“Once upon a time, they shared something real, Honor,” Patience admitted softly, slowly giving voice to her greatest fear. “It’s not beyond the inconceivable that Abel might wanna see if the fire still burns with her. God knows, she’d be willing enough to fan the flame.”
“Oh, please,” Honor snapped. “Angie pissed on that particular fire years ago. With gasoline. Nearly blew up the whole blasted town with her antics. Dear God, if Abel ever knew all the sins that woman has committed without his knowledge…” Honor shuddered.
“What are you talking about?” Patience asked with a frown. “I’m the one that told Abel she cheated on him, Honor. That is the worst of it.” Seeing Honor’s gaze shift guiltily to the side, Patience straightened. “Isn’t it?” When Honor bent her head to stare at her clasped hands, Patience felt her heart clench. “Oh, crap. Honor, what else is there? What doesn’t Abel know about that she-beast? Devil take it! What don’t I know?” she yelped.
“Nothing that’s any of our business, Patience. I don’t like to gossip and what I know won’t help you now. It’s somebody else’s secret, honey, and I won’t tell it unless there’s no other choice. But, if I ever believe that it will help you or Abel, I’ll share. I swear.”
Patience groaned. This was just like Honor. The woman knew enough secrets about the people of Paradise to fill the entire vault at Fort Knox, but she’d never divulge them unless there was no choice. It was her way, and honestly, it was one of her most endearing qualities. “Fine,” Patience huffed with a hard look at the other woman. “But you better pray I don’t find out that witch hasn’t done something else that’ll gut another good man. Abel was enough. Even I can remember when he was a faithful and decent guy. She’s the one that made him into a manslut. I swear, I just might kill her next time she ruins a man and put the entirety of the male population out of danger. It’d be a public service.”
“She doesn’t stand a chance with Abel, Patience,” Honor reiterated calmly. “That’s one thing you don’t need to worry about. Abel is required by his capacity as Paradise County’s attorney to work with her on Diego Fuentes’ daddy’s case. He doesn’t have a choice. He’s gotta tolerate her until that deed is done. She’s simply an evil that must be borne.”
“You got the evil part of that statement right,” Patience agreed bitterly.
“At any rate, Abel deserves to know about the baby, Patience. Maybe not today, but soon. You shouldn’t make a decision that will affect you both alone. It’s not fair to him. And, who knows…. He might surprise you. Stranger things have happened round these parts,” Honor added with a small shrug.
“Or, on the flip side, he could crush me with his reaction. I’m already unsure about having this kid, Hon. If he makes me feel even worse…”
“Then, you walk away knowing you tried to do the right thing and make your choice with a clear conscience. Patience, if you make a decision without him when this impacts you both, do you really think you could live with yourself?” Honor asked gently.
“No,” Patience answered unhappily.
“Then I think you know what you have to do, don’t you?” Honor queried quietly.
Heaving out a deep breath, Patience nodded. “I reckon I do. I guess I owe Paradise’s good attorney a meeting of the minds.”
“Yeah, you do. And speaking of minds, Try to keep an open one with him, Patience. Fight your nature and actually live up to your name.”
“Pardon?” Patience clipped, narrowing her eyes on the baby of the family.
“You know what I mean. Be patient. Squelch the pessimism that you wear around your neck like a shield for just a little while. Give our Mr. Turner the benefit of the doubt. This announcement is bound to come as a shock to Abel. He may need a beat or two to wrap his mind around this new reality,” Honor counseled sagely. “Although, I still think his reaction might well surprise you. Personally, I’ve always thought both Cain and Abel would be wonderful fathers. They certainly had a good one themselves. They know how a daddy should treat his son or daughter.”
“Well, today has been the day for surprises. And it’s barely past nine. What’s one more? I shouldn’t be the only one knocked on my ass by today’s revelations, should I? He’s a co-conspirator in this pregnancy predicament I’m facing. He should get to join the fun, too,” she reasoned aloud, rising from her cushioned seat on the couch to her feet. Cracking her neck, she inhaled a deep, cleansing breath. “I’m gonna do it. I’ll go get dressed, and then I’ll take a trip over to see him.”
“What? You mean, today as in TOday? Like right now?” Honor balked, surprised.
“Yep.” Patience nodded decisively. “I’m sensing this courage thing I’m experiencing might be a fleeting commodity. Better to go see him while the spirit and the body are both willing to work together. If I wait, I’ll chicken out and this kid will be twelve years old before I’m brave enough to think about telling his father he exists.”
Honor stood, too. “Alright. Then I’m gonna get out of here and let you get yourself together. Get a shower, put on a cute outfit and for heaven’s sake, do your makeup. You look like a ghost.”
“Yeah, well, you try hurling out your guts at zero foul early in the morning and see how much color you have left,” Patience complained, shaking her head at her little sister.
“Yes, well, it’ll all be worth it in the end,” Honor returned knowingly.
Patience wasn’t so sure about that but she smiled anyway. “I’ll put my best foot forward, baby sister. I swear,” she declared, holding up her right hand.
“That’d be more convincing if your hand was on a Bible,” Honor muttered before squaring her shoulders and staring down her sister. “I will expect a full report when you get back, Patience Orla, understand? I mean it. Don’t make me put the Hounds of Hell on your heels. I won’t like doing it, but I will,” she warned, referring to Paradise County’s one and only motorcycle club.
Smiling, Patience nodded. “You’ve got a marker held over Wrath’s head?” she asked on a chuckle, conjuring up an appealing image of the sexy town mechanic in her head and licking her lips. Nobody could blame her. The guy was one of the yummiest masculine specimens the town had to offer. “When’d you earn that debt of gratitude…and better yet, does Zeke know about it?” Patience teased. Heck, she wasn’t surprised. It was also no secret that most everybody in town – apparently Wrath included - owed Honor some kind of favor. Her sister did kind things for pretty much any and everybody. Whether it was making an elderly person a homemade meal when they were sick or sitting up all night with a worried Old Lady from the Hell Hounds when her Old Man decided to tie on a good one at the bar’s side of the café, her sister had performed all manner of good deeds. It wasn’t exactly earthshattering news that Wrath McKay would owe her sister a debt.
Honor sighed and stared down at the floor. “He still feels bad that one of his club prospects got drunk and gave me a hard time as I was leaving the café a few months back. For some reason, he thinks he owes me. I don’t know why. When Wrath saw what was happening, he nearly flattened that boy. After, Zeke ended up haulin’ the prospect to the ER and Wrath to the county jail for the night so he wouldn’t end up killin’ the boy…”
“Oh, I’d forgotten that little drama. But, I also think part of that arrest was that Zeke doesn’t like that Wrath’s a little sweet on you,” Patience shared truthfully. She’d seen how the divorced single dad had looked longingly at her baby sister more than once over the years. Patience had also seen Zeke growl more than one warning at the other man. Patience sensed that the Sheriff and the mechanic shared some history, but she’d never been quite nosy or brave enough to ask Zeke.
Honor merely rolled her eyes in response to her elder sister’s notion. “Zeke would never do such a thing,” she defended the Sheriff dutifully. “And Wrath is not sweet on me. He’s just a nice man that tries to look out for the women in this town. Just like Ezekiel.”
Patience choked back a laugh. “I wouldn’t let Zeke
hear you comparing him to Wrath, sis. That might just push our good lawman right over the edge where you’re concerned. He’s a mite territorial where you are concerned and he doesn’t cotton to the fact that Wrath seems to have developed a soft spot for you over the recent years.”
Honor frowned. “Can we just keep the focus on you right now? I’d say your current situation is all the excitement this family can handle right now. Just come find me when you get back, okay?”
“I will. Just do me a favor, though. Say a prayer for Abel, Honor. Hell, say one for me, too. Specifically, that I don’t give into the urges I’m feelin’ and impale him with his own letter opener.”
“You’re gonna be fine. You both are,” Honor decreed with a wink before slipping out of Patience’s apartment.
“God, I hope you’re right,” Patience whispered to the empty room as she pressed her hand to her belly.
Chapter Five
Shoving his hands into the deep pockets of his tailored navy trousers, Abel Turner stared gloomily out the bay window of his office while he tried to tune out the droning voice of the woman behind him. When the mountain range in the distance couldn’t managed to soothe his fraying temper, he quickly closed his eyes and attempted to remember if that incessant high pitched whine that continued to drone on behind him had ever irritated him quite as much as it did right now in this moment.
If he was truthful, he wasn’t quite sure what his problem was today. It wasn’t like he didn’t have years of practice perfecting the craft of ignoring the very existence of his ex-fiancé, Angela Hastings. Most days, she barely registered as a blip on his radar; he’d mostly relegated her to the deepest recesses of his mind – the memories of their time together only to ever be revisited when he was either very drunk or very lonely. Fortunately, he wasn’t a guy that drank to excess and he was rarely without the company of a beautiful woman. Truthfully, up until recently, he’d barely thought of the tall, willowy woman at all. It had been easy to forget about her when there were several hundred miles of distance safely separating them. After he’d broken off their engagement years ago, the woman had burnt rubber leaving Paradise, Tennessee, pursuing a career and more lucrative relationship waters in the great city of Atlanta.
He honestly couldn’t say that he hadn’t been too awfully sad to see the deceitful bitch go, either. In fact, if she’d gone a little bit farther (like over a rocky cliff into a very deep ocean) that would have been even better for him. In truth, by the time he and Angie had parted ways, he’d been elated to watch her little red convertible careening down the highway away from his hometown. The harsh truth was that she-monster had savaged his masculine pride with her cheating and lies over the several years they’d been together and if she hadn’t put at least the length of a state between them, he’d often wondered if he wouldn’t have tried to commit his own perfect crime.
Not that he was bitter.
Not at all.
He was just a man that believed in facts. And the fact was, he felt at least 99.999% certain that his ex-fiancé was a female version of Satan in human form. Or, at least, a reasonable facsimile of the authentic Dark Deity.
He’d thought (and prayed) that he’d rid himself of that particular evil in his life.
Unfortunately, now she was back. And evidently determined to earn his forgiveness and another chance at the matrimonial wheel with him.
Not fuckin’ likely, he thought with a silent sneer toward the window as she continued rambling behind him.
Angela didn’t seem to realize that his thoughts – and his dick – were now reserved for only one woman. And as God’s little cosmic prank on him, it appeared that the woman he wanted now was the one woman on Earth that had no problem resisting his charm.
Fuck it all – but, Patience McKinnon had wrecked him. And in her typical ‘go big or go home’ fashion, she hadn’t just been satisfied to wreck his world; she had to go and ruin him for all other women, too.
Yep, Patience was, indeed, that damned good. Between her natural beauty, sassy mouth and kickass body, there wasn’t a single quality about her that didn’t call to the inner caveman. Hell, all he had to do these days was be within thirty feet of her and he sported an instant woody. And when you added their chemistry between the sheets – that it should be reflected for the record - had been off the charts hot, his mind and body both unanimously agreed that she was The One for him. As in, The One – The one and the ONLY. As in, nobody else could even compare to her. Not that he was going to waste any more time on comparisons any longer. Other women didn’t even appear on his radar anymore. And that was saying a lot because, in his time, Abel Turner had enjoyed the company of a wide variety of women. It was just that when a man had tasted ambrosia from the gods, a guy didn’t go back and ask if those gods had anything sweeter. Fuck, no! He sat his ass down at the table and gorged himself on the most sublime nectar ever created.
Not that Patience didn’t have her faults. Oh, she did. Quite a few of them if he was counting. Which, he had. He was now putting them on a priority list to give her later for her to work on. You know, once the stubborn woman actually realized that they were meant to be together.
None of those faults, however, was anything he wouldn’t be able to overlook if it became necessary (like, if she burned his list and then his bed in protest).
Don’t misunderstand. He wasn’t going to give up on hoping a few of those faults disappeared altogether. Abel wouldn’t complain at all if he found a way to quell that pesky quick trigger temper she possessed. And if he could find a way to permanently eliminate that complete and devout wariness she had regarding any form of lasting commitment, he might just turn a cartwheels across the town square.
In the long run, though, he knew Patience would be worth the work it was gonna take to cleave her to him for all eternity. He just prayed he’d be able to keep an actual cleaver out of her hot little hands during the process.
Of course, the whole cleaving situation was becoming a bit of a problem.
Everything he’d tried to do to get her attention in the last few weeks had failed mightily, and he wanted to shake his head at the time they were wasting fighting when they could be together fucking.
He’d tried confronting the infuriatingly obstinate woman after their shared night of passion, but Patience had made avoiding him into an art form. Like a trained ninja, if he zigged, she zagged. If he went left, she went right. If he feinted, she parried. The only good thing he could say about the whole situation was that they were giving their little town a hell of a comedy show. Screw Laurel and Hardy. Paradise County had Patience and Abel.
Everybody found it funnier than hell the way they’d been waging relationship war on one another.
Except he wasn’t laughing.
Not even close. This shit was far from fucking funny! Especially not after the past week.
“Abel Turner?! Dammit, are you even listenin’ to a word I’m saying to you?” an unamused voice asked impatiently from behind him, pulling a wince from his impassive face as it continued to look aimlessly out his office window into the sunny morning.
“I doubt it, sugar. You’re simply not that interestin’ to any of us,” Abel heard a lyrical drawl reply to Angie’s whiny question. Turning, he was immediately met with the twinkling jade eyes of his right-hand woman, Margaret Winstead. Barely holding back his grin, he offered the woman he thought of as his sister a playful wink. He and Maggie had been through thick and thin together; they were a team. And Maggie, like him, abhorred Angela. The only difference being, Mags had always despised Angela. Hell, some days, he thought his fiery office manager and sole paralegal might hate her even more than he did for what she’d done to him all those years ago. Margaret certainly never missed an opportunity to put his ex in her place.
Finally turning his attention toward his ex-fiancé when he heard her outraged gasp, he couldn’t help shaking his head as he watched Angela’s eyes narrow on his own plucky paralegal. He could see his assistant was in f
ine form today. Dressed from head to toe in designer labels, her hair perfectly coiffed, Maggie looked like she could have just stepped off the runway in Paris or Milan. She certainly didn’t look like the type of woman that would be sitting in his office, with a pen poised over a legal pad. But then, Mags broke the mold in many ways. Richer than sin, she worked for Abel because she’d wanted a challenge – and to hear all the latest gossip. Her paycheck was regularly donated to the charity of his choice because it was her passive-aggressive way of reminding him that his money held no meaning for her. Maggie was special like that. The woman also happened to be Patience’s best friend, so she, too, was beyond just a little aggrieved to be dealing with the woman he would have foolishly married just a few years ago.
Not that he was too worried about her – Maggie could more than hold her own in a battle of wills. She’d make mincemeat of his ex if he allowed it. And he just might if Angie didn’t tone down that infernal whine of hers to a decibel that didn’t make him want to shove an ice pick through his eardrum.
“Abel,” Angie growled through clenched teeth as she visibly struggled to maintain her cool demeanor, “Is there any reason that the help needs to be included in our meeting?” she asked with a withering look at Margaret. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and get us all a cup of coffee, Margaret?”
Shooting a nervous look toward Maggie, Vivian Miller, Angie’s colleague and second chair on the Fuente’s case, shook her head. “Speak for yourself, Angela. Firstly, I, for one, don’t need any coffee and if I did want some, I wouldn’t expect to be waited on like some fair maiden of the castle; I’d get off my ass and get it myself like a real woman does. Second, I’m still confused over what this meeting was supposed to accomplish. It sounds to me like you’re more interested in reestablishing a love connection with Mr. Turner than developing an adequate defense of our client’s actions with regard to the Fuentes cartel,” she rebuked sharply, her eyes narrowing on her fellow partner in their law firm. “Are we here to try a case or to reconnect you with your long lost soul mate? I, for one, came up here to do a job and really have no interest in playing a part in your own personal soap opera. This has been our fourth trip to Paradise in the last few months. And I don’t think our managing partners at the firm would be pleased by what’s going on here, either. And that’s to say nothing about what our very, very scary client might have to say about your actions,” she finished informing Angie in a voice that would cut glass.
Ready, Willing and Abel (Passion in Paradise: The Men of the McKinnon Sisters Book 3) Page 12