by Lori Whitwam
“Is she out of her mind?” Abby’s shocked tone gave Seth another scare. Had she received some sort of e-mail threat?
“Is who out of her mind? Your mom?”
“No, my editor. And it appears she’s in cahoots with my agent. What are they thinking?” She picked up a pen and began tapping it rapidly against the edge of the desk.
“About what?”
“They’ve scheduled a book tour.”
“And it’s a problem?”
Abby shook her head. “Not as such. I mean, I did a tour for the first book. Sort of. I did signings at five or six bookstores in Minnesota. And one in Wisconsin.”
“Don’t you need to do promotional stuff?”
“Well, yeah, but look at this.” Seth approached and peered over her shoulder at the monitor. “Twelve cities? Twelve cities in eighteen days. And they’re actual cities. New York, Atlanta, Dallas, Seattle, Phoenix, Pittsburgh, some other places, plus a couple in Minnesota.” She flung the pen down beside the keyboard. “I have readers in Pittsburgh?”
“If you don’t yet, I guess you will soon.”
“This is all too much. I can’t do it.”
“Sure you can. Could you take Monique or your mom with you?”
“Mom would drive me crazy, and Monique wouldn’t leave her kids for that long. Probably just be me. Business as usual.”
Seth studied the proposed dates. They were in late August and early September. “If I’m remembering our schedule, I bet I could make about half of these with you. If you want.”
She spun her chair around and looked up at him. “Really?”
“Sure. What’s a few more frequent flier miles?” Plus, since she hadn’t yet said if she’d travel with him, this would guarantee him at least a half dozen more opportunities to see her.
“I still think it’s too much. I’ll tell them to cut it down.” She reached for the keyboard.
“Stop it. You have to promote the book if you want it to sell. At the most, see if you can adjust a few dates so I can make it to even more of them.”
Abby stood, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a huge kiss. “You’re incredible, you know. And possibly nuts.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m also selfish, because it’ll give me time with you I wouldn’t have otherwise.”
“I don’t care about the motives. I’m just glad you’ll be there.” She sat back down and turned to face the screen. “Two minutes. I have to send the synopsis and tell her we’ll finalize the dates later.” She poked another mound of papers, and a small, fabric-covered book slipped to the floor.
Seth bent to pick it up. It had fallen open, and he noticed it was handwritten. “What’s this, Abby-Kat?”
She gave him a squinty look for calling her Abby-Kat, and glanced at the book in his hands. “Oh, that. Sometimes I write poetry. For some reason, I always do poetry by hand. Then when it’s done—or as done as it’ll ever be, because I can always edit anything I’ve written—I copy it in there. Most of it’s pretty awful.”
Seth flipped through the pages, hesitated, and looked at Abby. “Is it okay for me to look at this?”
“Sure, if you like terrible poetry.”
He continued, skimming the verses as he went. “Darlin’, this isn’t terrible at all. And these aren’t poems.”
“I’m fairly certain they’re poems. They were when I wrote them.”
“These are songs. Well, with a few adjustments, but all the elements are here.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know anything about writing songs. That’s your field.”
“Then you should listen to me.” He couldn’t believe how good some of these were. “Songs are basically poems. But you simplify them, which is fine because you have the music to support it. You repeat lines or similar beats or sounds, but giving it meaning has to start from the beginning. You’ve done that here, from what I can see.”
“If you say so.” She looked back at the computer.
“I’m serious. I think we could do something with this.” He closed the volume to put it back on the desk, but he wanted to read those poems—songs—more carefully. “Would you mind if I took this downstairs? I’d really like to look at it some more.”
“I think you’re deranged, but if you want to, sure.” She shrugged again, never taking her eyes off the computer.
Seth held onto the book and finished the Coke. He was about to toss the can in the trash can by the desk when Abby said, “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Give me the can.”
Seth gave her the empty can, and she placed it with hers on the desk. She appeared to give great consideration to their precise arrangement, recreating the level of organized chaos she required for her writing environment. Kind of odd, but cute.
Abby rose from the desk, and they headed to the kitchen. She nodded in the direction of the well-stocked fridge. “Go ahead and get what you want. I need to make sure Butch’s repair job didn’t leak.”
Seth detoured to drop the book on the table on his side of the bed. He smiled a little at the thought he had a “his side of the bed.” He snagged a plate and dished up some chicken and potato salad, settled at the breakfast bar, and listened to the rain while he ate.
Abby joined him a few minutes later and reported the guest room remained dry.
“Getting tired?” she asked.
“It has been a long day.”
“We should definitely go back to bed, then.” The smile appearing on her face, however, was definitely more salacious than somnolent. Seth wholeheartedly approved.
As they passed the couch, Abby collected their discarded clothes and dropped them in the hamper in the bedroom, muttering about not making things too easy for her mother.
When she turned, he was waiting for her. Without a word, he gently removed the clothes she had put on for her trip upstairs. He slipped out of his own and joined her in the welcoming embrace of the bed.
He pulled the blanket over them and they curled together, their bodies creating a cozy, warm nest. He lay there, contemplating how fortunate he was to be holding this woman in his arms. She was already as vital to him as his next breath, and he wondered how it happened. If he’d met her five years ago, would it have been the same way? Or did it work only because he was ready—and maybe even destined—for her at this precise point in his life?
He decided he didn’t care why. It just was, and nothing else mattered. For the first time in too long Seth felt music gathering in his head. He had to write a song for her. Songs. Probably a whole CD. A double set. She was beautiful and brilliant. She was creative and quirky and sexy as hell. He needed to take care of her, but he also felt like he’d found his own sanctuary when he was with her. She could be sweet and agreeable, but when push came to shove, she was definitely not someone to cross. He still couldn’t believe how she’d gone to bat for him when Trent was giving him a hard time for not showing appropriate grief over the news about Stacy. Abby could take down a vandal, plot to kick in her ex-husband’s head, and then make him laugh and completely forget the turmoil of the day. And he couldn’t get enough of her.
He realized, based on the significant discomfort in the vicinity of his groin, he’d gotten his second wind. Or was it the third? Didn’t matter. He definitely knew what to do about it.
He brought Abby’s back against his chest, and ran his hands over her full, responsive breasts. A strangled purr escaped her throat, and she arched, pressing her hips against him. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her fragrance as he lowered one hand to her waist. Sweeping to her back and over the swell of her bottom, he delved further until his fingers were exploring her wet, lush depths. She bent one knee to give him greater access. His other arm was under her, just beneath her shoulders, and that hand enjoyed the silky skin of her breasts and belly.
She reached behind her and wrapped her fingers around him. She adjusted his angle until he was able to press inside her, and shifted her hips until he was completely sh
eathed in her intoxicating heat.
He trailed his fingers back over the slope of her hip until he was able to reach the slick bud, which was tangible evidence of her arousal. Gliding, caressing, and breathing her in, his own rising tide drove him to become more insistent until she shuddered around him. Her inner muscles clenched, pulling him deeper, and a loose, rumbling sound of satisfaction rose from her chest. Her response was the trigger, sending him spiraling beyond control, and he pulled her firmly against his chest, murmuring his own satisfied sounds into her ear until their bodies stilled.
When he thought he could bear it, he withdrew, but only so she could turn in his arms to face him. Her face was flushed, her lips moist, and he once again thanked whatever forces responsible for allowing their paths to cross.
He floated his hand down her arm until he could grasp her fingers. He tucked their joined hands to his chest and kissed her. “Know what I was just thinking?”
“I might be too worn out to hear it for a few minutes,” she said.
“Funny. No, what I was thinking was it’s highly likely everybody else in the entire world who ever had sex was doing it wrong, but we have it figured out.”
Abby laughed softly. “You’re cute when you’re being corny.”
“I was kind of serious. I mean…the way you feel around me when you come…”
“It’s the way you make me feel.”
Though he’d like to make her feel that way again, he settled for kissing her until they both had to come up for air.
Abby wiggled into a sitting position and leaned back on a mound of pillows. Seth settled in beside her. She angled toward him, one hand on his chest. “I think maybe we should talk about…about what David brought up.”
While he’d wanted to have this conversation earlier, he was suddenly apprehensive. Everything right now felt so perfect. But could any conversation taking place in bed, naked, with her scent still all over him turn out badly? “Only if you’re ready,” he said.
“I am.”
It wasn’t exactly “I do,” but it was a start. “Okay. Go ahead.”
“It might be a deal breaker.”
He couldn’t imagine anything she could say that would change his mind about wanting to be with her, but his stomach still knotted as he waited for her to continue.
Her hand fidgeted on his chest, and he covered it with his own. She glanced down at their hands, then met his eyes again. “A couple of weeks after David left, I thought I had food poisoning. Really awful abdominal pain. But I started bleeding. It turned out I’d been pregnant, maybe four or five weeks. I hadn’t even known. My whole system was messed up with all the stress and it never occurred to me.”
He slid one arm under her shoulders and hugged her a little more closely to him. “Were you planning on kids? You know, before?”
She shrugged. “We never discussed it. We should have. I guess on some level I assumed we would, but I was only twenty-eight. I figured I had plenty of time. Anyway, when it happened, I was a mess. It was one more loss, you know? On top of my marriage, my dad, and even Duffy, I’d lost a baby too. I was also royally pissed, because I felt like the world had made the decision for me, before I even knew there was a decision to make.”
His heart was wrenched by the raw emotion in her voice and the anger-tinted grief in her eyes. She’d had everything taken from her at once and she lost something else, something with the potential to be as important as all the rest put together. “I’m sorry, darlin’. Nothing like being kicked when you’re down.”
“Exactly. But what if I hadn’t lost the baby? What would life have been like? I didn’t know. So I thought about it a lot, and I came to a conclusion.” She leaned toward him and brushed her lips along his jaw and sat back. “I don’t plan to have kids, Seth. I don’t want the responsibility of raising another human being.” She glanced away. “Maybe it’s selfish. I’ll understand if you can’t accept it. You probably want kids, a family. So I thought you should know, before we talk about anything else.”
Seth knew the way he reacted to this was crucial. It was her decision, and he had no right to try to influence her. “Well, even if two people agree on whether or not to have kids, one or both of them could end up changing their minds.”
“I can’t promise you I’ll ever change my mind, Seth.” There was sorrow, and maybe a little fear in her voice.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” He’d have to be honest, but explain it in a way that wouldn’t make her feel cornered. “I guess I always assumed I’d be a father someday, but I never gave it a lot of thought. I haven’t exactly been in any relationships where the topic would come up.”
Abby shifted at his side and tucked the corner of the blanket against her hip. “It’s why we’re talking about it now, so soon. I mean, you’re asking me to leave here with you, and it’s not fair to either of us to let this keep going if we know it has to end eventually because we don’t want the same things. It’s not like you can compromise and ‘sort of’ have kids.”
She was right. “Another reason I haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about it is I imagined it would be later, when I’m a little older, maybe not on the road as much.” He’d seen a lot of musicians who barely knew their own children. If he had a family, he wanted to really be a part of it.
“You also have to remember I’m already thirty-four. Assuming I did change my mind, I sure wouldn’t plan on having my first baby in my mid-forties.”
Seth propped himself up on one elbow and leaned toward Abby. She’d been slowly inching away, and he didn’t like it. “I know I want to be with you. And I can honestly say any thoughts I’ve had about being a dad were more abstract. Somebody. Someday. I do need to think it through now, though, but in the context of the two of us.” He rubbed her shoulder and felt some of her tension release. “I love seeing my nieces and nephews, and Pete’s amazing with his daughter. But it’s them, their lives. It’s not me and you, which makes a big difference.” Was the desire to be a parent strong enough to merit a future without Abby? This kind of responsible life planning was a whole new thing for him. He’d fallen hard for her, and he knew she’d sense it if he tried to evade the question to keep her by his side a while longer.
Abby curled against him, and he thought he might not have screwed up the conversation too badly. “That’s fair,” she said. “You asked me to make a big decision, and this one’s yours. We have to be really sure, because there’s not a lot of middle ground.”
“As long as we’re both honest, with each other and ourselves, we can’t be wrong. Whatever decisions we make will be the right ones.”
He knew he’d said the right thing when Abby hugged him until her arms trembled. He understood on some level why he’d never asked himself this important question. As he’d told her, he’d never found himself at a point in his life where it was relevant. Just like she had done in her relationship with The Asshole, he’d assumed someday his life would involve kids. But would it? Did he really want the responsibility, or was he only interested in the idea of being a parent? It was an important distinction, and he owed it to himself—and to Abby—to make sure he came up with an honest answer.
He surprised himself with the discovery he hadn’t quite exhausted his stamina for the evening. He moved all thoughts of decision making to the back burner and made love to Abby again, with infinite attention to detail. He was so grateful regardless of the foolish things he might have done in the past, nothing kept him from bringing Abby into his life. They fell asleep as the rain fell and the wind rattled the eaves.
They slept soundly until the barking started.
Chapter Fourteen
Abby
Abby blinked in the darkness and tried to determine what woke her. She sat up and strained to identify the sound. The rain had stopped, and only the faintest whisper of breeze in the trees could still be detected.
Beside her, Seth stirred. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. Something woke me up.” Sh
e heard a several sharp, insistent barks. The tension left her in a rush. “Dilbert. He must have gotten off the Nygaards’ porch and decided to come here.” She pushed back the comforter and started to get out of bed.
“I can go,” Seth offered.
His fuzzy voice indicated he was still seventy-five percent asleep, so she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be back in a second.”
She grabbed her robe from the back of the door and made her way through the living room. Dilbert stood on the deck, peering monocularly into the darkened house. When he saw her, his tail waved, and Abby hurried to unlock the door so he could enter.
While she relocked the door, Dilbert dashed straight for the bedroom. When she caught up with him, she found the damp black dog curled on her side of the bed, his head on her pillow.
“Dilbert, off.” It was hard to be stern when whispering, she discovered. She pulled a large dog pillow from underneath the bed and took Dilbert by the collar and guided him onto it. “Normally I wouldn’t mind, but you’re not exactly dry and fluffy at the moment.” She rubbed his silky ears and smiled as he gave her a disgruntled huff before curling into a ball and settling in for what remained of the night.
Seth barely moved when she slid back into bed. The pale moonlight washed across his sleeping form, and she felt awestruck all over again. Seth had chosen to be here. With her. True, their future was far from certain. They had major life-altering decisions to make, not to mention the threat hanging over Seth’s head, and possibly hers. Her feelings for him had blasted through her emotional defenses as surely as the bomb had blown a hole in the wall of her house. If she lost him because she couldn’t give him what he wanted, she would have to accept it. But no maniac had the right to take Seth’s life, and she’d be damned if she let it happen.