“Exactly,” she said, snuggling her head against Matt’s shoulder. She inhaled deeply.
“Did you just smell me?” He laughed.
“Yep. I told you I was a sensual person. I’ll be petting you next. Just a warning.”
Matt tried to ignore the vision her words implanted in his brain. He snagged the cooler. Abby sat up, watching him uncork the wine and lift two glasses from the bag.
“Nice.”
“You like that?” Matt smiled and handed her a glass after he’d half-filled it. “My in-home relationship advisor provided this.” He poured himself some Riesling and settled back in his chair again.
“I think I need a Chris. Does he do house calls?” Abby laid her head on Matt’s shoulder again and linked her hand through his arm. Her fingers began twisting through the hair on his forearm, and he smiled. Nothing like a woman who knew herself.
He stretched his legs out and rested his cheek on her hair. “Nope. I can’t possibly spare him. How else am I going to impress you?”
“I can think of a thing or two.”
Matt raised an eyebrow, and she smiled.
“So,” she said.
“So.”
Abby tipped her glass toward Matt’s. “To beginnings?”
He clinked the edge of his glass on hers; the crystal chimed in promise.
“To beginnings.”
Chapter Nine
SARAH’S BACK WAS TO ABBY as she assembled a sandwich. She filled a cup with the caffeinated nectar of the gods and handed it to Abby. “Busy night.”
Abby leaned one hip on the counter and blew on her coffee. “Mmm hmm.”
Sarah took a large bite of her sandwich. She chewed for a minute, looking toward the door that opened to the beach. She swallowed. “Late night.”
“Yep.” Abby sipped.
“Want me to get another cup down?”
“Want some coffee?”
Sarah slammed her sandwich on the counter. “Fuck’s sake, Abby! You’re going to make me ask which guy is upstairs? Give me a hint. Will there be brownish hair or curls in the shower?”
Abby laughed and snagged a bit of Sarah’s ponytail and a lock of her own hair. “Whatever you’d call these. Sarah, there’s no one upstairs. Unless Tyler has figured out a way to shimmy up the side of the house, which I wouldn’t put past him.”
Sarah grabbed her sandwich and tore into it. She forced down a large bite, glaring at Abby. “I’m trying not to strangle you right now. Are you out of your mind? The boy toy appears and disappears—don’t even think he’s given up, by the way—and then Mr. Sexy-chuckle-that-tormented-Sarah-as-she-had-to-listen-to-it-in-her-lonely-spinster-bed shows up and stays until the ass crack of dawn…and no one is upstairs?” She kicked the cabinet next to Abby. Opening the refrigerator, she grabbed a bottle of beer and swallowed a quarter of it before slamming it down on the counter. “I hate you.”
Abby slung her arm around Sarah’s shoulders and squeezed. “What’s the matter, baby? Things with Scotty not working out? I thought you’d be over the moon to have finally snagged him.”
Sarah snorted. “Peachy, if you don’t mind wrestling an octopus from hell who gazes adoringly at his own mug in every reflective surface. And the tongue? Please. Someone needs to teach this younger generation that a little goes a long way. I feel like I need a lobster bib when we go out.” She held up a hand as Abby started to speak. “Don’t even suggest it. I’m unwilling to train up a newbie. Even the pesty child was a better kisser. My God, that’s something I never imagined saying. My mother would be so proud.” She started to chuckle, and Abby gladly joined in.
Sarah slapped Abby’s shoulder. “So, what’s the deal? Jason didn’t look happy when he left last night. Did Matt?” She took a swallow from her bottle.
Abby opened the door of the fridge and grabbed her own beer. “Yum. Great breakfast.” Sarah’s gaze was level. Abby started peeling the label from the bottle, watching her hands. “I think Jason and I are better as friends. He’s a great guy. Funny, smart, no lobster bibs necessary, but…” She shrugged.
“And Matt?”
A smile tugged at Abby’s lips. “All that, and then some.” Snuggling in the beach chairs had turned into cuddling on the couch when it had gotten too cool for her to sit out by the water in just a thin robe, and cuddling on the couch had turned into…something more. Just thinking about the creamy texture of the skin on his neck, the rasp of scruff against her shoulder, the springy-soft feel of his chest hair against her palms…Abby gulped her beer, feeling heat race through her body.
Sarah watched her with narrowed eyes. “Tell me that you did not sex it up on my aunt’s Ralph Lauren couch. Or that you had a towel under you if you did. That old bat has eyes like a hawk, and I can’t afford to replace it.”
Abby laughed and rolled her eyes. “No, we did not sex it up on your aunt’s loveseat. Do I look seventeen? I’m a comfort girl.” Sarah nodded. “Besides, it wasn’t good timing last night. Jason had just left, and it would have been…weird.” Abby remembered the sure way Matt’s hands had moved over her skin, how he seemed to know just how and where to place a palm or trace a finger to make her gasp for air. She had an instant of real regret that she hadn’t invited him upstairs. The summer wouldn’t last forever…
“Abby, do you really have time for niceness?” Abby was startled when Sarah echoed her thoughts. “Jason’s a big boy, and he’ll have to suck it up and deal.” She sighed. “Like the opinion of a man-repeller counts.”
“What about Tyler?”
“That’s not a man. That is a fetus.”
Abby snickered. “Okay, then, how about David?”
Sarah looked startled. “David? My David?” She flushed. “I mean, my boss David? What about him?”
Abby kicked her in the ankle. “Come on. I overheard you talking to him the other night.”
“We’re just friends.” Sarah stared into space. Abby had a feeling she was keeping something to herself. As much as Sarah craved real caring, she also feared it. Tyler might be her most embarrassing oops, but he wasn’t the first.
“Call David and tell him about your man problem. I dare you. See what he thinks.” Abby rummaged in the fridge and came up with a peach.
Sarah settled into a chair with one leg folded under her. “Oh, to have your problem. ‘What’s the right time to jump on the hot guy that wants me?’ It’s been so long, that if I got excited, dust would poof out.”
Abby giggled and took a bite of peach.
“You think I’m kidding. Cougar, puma…who the hell cares? If you take kissing off the table, I’d do the grocery delivery boy right now.”
“If such things existed outside Leave It To Beaver,” Abby pointed out.
“Touché.”
The shrill of Abby’s phone made them both jump. They wrestled over it briefly until Sarah could be sure that it wasn’t the museum calling again. When she saw that it was Matt, she handed the phone over, then flopped back in her chair and made lewd gestures until Abby hung up and sighed.
“Well, so much for lunch. Matt says that he overslept and has to work through. Do you want to go out? To the boardwalk?” Apparently, he’d had a hard time getting to sleep when he got home; Abby was glad that she’d had some effect on him, because Lord knew he affected her.
“Did you mention we might be at the boardwalk, maybe?” Sarah asked. Abby grinned. “Okay, you little floozy. Let’s go make over-aged menaces of ourselves.”
An hour later found them sprawled in the chairs of a boardwalk café while they watched tourists and locals mix in a wash of color and sound.
“He’s doable,” Sarah observed, staring at the back of a surfer who passed close by her chair.
“Nope. Men with thin lips leave me—” Abby grimaced to demonstrate her distaste. She took a bite of her delayed lunch. “So, let’s get back to the subject at hand: what do you think I should do about the museum?”
“What do you want to do, Abby? You fought like hell to
get that job, I get that, but if it leaves you—” she aped Abby’s expression from moments before “—why do it?”
“Because I need to make a living!” Abby dropped her sandwich to the table, appetite gone, and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. “It’s not like there’s a knight in shining armor out there just waiting to sweep me off my feet and solve all my problems.” She stretched her legs out into the sun, daring it to burn them. “All I can depend on having is a scheming intern and an incontinent cat.” She thought for a minute. “Scratch the cat—when my mother called yesterday, she said Salvador Dali was thriving with her and ‘Grandpa.’” She laid her head on the table. “It’s sobering when you realize your parents are so sure that you’ll never procreate that they’re willing to change cat diapers. At least Eric was—”
She jumped when Sarah slammed her hand on the table.
“Do not start with that again, sister. Eric was a two-year-long mistake sundae with idiot sauce. Dali is cute but replaceable. And as for Clint…if he wants the damn job so much, let him have it. You’ve told me yourself that your boss is insufferable. Honey, you haven’t even looked anywhere else—like here. You’ve made a connection with that gallery owner, right? Not to mention the connection with Wetsuit Wonder.”
Abby slipped her sunglasses back over her eyes to hide her expression. “Be realistic, Sarah. This is an—an idyll. This isn’t real life. Sexy men and beaches are summer things. Grown-ups realize that. And if we’re going to visit la-la land, I wouldn’t want Matt to take care of me.” She held up a hand to stay Sarah’s protest. “I worked too hard to get to where I am to give it up. Claire is a nice woman with a nice gallery, but she doesn’t even have a full-time staff. Umpteen years of education and experience can’t be tossed out for a summer hookup.”
“Change.”
“Work—” Abby’s sharp reply was cut off by the shrilling of her cell phone. Sarah spun it around on the table so she could see the displayed name. She grimaced. Gretchen.
She pointed at Abby’s face. “You touch that phone, and so help me God, I’ll shank you.”
“Do I need to stage an intervention, ladies?”
Abby tipped her head back and saw Jason standing behind her, his smile hopeful.
Her heart sank. Maybe Sarah had been right about him not giving up. She looked at her friend with mute pleading, willing her to restrain the smirk she knew had to be right below the surface.
Instead, Sarah gestured to an empty seat. “Nah. This is the way we’ve rolled for years—don’t worry about it. What are you up to today?”
Jason balanced his frame on the bistro chair. “Wandering around with Scotty.” He pointed at Sarah’s latest conquest, who waved without coming over. Abby wondered if Sarah would be upset. To her amusement, she just looked relieved.
“He wants me to talk about bike racing to his touring group. It might be fun—aren’t you in that?” Jason leaned his elbows on the table and focused on Sarah.
Abby let their conversation wash over her and settled into pleasant memories of the way Matt’s arms had felt around her the night before. Less pleasant was the guilt she was feeling with Jason sitting across from her. She’d never actually verbally ended a relationship before—it always seemed easier to just withdraw and let them die a natural death. Now she knew why she’d chosen the easy road: the direct route sucked. Still, as Sarah had noted earlier, the summer wouldn’t last forever, and for the first time, Abby felt an urgency to end a relationship sharply.
She realized that Jason was looking at her, a question in his eyes.
“I’m sorry—woolgathering. What was that?” she asked.
“I was wondering if you’d like to come on a ride with us today. As friends—” he held up his hands “—I promise, no expectations.”
Abby considered different answers. “Yes” wasn’t even a vague possibility, but she wasn’t sure whether she had the guts to get into a detailed “no” in public. Cowardice won out. “I’m sorry. Sarah and I already have plans to go to the movies this afternoon.” She named the latest chick flick, praying that it was playing in town. She also prayed that Sarah’s disgust with all such movies wouldn’t show on her face.
Jason shuddered. “Not my thing.” He stood. “Let me tell Scotty where I’m going, and I’ll walk you to your car.” He caressed Abby’s shoulder and strode off.
She grimaced. She’d thought that she was clear about being uninterested, but maybe she needed to be harsher. Had it been this difficult for Eric to end whatever it was they’d had? Had he been dropping hints forever, waiting for her to catch on?
“Well, that was gutless,” Sarah observed, tossing a twenty on the table for payment and tip. “Was that your version of ‘I am woman, hear me roar…oh look! Shiny things!’” She rose from her seat with a twisted grin.
“Smart ass.” Abby laughed along with Sarah as they walked onto the boardwalk. Blinded by the angle of the sun, Abby stumbled over a tilted board and squawked.
She was startled when rough hands gripped her upper arms, though she could immediately identify their owner. Abby had felt those hands run over her shoulders and up her neck just the night before.
“Imagine meeting you here,” Matt said with gentle humor, his hands clasping Abby’s arms longer than was strictly necessary to keep her upright. He slid them toward her hands as Jason returned to stand next to Sarah.
“Imagine,” Abby said dryly.
Matt smiled at Sarah and Jason. “Hello again, Jason. Thought you’d take advantage of this day off to get out of town.”
“Sticking around.” Jason’s eyes locked with suspicion on Matt’s hands as they lingered at Abby’s wrists. “I thought I had a few things to clear up today. Maybe not.”
Hoping to relieve the awkward pause, Abby said brightly, “Sarah and I were just on our way to see a chick flick. Not Jason’s kind of movie, unfortunately.” She smiled at the big man, hoping to get away without more hurt feelings.
“Nothing wrong with a little afternoon lovin’.” Matt grinned and crossed his arms across his chest. Abby wondered why that reference made Jason’s eyes snap.
He darted a look at her face. “I never said there was. I just—”
Sarah interrupted him with a snort of disgust. “—appreciate something with a little more balls and a little less shoe shopping? Me, too.” She slid her hand around his arm. “Did you see that badass bike shop, Jason?” She started down the boardwalk after sending Abby a death glare. Soon they were ambling along, talking, with Matt and Abby trailing behind.
“So what happened to work?” Abby asked.
“Oh, it’s still there,” Matt answered wryly. “But it can wait for a bit.” A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I hated being in Monterey at the same time as you were the other day and not being able to see you. I wanted to see you today, and I could. So I did.”
“Charmer,” Abby said. She resisted the urge to check if Jason was watching; maybe it would be best if he was.
“I try,” Matt said. He entwined his fingers with hers, grimacing as they rasped against her skin. “Sorry. The clay—”
“Leeches the oils out of your skin. I know.” Abby smiled up at him. “I like them.” She folded one of his hands in both of hers before letting it rest, palm up, in one of her hands. Running her index finger of the opposite hand gently over his calluses and rough spots, Abby traced around his long fingers and narrow palm. “These are capable hands. Strong. Useful.”
Comparisons to Eric’s soft accountant hands forced themselves into her consciousness, making her wonder what she’d been thinking for the past two years. But after her catastrophe with a married man, she supposed Eric had felt safe…
Matt stepped around the side of the surf shop, tugging Abby with him. He gripped her hip with one hand and cradled her head with the other, pulling her flush against his body before dropping his mouth on hers. His kiss was urgent and insistent, a mixture of nibbles and long, slow pressure. Abby’s jaw relaxed, a
nd her lips opened as her head tilted so that they fit together seamlessly. Her hands found Matt’s waist, sliding up his back and down over the tight curves of his ass. He rumbled deep in his throat before pulling back, breathing rough.
“That’s more like it,” he said huskily, his hands still moving over Abby’s back. “That’s the last time I want you thinking about someone else when you’re with me.” Abby’s eyes darted up. “It’s in the eyes,” he said, pointing to his own. “You were gone for a minute, and then regret crept in. I’m vain enough to think that wasn’t about me, so…” He grinned, lines around his eyes emphasizing his long lashes and high cheekbones. Gentle fingers came up to brush her cheek. “My schedule will make our time tight, so when you’re with me I want you with me. Make sense?”
“Yeah.” The reminder that this was a relationship with a time schedule was sobering. Abby slid her hand around the back of his neck and urged his head down for another, softer kiss.
Matt looped his arm around her and lifted her, backing her against the side of the building as his lips ran toward her ear. “I wish you’d invited me to stay last night,” he said.
“I wish I would have too.” Her hands twisted in his hair. “It’s just…Jason…”
“Fuck Jason,” Matt growled, nudging his leg between hers and pressing them even closer together. His kisses became more insistent, more passionate, until Abby seriously considered taking him home right then.
Sarah’s cheerful voice rang out. “Hey, Abby! Where’d you go? We lost you.”
The thought of what Jason would see if they came around the corner was horrifying. As much as Abby wanted the man whose chest was heaving against hers, she didn’t want anyone hurt.
Matt watched the play of emotions on her face and sighed, lowering her feet to the ground and running a hand through his hair. He called out, “We’re over here. I was showing Abby this mural.” Abby turned and saw the large painting for the first time, noting its clean lines and bold colors right before Sarah and Jason stepped around the corner.
The Art of Appreciation Page 13