Worth the Fall(57)

A smile teased his lips and he couldn’t resist a quick kiss. His sweetheart, who lit up the sheets and burned him from the inside out, couldn’t even say the word. Pressing her head back into the pillow, he held her face in his hands. So damn beautiful. And she had no idea, which made her even more of a puzzle.

“I’m here because I couldn’t stay away.” Then he tried to convey the fullness of his heart with his lips, his tongue. He angled her head and she opened to him as she always did, giving herself over to the kiss and to him.

—

The kids had challenged Matt to a pancake-flipping morning, which had gone well, for the most part. Though every evidence of the resulting chaos had been erased, Abby hadn’t stopped cleaning the kitchen since he’d laid his bag by the front door.

He’d never had a woman avoid him the morning after. That had been his role. Lord knew he wasn’t one to stick around for uncomfortable conversations with the opposite sex. Though that was changing. Abby was a new battlefield turning him into a desperate man.

Matt didn’t blame her for the hard shell around her heart. Someone as sweet as her needed it. Just not with him.

Or maybe she did.

She moved her attentions to the stainless-steel sink. Head down. Hair shielding her face.

He leaned against the counter next to her. “Abby?”

“Hmm?”

“I have to go.”

She scrubbed harder.

“Can you look at me?”

“I’d rather not.”

Damn it. “Are you mad?”

“For what?”

For coming? For leaving? He let out a deep sigh. “Hell, I don’t know.”

“Of course I’m not mad.” She threw him a quick smile, her eyes not coming close to meeting his. “I’m glad you came.”

They’d made love like he was sure no one had ever done in the history of time and she was glad he came?

“Abby.” He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him.

“What? People leave. It’s fine. I’m fine. I tell Angie that all the time.” She shook her head. “She never listens.”

Matt smoothed his thumb over the bottom lip she was worrying between her teeth. She needed to work on her poker face. Her eyes gave her away every time. So damn wary and so determined not to cry.

A scared rabbit, terrified of letting anyone too close. Her own reservations sent her running for cover when things got too intense between them, but he wasn’t going to let her hide. He’d said maybe twenty words in all his morning-afters combined, and now he wanted to make a fucking speech. But what could he say?

I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss and had to touch you again?

I came here so I could go back to my job and hopefully not think about you so much?

That idea had backfired in a major way. And it’d been a lie from the start. He’d come because he wanted to see her. Period.

Being with her, making love to her, was like nothing he’d ever known, nothing he’d even thought existed, and now he had no idea what to say. What the hell did he say to a woman who’d been left all her life when all he did was leave? So, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, long and deep, and said the only thing he could. The only thing he was sure of.

“I’m coming back.”





Chapter 20


“Hi, Abby.” William Stafford met her at the door of an upscale restaurant in downtown Raleigh. “You look lovely,” he said.

“Thank you.” They followed the hostess, sat, and ordered drinks.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

Abby hesitated to say she was also glad. The truth was she wasn’t exactly sure why she’d accepted his invitation. “I’m not sure how much I can help, but I’m happy to try.”

They made small talk, William asking all the socially polite questions—where was she from, where did she go to school. It was all very nice and safe, and she couldn’t help but compare him to Matt. There was nothing hard about William. Fingers perfectly manicured, his eyes a soft gray, watching her attentively from across the table.

William definitely didn’t have that I-could-jump-up-at-any-second-and-save-the-world look about him. She sipped her iced tea and listened to his answers to the same questions.

She’d only talked to Matt a handful of times since he’d left. When she did, it was short. Hey, how are you? How are the kids? He always sounded busy.

His words replayed again and again. I’m coming back. They made her nervous and excited and anxious and scared. Just like the man. And they put her exactly where she’d sworn she’d never be again: waiting for and wanting someone.

She hadn’t returned his call from a couple of days ago, and she couldn’t really say why. Probably because you’re a coward. She’d picked up the phone a hundred times, but…the more she ached to hear his voice, the more she fought the urge. He hadn’t called again.