Angie made a frustrated sound in her throat. “You make me angry.”
“I know. You tell me all the time.” Abby studied the plastic trash can. There was no point in fantasizing about things that would never happen.
Angie wrapped her in a hug. “I just want you to be happy, honey.”
“I know, and I am happy.”
Angie released her and pulled back. “You could be happier.”
Sure. Couldn’t anyone? “I’m perfectly happy with my level of happiness.”
“Just keep telling yourself that,” Angie said with a smile and pushed against the door.
But Abby wasn’t smiling. Tomorrow would be their last day. Whatever they had, whatever connection she felt, would disappear like a wet footprint on the wooden boardwalk. Then she’d go back to her safe, happy life. What Angie didn’t get was, being alone could be a good thing. No more waiting for a man to walk through the door. No more being left behind. No more wondering if she’d ever be enough to make someone stay.
—
Matt didn’t know exactly when it had happened. Maybe the moment he’d held her in his arms under the bucket spill, or maybe it was the culmination of many moments over the past five days. But at some point everything inside him had shifted. Abby had gone from the kind of woman he’d want if he ever settled down to the woman. The kids were so much more than just cute reminders of his nieces and nephews.
“Well, that answers one question.”
“Huh?” Matt grunted at Joe’s interruption.
“A man who looks that forlorn when a woman goes to the bathroom has it bad.”
Matt didn’t answer, not that it had been a question. His thoughts obviously showed on his face, which was disconcerting, but not nearly as much as what was going on in his heart.
Joe glanced behind him at the kids in the neighboring booth then glared at Matt across the table. “Abby’s not the kind of woman you play with.”
“I know that.” The thought of someone playing with her put Matt in a killing mood.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking.” Joe gestured at Matt with his drink. “But I’ll warn you now not to hurt her.”
Matt didn’t appreciate a warning from this guy, but he did like that Abby had friends looking out for her. She needed it. “You don’t have to worry.” After tomorrow I won’t have the chance.
Joe made a sound into his drink like he didn’t believe him. “Well, just make sure that you don’t.”
They finished eating in silence, Matt intently watching the bathroom door. Abby finally emerged. Their eyes met and she gave him that smile he liked to think was reserved for him.
Damn. He wanted the right to protect her, to make threats like Joe had. Although his would not be nearly as civil.
Abby stopped beside the table. “Ready to go?”
Matt and Joe had already taken care of the check, so he stood and together they gathered up bags and kids.
It was after seven, the sky dark with incoming rain clouds. They walked across the parking lot to where he’d parked the car almost twelve hours ago. Joe sent him a narrow-eyed stare that probably had to do with Matt’s proprietary hand on Abby’s lower back. Not that he was going to move it.
He unlocked the doors and aired out the car while Abby said her goodbyes. Matt was working Charlie’s arms through the straps when Abby appeared on the other side of the car to help Gracie.
“You know your way around car seats,” she said.
They finished and he slid into the front seat beside her. “Yeah, well, it’s a lot like strapping in for a jump.”
Her mouth hung open in an O shape. “You mean like out of a plane?”
Matt started the car and grinned. There was nothing like the rush you got from a high-altitude low-opening jump from thirty thousand feet. Except maybe looking into Abby’s eyes. He got that same free-fall feeling then too. “Yes, but I did do an afternoon of pickup duty for my brother once. Took every logistics skill I have. Two schools, three different car lines, dance, snacks, karate. Mission impossible.”
She laughed and the sound washed over him, warming him. He wanted to hear it more. Ached to be the reason for it.
Leaning her head back against the seat, she closed her eyes. “You just described my life.”
They drove through traffic back to the resort, a light rain tapping on the windshield. The backseat group was quiet except for Gracie’s soft humming. He glanced at Abby’s profile. She was tired. Hell, he was tired and he wasn’t in the process of making a baby.
An uncomfortable feeling worked its way into his chest. He’d never been concerned with how much time he had left with a woman. He reached over the console and covered Abby’s hand with his, lacing their fingers. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together.