Vice(23)

"Right." Appalled at the breathless note in my voice, I cleared my  throat, sighing in relief as I spotted Elise making her way over to us  with drinks. "Okay, who's ready to order?"





"YOU SHOULD HAVE warned me."

"Hmm?" I glanced up from my phone, blinking a few seconds to clear away  the daze before focusing on Abraham, who looked tired, harried, and  still gorgeous. "Warned you about what?"

"For some reason, I thought this was going to be quick." He plopped down  on the chaise next to me only to twist and turn until he was able to  stretch out, his head in my lap. "You know, hit a store or two, get a  few pairs of jeans, a few shirts, some socks-."

"You're adorable." I patted his shoulder absently, my attention drifting  back to my phone. "Two teenage girls, one of them pregnant, and two  kids in elementary school. There was no way we were going to be done in a  couple of hours. It's why I didn't argue when you suggested an  overnight trip."

"Still, you could have warned me." He sighed and closed his eyes,  resting one hand on mine, holding it in place. "You're just racking up  one debt after another here, Jeannie Jackson."

"Hmm."

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?" I blinked a few more times, annoyed at the constant switching of internal gears. "What's wrong?"

"That's what I'm asking you." He reached up with his free hand, brushing his fingers over my mouth. "You're frowning."

"No, I'm not." Although I could feel my features shifting in to that  particular expression as we spoke. "And even if I was, I'm not required  to smile all the time, Mr. Hansom."

"Now that's just cruel, calling me that in public when you know what it  does to me." He sat up, propping his chin on my shoulder, waiting until I  turned to face him before continuing. "Something's bothering you and  it's as plain as the stupidly cute nose on your face. I'm asking you to  share with me."

"Abraham." I broke off, shifting my gaze to the ceiling and sighing. I'd  watched enough television and read enough books and had enough human  interaction to know communication was key to any relationship-even one  which may or may not have technically been a relationship since we'd  never actually said what the hell we were doing. And yet it was a  struggle to not tell him to mind his own damn business and remind him  I'd been solving problems long before I'd stumbled in to his bar and  bed. Huffing out a breath, I said, "Nothing's wrong, not really. I just  need to do some copy editing on some of the articles and it's difficult  to do that kind of work on my phone."

"Because it's labor intensive or because of the size of the screen?"

"Both, and before you say anything, I know I need glasses." I rubbed my  temples, annoyed at myself for being drawn in to conversation when I  should have been working. "I have a prescription, I just haven't had  time to get a pair made."         

     



 

"You know you can do all that on the Internet, right? And have the  glasses shipped directly to your house?" When I scowled at him, he  simply smiled. "Trying to offer helpful suggestions, darlin', and not  crap."

"I need to stop by the office tomorrow for a bit before we leave town,  pick up a few things." Saving the changes I'd made on the document  submitted by one of the new hires-who apparently loved pizza the way I  loved tacos-I slipped my phone in my purse and stretched my legs out in  front of me. "My staff sent most of my stuff to me already but there are  a few things in my office I want to bring back."

"As long as we have room." He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to my  cheek. "I'm pretty sure the kids are doing their best to buy out the  store."

"Don't give them any ideas." Too tired to care about public perception  anymore, I shifted until I was able to rest my head on his shoulder. "If  Kitty buys any stuff for the nursery, we'll have it shipped back home.  If she keeps the baby, that is."

"I'm surprised you were able to convince the Sheriff and the Judge to  let you take her outside the county." He rubbed my arm in long, smooth  strokes, the gesture more comforting than it should have been. "I know  Underwood has always had a soft spot for you but he's a stickler for the  law."

"The only people Sheriff Underwood has a soft spot for are his wife and  kids." When Abraham snorted, I drew back, glaring up at him. "What's  that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, Jeannie. You got away with more in high school than the entire football team combined."

"Because I didn't do anything in high school. I studied and worked and  watched my sister's kids when she was working. I didn't go to a single  football game while I was in high school." Even though I wanted to yell,  I kept my voice calm. Cold. "Or basketball game, although considering  how much the team sucked I wouldn't say that was a bad thing. The only  dance I went to was Senior Prom and we both know how that turned out."

"Jeannie-."

"But let me guess." Despite my intentions, I couldn't quite keep from  raising my voice. "You heard from someone who heard from someone who  heard from someone else that they'd seen me out somewhere doing  something with someone but nobody knew who, right?" My face was on fire  and I told myself the lump of tears in my throat was because I was tired  and stressed and overworked and not because I was disappointed-in him,  for believing the lies and myself for thinking he was different from  everybody else in Cotton Creek. "But since it was Jeannie Jackson, it  had to be true, right?"

"That's not what I meant." He dragged one hand through his hair,  exhaling through clenched teeth, cursing under his breath before  continuing. "You sped a lot, okay? Everybody knew you had a lead foot  but you never got a single ticket because you're right-you didn't do  anything else. So the Sheriff looked the other way and so did all the  deputies."

I wouldn't say my bubble of righteous indignation burst. If there'd been  an actual sound, it was probably closer to the noise a balloon makes  when it deflates too fast. I stared at him for a moment before simply  saying, "Sorry."

"Yeah, you should be."

"Excuse me?" I didn't have to feign shock. "Normally, people accept an apology and move-on. That's the polite thing to do."

"And maybe if I wasn't pissed as hell I'd be able to do that but damn  it, Jeannie." He turned away, bracing his elbows on his knees and  cradling his head in his hands. "You act as if you were the only person  in the world who had a rough time in high school and you weren't, okay?  High school sucked for a lot of people."

"Yes, I'm sure having literally everybody in town fawn over you as if  you were a celebrity or the second coming of Jesus Christ must have been  incredibly difficult." Even if I'd wanted to, I wouldn't have been able  to keep the note of sarcasm out of my voice. "Gosh, I'm so sorry, it  must have been rough knowing you could flat out murder someone and  everybody would either call it or an accident or blame the other  person."

"You don't have a single fucking clue what high school was like for me."  He lifted his head, his face darkening, his features shifting in to  something almost dangerous. "Maybe I didn't have to work to make sure  there was a roof over my head and maybe I always knew when and where my  next meal was coming from and yeah, maybe I had people tripping over  themselves to impress me but it doesn't mean life was easy." He skimmed a  hand over his disheveled hair and huffed out a breath. "I don't want to  have this conversation in public but sooner or later we're going to  have it."         

     



 

"It'll have to be later because I'm a little busy at the moment." I  pasted on a bright smile when Conway wandered over, his arms full of  fabric. "Hey, there. You find something you like?"

"Maybe." He slanted a look at Abraham, clearly considering the other  man. Whatever he saw must have suited him because he nodded once before  stretching out his arms, the indistinct bundle falling in to two  separate dresses, each with a distinct style and color palate. "I dunno  which is gooder."

"Which one is better?" When he nodded, I crooked a finger, beckoning him  forward, turning him so I could wrap an arm around his waist and pull  him up against me. "Well, I don't know. Is it for church or for school?"

"Dunno." He shrugged, snuggling in to me although, I noticed, he still  kept one eye on Abraham. "Mama said I could only wear dresses for play.  Not for other stuff."

"Your mama did the best she could." I swallowed down the lump in my  throat, wondering where all these damn emotions were coming from and how  I could make them stop. "Now, again-do you want to wear it to school or  church?"