“I hate you,” I laugh.
He scoots closer, the heat of the day too much for us to be lying this close, but I can’t pull away. I like the proximity, the way it makes me feel safe. The little ripple of anxiety, that things are about to sprial out of control with my life, is calmed with him peering over me. It’s a relief to be able to breathe for once . . . even if it is sweltering.
The heat, the smell of his skin diminishes my resolve and I give in.
“My brother is missing. He has been for a while.”
“Like a runaway?”
“He took off to do something nice and something happened and now . . .” I sigh, fighting back tears. Fenton notices because he notices everything and scoops me up. Our heated, sticky bodies cling to each other, but that’s one thing he doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he doesn’t care. “My brother is the kindest person you’d ever meet. He’s a humanitarian, like you said your mother was. He’d do anything for anyone, and it was his heart that got him in trouble.”
I wipe a stray tear rolling down my cheek. “I miss him so much, Fent. I miss his stupid jokes and Dodger stats and calls late at night to ponder life’s great mysteries. I just wish he’d come home.”
That’s the best I can do without going into detail, and the last thing I want to do is to spoil this moment with a timeline of events, the way he looked on the proof of life video, the worst case scenario the government has given us and what that would do to me and my family if it were true.
His face is buried in my hair. “I’m sorry. I know what it feels like to lose someone.”
“He’s not dead,” I choke.
“No, I know. I didn’t mean that, rudo,” he says hurriedly. He breathes me in, holding me tight. “In my line of work, we lose a lot of people, whether it be their lives or just that they walk away and we never see them again. And, you know, both of my parents are gone.” He presses a kiss to my head. “Having an attachment to someone and having them leave is one of the hardest parts of life.”
I wonder if that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t have friends or girlfriends, why he purposefully doesn’t let a lot of people in. I don’t get to ponder it too long before he speaks again.
“Sometimes I think getting on a boat and floating around would be the easiest life, the best use of my money.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Lots of reasons. I guess the main one is I can’t trust anyone to handle my businesses. We do a lot of important things, and I can’t just walk away from that.”
“Like make food?” I laugh, wiping my face with the back of my hands.
“Making food, yes,” he chuckles. “And helping children with scholarships and buying land before the trees can be cut off it. We provide security to hotels and casinos, keep concert goers safe. We fund small businesses that hire homeless people and help get them started in life. Lots of different things.”
“Wow,” I observe. “That’s pretty incredible. So you do a little bit of everything, basically?”
“Yes, but they overlap sometimes. You know, you see a good deal on food and you can snag it and use it for one of the restaurants. You can take some of your contacts with the security company and use them in the restaurants for events and stuff. That’s how I fell into the restaurants; I met a guy through security that needed an eatery in his new hotel.”
“So you just started a restaurant?” I laugh.
“Yeah, basically. I mean, I hired people to figure it out. I don’t know anything about cooking, only eating,” he grins.
“You do eat very, very well, Mr. Abbott.”
He shakes his head and laughs, the sound pulling at my core. An ache spreads from my stomach to my groin, causing me to shiver.
“If you could be patient with me and not look too far into it, I’d like to see you when we get home,” he whispers. He drags his hand down my stomach and cups my pussy in his palm. I gasp, maybe at his words as much as from the contact.
“You just want me for sex, don’t you?” I breathe.
“I do want you for sex,” he roughs. “But I also want to spend time with you. Talk to you. Take you for a hamburger.”
Pressing a kiss to his lips, I switch positions so I’m straddling him. “I’d like all those things. As long as they all lead to sex.”
He laughs, pulling me flat against him. He arms wrap around me. “If that’s a deal breaker, I’m happy to promise that all things can lead to sex.”
“Mr. Abbott,” I whisper, planting kisses up his chest, “Consider it a deal.”