Falling for the Good Guy (NICE GIRL TO LOVE)

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Falling for the Good Guy (NICE GIRL TO LOVE) Page 9

by Violet Duke


  “Abby, stop,” he managed finally

  “What’s the matter?” She paused. “Don’t you want me to?”

  He heaved his head up and gave her an are-you-out-of-your-mind look. “Hell yes, I want you to, but…” Thunk. But what? The good guy in him was insisting he take care of her needs first, while the crazy-in-love part of him was demanding he do one better and take care of her needs multiple times before even thinking of his own.

  But then there was the more basal, totally male part of him grunting that he wanted to feel those lush lips on him right now.

  “You’re thinking too much. Here...let me make the decision easier for you.” Slowly, languidly, she swiped her tongue over the tip of his erection, which had overeagerly pushed its way past his waistband.

  Holy hell.

  “You don’t have to do that, honey,” he managed to get out...barely. “I’m plenty ready for you as is.” Beyond ready.

  Gritting his teeth, he tried silently counting by prime numbers to keep his body in check.

  Yeah...now what comes after three again?

  “I know I don’t have to.” She licked over him again. “I want to.”

  Jesus Christ. “Six years celibate, Abby,” he ground out. “If you keep that up, I won’t last the next six seconds.”

  “Even more reason why I shouldn’t stop.” Another mind-bending tongue flick. “Won’t this help make the next round less hurried?” she reasoned.

  Highly unlikely. He was pretty sure he was going to be quick off the trigger for at least the first dozen or so rounds.

  “Don’t you want to come in my mouth, Brian?”

  He was a goner. A strangled groan was his only reply.

  She nibbled over the hard lines of his abs and ran her tongue over the crazy-sensitive skin just below. “I wanted to do this to you the day you were in here wearing nothing but your towel. Could you tell? Could you tell I wanted to slip my tongue right into this hollow here?” She licked over a spot at his hip. “Or that I wanted so desperately to tug that towel open so I could do this?” She stroked her hand slowly down to the base of his erection and held him firm as she bent down and blew a stream of air against his now painfully captivated hard-on.

  The woman was trying to kill him.

  He felt her hot little tongue gliding over his skin then, tasting, torturing him from base to tip.

  Definitely trying to kill him. “Abby,” he warned raggedly.

  With that same wicked glint in her eyes, she held his gaze for an overlong beat before sliding him past her lips—inch by slow inch.

  And then she swallowed him deep.

  A throttled groan burst past his lips and he bucked helplessly as she drew back to take the entire length of him again. And again. Hands clenched at his sides, fire in his veins, he tried to hold back, but the liquid heat of her mouth, the searing desire burning in her eyes as she held his gaze pushed him past his breaking point.

  His hands fisted gently in her hair and he pumped his hips, control a fleeting memory now as shockwaves of electricity shot straight to the base of his spine. He unleashed a muffled shout and every muscle in his body locked as his release barreled through him, pummeled him with wave after wave of raw, savage pleasure that quickly sent him crashing into an abyss.

  It felt like an eternity passed before he slowly came falling back down to earth.

  “Come here,” he murmured thickly, pulling Abby up to lay across his chest.

  Skin flushed, eyes half-drunk with need, she placed her hot cheek against his racing heartbeat and whispered, “I love you,” against his skin.

  And just like that, he was ready for her again.

  “Get ready to test your theory about the next round, sweetheart.” He flipped her onto her back and slipped between her legs. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you...”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “THANKS FOR THE RIDE, dad. Love you.”

  “I love you too, Sky-bug.” Brian kissed the top of Skylar’s head and winked at Abby. “You too, Abby-bee.”

  Abby felt that now familiar added thump in her heartbeat whenever he directed those three words at her. She never used to. He’d been telling her he loved her for years now, practically since the week they became friends. He was just that kind of guy—more generous with his affection than his entire family put together. Times twenty. Though Abby had only been to a few barbeques and parties with Brian when Connor was in attendance, she still remembered how Brian never failed to track Connor down at the end of the night to give him a hug and tell him he loved him…after which, Connor would always reply with a wordless, albeit affectionate, pat on the back.

  She realized now how much she’d missed hearing Brian say those words to her the month she’d spent with Connor.

  And now…now, the words meant so much more. She didn’t know when exactly it had happened. It was untraceable and almost undefinable when the shift had occurred in their relationship. But somehow, that made it feel that much more meant to be. The words didn’t sound any different, but if certainly felt it. Just as it felt and meant so much more when she said the words back to him now.

  She loved him.

  So much so that her heart couldn’t remember how it felt not to love him.

  “I’ll be back at the mall entrance in three hours to pick you girls up. Have fun dress shopping. And remember, nothing says high-fashion like turtleneck dresses that go all the way down to the ankle.” As he headed back to the parking lot, Brian shot Abby a totally ‘dad’ look that said he was not kidding. Abby smothered a laugh. She could only imagine what sorts of dresses he’d pick out for Skylar’s first school dance.

  Nuns’ habits came to mind.

  “That’s so cute that dad calls you Abby-bee. It’s so much prettier than Sky-bug.” Though Skylar crinkled her nose at the endearment, Abby could see the underlying smile peeking through as well. “I like that he’s starting to use nicknames again.”

  Come to think of it, Skylar was right; it had been a while. With everything going on the past few years, she hadn’t really stopped to analyze it. “It was really more something he did back when we were taking undergrad classes together,” Abby reasoned. “Your dad was big with the nicknames back then.” Smiling, she reminisced, “If I recall correctly, it was always insect or animal names for his close friends, while he reserved all the food item names for your mother.”

  “Really?” Skylar frowned. “I don’t remember that.”

  Abby’s smile faded. She forgot that for the latter part of Beth’s life, Brian hadn’t been able to call her anything other than her given and maiden name because of her dementia. Nicknames and her married name used to confuse her, even distress her at times.

  Was that why Brian had slowly stopped using nicknames altogether the past five years?

  Linking her arm through Skylar’s, Abby decided to stroll them both down memory lane. “You were probably too young to remember but yup, it was always food nicknames for your mom. Your dad was always trying out new ones, too. And some of ‘em were really bad. Nutmeg and Honeybun definitely didn’t last, neither did Buttercup or Cupcake, for that matter.” She laughed when Skylar made a face.

  “Those sound like puppy names.”

  “That’s exactly why your mom vetoed them. But the rest, she got a kick out of. I remember she used to love it when he’d call her babycakes or sugarlips, usually because he’d also be apologizing and telling her she was right about something. Those also happened to be the nicknames he used when he’d buy her gifts for no reason at all, and what she’d sign her little love notes to him with.”

  “Awww.” Skylar clutched her hands to her chest.

  “Yeah, no one could pull off the cute like your folks could. They were nauseatingly adorable,” smiled Abby, shaking her head. “Sometimes, listening to them sling nicknames at each other was like being in the middle of a ping pong match. He’d call her small fry, she’d volley back with snickerdoodle, and he’d return with whiskey brisket…those two
could round food items from every meal of the day before the end of the night.”

  “That’s where you and your mom are so much alike. Just like you, your mom could always give your dad a run for his money when they’d go toe-to-toe in a verbal debate.”

  Skylar grew silent then.

  Abby reached over and smoothed Skylar’s hair back over her ear. “Sweetie, do you wish it were your mom here taking you shopping for your first dance? It’s okay if you do. I know this is the sort of thing girls picture doing with their mothers.” Somehow, Abby managed to keep the wobble out of her voice when she said that.

  Startled, Skylar’s glanced up at her and bit her lip. “I of course wish she could be here, but not in place of you. I mean I hardly remember her, you know? Honestly, you’re more like my—” Her eyes widened sharply a split-second before she snapped her jaw shut.

  Abby felt her heart swell to double its capacity, and then split at the seams over the reality they continued to face every day—the fact that neither of them could ever finish that very sentence.

  Not without stepping all over Beth’s grave.

  But the truth of it was that even before Beth had passed away, even before she’d become bedridden, Abby had been a part of Skylar’s life nearly every day since she was born. Aside from the month she’d spent with Connor, Abby could count on one hand how many times she’d gone more than a few days without seeing or at least talking to Skylar.

  From every diaper she’d changed to every cut and scrape she’d kissed and made better, Abby had been there for Skylar in every way that a parent could be. She’d raised her as if she were her own daughter. She’d picked her up from preschool nearly every day, and read her bedtime stories almost every night. She’d taught her how to tie her shoes, how to braid her hair, and how to bake the cookies she loved so much.

  But every time someone would mistakenly assume she was Skylar’s mom, at the park or at a store, Abby would have to make the same heartwrenching correction: “No, I’m just a family friend.” Because by definition, that’s all she was. She wasn’t an adoptive parent or even a stepmom. She was Skylar’s dad’s best friend. Nowhere in books or movies did someone like her ever, ever get qualified as the mother.

  But even though Abby had never been able to say the words, she’d long felt them in her heart. Hearing Skylar almost, almost say the words as well had Abby so choked up, she found herself unable to do more than a Connor-pat on Skylar’s back.

  They both knew what it meant.

  BRIAN LOOKED UP from his smartphone and just stared at the sight before him. He knew he was probably smiling like a fool but he couldn’t help it. Seeing Skylar and Abby walking through the mall together made for the prototypical mother-daughter photo op any marketer would kill to capture. That ever-present connection, the undefinable distinction that made you know when you were seeing a mother and daughter together? He was looking at it right now.

  And yet again, just like she’d done nearly thirteen years ago, he found Abby filling another void in his life that he hadn’t fully acknowledged was missing. Like the important puzzle piece he’d always needed without even knowing it, she just…fit. And evidently not just for him; for Skylar as well. It was clear that Abby was now filling a once empty spot in the canvas of both their lives; so much so that he simply couldn’t see how they’d survive it ever being left empty again.

  “Dad!”

  Brian tore his eyes off of Abby and smiled at the hyperactive jumping bean flying into his arms. Per usual, Skylar was her chatterbox self, excitedly giving him a quick kiss on the cheek mid-hop while she described the hundreds of dresses she tried on today. Meanwhile, Abby came over to curl an arm around his waist and give him a gentle hello squeeze while smiling indulgently at Skylar and nodding her agreement with every undoubtedly exaggerated recount of their shopping excursion today.

  Brian wrapped an arm around Abby’s shoulders and kept on smiling like a fool. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this happy, the last time he’d felt this whole.

  Ears and brain humming to a sappy tune, he found he’d missed half of Skylar’s animated description of her dress by the time he was no longer singing the lead in his mental musical.

  …Save the last part about it being sparkly…oh, and strapless with a hip-high skirt.

  “Your dress is what with a what?” he sputtered, gaping at Abby and feeling utterly betrayed. She was supposed to have been on his side, had his back during this shopping trip—‘Sunday school chic’ was specifically what he’d requested for his little girl.

  “Dad, it’s so hot. You have to see it.” Skylar began rummaging through her bag to show him this so-called ‘hot’ dress. “Everyone’s wearing dresses just like it in all the teen magazines. And it’s so tight, it fits me perfectly.”

  He was starting to see colored spots in his vision.

  “Relax, Brian. It’s a little different from what we discussed but she’s right, nearly every teen starlet is wearing something like it on TV and in magazines. It’s a very ‘in’ look right now. Plus, it made her so happy.”

  Brian turned a disappointed side-eye at Abby and quietly hissed, “You can’t just give in when she asks you for things that aren’t appropriate for her, Abby.” Dammit, she was usually so good about the responsible mother thing.

  “Well, what do you think? Don’t you love it, Dad?”

  He was afraid to look. Taking a deep, calming breath and putting a break-open-in-case-of-emergency glass seal on his dad-temper, he peeked open one eye to scan the dress…and sagged with relief.

  “Gotcha!” The two cackling hyenas dissolved into a puddle of laughter, while they championed the fairly demure, rather sweet, pale blue dress for his perusal. Yes, the dress was sleeveless but with a semi-transparent lace overlay that went all the way up to her collarbone, thanks to a lightly-jeweled choker-style collar. Best part, the skirt landed at about her calves. It wasn’t quite as keep-ten-feet-away-from-my-daughter as he would’ve liked, but it was pretty and really very modest.

  “You two almost gave me a freakin’ heart attack.”

  Still unable to keep her little giggle-bursts fully in check, Abby picked herself back up off the bench to give him a hug as a peace offering. “I’m sorry, we just couldn’t resist.”

  “Yeah, dad, you should’ve seen your face.”

  “We should’ve taken a picture!” The declaration came out in stereo and the hyenas were back.

  “Jinx!” They laughingly called out, again in unison.

  Despite himself, Brian joined in the laughter at his expense.

  This right here was everything he’d desperately wanted for so many years. And he had it now.

  Because of Abby.

  ABBY WAS JUST FINISHING up the pot roast in the crockpot when the doorbell rang.

  From the kitchen, she couldn’t see out the front door, but she could definitely make out Brian’s sudden rigid posture when he saw whoever it was that was standing out on his porch.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Abby froze. Even from halfway across the house, she could hear the barely leashed hostility in Brian’s acidic tone. To her knowledge, only one person had ever inspired that kind of ire in Brian. And in Connor for that matter.

  Marcus Sullivan. Their ‘father.’

  Yes, the air quotes were entirely necessary.

  Checking to see that Skylar was still in her room doing her homework, she was actually glad to see her studying on her bed with her earphones on. Normally, she discouraged the habit of Skylar blasting that ear-numbing music in her ears, but today, she was thankful for it. This was not going to be pretty.

  “Is it just me, or have the Sullivan son greetings gone downhill in the past few years?”

  Lordy, but she hated that man’s voice.

  “What do you want, Marcus?” returned Brian coldly.

  “How sad, I don’t even get a ‘father’ anymore...so I guess this means you aren’t inviting me in.”

  “Have
I ever?”

  “No, you haven’t. And thank you for that reminder. I’ll be sure to remember that little tidbit when I get deposed in court this week.”

  That’s right, the court proceedings for Marcus and Helen’s divorce were going to start in a few days—she’d completely forgotten.

  Brian’s voice became even icier. “Why would you bother bringing that up? Or me at all for that matter? I’d prefer you just leave me the hell out of it.”

  “I can’t very well do that. You are, after all, my only legitimate son. It’s a given that you’re going to come up throughout the settlement talks. A lot.”

  His only what?

  Abby watched as Brian’s hands fisted in anger. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh son, we both know I most certainly would. But I digress; that’s not why I stopped by today. I just wanted to drop off this little receipt. You see, I’ve taken care of all of Skylar’s recent medical expenses in full. No need to thank me.”

  Brian eyed the envelope, refusing to touch it. “What the hell kind of game are you playing at?”

  “Game? What game could I possibly be playing by taking care of a medical expense for my granddaughter?”

  “You’ve never cared about that girl a day in her life, Marcus. We don’t want your money. I’ll call the hospital in the morning to cancel your payment.”

  “It’s already gone through,” came the smug reply.

  Brian’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You can’t possibly believe that one little act of fake grandfatherly kindness is going to convince the judge that you’re a halfway decent person. Mom’s still going to take you to the cleaners.”

  “Oh, how sweet. You’re calling her ‘mom’ now. Tell me, was this before or after she stopped being a raging alcoholic?”

 

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