Her stomach curled with regret. She had always hated goodbyes. “I should go,” she said softly. “Thanks for stopping by.”
“I was hoping you might invite me up to your room.”
And there it was again. The insidious temptation that made a mockery of all her grown-up plans.
What could it hurt, the devil on her shoulder whispered.
He’ll break your heart, said her conscience.
Five seconds passed. Then ten. “I have a very early flight, Carter. And I haven’t finished packing. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t react visibly to her polite refusal, but he straightened and took her hand, reeling her in with ease, since she had no intention of protesting.
His mouth settled on hers, his lips firm and masculine. She breathed in his scent, trying to memorize it. He tasted of cinnamon and coffee.
“Don’t forget about me, Abs, while you’re gone,” he muttered. “I’ll miss you.”
Her eyes stung with tears. “I’ll miss you, too.”
He kissed her again. This one almost took her down. It wasn’t him she was resisting; it was her own yearning. At last, he let her go. “Keep in touch, Abby. I want to know how you’re doing.”
“I will,” she promised.
He opened her car doors, put her gear in the back seat and then leaned down to watch her fasten her seat belt as he closed her in. “Do you need a ride to the airport?”
“No, thanks. I’ll be turning in the rental car.”
“Ah, yes.”
Her window was lowered, letting out the heat that accumulated even at this hour. He had a hand on the sill. She put her fingers over his. “Bye, Carter. Thanks for everything.”
Then she put the car in gear and drove away, looking in the rearview mirror only once to see him standing tall and alone in the club parking lot.
Twelve
Abby’s father met her at the airport. He was a tall, barrel-chested Black man with kind eyes and a gentle sense of humor. Though they had lived on opposite coasts for most of her life, she had always known that he would drop everything and come to her if she ever needed him.
Her dad negotiated the horrible traffic without flinching. He truly was a Californian after all these years. They stopped at Abby’s favorite seafood restaurant before heading on to the house. Over lunch, she brought up a subject that had been occupying her mind recently.
“Daddy, when you and Mom first separated, did you know you were doing the right thing?”
He seemed surprised, but he answered readily enough. “Yes. We both did. The hard part was how much I adored you. We wanted to stay together for your sake, but we knew it couldn’t work. Sometimes people come into our lives for a season, Abby. Your mother and I were very happy for a time, but life shifted us onto different paths.”
“I understand.” She didn’t. Not really. It was hard for her to imagine loving someone and then not loving them.
That was the last of the personal conversation, even during the drive to the coast. She sensed the introspection made him uncomfortable. After she was settled into her old bedroom, they met out on the back veranda overlooking the Pacific. Her father had done very well in his career. His neighbors up and down this stretch of Malibu were actors and producers and other luminaries.
Though the land had increased in value over the years, her father’s house was relatively modest. He had no interest in redecorating or following fashion trends. Right now, Abby was grateful. It was comforting to know that some things stayed the same.
They watched the sun go down.
She worked up her courage and took the plunge. “Daddy?”
“Hmm?”
“What would you think if Mom and I came out for Labor Day and stayed with you? Just the three of us.”
He’d been watching the water; now he turned to face her. “I have no problem with that, baby girl. I’ve always told you that your mother is welcome here. Is something going on with you?”
“No. Not really. I just thought it would be nice for the three of us to get together. Now that I’m an adult, too.”
“It will depend on your mother,” he said with a wistful smile. “You know how stubborn she is. I’m sure she’d rather do a get-together like that on her turf.”
“True. Well, I’ll ask her, and let you know.”
Afterward, her father excused himself to go make a work-related phone call. His state-of-the-art studio was upstairs. For the next couple of days, she knew that the two of them would bond over her fledgling movie.
For now, she lingered to enjoy the stars and the sultry ocean breeze.
What was Carter doing tonight? She regretted not letting him stay with her the evening before, but it would only have made things harder. He was wrapping himself around her heartstrings without even trying.
Her father rarely asked about her personal life. Maybe because he didn’t want any questions in return. They loved each other, but certain lines were never crossed.
In many ways, her relationship with her mother was the same. Abby loved her parents and had always known that she was loved unconditionally in return. But her family was different than Carter’s. Very different.
However, as much as Abby had yearned for a “normal” family while growing up, she knew how lucky she was.
The long weekend passed in a blur. Her father had a keen eye for visual storytelling. Though he was always quick to point out that it was her project, her baby, the suggestions he made for her documentary were spot-on.
By the time he put her on a plane for New York, she was ecstatic at how the film was coming together. And more confident, too. If this project turned out as well as she was expecting it to, she would be on her way to a promising career.
She was already almost regretting the flight to New York. It wouldn’t have been a big deal to simply fly from LA to Royal. Still, even though this would be a super short visit, she wanted to swap out some of her clothes, and she also hoped to talk to her mother about Carter. If the right moment arose.
Her flight landed on time Monday afternoon. Abby took a cab from LaGuardia to Manhattan. She and her mother lived in a high rise on a quiet block of East 77th Street. Abby had never questioned her mother’s finances. There was money from Abby’s grandparents. And she was certain her father had paid child support. Beyond that, she only knew that she and her mother lived a very comfortable life.
When she took the elevator to the tenth floor and unlocked the door, her mother wasn’t home. No real surprise. But for the first time, the apartment’s quiet emptiness struck her as a little sad.
What would it be like when Abby moved out for good? Did her mother have any desire for grandchildren? Some women didn’t.
Abby did some laundry and rifled through her closet to repack her suitcase. On a whim, she folded a beautiful, fire-engine red evening dress and added it to the pile. Lila had mentioned the possibility of some special events surrounding the festival kickoff. Abby wanted to be ready.
It was hard to admit that in the back of her mind, she was already picturing herself wearing that sexy dress for Carter. Days ago, he had asked her to stay in touch. But she hadn’t known what to say. When he didn’t text either during their time apart, she had assumed he was busy or distracted or both.
Or maybe he had decided a clean break was the best.
Abby picked up her phone and stared at the screen. She had lots of emails and texts, but not the one she so desperately wanted.
Her fingers had a mind of their own. Quickly, she composed a message before she could change her mind.
Hey, Carter... I’m in New York now. My dad was super helpful with my film. We enjoyed catching up. Hope things are good at Sunset Acres...
It was a breezy, nonpersonal text. She almost deleted it, but then she sucked in a breath and hit Send.
Now that she was far away fro
m Royal, it seemed almost ludicrous that she had indulged in an exhilarating, short-lived affair with a sexy, rugged Texan. The list of things they didn’t have in common was depressingly long.
Had he already forgotten about her? Had she been an easy mark to him?
It was painful to consider. She honestly thought he was as caught up in the magic as she was. But maybe she was kidding herself.
Her beautiful, stylish, blond-haired mother made it home at six and brought food from Abby’s favorite Chinese restaurant. Both her parents spoiled her when she was around. It was nice, but despite being twenty-four years old, Abby was in that odd stage between being a college student and a fully grown adult.
In any other place in the country, she might already have her own apartment by now. New York’s cost of living was exorbitant, though, and her mother had often said Abby was welcome to use this apartment as home base for as long as she needed it.
Over a combo meal of various chicken and rice dishes, Abby mentally rehearsed how she was going to present the Labor Day idea. Something about the prospect of having her mom and dad together in Malibu, with her, excited Abby. Was she re-creating a childhood fantasy? A time she barely remembered?
Her motives were murky.
Before she could make her pitch, her mother set down her glass of wine and gave Abby a nervous smile. “I’m glad you’re here, sweetheart. I have something I need to tell you, and I didn’t want to do it over the phone.”
Abby was alarmed. “Are you sick?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that.” Her mother fiddled with her chopsticks. “The thing is... I’ve met someone. A nice man who works in the financial district. He came in to have a painting appraised, and we hit it off. He asked me out to dinner, and well...things snowballed. He’s asked me to move in with him.”
“Mom!” Abby gaped, her brain swirling. “How long ago was this?”
“Back in February. You’ve been traveling a lot, and I didn’t want to say anything until I knew if it was going anywhere.”
Abby was shocked to the core. She didn’t remember her mother ever dating anyone, which now that she thought about it was highly unlikely. Maybe her mom had been discreet for Abby’s sake. Or maybe she had put her personal life on hold until her daughter was old enough to fend for herself.
“I’m happy for you, Mom. Really.”
Her mother beamed. “I’d love for you to meet him, but I suppose it will have to be when you’re finished with that festival project. August, maybe?”
“I’d like that.”
“And about this apartment...”
“You should sell it,” Abby told her. “I’ll find a place. Don’t worry about me.”
Her mother grimaced. “I’m not going to rush into marriage. I’d rather you keep the apartment for now. That way, if things don’t work out for me, I won’t end up looking for some place to live.”
“Are you unsure about this relationship? Is that it?”
Her mother’s face glowed. “Oh, no. Not at all. Bradley is a wonderful man. We have fun together. And we laugh a lot. But I failed at marriage once. It’s made me gun-shy, I guess. For now, I just want to enjoy his company and see what happens.”
Half a dozen emotions buffeted Abby. Time never stood still. Her parents had been divorced for almost two decades, but this new development felt like a threat. That was dumb. After all, Abby wasn’t a child anymore. Her mother deserved to be happy.
Clearly, there would be no mini family reunion in Malibu.
Her eyes burned. “Tell this Bradley person that he’s found a jewel. I love you, Mom. This is wonderful news.”
They both stood. Hugged tightly.
A few moments later, Abby put her dishes in the dishwasher and threw away the take-out cartons. “I need some exercise after sitting on a plane forever. You want to come with me? A walk in the park, maybe? It’s too hot to run.”
Her mother shook her head. “Thanks, sweetie. But I have some work to do, and Bradley will probably call in a bit. Will you be okay on your own?”
“Of course.”
Abby changed clothes and went downstairs. Out on the pavement, the heat was oppressive. Instead of her usual three-mile run, she decided to walk the streets.
New York was home. She loved the hustle and bustle and even the crowds in Times Square. The city was huge and vibrant, and always open. Where else could you get a doughnut and coffee at 2:00 a.m.? Or a pizza.
The clothes shopping and the bookstores energized her. She found entertainment in the trendy boutiques and the high-end fashion empires that might not have what she wanted or needed, but were fun to explore anyway. Everything about the city of her birth was part of her DNA.
Yet, for the first time, she felt something was missing. Sex with Carter was great, but she yearned to hear his laugh. To enjoy his droll sense of humor. Her day felt empty and flat without him.
What did that mean? Was she in too deep?
She lost track of how far she walked. Surrounded by strangers, she nevertheless felt completely at home. Alone, but not lonely.
When it was time to head back, she was no closer to making a decision. Truthfully, there was no decision to make. If she wanted to sleep with Carter Crane a few more times, she could do that. He’d be happy to oblige. She was sure of it.
Why did she have to get swept off her feet by a man who lived several hundred miles away? As much as she cared for him, why indulge in something that had no future?
It was a question with no answer. Or at least not one she wanted to hear.
Even worse, Carter had never responded to her text. What did that mean? Was he done with her?
Tuesday flew by. Abby had lunch with a couple of friends. They had known each other since the beginning of high school and always managed to pick up right where they left off. Abby wanted to tell them about Carter, but she felt self-conscious. She wasn’t in a relationship with him. Just because he had seen her naked, and she was crazy about him didn’t mean anything was going to come of it. Carter was Carter, and Abby was Abby.
They were great in bed, but morning always came.
After lunch, she stopped in at a high-end outdoor adventure store and picked out a small tent and the most basic of camping supplies. Her family had never done the camping thing, but Abby was certain she could make it through one night in the relative wilds of Appaloosa Island. Shooting at dawn was one of her passions. The morning light made cinema magic.
She plunked down her credit card and paid an ouch-worthy premium for two-day delivery to Texas. As the day passed, she grew more anxious about returning to Royal. Would Carter expect to see her again? And could she handle seeing him again now that she was at least being honest with herself about her feelings?
Abby and her mother went out for dinner that evening. They even dressed up and made a celebration of it. The meal was fun and delicious and just like old times.
But the world was turning, and life was changing. Abby had to change along with it whether she wanted to or not.
Wednesday morning, her mother gave her a tight hug before heading off to work. “We’ll make a date for August,” she said. “Whenever you know your plans and your schedule for coming home. I’m glad the documentary is going so well.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Abby hugged her again. “Bradley had better treat you right, or he’ll have to answer to me.”
Her mother laughed, her face alight with happiness. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”
After the door closed, Abby had half an hour to kill before her rideshare arrived. She stood at the living room window and looked beyond the nearest buildings to the slice of Central Park she could see.
It would be hard to find a view more different from the one in her memories of Royal, Texas.
She wasn’t a weepy woman, but she felt alarmingly emotional. What had happened to her? Why was she drawn
back to a Texas town with red dirt and no subway system? Lots of cows, but no Broadway.
The ostensible reason was her project about Soiree on the Bay. That much was true. But she wouldn’t lie, even to herself. Her documentary had made room on the shelf for something, or someone, equally important. Carter Crane. Abby’s feelings for him went far beyond the physical.
How could she be falling for a man who was so wrong for her?
At the airport, she boarded the jet, unable to ignore the undercurrent of excitement she felt. By dinnertime, she would be back on Carter’s home turf. The hotel had even blocked the same room she had been in last week. Lila’s recent text said everything was a go for the overnight campout on Appaloosa Island.
The festival dates were fast approaching. Abby had a lot to accomplish before then. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t afford to fool around with Carter all the time. She had to focus on her task.
Unfortunately, today’s flight itinerary had two different connections, first Atlanta, then Dallas. By the time the plane finally landed in Royal, it was almost dinnertime.
Abby felt let down when there was no one at the airport to greet her. Which made no sense at all, because she hadn’t told anyone her plans. Had she actually been hoping for a big, romantic scene where Carter met her at baggage claim and swore they could juggle all their differences?
She snorted inwardly as she waited for her luggage. There was a reason she produced documentaries instead of rom-coms. Her subjects were framed in truth, not romantic fiction. She controlled the outcome, not the notoriously capricious whims of fate.
By the time she made it to the hotel, her stomach grumbled loudly. She checked in, threw her things in the room, brushed her teeth, fluffed her hair and then headed out again. She didn’t want room service, and she didn’t want to eat in the hotel dining room alone. Not tonight.
Fortunately, there was a great pizza place down the street.
The elevator moved far too slowly. Or maybe Abby’s patience was shot. That was the trouble with air travel. It took all day to make a little progress.
When she stepped into the beautifully appointed hotel lobby, the first person she saw was Carter. He was leaning against a column, dressed in dark slacks and wearing a snow-white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and cowboy boots.
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