by Sonya Weiss
“I suspect that was Henry.” Henry was her grandfather’s best friend. The two families had been close for many years, walking through the ups and downs of life together. Her younger sister, Amelia, had married Henry’s grandson, Chad.
“What are the two of you scheming about now?” Abby picked up the saucers and rinsed them in the sink. When she was done, she faced him, narrowing her eyes when Noah wouldn’t look at her. Oh no. She smelled trouble brewing, and it had her grandfather’s name all over it.
He toyed with the band on his wristwatch. “We learned our lesson about that. Convincing Chad and Amelia to get married was all the meddling we’ll ever do.”
“Whenever you tell a lie, you always wrinkle the end of your nose,” Abby said.
“I do not.” Noah touched the tip of his nose, and Abby sighed. Mischief lurked in his eyes. She could no more stop her granddaddy from meddling than she could lift Nick’s truck with one hand. Giving up for now, she motioned Nick toward the refrigerator. “I stocked up yesterday, so you’ll find plenty of stuff in there to work with.”
“What’s going on?” Noah asked, his bushy eyebrows drawing down in confusion as he watched Nick wash and dry his hands.
“Nick is going to cook dinner for me.” Abby caught the look of surprised delight on her grandfather’s face. “Don’t even think about it. Nick and I are…” Abby stopped and bit her lower lip. What were they? They weren’t friends. More like frenemies. She looked over at Nick.
He stood with his back against the counter. Over six feet of pure male hotness. She remembered him leaning against the bathroom counter in Florida with his shirt off, drops of water from his shower running slowly…
His gaze held hers for a long moment, as if he were caught in the same memory. Abby’s mouth went dry. He looked at her with the kind of interest a frenemy didn’t show.
It was Nick who finally broke the awkward silence. “Actually, Noah, there’s something we need to tell you,” he said in his sexy come-hither voice, still holding Abby’s gaze.
Abby’s eyes widened in alarm. First, because she wanted to come-hither and knew that would be like trying to put out a forest fire with a tablespoon of water. Bad idea. Secondly, because she was afraid he was about to tell her grandfather what had happened between the two of them. Also a bad idea. Her grandfather didn’t need any encouragement with his propensity to meddle.
Noah shifted around in his seat, leaning forward. “Go on,” he urged, cupping a hand to the outside of his ear.
Nick stroked his chin with fingers Abby knew were very, very good at stroking. “Abby seems to think you would want more than four cows for her.”
Noah blinked, then sat back and laughed, slapping a hand on his knee. When he sobered up, a speculative gleam flashed in his eyes. “So you and Abby are…”
Giving Nick a warning look, Abby did her best to nix any speculation in that realm. “We’re not anything, Granddaddy.” Anymore. “Nick offered to cook dinner for me. End of story.”
Abby picked up the coffee cups and put those in the sink, then reached for a cloth and started wiping off the counter. She wanted to keep her hands busy so her traitorous thoughts wouldn’t keep dragging her mind gleefully back to Nick. She’d gone over and over the events leading up to that night. She had no excuse, no defense. The only reason it had happened was because she’d wanted him, and that scared the hell out of her.
In all the time since her decision to swear off men, she’d never once let herself give in to temptation. Until Nick had come along.
“Abby,” Nick said softly, coming up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders.
For one split second, Abby wanted nothing more than to turn around to face him, to kiss him, to let her inner wild woman trample her relationship reservations to teeny little bits.
“Abby,” Nick said again when she hadn’t moved. “You’re exhausted.” He crossed to the table and patted one of the chairs. “Sit. Please.”
Tossing aside the cloth, Abby forced her wild woman to behave and took a seat. Grateful to be off her aching feet, she slipped out of her shoes and wiggled her toes.
Like a dog with a bone, her grandfather wouldn’t let the hope of something going on between her and Nick go. “Just dinner? You’re not courting?”
Nick shot Abby an amused grin and answered. “We’re not. I think Abby would prefer to have my head mounted over the fireplace rather than date me.”
“I know what you’re thinking, Granddaddy, and you can stop it right there. Nick and I are not and will never be courting, dating, sleeping together, or even thinking about sleeping together.” Why did her voice have to crack when she’d said that last part? She already knew she was lying to herself. That didn’t mean she wanted everyone else to know.
“Then what’s going on? I might be an old man, but I picked up on the unfriendly way Abby’s acted toward you in the past. Now all of a sudden you’re cooking for her. Real friendly like,” Noah pointed out.
“You’d have to ask her the reason behind her earlier unfriendliness,” Nick said with a wink and a cheeky grin. He set a container of eggs on the counter and searched for a frying pan. “You like omelets, Abby?”
She nodded, and deciding it was best to throw some kind of explanation Noah’s way, Abby said, “You remember I told you about needing to expand the diner?”
“I do. You’ve been looking for a building.”
“Right. Well, Nick is trying to steal the building I want to buy.”
Unwrapping a block of cheese, Nick opened drawers until he found a knife. “Uh-uh. Don’t try to make me the villain. I did not try to steal it. All I did was talk to Oscar and show interest in the place.”
“Oh. If that’s all that’s going on, I’ll say good night.” Standing up abruptly, Noah yawned and stretched. “You don’t need me here in the middle of your sparring. I’ll head on to my room and give you two some privacy.”
Narrowing her eyes at how quickly he’d decided to leave, Abby said, “I mean it, Granddaddy.”
“What? I’m going to watch some television in my room. There are some reruns airing I don’t want to miss.”
“You don’t fool me.”
“I can’t believe you don’t trust me.” Noah’s voice was pitiful as he came around the table and kissed her cheek.
Abby tugged the front of his shirt. “Why don’t we revisit, in detail, what you did to Chad and Amelia?”
“Be nice,” Noah grumbled and shuffled out of sight.
Once Noah was gone, Nick was the first to break the silence. “What isn’t he fooling you about?”
“I can guarantee you that he’s in his room calling Henry so fast his fingers are likely to set a world record.” Abby watched the assured way Nick moved about the kitchen. She’d noticed that same assurance when they’d danced before. When he’d poured her wine. When he’d kissed her and left her hungry for more. When she’d ached for him.
Realizing he was staring at her with a quizzical expression, Abby blinked and gathered her runaway thoughts. “Sorry, what? I got lost in thought.”
“I asked if you wanted any bell pepper in your omelet.”
“Yes, but I can cut it.” Abby got up and hurried to take the pepper, hoping that keeping busy would steer her mind clear of Nick and his damned assurance. Bending, she took the chopping block from the cabinet and set it on the counter. Her hands weren’t quiet steady.
What is wrong with me?
Obviously, she’d been working too hard. Coupled with not getting enough sleep, that was a bad combination. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be looking at Nick the way she was.
Behind her, he put his hand over hers when she reached for a knife. So much strength in his touch. Yet he’d been so gentle.
“I want to do it all,” he said slowly.
Goose bumps crept along Abby’s forearms. The warmth of his body heat behind her made it difficult to concentrate. One step backward and her body would be flush against his. Letting go of the knife, s
he managed to say, “I hope you’re referring to the cooking.”
“Of course. What are you referring to?”
Abby stepped quickly to the left to put some space between them and took two glasses from the cupboard. “What do you want?”
“Anything you have to offer.”
She shot him a sharp glance. “Some of my granddaddy’s prune juice?”
Nick laughed. “Touché. Almost anything you want to offer.” His laughter faded, and his expression turned serious. “This is nice spending time together. Even though we both want the same building, it doesn’t have to mean that we can’t develop a friendship while you fall in love with me.”
“I won’t fall for you, no matter what you say or do.” Abby rolled her eyes. “And you want us to become allies when we’re on opposite sides of a building war?” she asked in disbelief.
Nick slid two fluffy omelets onto plates and set them on the table. “We’re not at war. More like at odds with each other.”
“No.” Abby put a couple of forks on the table and took a seat. In all fairness, she had to make Nick understand what he was up against. “We are at war, and I will use everything in my power to make sure that you lose.”
Nick reached for the napkins. His lips quirked in a half smile. “Such as?”
“Whatever it takes.”
“Right back at you, Abby. I can handle it.” He sat across from her. “Unlike you, I seem to recall that though we’re pretty evenly matched, I know how to perform better…tactical maneuvers.”
Abby picked up her fork and pointed it at him. “That sounds like ego talking to me.”
“It’s not ego if you can back it up.”
Abby reached for the pepper shaker. “You do not want to get into this battle, Nick. I know that retreat is not in an ex-Marine’s vocabulary, but you should bow out while you still have your dignity because I don’t intend to lose.”
“There’s no such thing as an ex-Marine. I still bleed green, honey, and I’ve never run from a fight in my life, especially one where the stakes are this high.”
“That building is important to me.”
“Go ahead and give it your best shot.” His gaze touched on her lips.
Abby did her best to ignore the heated look in his eyes. “Oh, I plan to. You’ll never even see it coming.” She smiled, then cut a bite of the omelet and popped it into her mouth to distract herself. So the man can cook on top of all his other accomplishments.
“I just hope that you stay in such…” She paused, deliberately allowing her gaze to travel over every delicious inch of him that she could see. “…Good shape. When you renovate the building for me, you’ll need all your strength.”
“Nice to know you’ve noticed my shape.”
“No holds barred, anything goes in this battle. Agreed?” Abby said.
“Agreed. I look forward to seeing you surrender. Again.”
Gritting her teeth, Abby wagged her fork at him. “No innuendoes.”
“Backtracking already? You said no holds barred. If you can’t take the heat—”
“Oh, I can take it.”
“I know that.”
He was deliberately trying to fluster her, to bring everything back to that night. Breathing in through her nose, Abby silently counted to three. “I’m going to do my best to make your life hell,” she promised.
Nick leaned his head back and laughed. “I don’t mind the fire, sweetheart. I like it hot. But you’re forgetting I hold an ace.”
Frowning, Abby pushed back the rest of the omelet she couldn’t finish. “What ace?”
“I’m only fighting you for the building. I already know that I want you, so I’m not distracted by that battle. You, on the other hand, will be fighting yourself. You can’t even admit that you want me.”
“That’s not true,” Abby said. Granted, her feelings for Nick were purely sexual and her heart wasn’t involved, but just because she’d had a moment of weakness didn’t mean she was going to continue to puddle at Nick’s feet. Anymore. So what if he had that damned sexy smile? That body that— Abby hopped off that train of thought. Dammit, exactly whose team is my mind on?
“Not fighting yourself, huh?” Easing up from the table, Nick grinned as if he could read her thoughts and picked up his empty plate. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
…
Several hours later, Nick rolled over in bed and punched his pillow. The moon peeked insistently through the window by his bed, illuminating the room. In the distance, a neighbor’s dog barked.
He’d only been able to catnap throughout the night and woke at every little sound. The clock ticked slowly toward a quarter past four, and his mind lingered on Abby. On her lips, her curves. Poking at her probably hadn’t won him any points, but he was damned if he was going to let her forget how good it had been.
Rolling over onto his back, he put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. He just wished that he could forget. He was sick of standing under the cold shower when he couldn’t get Abby out of his mind. A man could develop pneumonia that way. Or shrivel up and… Was that a mosquito hawk on the ceiling? He squinted. He hated those things.
The doorbell pealed, and Nick felt like a fist had hit him in the center of his chest. Middle of the night always meant bad news. His mind went to his brother Elliot, an officer with the SEALs, who was often sent to handle bad situations. He leaped from the bed in one movement, stumbled over his shoes, and hopped, cursing, into the living room.
Jerking open the front door, he came face-to-face with Abby. He scanned her expression for any sign of distress, but she looked calm and beautiful as always. Relieved it wasn’t bad news about his brother, Nick said, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” She reached into the pocket of her blue jeans. When she opened her hand, she held his wristwatch and wallet. “You left these on the counter.”
He’d taken off the watch when he’d washed up the dishes for her afterward in an attempt to make her think he was a great catch, but he didn’t remember taking out his wallet.
“Well, when you said there were no holds barred, you meant it. It’s the middle of the night. Hoping I’ll end up too tired to concentrate and make a mistake that gives you the upper hand?”
“Not at all,” she said in a voice as smooth as spreading butter over pancakes. “I’m on my way to the diner to get things started for the breakfast crowd. Your house was on the way. I assumed you might need your wallet.” She dumped both items into his hand and did a slow perusal of his body before she smirked. “Nice boxers, Batman.”
Nick looked down at the comic book hero boxers one of his brothers had given him for their family’s annual Christmas Eve gag gift. He normally never wore them, but he’d run out of clean laundry because he’d been busy finishing up two small renovation projects in the last week.
Changing the subject, he said, “Do you keep this schedule every day?”
“I like the early hours. But I understand your surprise. Most men couldn’t handle everything that I do.”
Nick raised his eyebrows. “Most women couldn’t handle everything that I do.”
She made a disbelieving noise and crossed her arms over the black Beatles Abbey Road T-shirt she wore. “I’ll bet I could.”
“And I bet I could take on whatever you handle.”
A sly smile slid across her lips, and Nick forced himself not to dwell on them.
“It’s a deal. Get dressed and I’ll wait for you.” She looked real happy about what she’d said. Too happy.
“Now?” Nick asked, knowing he’d just been outmaneuvered. She was up to something.
“Unless you want to power down and go back to bed? Leave the hard days to the ‘little woman’ maybe?”
“Come in. Give me a couple of minutes to get dressed.” Nick stepped aside so she could sweep past him. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into, but how hard could it be? She owned a diner.
Abby trailed her fingers
along the arm of the comfortable leather sofa. “I’m not sure you’re up to this. It’ll be physically and mentally demanding.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He caught the way her gaze roamed over his chest and lower, then lingered for a moment before she quickly looked away with a faint flush to her cheeks.
“Will you please go put some clothes on?”
She’s not as unaffected by me as she likes to pretend. Nick grinned, and she scowled when she caught his delight.
“Back in a second.” Nick headed into the bedroom and flicked on the light switch, blinking at the sudden brightness. He grabbed a plain blue T-shirt off the back of a chair, sniffed it, and then tossed it aside. He had to get some laundry done.
From his closet, he grabbed the last shirt he had and quickly slid it on. If Abby thought he couldn’t take whatever she dished out, she was mistaken and he’d prove it.
While he might not be firing on all six cylinders on so little sleep when it was still dark thirty outside, he could handle whatever Abby was up to.
Bring it on.
Chapter Four
“Abby.” Amelia gaped as she lined up slices of freshly baked bread. “I cannot believe you’d be so underhanded. That’s not like you.”
Abby stopped stirring a pot of chili and looked at Amelia, then over at her other sister, Ann. I will not feel guilty about this. Okay, maybe I feel a little guilty. She glanced toward the diner’s open back door where she could see Nick still hard at work. He’d unloaded boxes from the truck for the past few hours. He’d taken his shirt off, and his muscled torso was a walking advertisement for a Hollywood superhero movie.
Captain America. No, more defined than that. Thor. Definitely Thor.
“If you can quit gawking long enough, could you explain why you’re doing this?” Amelia prompted as she fitted thick pieces of specialty dill cheese onto the bread.
“I warned him. Nick said he could handle whatever I gave him.” Abby couldn’t help but feel pleased with herself. Nick had no idea how difficult it could be to run the diner. Though she had employees, she was the number one go-to person for everything.