Southern Comforts

by Nan Dixon

  Michael dragged himself into the kitchen, and she forced a smile on her face. “Good morning.”

  “What’s good about it?”

  “Ah, Michael, and you being a good Irish boy. Happy St. Paddy’s Day to you.”

  He snatched up a mug like it was a lifesaver and he was drowning. Pouring a cup of coffee, he inhaled half of it.

  She winced. It was so hot he must have scalded his tongue.

  “We were swamped at the restaurant last night. I didn’t get home until two and got up at six.” Michael whipped an apron around his waist and knotted it with sharp movements. “When will you open Southern Comforts? I want to work for you full-time.”

  “We’ll get there.” Unfortunately, the timing was out of her control.

  Michael perused the menu she’d posted. She didn’t have to tell him what to work on. He heated up the flattop and laid out bacon strips.

  As she cracked eggs, Abby worked through her to-do lists. Samuel had left a voice mail message saying that they wouldn’t be able to work on the third floor of Fitzgerald House for two weeks. What she wouldn’t give to be Forester Construction Company’s most important client. That would be Mr. Money, Gray.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can wait, Abs.” Michael touched her shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. “I’m interviewing for a sous chef position in Atlanta next week.”

  Abby’s stomach flopped. She’d always assumed Michael would work with her at her restaurant. Their personalities and passions meshed well in the kitchen.

  “Good luck,” she whispered. She couldn’t catch a break.

  * * *

  GRAY PEEKED INTO the sunroom and swore. He’d given Abby a day to recover and calm down. But he wanted her to know that he wasn’t at fault here.

  Time to find her. He checked the kitchen. Not there. He checked the garden, her office, the library. Where in hell was she hiding?

  “Why aren’t you wearing green, Gray?”

  He turned. Abby. Finally. She came down the stairs, and his tense fists relaxed. Weight lifted from his shoulders. “I don’t do the green thing.”

  He wanted to touch her. No, he had to touch her. Her green shirt matched her eyes. That sunset hair floated down her back. All he wanted to do was tug her into his arms and breathe in the scent he’d been missing for a day and a half. Unfortunately, she was giving him her impersonal smile. He hated that smile.

  He moved next to her, but she ducked behind the reception desk.

  She pulled out green bead necklaces. “Here. For you and your family and...friend.”

  He tried to hand them back, but Abby was already hurrying down the hall to the kitchen.

  Rushing to catch up, he called, “We need to talk.”

  He reached for her hand. She jerked away from him as if she’d been burned. “I have a lot to do today.”

  “You have been avoiding me.” Pressure settled on his chest. “Why?”

  “I’m busy.” She pushed through the kitchen door. “I have a business to run.”

  “Abby.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “This isn’t working.”

  “I don’t care about Gwen,” Gray sputtered.

  She whipped her hair back into a messy bun that he wanted to pull apart. “This isn’t about your ex.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “Then, what is this about?”

  She stared at him with pain-filled emerald eyes. “I wasn’t important enough to mention to your family.”

  Her quiet words erected more barriers than any of his work crews ever had.

  “That’s not fair.” Panic seemed to burst inside him. “You haven’t told your family, either. You’re the one who wanted to keep everything a secret.”

  “I know.” Abby set a massive pot on the stove. “It’s so sad. Neither of us cared enough about each other to tell our families. If we had, your family wouldn’t have put your ex through this misery.”

  He wasn’t so sure that Courtney and Gwen wouldn’t have tried anyway.

  She grabbed large packages of meat from the fridge, then pulled a knife from the drawer and started trimming the fat.

  Abby kept working. She wouldn’t even stop long enough to talk about what they’d meant to each other. Didn’t what they’d had together mean more than her work?

  Hell, no. Her number one priority was Fitzgerald House. Maybe his anger wasn’t fair, but right now he was raw.

  Somehow he had to make her understand they weren’t done.

  He pulled her away from the counter. “I didn’t know how to describe what was happening between us. Just because I was stupid—we were stupid—doesn’t mean we’re through.”

  “Gray.” She shook her head. “It’s over.”

  “No.”

  “It doesn’t matter now.” She pushed away from him, stepping back to her counter with a sad smile. “After the holiday, I’ll serve your dinner in the dining room.”

  “No.”

  She sliced into the meat. “Yes.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’re that afraid of me? You can’t even eat in the same room with me?”

  “It will make things easier.” A quaver filled her voice.

  Gray moved behind her, close enough that the warmth of her body linked them together.

  She jerked away, but not quickly enough.

  He set his hands on her rigid shoulders. “We screwed up. So we’re not perfect.”

  He turned her around. A single tear slid down her cheek, and she ducked her head.

  He tugged the knife out of her hand and laid it on the counter.

  “It’s better this way,” she said. “We’re not right for each other.”

  His shoulders stiffened. For once in his life he’d felt as if he’d fit. Didn’t she see that? “I don’t agree.”

  “This won’t work.” She shook her head. “It’s time to give up.”

  Maybe she was right.

  But knowing he should back away didn’t make him drop his arms. Instead, he hugged her. “That would be the smart move.”

  And he was always smart. Except around Abby. He cradled her face.

  “So we’re agreed?” Her voice cracked. “We’re through?”

  He shook his head. “I...can’t stay away from you.”

  “But...”

  “Give us another chance,” he said.

  She rested her forehead against his chest. “I don’t understand this.”

  “Neither do I. But here’s what I know—I’ve missed you.” Gray lifted her head with his finger and kissed away her tears.

  “I’ve missed you, too.” She sighed. “But I didn’t want to miss you.”

  Ouch. “So we’re good?”

  She stared into his eyes.

  He held his breath, afraid she would reject him. What else could he barter—something for Fitzgerald House? The printer hadn’t gone over well.

  “We’re...” She closed her eyes. “We’re good.”

  He exhaled.

  Their kiss ignited like dry kindling on a hot summer day. He devoured her mouth. His hand brushed and cupped her full breast, and she moaned.

  When he opened his eyes, everything looked brighter, more vivid.

  “I missed your smile.” He nestled her against him, relief washing through him. “This is better, much better.”

  She nodded.

  Taking a deep breath, he said, “Tonight I’d like to introduce you to my family.”

  * * *

  ABBY TESTED THE lamb stew and added a little more thyme. Her mamma had started serving St. Paddy’s Day dinner at Fitzgerald House, and Abby had continued her mother’s tradition. The B and B guests wouldn’t have to fight the throngs of people who’d invaded Savannah for spots in
restaurants.

  Once the entrees were being served, she went to her apartment and changed. If she was officially meeting Gray’s family, she’d make sure they wouldn’t mistake her for a maid. She changed into a pale green silk skirt and blouse and added thin silver bracelets and matching earrings.

  By the time she entered the dining room, Amy and Bess were serving the Baileys chocolate-mousse pie. Abby grabbed a coffeepot and circled the room, topping up people’s cups.

  Gray and his parents sat at a table near the crackling fire. Gray’s ex and his sister sat at another nearby. It was petty, but Abby was happy the ex and Gray weren’t sitting together.

  She topped off Gray’s coffee with decaf, her fingers resting on his back. Her hand didn’t shake, but inside she quivered like unmolded gelatin.

  “Dinner was fantastic, as usual.” Gray took Abby’s hand and kissed it. “Mother, Dad, this is Abigail Fitzgerald, B and B owner and chef extraordinaire. And the woman I told you I’ve been seeing.”

  His dad smiled. Mrs. Smythe swallowed the pie she’d just put in her mouth.

  From the other table, Gwen let out a weak sob.

  The Jell-O in her stomach started to dance. Hadn’t Gray warned his ex?

  Abby stepped back, but Gray stood and laced their fingers firmly together.

  “Gray hasn’t stopped singing your praises.” His mother’s tone was cool.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw Bess moving toward the group. Her sister’s eyes were as big as winter pansies. Bess pointed between Abby and Gray, a questioning look in her eyes.

  Abby shot her a weak smile. Luckily, most of the guests were focused on their own meals.

  Bess grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. Then mouthed, We’ll talk. The sister cell phone circuit would be sizzling tonight.

  “Oh, Gray.” Gwen stood. Her manicured hand covered her mouth. “Did you have to flaunt her in front of me?”

  “Gwen, we talked about this earlier.” Gray’s mouth formed a straight line. “I didn’t do this to hurt you.”

  Courtney jumped up from her table and wrapped an arm around Gwen’s shoulders. She glared at her brother. “You can be such a jerk.” The two women rushed out of the dining room.

  Mrs. Smythe stood. “Since I agreed to bring Gwen down here, I’d better see what I can do.”

  All the women in Gray’s life had run away the minute he’d told them they were together. Abby wanted to disappear, too.

  “Dinner was delicious,” Mr. Smythe told her. “Your B and B is delightful. Sorry we had to add drama to this weekend.” Gray’s dad bundled up his napkin and dropped it on the table. He smiled at Abby, a tired smile. “It was nice to meet you.”

  Gray pushed out a sigh and leaned his head against hers. “That went well.”

  “In what universe?” Abby let out a forced laugh. “Now your family hates me.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Abby didn’t believe him. Her family had her back—always. Family was everything.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Rule #21—Whenever possible meet the guests’ needs and wants before they can voice them.

  Abby Fitzgerald

  “THAT WAS MESSIER than it should have been.” Gray held open the kitchen door. “I warned Gwen. I think she just wanted sympathy.”

  Abby shook her head. “I don’t want you at odds with your family because of me.”

  Their footsteps echoed in the courtyard. The fountain sparkled in the moonlight, the water splashing in a gentle song. The garden’s flowery perfume wrapped around them.

  He tightened his arm around her shoulder and felt her muscles relax. “They’ll get over it.”

  “Family is everything.”

  “My family’s...not quite like yours.” Hadn’t his dad all but suggested he marry Gwen because of her connections? “They shouldn’t have pulled this stunt and ruined the weekend for everyone.”

  He stopped at the edge of the garden. “My mother will come around. She doesn’t control who I date.” If she did, he’d be married to Gwendolyn by now.

  She sighed. “I feel sorry for Gwen.”

  “Don’t. She should never have come.” He looked at the carriage house. “Why haven’t you invited me into your place?”

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “You’re too tempting.”

  “Tempting?” He pulled her into a kiss. Abby’s spicy scent washed over him, and his body came to attention. His teeth nibbled on the lip she always chewed.

  Her tongue brushed his and stoked flames through his body.

  He cupped her face. “I really missed you.”

  “I was too busy to miss you,” she whispered.

  “Liar.” Gray brushed his lips against her cheek, her throat, and nuzzled his way to the sensitive skin where her neck and shoulders met.

  She shivered.

  He pulled her hips tight against him. “Are you going to invite me in?”

  Gray kissed her, not waiting for an answer. She tasted of chocolate and spice and that unique flavor that was all Abby.

  “Abby.” He gasped. “Invite me up.”

  Her head dropped to his chest. “I want to...”

  “Wanting is enough for now.”

  Gray threaded their fingers together and tugged. They raced up the carriage house stairs.

  “We haven’t made too many improvements to this building. Just some work on this apartment.”

  Was she telling him the place wasn’t furnished? He wanted to get her into a bed, any bed. He didn’t care what it looked like.

  “I needed to live nearby.” Her teeth chattered as if she was cold.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked.

  Abby pulled a key from her pocket, but her hands shook too much to unlock the door.

  He took her key and had the door open before she could ask for help.

  She put a hand on his shoulder and looked up at him. Her green eyes were too solemn. “I... It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone.”

  “I’m feeling the pressure to make this memorable.” He kissed her. Poured all his need into the kiss, and her knees gave way.

  With a grin, he swung her up into his arms and kicked the door closed. “Which way?”

  “I can walk.” She tossed back her head and laughed.

  “Not tonight.”

  He ignored the dimly lit front room. At the end of a hallway he bumped open a door with his hip and found her bedroom.

  Sheer white drapes hung from the frame of the four-poster bed. The drapes and a snowy white comforter glowed in the moonlight. The scent of the garden drifted in through the open window.

  Gray laid her in the middle of the massive bed. Her red-gold hair glowed against the bedspread. He stood back and stared.

  She sat up. “What?” Her voice shook.

  “I like looking at you.” He kicked his shoes off and knelt on the bed next to her. Slowly, he slipped off her sandals.

  “I’ve been thinking about this for a while.” His hands moved up her calves, and she jolted. “So if you don’t mind, I’m going to take my time.”

  Abby leaned back on her elbows, those mysterious eyes wide-open. Her breath came in short bursts. She licked her lips, and his body pulsed.

  He needed that mouth, but he wanted her naked. Dilemmas, dilemmas.

  First things first. Get Abby naked.

  He pulled her up until she was kneeling in front of him.

  With that delicious mouth so close, he needed a taste, so he kissed her.

  Abby’s clever fingers were working on his shirt buttons. “I know it’s been a while, but I remember it’s a lot more fun without clothes.”

  “I keep getting distracted.” While he pressed kisses to her collarbone,
he found the buttons on her blouse. Under the silk was a white lace bra that barely concealed her breasts.

  He lifted her so she straddled his legs. Then he ran his tongue under the lace. His hand tested and shaped her breasts. When her breath choked, he sucked her nipple into his mouth. “God, you taste good.”

  Their arms tangled as she tried to push off his shirt, and he wrestled with unfastening her bra.

  Pants and skirt were scattered. He pushed her back and explored her hips and the tiny V of lace between her legs.

  “Come back up here,” she pleaded.

  “Not yet.” He wanted to drive her crazy before they made love.

  He reached up and rolled her nipples, plucking and massaging until she moaned. Her hands fluttered as she tried to stroke him.

  “No, no, no.” Gray moved out of her reach. He tested the shape of her belly button with his tongue. He used his teeth on her hip bones and finally tore off her panties.

  “I want to taste you.” And he did, shooting her almost off the mattress.

  * * *

  HE WAS DRIVING her mad. Each touch, each kiss, each word. She trembled under his onslaught and moaned his name.

  He spread her legs farther apart.

  “I want you inside me,” she gasped. “Now.”

  He swore. “Condom. Damn, I almost forgot.” He bounced off the bed, and the jingle of coins filled the room.

  “Where were we?” he asked.

  “Right about here.” She reached down, stroking and positioning him at the entrance to her body.

  He kissed her, explored her mouth, but didn’t push into her body.

  “Gray. Please.”

  He slid in, just an inch, one marvelous inch.

  “More.” She grabbed his butt, trying to pull him deeper.

  He barely moved. He held himself rigid above her.

  She tried to adjust, to open herself, hoping he’d feel her need.

  He inched in, the friction setting her body on fire. Slow, so damn slow. She rocked, helping him stretch her, join with her.

  “Ah.” Gray’s grin gleamed in the moonlight. “You feel so good.”

  She ran her hands along the hard muscles of his back. “So do you, mercy, so do you.”

  She rolled her hips, trying to entice him to move. He stared down at her through dark blue eyes.