Her mind reeled at his speech. Her indignation faded. She was more surprised her knees didn’t buckle. He was an arm’s length away and her imagination leaped into overdrive, her mind on how his hands and mouth would feel if he closed the distance and kissed her. Did men come any hotter than this one? “I kissed you first,” she muttered. “That should have been a clue.”
His mouth twitched. “I remember. But I’m new in town and I don’t know all the dynamics. What I do know is that I don’t like sharing.”
Where this was coming from dawned on her then. “Danny told you I meet with Deke every week.”
Riley bobbed his head, but his eyes didn’t leave hers.
“It’s coffee. As friends.” She reached back and pulled out the pins holding her hair up in a bun. Slipping the pins into her pocket, she raked her hands through her hair. It didn’t escape her notice how Riley’s eyes tracked every move. “He’s talented, and very shy. He’s also extremely influential.”
“I heard the ads.”
“Precisely my point. He’s been very supportive. The flowers were a nice surprise from a friend.”
“He delivered them personally?”
It seemed an odd thing for him to latch on to. “You just delivered a tree,” she pointed out. “Deke is only a friend.” She might have briefly hoped for more, but in the presence of Riley she understood exactly how lonely she’d been. Deke might have eventually been more, but not now. “It was important to me to maintain that friendship for Belclare.”
“Got it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” He raised her hand from his chest to his lips. “You are a brave, gorgeous woman. Can you blame me for assuming there was competition?”
She rolled her eyes, though the compliment warmed her from head to toe. She pulled her hands free. Giving in to temptation, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Go get the stand. I’ll get dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You don’t ever have to say that to me again,” she said, leading him back down the hall to the kitchen.
She found an apron to protect her skirt and kept herself on task, starting the oven and prepping a salad to go with the leftover lasagna. It was a comfortable time as Riley worked, bringing in the tree stand and a handsaw. A prepared man was a treasure, she thought absently as she slid the lasagna into the oven.
Riley called her to the front room for an opinion. “Well?”
“It’s beautiful.” She wasn’t sure how, but he’d managed to find the perfect tree. It fit the space beautifully. “You sure don’t waste any time.”
“The present is all we’re guaranteed.”
The pragmatic philosophy reminded her that she’d likely stirred up a brand-new hornets’ nest before she’d left the station. Tomorrow could very well be her professional downfall if she’d overplayed her hand in that email.
“How much time before dinner’s ready?”
She checked her watch. “Fifteen more minutes.”
“Great. Point me to your decorations and I’ll pull down the boxes.”
“I can do that tomorrow,” she protested. “You’ve really done enough.”
“I’m on a roll here,” he said with that dead-sexy grin. “If Mrs. Wilks and I can decorate two trees—”
“She helped you decorate your tree?” He really had been keeping an eye on the older woman. His kindness created a warmth inside Abby that had been missing in recent weeks.
“The cookies went to my head,” he replied.
“Right.” Abby started up the stairs. “I keep the boxes of decorations in the attic.”
She tried not to think about how close he was as his boots sounded on the steps behind her. The man sent her system into overdrive with just a look. The present is all we’re guaranteed. His words echoed in her head, mocking her, tempting her. If leaving the lasagna wasn’t risking a fire, she might have taken him on an immediate and present detour to her bedroom.
She pulled down the access door in the ceiling and unfolded the steps. “Christmas boxes are just to the right.”
Squeezing around him, she headed back downstairs. “Riley?” He paused on the steps. “Thanks.”
“Your lasagna is well worth it.”
There he went, lightening the mood and putting her at ease.
She returned to the kitchen with a smile on her face and had a quick debate over which table to set. The kitchen felt too casual and the dining room felt like too much pressure.
She split the difference with green place mats and a votive centered on a bright red napkin on the kitchen table. It felt like something out of a magazine from the 1950s, but she heard Riley in the hallway and knew she didn’t have time to start over.