped into her throat and a hope she hadn’t even realized she’d been harboring started to rise inside her, growing so fast, so strong . . .
Zach’s lids lifted and she found herself caught in the intense blue of his eyes. “If you want more . . . if I want more, who says we can’t have more?”
“Is that what you want?”
Something flashed in his eyes. There, then gone.
That look, whatever it was, left her head reeling, spinning . . .
Sucking in a breath, she almost couldn’t hear his words over the roar of blood in her ears. Almost. “Abby . . . you have no idea just how much more I want from you.”