He was pretty sure she felt the same way. He’d seen the anxiety in her eyes after they’d finished playing in the snow, just before going back inside. She was afraid to be alone with him. But probably for different reasons.
He’d bet galoshes to snowshoes that she was completely innocent. He wanted her, more than he’d wanted any woman, and the ache was getting worse all the time. But she had never been with a man and that above everything would keep him in check. He had no intention of taking advantage of her. Getting her out into public places seemed the best way to put her at ease. He was starting to worry some about their chaperone squad.
He couldn’t figure out what was keeping Joe, Alex and Luke. The weather had cleared. The roads were safe. The phone and message machine at the cabin were plugged in and operational. They hadn’t received any word on his brothers’ estimated time of arrival. He figured they’d probably just gotten a late start. No doubt when he and Abby returned to the cabin, the place would be crawling with Marchettis.
In the meantime, he could wine and dine her and make her feel special. His need for her would no doubt pick up speed like an avalanche, but his brothers presence would dig him out. It was sort of like walking a tightrope with a net.
When the waiter brought his beer and her wine, he ordered dinner for both of them without asking for menus.
A frown marred the smooth skin of her forehead, but she didn’t say anything until after the waiter walked away.
“Nick, it makes me nervous when I don’t see a menu.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Easier said than done. I’d like to know how many dishes I’ll have to wash before they let me leave.”
He frowned. “No one’s washing dishes, and you’re not leaving—at least not until you’ve had dinner.”
“What are you saying, Nick?”
“That you were right. There is a lot of loot in linguine.” He took a sip of his beer. “And I intend to spend some of it on you tonight.”
“I can’t let you pay for everything. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Why not? It’s what a guy usually does for his date.”
Her hand froze as she reached for her wine. “Date?”
“Yeah. A guy. A girl. A movie. Dinner. It has all the essential elements.”
“Not all. You need a guy and a girl who are looking to get serious.”
“Not necessarily. It’s when a guy and a girl try each other out to see if they want to get serious. Your education in this area is sadly lacking, Ab.”
“I don’t dispute that. But my vocabulary is pretty good. And I can’t call this a date. I don’t do that”
“So you’ve said. But just so you recognize it in the future, this is what it feels like.”
She shook her head. “You can dangle the carrot, but it’s not in my foreseeable future.”
“You might want to re-think that.”
“I don’t have time—”
He took her hand in his. “The guys you knew had to be a bunch of jerks. Like I said—don’t look now. But I just lined up all your ducks in a perfect row. If we weren’t just friends, we could be on a date. If I can arrange it, so can anyone else.”
“Oh, Nick. This is terrible.”
“Why?” he asked totally at a loss.
“Date implies further...excursions.”
Interesting choice of words. He couldn’t wait to see where she was going with this.
“You are absolutely right. Date definitely implies further togetherness.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I beg to differ. For the next two days you can kick up your heels, and I’d be happy to help you do graduate work in footloose and fancy-free.”
“What about Sarah?”
“She’s not a traumatized eleven-year-old anymore, Ab. She doesn’t need you in the same way. She’s a young woman who’s trying to spread her wings.”
“And it’s my job to channel her flight when she does.”
“Agreed. But she needs space to fly. Your parents wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your own life. They would want you to find someone and be happy.”
“Like they were?” She snapped the words out.
Nick knew she hadn’t meant to tell him that. Therefore it got his attention in a big way. “There were problems?” he asked gently.
She hesitated for so long, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Finally, she made a small movement with her head, not quite a nod, but still affirmative.
She sighed. “They got married very young, eighteen. My mother was pregnant with me. The marriage lasted because of me. But as I got older it began to deteriorate. She was going to leave my father when she discovered she was going to have another baby. Sarah.”
She stopped, and he wondered if she would say more. He got the feeling that she hadn’t told anyone else about this. This was a heavy load for anyone, let alone someone so young.
“Go on,” he encouraged.
“There was a lot of fighting. I don’t think Sarah knew, or she doesn’t remember. But they had decided to split.” A pained expression crossed her face and for a brief moment she closed her eyes. “Before the final decision, they reluctantly agreed to go away together, to see if there was any way to salvage the marriage.” She sighed, a big sad sound. “They never came back.”
“Abby,” he said, then tightened his hold on her hand. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” She shrugged, looking so young, so vulnerable, so incredibly sad.
Not much different from the first time he’d seen her. He remembered that day, when she’d promised to be the best employee he’d ever had. Fresh from his own rejection, he hadn’t noticed what was going on with her the way he should have. If he hadn’t been so selfish, burying his feelings so no one could hurt him again, he would have seen that she was doing the same thing. But he’d been the only reveler at a pity party that had lasted way too long. And she had forfeited five years of her life.
Maybe if he hadn’t been so self-absorbed he could have helped her. Maybe they could have helped each other.
He wished he could give her back the time she had lost.
Her revelation about her parents helped him understand a few things. Like the fact that she’d been hiding behind her obligation to Sarah. Maybe that was part of the reason she was trying so hard to prevent Sarah from growing up. It would keep her from having to put her heart on the line.
In the last five years Abby’s situation had worked to scare guys off. But Nick didn’t frighten easily. He was five years late, but he could still help her. He would show her that she could date if she wanted to. Time management was the key.
He would also tutor her in the dos and don’ts of dating. She was a babe in the woods where guys on the make were concerned. The thought of innocent Abby at the mercy of an octopus with eight hands made him crazy. Since he wouldn’t always be around to protect her, he would arm her with knowledge. He hated the idea of her with another guy, but he was damaged goods. She deserved someone who could love her. And too much time had been wasted already.
He would see her safely on the road to fancy-free, or his name wasn’t Nick Marchetti.
Chapter Ten
“So, do you want me to call you Don Juan or Casa nova?” Abby asked.
“It’s just role-playing. Sir, your honor, or your worship will do just fine.”
She laughed. “No, really, Nick. I need to get into my role. What’s my motivation—”
Nick’s glare silenced her. “You’re not taking this seriously at all, are you?”
“Neither are you.”
Abby set the pan of chicken she’d just breaded into the oven. She met Nick’s phony annoyed gaze and raised him a saucy stare. He was putting the finishing touches on a salad to go with their main course. It had been twenty-four hours since their lovely date—No! Not date. Never a date. She wouldn’t even think that.
It had been a friendly dinner. One that had gott
en a little too personal for her peace of mind. She hadn’t meant to blurt out that her parents had been on the brink of a break-up when they’d died in the car accident. She usually managed to put that out of her mind. Because guilt followed when she recalled her role in that.
But for some reason, after last night, Nick had decided she needed tutoring in what the teenagers called “going out.” He’d called it Dating 101, or the ups and downs, ins and outs and general survival techniques for a single woman in the nineties. The whole thing made her uncomfortable. Especially since they were still alone.
Nick had phoned his parents for information on his brothers’ estimated time of arrival, but no one had answered. He didn’t seem too worried. He’d said if there was a problem they would get word. So, they continued to be by themselves. Sleeping in rooms that were separated by one, thin wall. If you could call it sleeping. She’d tossed and turned, and when she wasn’t doing that she was dreaming about Nick.
That was what had convinced her to go along with his tutoring idea. It could come in handy. For her. She wasn’t worried about Nick. He seemed perfectly content to maintain the parameters they’d set up.
And that thought disturbed her more than a little.
But what was she supposed to think? He hadn’t even kissed her. The pesky little voice inside tried to warn her that thinking along those lines was one step from disaster. But she tried to be more optimistic. Life was a series of pitfalls. If she kept her eyes wide open and on the road in front of her, she could avoid bottoming out. Since she was already here with Nick, and through no fault of hers they were still alone, she decided to make the best of the best situation she could imagine. Tomorrow she would worry about disengaging herself. Tonight she could still fret about why he hadn’t kissed her.
Right now her modus operandi was teasing him.
“I’m taking this as seriously as you are, Your Worship.” She looked up at him. “Explain to me again what ‘this’ is.”
“You need an intensive seminar on the dating scene. After last night’s dinner conversation, it became clear to me that you need some instruction in this sort of thing. You’re a target for every Lothario who comes down the pike.”
“Aha. Your worship isn’t good enough for you. Now you want me to call you Lothario. Does the phrase ‘multiple-personality disorder’ mean anything to you?”
“Seriously, Ab. The longer you go without dating, the more vulnerable you become.”
“Why?” She couldn’t help glowing over the fact that he looked really worried. About her.
“Guys will assume you know the ropes. They’ll hit on you and figure you know the score and will handle the situation like a woman of experience. Only you’ve never done it before, so you’re a babe in the woods. And every wolf on the make will be after you.”
“Wolf?”
“All guys are half man, half wolf. They’re on the prowl, predators who take no prisoners. They’ll chew you up and spit you out.” He grinned suddenly. “Unless you follow Nick Marchetti’s three simple rules.”
“What if I want their advances?”
His smile disappeared, replaced by a thundercloud of a frown. “That’s another seminar, entitled Try That Again and You’ll Be Singing Soprano.”
She giggled, very much liking his protective attitude. “Okay. What do I say to a guy?”
“No.”
She blinked. “We can’t talk about what to talk about? That’s my biggest weakness. What do I say to a guy?” she asked again.
“No. I meant you always tell a guy no.”
“Always?”
“No matter what,” he said, slam-dunking the cucumbers he’d just sliced into the lettuce. “Without question. Do not pass go, just tell him no. N-o. Period. End of conversation.”
She opened the drawer and pulled out two place mats and arranged them across from each other at the pine table. Turning back she asked, “Then how am I ever going to get a date? If I say ‘no’ when someone asks me out, my footloose-and-fancy-free phase will last about thirty seconds.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad,” he mumbled.
“What?”
“That would be so sad.” He began to chop celery with a bit more enthusiasm than the job warranted. He was certainly peeved about something.
“Okay so how do I talk to a guy? What do you like to talk about?”
“Books, movies, that perfume you wear.”
“You like it?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah.”
She met his gaze and the look he sent her made her hot all over. Shaking, she did a quick about-face toward the cupboard to pull out some plates. “I’m glad. It was recommended by—”
“Never under any circumstances wear it on a date,” he said sharply.
“Really?” His comment froze her and she turned back to look at him. “Why?”
“It gives a guy ideas,” he said.
“Like what?”
He met her gaze and there was an expression in his eyes—a hunger that she would swear had nothing to do with food. “Just never you mind,” he answered, his voice husky and just this side of a growl. “One hurdle at a time. Although if you follow my simple rules, you should sail through without a problem.”
His look made her insides quiver and her heart pound like a stereo with too much bass. “Okay. What are the rules?” she asked breathlessly.
“Number one—no matter how great a guy seems, he always wants something.”
“Of course he does. A good time.”
“No kidding.” He gave her a wry look.
“I know we’re talking about two different things here. But seriously, isn’t the whole point of dating to have a good time?”
“Yes. But there’s a good time.” He raised one dark eyebrow suggestively. “And there’s a good time,” he said, lowering his voice to a seductive growl that sent shivers of delight down her spine.
“Okay.” She swallowed. Kissing would definitely be part of that second “good time” he was talking about. She wanted to know what the rest of it entailed. She desperately wanted Nick to tutor her in all of the above. With an effort, she brought herself back to the conversation. “I—I think I get your drift. What else?”
“Never under any circumstances go with a guy to his place.”
She looked around the well-appointed kitchen and just couldn’t help asking, “You mean like we are now?”
“Yes,” he said automatically. Then he looked startled. “I mean no. This is different.”
“How?”
Abby found that she didn’t want it to be different. She wanted to be a couple, like the ones she’d envied when she first started working at Marchetti’s. She desperately wanted to not feel alone. All she could think about was being in his arms, with his mouth on hers.
“How is this different?” she asked softly.
“My mother told me to take care of you, Abby. Besides, this is you and me. We’re just different,” he said with a shrug. “What I meant was after a romantic dinner, if your date asks you back to his place to see his etchings, that’s a definite no.”
“Do you have any etchings, Nick?” she asked.
He looked momentarily startled, then shook his head. “Not unless you count the manufacturer’s name engraved on my free weights.”
He lifted weights? Moron, she said to herself. Of course he did. There was a reason he had that washboard stomach. She’d felt the strength in his arms as he’d held her when they went careening down the snow-covered hill.
“Can I see them?” she asked. A fluttering started in her abdomen.
“You want to see my free weights?”
She hesitated trying to decide whether to be honest or say no. Finally, she nodded. “And if you showed them to me,” she wondered out loud, “what are the rules about kissing?” She stood several steps away from him with her back to the refrigerator.
“Kissing?” His eyes smoldered as he set his paring knife down on the butcher-block cutting board and wiped his h
ands on the dishtowel. He stared at her for several moments and her heart pounded as anticipation pumped adrenaline through her. His long stride chewed up the small distance between them in less than a heartbeat.
“Never let a guy corner you,” he said placing his hands on the refrigerator on either side of her head.
Their bodies barely touched. She wanted more. She wanted to lean into him, press her aching breasts against his hard chest. She was desperate to feel his arms come around her, then pull her closer as if he would never let her go.
“And if he does?”
“If it’s me, you do this,” he said, lowering his head.
Abby held her breath, every second exquisite torture, until he touched his mouth to hers. His lips were firm yet soft, sweet but with a hint of fire that stole the air from her lungs. When he traced her upper lip with his tongue, she opened her mouth and he slipped inside to caress the warm moisture. Her already pounding heart increased tempo.
She didn’t think her reeling senses could take more, but found out she was deliciously wrong when he shifted his attention from her mouth to her neck. Correction: one hypersensitive spot just beneath her ear. The featherlight brush of his lips sent an arc of electricity zinging through her.
She slid her hands up, over his chest, and wrapped them around his neck, loving the way he felt—strong, solid, sexy. If there were truly rules to a situation like this, she wanted to break every last one of them with Nick. She trusted him completely. In fact, she tipped her head to the side giving him room to keep on doing what he was doing because she never wanted the sensations cascading through her to stop.
But he lifted his head and looked at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. How she wished she already had the experience he was trying to teach her. What should she say? “Don’t stop” worked for her.
She dropped her arms and laughed a little shakily. “And the rule you were showing me would be?” she asked, desperately trying to keep her voice light.
He stared down at her his eyes dark with intensity. “There are no rules for that It wasn’t a game. It was for real—and for keeps.”
And Then He Kissed Me Page 12