And Then He Kissed Me

by Southwick, Teresa

  Abby found she was leaning toward a yes, and it wasn’t his phony threat of physical force. How could she turn him down? He seemed to want to do this and had taken steps to make it happen, including thinking of Sarah. A girl who said no would have to have her head examined.

  “Then in an effort to preserve my dignity, the answer is—okay.” Then she thought of something and said, “What should I wear?”

  “A cocktail dress. This is an occasion for dressing up. I have a special place in mind.”

  She touched his arm, ignoring the tingle in her fingertips. “Thank you, Nick.”

  “No need to thank me. On top of the motivations I listed, there’s one I left out. Ma says I’ve been working too hard and should have some fun. Maybe now she’ll get off my back.”

  She met his gaze and gave him a stern look. “You’re lucky to have her.”

  “That was a joke. Now I’ll leave you to your responsibilities.” He tapped her nose. “I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. Be here. Be ready. Be prepared. No excuses.”

  Chapter Three

  “Oh, Nick—” Words failed Abby.

  They had just been seated at a window table in an exclusive restaurant high above the San Fernando Valley, and she looked down at the lights.

  “You like it?” he asked.

  She smiled at him. “I’d sure hate to be responsible for the electric bill. But yes. It’s wonderful.” She gazed at the sight again. “It takes my breath away.”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  She darted a glance at him and realized he wasn’t looking outside. He was staring at her. Her breath caught for the second time in thirty seconds, and it had nothing to do with the view and everything to do with the intensity in his gaze. He’d never looked at her like that before.

  “Is something the matter?” she asked. “Lipstick on my teeth? Mascara under my eyes? Is the dress wrong?”

  He shook his head. “You look just fine,” he answered.

  “Then why are you staring at me?”

  “It’s just—” He shrugged, a gesture that told her he didn’t have the words. Maneuvering Marchetti always had the words, so this was a noteworthy occasion. Noteworthy good or bad, she wasn’t sure.

  “Just what?” she prompted. A personal compliment from her boss bent her rule. But heck, just for the evening she could relax. Couldn’t she?

  “You don’t look like this at work,” he finished lamely.

  “Does that mean the outfit is okay?” It was the only decent dressy thing she owned. She’d worn the long-sleeved, short-skirted, black, lace-covered sheath to the company Christmas party the year before. Obviously he didn’t remember. She ignored the prick of disappointment. It was better to overlook what you didn’t understand, and couldn’t do anything about even if you did.

  Just then the waiter appeared. “Can I get you something from the bar?”

  Nick ordered a Scotch. Abby asked for a glass of white wine.

  The waiter cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. “Miss, may I see some identification, please?”

  Stunned, Abby reached for her small clutch purse, grateful that she’d thought to bring her driver’s license. She handed it over for his examination. Nodding he said, “I’ll bring your drinks right away.”

  Abby glanced at Nick who had a cat-who-ate-the-canary expression on his face. “Okay,” she said. “I get it. That’s what you whispered to the maître d’ when we walked in.”

  “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “Come clean, Nick. You put him up to asking me for ID.”

  “If this was really your twenty-first birthday, they would have done it on their own. You don’t look much older than Sarah.”

  She wasn’t sure she liked that. “Thanks, I think,” she said ruefully. But his attention to the small detail warmed her heart.

  The waiter returned and placed their drinks in front of them, then slipped away while they leisurely looked at the menu. Nick sipped his Scotch, then rested his forearms on the small circular table. “Why don’t you date, Ab?”

  Where had that question come from and did she really want to answer it? she wondered.

  “How do you know I don’t?” she asked evasively.

  “Sarah gives me a regular update on the trials and tribulations of the Ridgeway sisters. She says you might as well be a nun.”

  “She’s so boy-crazy.” Abby laughed, shaking her head. “In her opinion, anything less than total preoccupation with the opposite sex means you must be convent bait. But I suppose I was the same way at her age.”

  “Sarah says you’re making her wait to go out alone with a guy until she’s sixteen,” he said. “When did you start dating?”

  “Sixteen. And then I couldn’t go out alone. It had to be group activities.” She toyed with the stem of her wineglass, turning it so that the pale liquid caught the candlelight. “At the time, I thought my parents were from the Dark Ages. Now I see their wisdom. But times have changed. Kids grow up much faster today. I worry so about Sarah, and I don’t know if she’ll listen to me. I wish my mom and dad were here.”

  “Two parents and a united front are definitely the way to go, especially when you’re raising a teenager.”

  “Even when the two parents aren’t exactly united,” she said. If the accident hadn’t taken their lives, her parents might have stayed together. If they’d gotten the chance, it was possible they could have worked out their problems. Now Abby would never know. Mostly she’d learned to deal with the guilt of her part in the accident. But every once in a while it snuck up on her.

  “What does that mean?” he asked, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead.

  She shrugged. “Nothing. I love my sister. I want her to have all the advantages I didn’t. I’ll do my best to take care of her all by myself.”

  “Like I said before—you’ve got me, pal. Dial M for Marchetti and I’m there.” He grinned. “I’ll help you keep Sarah in line. But you changed the subject. Why don’t you date?”

  “No time.” She fiddled with the small cocktail napkin beneath her glass. “I had too much to do after Mom and Dad died.”

  “You never went out?” The shock on his face was almost comical. “But you were only eighteen.”

  “I tried a couple of times. But it didn’t work. Too complicated.” She looked out the window, searching for a way to change the subject. “I’d like to discuss this plan I have for the restaurant—”

  “Hold it.” He held up one finger for silence. “Didn’t I explain tonight’s rules?” When she shook her head, he continued. “Then let me do it now. We are friends out for the evening to have fun. There will be no discussion of work. Period.” He sipped his drink. “Now, tell me how dating was complicated.”

  She thought back, dredging up the memories. The problem with dredging was that you brought up a lot of stuff better left stuck in the muck. Like the pain. But she knew there was no point in putting Nick off. When he wanted something, he was like a dog who wouldn’t let go of his favorite bone.

  She’d best get it over with. “First of all, I needed a free period of time that coincided with my date’s.”

  “What else?”

  “I had to find someone to watch Sarah and be able to afford to pay them.”

  “Okay.” There was no emotion in his voice, but he was frowning thoughtfully as if this was a newsflash to him. “I have a feeling there’s more.”

  “I was working, going to school and taking care of my sister. She demanded a lot of time back then. It was pretty traumatic, losing both parents at once.”

  “I can only imagine.” He reached across the table and rested his hand over hers. Wrapping his strong fingers around her own, he brushed a delicate caress across her palm, then squeezed reassuringly.

  She wanted to lose herself in the warmth of that tingle-evoking touch, but warned herself not to go there. He could tell himself from now till next Tuesday that they were buddies out on the town. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—
forget that he was head honcho of the corporation she worked for. And it wasn’t her job she worried about. Nick wouldn’t fire her unless she turned into a psycho-stalking embezzler, who couldn’t assistant-manage her way out of a paper bag. She worried that their relationship would change. Until she could spare the time, there was no point in investing energy in anything that even remotely smacked of fascination, flirtation or infatuation.

  In spite of her fears, she couldn’t bring herself to move her hand away. This was one isolated night that teetered on the edge of magical. It was unlikely that she would ever do this again. What could it hurt to let him hold her hand?

  “Sarah got hysterical if she lost sight of me,” she continued, relaxing a bit. “There just never seemed a perfect time to go out. The few guys who had the courage to ask me eventually got tired of waiting for me to line my ducks up in a perfect row long enough for a fast-food dinner and a movie.” She smiled brightly, hoping it camouflaged the pain. “Finally, they just gave up on me.”

  Time had passed, but apparently not enough. The memory still hurt. The shock of losing her parents. The loneliness when her friends stopped calling because she never had time for them. Working at the restaurant. Waiting tables for dating couples, young people in love. Knowing it couldn’t happen for her.

  Abby had made up her mind to put romance on a back burner until Sarah was in college. That hadn’t happened yet.

  Her tingles grew tingles when Nick gently squeezed her fingers again. “The best things in life are worth waiting for, Ab. Those guys were young and stupid.”

  Either his touch, or her few sips of wine had made her far too warm. She eased her fingers out of his hold and folded her hands, resting them on the table. “Were you ever young and stupid, Nick?”

  His dark, unreadable expression clicked on. “Isn’t everyone?” he asked.

  Answering a question with a question always piqued her curiosity. “I don’t believe you ever made a mistake in your life.”

  “According to who?”

  Again a question instead of an answer. “It’s just an observation. You’re so mature and responsible. You’re the oldest of five. You take care of everyone. Instead of being born with a silver spoon in your mouth, I picture you with a tiny briefcase in your hand. Men like you aren’t prone to impulsive, foolish decisions.”

  “Is that so?”

  Bingo. Third time’s the charm. This line of questioning was getting interesting. She rested her chin on her linked hands and stared at him as she embarked on a fishing expedition. “Your life is perfect. I can’t believe you ever did anything stupid or foolish when you were young.”

  “I got married.”

  Nick couldn’t believe he’d said that. But Abby’s eyes grew wide, so he figured he must have.

  “You’re married?”

  “Not anymore.” He stared back at her for several moments, waiting for her to laugh, waiting for the pain, anger and humiliation to wash over him.

  “Are you going to tell me about it, or just let it hang there?”

  He wasn’t sure why he’d blurted out his secret in the first place. Now that he had, he figured he owed her an explanation. “It was about five years ago, just before we met, when I was opening the restaurant in Phoenix. I hired a woman to hostess. She came highly recommended. For me it was love at first sight.”

  “What about her?”

  “She was involved with someone. But he walked out on her when she discovered she was pregnant.”

  She frowned. “Jerk.”

  “Yeah. She confided in me, and I was crazy about her. I wanted to take care of her and the baby. I proposed and she accepted. We got married in Las Vegas.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “Like the proverbial bad penny, the boyfriend turned up.”

  “A day late and a dollar short.”

  “Something like that. But she took him back.” When Abby opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand. “She felt it would be best to give him a chance, since he was the baby’s father.”

  “So you divorced?”

  He shook his head. He almost wished they had. “It’s worse than that. She had the marriage annulled, as if it had never happened.”

  She stared at him for several moments, absorbing the information. “Good.”

  He stopped twirling his glass and met her gaze. “Good?”

  “Absolutely. If she was too dumb to know what a great guy you are, a guy willing to love her and another man’s baby, then I’m glad she cut you loose. She doesn’t deserve you.”

  “I don’t know about—”

  “She did you a favor. And the annulment means you’re free to marry again in the church.”

  He shook his head. “Not me. I’m a confirmed bachelor.”

  “So this is the reason you haven’t proposed to Madison.”

  Wow, she sure didn’t beat around the bush. But she’d nailed it. Madison was right that their relationship had cooled because of a woman. But it wasn’t Abby.

  “Do you blame me? The height of stupidity would be to make the same mistake again,” he said, the words bitter on his tongue. Every time he thought about settling down, memories of that time gave him a sick feeling in his gut. “Golden boy gets shafted. Then she made it as if it never happened.”

  “I’m sorry you went through that, Nick.” Abby put her hand over his. “But here’s something to think about. You’ve seen the plaque on my wall—What Doesn’t Kill Me Will Make Me Stronger?”

  He nodded, enjoying the feel of her small hand on his. He wondered if this same gesture he’d made moments before had delivered even half the comfort that she was sending his way now. “And your point is?”

  “I’m saving a spot for the companion—When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Lemonade. You’re stronger for having gone through what you did. A weaker man would have curled up and turned his back on women. But you didn’t do that.”

  “No?” Then why did he feel so reluctant to commit? It sure as hell reinforced his conviction to stay a bachelor.

  “No. The experience made you the man you are today—sensitive, caring, loyal, supportive and strong.”

  “Strong like a bull,” he said, raising his arm and flexing his biceps.

  She laughed. “That’s my point. You never lose your sense of humor. So you see, Nick, she might have been young and stupid, but not you.”

  Nick blinked once, then grinned. Abby made him feel ten feet tall. He wasn’t sure why he’d told her this deep, dark ancient history. Maybe because she’d been through hell, and he knew she would understand. Maybe because he wanted to show her that she wasn’t alone, that he’d been kicked in the butt, too. Despite what she thought, his life was far from perfect. Whatever the reason, when the words were out, he’d expected teasing and jokes. Instead, her solid, unwavering support made him feel better.

  “Thanks for listening, Ab.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, a soft smile teasing the corners of her full mouth.

  He’d brought her to dinner, not expecting the evening to be anything out of the ordinary. Boy was he wrong. The problem was, now he was having trouble taking his eyes from her lips, and thinking about how soft they looked.

  But this night was not supposed to be about him. It was her celebration. “Enough about serious stuff. I promised to teach you how to relax and have fun.”

  His sudden grin, so attractive and sexy as sin, made Abby thank the gods that she was sitting down. It disarmed her so instantly and thoroughly that she realized she was way out of her league.

  He continued to smile at her, and the wattage in his expression energized the butterflies in her stomach. It was impossible to think straight or function efficiently when he looked at her like that. Thank goodness he didn’t do it much, and she didn’t see him often at work. She would have been canned a long time ago. Which was as fine a reason as any to keep their relationship status quo.

  She laughed and hoped he didn’t notice it was just this side of shaky
. “Yes, you did promise to teach me about fun. And you’re a wonderful instructor. I’ve had such a good time tonight. I can’t remember when I’ve been so relaxed.” She was babbling, and couldn’t seem to stop. “What more could there possibly be to learn?”

  He stood up. “May I have this dance?”

  “Dance?” That shocked her into semi-muteness. Doggone him. Every time she barely got her boat on a straight and narrow course, he rocked it.

  “Yes, dance. Is there a problem?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just that this is a sort of retrospective celebration. I thought you were talking about a less mature and sophisticated kind of fun.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Water balloons from the balcony. Shaving cream on the windows. Toilet paper the parking attendant. That kind of fun.”

  “I take it you never did that stuff.”

  “No. Did you?”

  “I refuse to answer on the grounds that I’m the boss.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  The band started a ballad. “C’mon, pal. Let’s boogie. Unless you’re afraid to have too much fun.”

  He held out his hand, and Abby knew she couldn’t refuse without an explanation. The only one she had, she wasn’t about to share with him. She put her fingers in his palm. “If you step on my toes, class is dismissed,” she mumbled.

  “Don’t fret, Ab. I promise you’ll enjoy this lesson.” His voice, as deep and smooth and seductive as expensive brandy, made her skin warm from head to toe.

  Dancing with Nick was a bad idea.

  He led her onto the floor where several other couples were gliding in time to the music. Facing her, Nick put his hand on her waist, pulling her close to his muscular length. The fragrance of his aftershave was wonderful, masculine and just plain wow. The next thing she knew, she had a weird nervous sort of feeling in her stomach.

  Then he gripped her hand and started to move in the steps of a waltz. Abby put her hand on his shoulder. It was either that, or let her arm dangle at her side, which would surely earn her some curious stares. Nick held her loosely, but as they circled the floor, their bodies bumped and brushed, sending sparks through her. As more couples joined them, and the area grew crowded, Nick tightened his hold on her, keeping her next to his solid strength. He sort of hunched forward, as if he was surrounding her, protecting her. They were pressed close from chest to knee and Abby could hardly breathe.