by Shannyn Leah
“Come sit down,” Mrs. Calvert finally said after a long silence, tapping the top of the counter beside Abby. She prepared him a coffee...a black coffee.
“Yeah, come sit beside me.” Abby mimicked Mrs. Calvert’s tap on the counter while moving her feet off the stool. Riley reluctantly walked over and sat beside her, his shoulders still stiff like a wood board. Her willing fingers could massage some sweet almond oil into his tense muscles and make him forget whatever was stressing him. The image of Riley sprawled out on his bed and Abby on top, naked, dripping oil across his back and kneading it deep into his skin warmed the area between her legs.
“Are you just going to bed too?” Mrs. Calvert arched a brow at him. Friendly, but curious and very unlike the private woman.
Abby stifled a smile as he struggled to figure out the best way to answer Mrs. Calvert. He could point blank just say they weren’t sleeping together and put all three of them at ease, but he didn’t. Abby found herself enjoying his squirming. Squirming was good for the man who did it so very seldom.
Chapter Eight
“YOU KNOW SHE thinks we’re sleeping together,” Abby said, once Mrs. C, went back into the kitchen through the swinging doors.
Yeah, he was well aware of Mrs. C’s misinterpretation of the two of them ending up downstairs in her bakery in the early hours of the morning.
“If you hadn’t walked in without a shirt on and your muscle wall causing my mouth to drop...” Abby’s small fingers ran across his chest like electric waves, pulling him away from his thoughts about poor Mrs. C. If she hadn’t scared the shit out of him by leaving without telling him, he would have spent the extra minutes grabbing a shirt from the closet.
Riley caught her hand and sent her a quit it look. A waste of time since they never fazed this woman, more than half the time she just ignored them and continued on with whatever she was doing.
“Don’t be flashing it all around then. A girl can only handle so much of the Riley nakedness without wanting to touch and caress it.”
Touch it? Caress it!
“And I’ve had plenty of it in the last couple nights.”
How did she go from scared, tired and shy crawling into his bed to full on sexual foreplay? How did his body turn off the fear and accept the desire she was dishing out? Abby wasn’t being serious, but it didn’t stop him from wondering what her real foreplay sounded like. Would she use that low husky voice she sometimes teased him with or would she play with the naughty glimmer in her eyes whenever she did something she really shouldn’t? Either sounded good.
No. Both sounded bad. Very, very bad.
“Riley?” She snapped her fingers in his face and he snapped his attention back to her...the present her, not the fantasy he was creating in his head. “I was kidding. Would you relax.”
If only he could remember what she was kidding about.
His hand remained wrapped around the entire distance of her tiny wrist. The touch ignited a roar of heated fire in the space between them. He glanced up and caught her furrowing her brow, he had learned this was her unsure look. Then their eyes locked unto each other.
Uh-oh.
Abby’s gorgeous dark eyes stared at him like he was a piece of candy out of one of the bags stashed behind the television. Riley favored her eyes after she had wiped away the makeup and let her true glimmer shine through. Currently they were reflecting the same passion as his.
Passion? Damn it. No.
They sat there for what felt like a lifetime, him holding her wrist, the touch of their skin hot, sending heat in a slow rush of pleasure through his body. He thought she was feeling the same thing, he could see it in her eyes.
“Riley...” A low whisper that made him swallow hard before saying, “Yeah...”
Riley forgot Mrs. C was a few feet away with only a swinging door between them. He forgot for a moment his past, his guilt, his hurt and he opened his body to what was true right at that moment...his feelings for Abby and they were so overwhelming, so strong, so incredibly nothing like he’d ever felt before. Was he going to kiss her? He wanted to kiss her.
“You’re making my panties hot. Let go of my wrist before I mount you right here.”
A hard, cold slap of reality in the face. Boy, she had the touch. He wished she had more conviction in the statement to solidify the slap and not the breathy purr.
Abby swallowed hard too, while a nervous look crossed her face.
Riley released her wrist and she retracted it, touching it with her other hand, making his now empty hand jealous, but their eyes never broke contact.
“Well that’s disappointing,” she mumbled, turning her focus to the baked good she’d snuck from the case.
Riley let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding but his eyes never moved from her.
Abby was covering up whatever had just occurred between them with a joke. She was just as hot for him as he was for her...or was she just playing him? By the enjoyment she was having sucking the icing off one of her long fingers he would say she was playing him. But the way that finger had a slight tremble he would almost believe she was masking her lust for him with fake lust. That was confusing. It’s not confusing, it’s simple...it doesn’t matter if it’s real lust between us or not, because you’re life is headed down a dead trail and you’re travelling it alone.
The way she was sucking that finger was turning his blood from simmer to boil.
She glanced up, clearly not knowing what was running through his mind. “What?” she snapped.
Was she angry he was staring? Angry he wanted to stare? Or angry that she wanted him to stare?
He shook his head mentally. “You’re wearing my shirt,” he said dryly.
Abby looked down, grabbed the edge of the t-shirt and her true laughter erupted, taking the edge off the situation.
“Oh man,” she gasped, touching his arm again in her fit of giggles. “This is totally my fault. I’m so sorry.” She was too busy laughing to notice the effect her hand was having on his skin.
Mrs. C set a plate in front of him.
Mrs. C. Oh yeah.
There was that mess he was going to have to stitch back up. Mrs. C had a soft spot for Abby, even more so since Grace passed away. It was almost as if Abby filled a part of the void missing in Mrs. C from the loss of her own daughter. Abby could never replace her daughter, but the way Mrs. C watched over and protected her proved to be more than just that of a neighbor. She surely wouldn’t want Abby getting involved with him. Not physically anyway. He was in Mrs. C’s debt and held the highest respect for her. Besides, he didn’t want a relationship. Abby didn’t want a relationship either. So what the hell was going on between the two of them?
“What’s so funny?” she asked, catching Abby’s laughter.
“Mrs. Calvert this isn’t what it looks like,” Abby said. “I mean I’m wearing his shirt, which obviously you’ve taken into account and then he comes down flashing that tattooed bare chest that you know I’m a sucker for...” Mrs. C’s attempt to hold in her smile, as she tried to take Abby seriously, was priceless. She crossed her arms with a towel in one hand. “...and put that together...” Abby’s blunt honesty made everything one hundred times more awkward. “...I sleep on Riley’s couch.”
Except tonight when your warm body wiggled, and turned, letting out long sleepless groans with your hand constantly moving across my chest. That was in my bed and damn it felt good.
Mrs. C waved her hand in the air dismissing the explanation. “I didn’t ask.”
“We are just friends and not friends with benefits. Right, Riley?” When Abby looked at him to confirm her statement, he caught the unsure questioning in her eyes.
“Right. Just friends.”
Was that disappointment he noticed in Abby’s eyes?
Mrs. C looked back and forth between them. Did she catch the questioning followed by the disappointment in Abby’s eyes? What were his eyes saying?
“I already know you two are friends.”
Abby went back to her danish as Mrs. C went back through the swinging doors. Riley was left feeling like neither of the women believed him.
“Don’t you like your croissant?” Abby asked, when he hadn’t touched his plate.
Food? His mind couldn’t wrap itself around food. His gut couldn’t even stomach that when Mrs. C had it in her mind that he was stepping way past his boundaries. She’d obviously thought something was going on, why else would she be here so early.
“Here you can have some of mine.” Abby’s wet finger held a piece of the apple-filled danish toward him.
What exactly did she expect him to do, lick it off her finger or take that whole finger into his mouth and suck it all the way? Oh crap! It was way too early in the morning to focus.
Was she testing the no benefits boundaries? Because he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last tonight.
“No. I’m just curious how you’re so thin when you eat like a cat with a tapeworm?”
Yes, insults will keep away desires. You hope.
“Jealous?”
I’m jealous that I’m not that danish.
When Abby finished, she jumped off the stool. “I think I’m ready for bed.”
She stretched her arms high in the air and his t-shirt reached up to her shorts hugging her thighs.
“This is why I don’t understand why you deny us the pleasure. Say the word Riley and you could touch these legs all night long.” She rubbed her hands down her thighs as the t-shirt trailed over them.
He didn’t say a word. Was she was kidding or serious? Normally he would take it as a joke, tonight he swore there was pleading in her eyes.
“Good night,” he said. Shut this curiosity down. There was no way in hell they could go down this road.
Abby stared at him, the furrow of her forehead looked like she had something to say. Don’t say it Abby.
“Good night Riley,” she finally said and was gone like a puff of smoke from an exhaust: quick, makes a fuss, then vanishes.
When Mrs. C exited the kitchen and her eyes immediately fell to the empty seat where Abby had been sitting. “Where’s Abby?”
“She went back to bed.”
“Your bed?” He was surprised she asked which trapped more guilt and responsibility to clarify the situation.
“My apartment.”
“Is there a difference?” Mrs. C did want to know. Her respect for other people’s business was watertight and yet tonight her questions were spraying out like a broken dam.
“Yes.”
Riley could see by the look in her face she thought it was his bed, together, as a couple, even after Abby had tried to clear it up.
“Mrs. C it’s not like that.”
“It’s none of my business.” She turned away, looking embarrassed for butting in.
He leveled a serious look at her and waited for her to look at him before he spoke. “You know it is. We are not sleeping together.”
“Riley, honestly...”
Riley reached across the counter and took her objecting hands in his. “She’s not Dani.” He watched the emotion change in her eyes and wondered if she might pull away or even slap him for bringing up the name. “She’s not going to get hurt like Dani, I promise. That will never happen again.”
Mrs. C didn’t pull her trembling hand away. Instead, she squeezed his hands tighter. “You’re not the same person that you were back then.”
Why was this woman so nice to him? Why did she take him from the downfall he’d put himself into and help pick him back up? Why was she defending him right now when they both knew she was still afraid?
Riley didn’t feel like that same person, nor did he feel like the person who wanted to get involved with Abby McAdams. Or any other woman.
“I remember the rules,” he said.
“My rules never included you not dating or...having sex.”
He wanted to smirk the way she said the words as though it was naughty, but he remained straight-faced. “I am doing neither of those things with Abby McAdams. I know how you feel about her.”
“Do you know how I feel about you?” she asked and he was surprised he actually didn’t. He knew how he felt about her. Mrs. C was his savior when he didn’t deserve it.
What am I to you?
He shook his head, finding his words would not pass his lips.
“Riley, your place in my heart is equal to that of Abby’s. I worry about you just as I worry about her.” That was a strong statement. He couldn’t fathom how she even put him anywhere close to the same category as Abby. “I made those rules when I was hurting and for you to respect them all these years have shown me what kind of person you are. You helped me through the hardest years of my life.”
His chest tightened with his emotion at every word. He’d had no idea this was how Mrs. C felt about him. He figured she’d grown to accept him...possibly like him, but to put him on this pedestal was unbelievable...he didn’t deserve it.
“That’s the other way around Mrs. C.”
“I guess we helped each other.”
That was exactly the main reason he would not start anything with Abby. His respect, his love for Mrs. C ran deep. Now, he just had to keep his feelings in check when he was around Abby. It sounded way easier than being done.
Feeling like a weight had been lifted from his body and the comfort of Mrs. C’s perspective left him able to sit a little longer with Mrs. C and eat the croissant. When she didn’t need help yet, he climbed the stairs back to his apartment.
The light shining under the door told him Abby was watching television. Thank goodness. He didn’t think he could handle another jog, or if she’d fallen asleep in his bed.
Riley opened the door to find her eating...again...chips, no surprise, and laughing.
“I thought you were going to...sleep.” He almost said the word, bed, but didn’t want to give her any ideas.
Abby held her hand up to silence him, waited for the actors to say their lines on the television show, which he suspected she knew by heart, then another round of laughter came from deep down in her chest.
“I just ate a danish. I’m on a sugar high.” She held the chips out to him. “Want some? Come sit with me and watch this. It’s the funniest. I used to watch this with Peyton all the time.”
He glanced at the screen and it looked like a movie from the eighties. A teen movie.
“I’m going to sleep.” He walked past her. That was his mistake. He should have walked on the opposite side of the table, far away from the leg she reached out blocking him. At the same time her hand grabbed his, yanking him to sink on the sofa beside her.
She laughed again. “Do you want me to start it over? I will start it over.”
He’d learned it didn’t really matter what his response was, if she was suggesting it, she was going to follow through.
He leaned back as she reached for the remote off the coffee table and flashing her rear in his vision. This was going to be harder than he thought. He was glad when she sat back down, but as their sides brushed, he was on fire.
His head rested on the sofa and he closed his eyes. He was exhausted. He couldn’t keep up with this shooting star.
Chapter Nine
ABBY COULDN’T STAY awake for the entire movie. The late hour was catching up to her and weighed heavily on her eyes. The television flickered in and out as her eyes opened and closed still trying to catch the ending, but her exhaustion was winning.
Finally, she lay back on the arm of the sofa where her pillow was bunched up and her eyes fell to the other end where Riley had his head propped on the opposite arm, his eyes closed. He’d been sleeping through the entire movie.
She wiggled her bare feet just beside his chest and could feel the length of his body against her side. Why did she feel so...content around him? Why was his presence like her security blanket? Why did she want to crawl to the other end of the couch, wrap his arm around her and kiss his lips?
Because yo
u’re overly exhausted. Yeah that was it. Not.
She looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath, chasing away all her thoughts and deciding some well needed sleep was in order.
Her eyes fell back on Riley and his still exposed chest. Why hadn’t he put a shirt on? He’d been too distracted when he came back up from the bakery. Abby didn’t think it was a bad distraction glazing over his face since he hadn’t cranked at her when she pulled him down beside her, but she sensed there was something on his mind. Was it the same thing that was on her mind? Her thoughts included kissing, touching, staring at one another like they were ready to tear each other’s clothes right off...the list went on.
Abby sat up. Reaching for the blanket on the back of the couch, she pulled it down and over his long body while crawling to his side and pulling the blanket up around his shoulders.
Sitting on her knees, she watched his breathing. What is it about you that makes me feel like I can’t live without you?
“What are you doing awake?” he grumbled, half as cranky as he usually sounded.
It scared the crap out of her and she jumped at his voice.
He chuckled.
She slapped his leg. “You jerk.”
He tilted his face toward her and opened his eyes. “Why are you watching me sleep? It’s creeping me out. It’s a little stalkerish,” he teased, surprising her with a smile.
“I wasn’t watching you sleep.”
“What were you doing?”
The heat of his leg against the palm of her hand sizzled. “You were howling, but I was too terrified to wake you,” she lied.
Another chuckle. Abby had never seen him so at ease, like he had let down the walls he’d built around him. “What did I howl?” He played along.
The arm he had rested on his side moved and his fingers slid a piece of her hair behind her ear.
Why did he have to go and do things like that?
His hand lingered at the side of her face.
What are you doing Riley?
“Something about me going to my own house at night.” Tell me you don’t want me to leave.