Someone Like You

by Jennifer Gracen

  “Okay.” She moved to press her lips to his, kissing him tenderly before she said, “Let’s try this. I’d love to see where this takes us. Hey, if nothing else, I’m sure being your girlfriend won’t be boring.”

  He chuckled at that and said, “That much, I can guarantee you.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” She smiled back, kissed him again, and said softly, “I’m in.”

  His mouth curved up as an enchanted smile spread across his face. “Good. We’re in this together now.” Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her, long and deep and slow. “This should be interesting.” His smile turned radiant. “In the best way.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Abby was still laughing from Pierce’s joke as they walked into her house late on a Tuesday night. He’d wanted to see her, but she’d had things to do for school. So they’d done both; he took her out to an early dinner, then he’d gone to the craft store with her. He’d pushed the shopping cart behind her as she went up and down the aisles, finding every item on her handwritten list, which of course he teased her about. Now, he was helping her carry the many bags inside, joking about glitter and lap dances and being ridiculous and she couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Is that everything?” he asked.

  “I think so,” Abby said, looking down at the nine or ten plastic bags on the dining room table. “I left my bag in the car, though. Go sit on the couch, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

  She went outside, grabbed her handbag off the backseat, closed the car door, and looked up at the night sky. The air was cool and crisp, with a hint of wood smoke—one of her very favorite scents. Abby closed her eyes, tipped her face up, and breathed it all in.

  She was happy.

  The last two weeks had rushed by in a blur. Between the busy days at school, soccer three times a week, being on the planning committee for the Edgewater Fall Festival, then seeing Pierce almost every night, time had flown by at lightning speed. Her slowly blooming relationship with Pierce had her smiling almost constantly. The heady sweetness that accompanied the first stages of a romance? She’d forgotten how delicious it felt, how all-consuming. How . . . bright inside, almost giddy it made her feel. Filled with light, that’s how she felt.

  Fiona had been incessant with her comments and her questions . . . but Abby was glad to have her for in-house girl talk. Even her parents had commented on the upbeat change in her. Her mom was happy for her, but her dad more warily so. He didn’t trust Pierce yet. Then again, he rarely trusted any man who went near either of his daughters. At least Dad was nice to him, and that’s all she asked.

  The truth was, Pierce treated her very well. Certainly much better than she’d have thought a self-acknowledged former womanizer was capable of. She hadn’t known what to expect when they started dating seriously, knowing he’d never been in a real relationship before. And she caught herself still being cautious with him sometimes, she knew that. But things were going well between them, and she was happier than she’d been in a long time.

  The more she got to know him, the more she saw of what Tess had called his “heart of gold”. Abby saw it in the ways he kissed her hand at random times, when he interacted with the boys on the soccer team, the way he held her close in bed . . .

  She was falling for him, hard. To deny it was pointless. She just didn’t have to let him know it yet. He was attentive, fun, and gave her mind-blowing sex with the kind of passion and vigor she’d only read about in her romance novels.

  God, the sex . . . she smiled and shivered just thinking about it. About him, about his incredible body, his mouth and his hands and his eyes, the way he touched and moved and devoured and licked and whispered dirty, delicious things in her ear right when she was about to come that made her just explode into a moaning, orgasmic mess.

  He was so damn hot. Lucky her.

  She giggled to herself and went back into the house, feeling blissful and free.

  “Hi, Auntie Abs!” Dylan was sitting on the couch with Pierce.

  “Hey, Dyllie.” She took off her coat and hung it in the small front hall closet.

  “What’s all that stuff you got?” her nephew asked, bouncing a little in his seat.

  “Stuff for the Fall Festival on Halloween,” she answered, “and some of it’s stuff for the Halloween craft I’ll do with my class.”

  “Can I use some of it?” Dylan asked.

  “No, honey, sorry.” She sat on the other side of him, sandwiching him between herself and Pierce, who looked relaxed as he stretched out his long legs. “I had a very specific list with the amounts of what I needed.”

  “You know your aunt,” Pierce said with a crooked grin. “Can’t mess up her lists, dude.”

  Abby shot him a look and he laughed. Then she said to Dylan, “I tell you what. After practice on Thursday, if you want, I’ll take you to the craft store and we can pick out a few things, just for you. And you and I can do the same craft here at home. Sound good?”

  “Yeah, thanks! That’d be awesome!” Appeased, Dylan sprang up off the couch. “I’m gonna grab my DS, I’ll be right back,” he said before shooting up the stairs.

  “He’s such a cool kid,” Pierce said, smiling. His arm reached out to her. “But you’re too far away. C’mere.”

  She moved to curl into his side. Even simply dressed in a wheat-colored Henley shirt and jeans, Pierce was so tempting, so delightful to look at. She tipped back her head in invitation and he lowered his mouth to hers. Their arms circled around each other as they traded slow, delicious kisses.

  “Come home with me,” he whispered against her lips. “Just for a few hours.”

  “I can’t,” she said, lamenting the words even as she said them. “That alarm goes off too early in the morning.”

  “An hour, then,” he said with a sensual grin as his hand crept up her side. It rested just under her breast, and his thumb extended to rub her nipple. She squirmed and her back arched against his fingers. “Give me one hour, Abby. I promise you won’t regret it. . . .” His head dipped so he could nibble on her neck.

  She sucked in a breath and moaned, “You don’t play fair.”

  “Only on the pitch, sweetheart,” he joked. His voice dropped to a whisper as he added, “Never where hot sex with my girlfriend is on the line.”

  “Eeeuw!” Dylan cried from behind them. “Aw, gross. Kissing stuff, really?”

  Pierce and Abby pulled apart, chuckling together at the eight-year-old’s words.

  “Sorry, buddy,” Pierce said to him. “Can’t help myself around your aunt, what can I say?”

  “I say blech,” Dylan pronounced, and flopped down into the armchair with his handheld electronic game. Abby snorted and shook her head.

  “Ah, you are back,” Carolyn said as she came down the stairs. “Thought I heard voices. Hi, Pierce.”

  “Hi, Mrs. McCord, nice to see you.” He rose to lightly kiss her cheek in greeting, then sat again, placing a chaste hand on Abby’s knee.

  “You can call me Carolyn, you know,” she said.

  His brows lifted and he flashed a smile. “Well, thank you. Okay, I will.”

  “I came down to make some tea,” her mother said as she moved toward the kitchen. “Either of you want any?”

  “None for me, thanks,” Pierce said.

  “Me neither,” Abby said. “But thanks, Mom.”

  “Almost bedtime, Dylan,” Carolyn said over her shoulder as she went to the kitchen.

  “Already?” Dylan groaned, his eyes never leaving the Nintendo DS in his hands.

  Abby checked her watch. “Ohh yes, it’s eight twenty.”

  “Only babies go up to bed at eight thirty,” Dylan groused. “Nicky and Marcos stay up until nine thirty.”

  “That’s too late a bedtime for an eight-year-old,” Abby said. “And it doesn’t matter what time they go to bed; you’re the one I care about.”

  Dylan puffed out a frustrated hiss of air and kept playing his game.

  Pie
rce leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I wasn’t done when we were interrupted before. Come home with me for a little while.”

  “Jeez, it’s only been since Sunday,” she teased. “Horny thing, aren’t ya?”

  “Yes. Won’t even try to deny it. You don’t know what you do to me.” He looked into her eyes, his blazing blues sparkling. “I will beg if you want me to.”

  “Now that I’d like to see,” she murmured back with a wicked grin.

  The front door opened and closed, and Fiona entered the living room. “Hi, everyone! Hey, Dyllie, you’re still up, great!” She went to her son and enfolded him in a big hug. Turning to Abby, she asked, “Where’s Mom and Dad?”

  “Grandma’s in the kitchen and Grandpa’s upstairs,” Dylan said before Abby could answer. “Auntie Abs said I have to go up to bed in ten minutes, but now I wanna be with you, Mom.”

  “Aww, sweetie.” Fiona ran a hand over her son’s golden hair. “You know your bedtime’s eight thirty. But I tell you what. You go up and get ready for bed now, and I’ll read you a story and stay with you ’til you fall asleep. Okay?”

  “Okay . . .” Dylan continued to play his video game.

  “Turn the game off, Dyl,” Fiona said. “Now. Come on, say good nights.”

  Sighing, Dylan did as he was told. He gave Abby a hug and high-fived Pierce good night before bolting up the stairs.

  Before Abby or Pierce could say a word, Fiona sat in the chair her son had vacated and fixed her sister with a worried look. “I need a huge favor.”

  “Uh-oh,” Abby said.

  “You’re gonna hate me,” Fiona warned.

  “This is sounding better and better,” Abby quipped, leaning into Pierce’s side. His arm automatically curled around her shoulders to draw her in closer.

  “Sooooo you know how I signed up to man the basketball shot booth with you at the Fall Festival?” Fiona began, grasping a lock of her long hair and twisting it around her finger as she chewed on her bottom lip. “Well . . . I can’t do it.”

  Abby’s jaw dropped. “What? Fi, the festival’s in five days.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry!” Fiona pleaded. “But one of the day shift nurses, Lorraine, got in a car accident. She’s going to be okay, but she’s a mess. Broken leg, collapsed lung, severe concussion—”

  “I’m sorry to hear it, and I’m glad she’ll be fine, but get to the point, please,” Abby said.

  “I offered to take as many of her shifts as I can until she can come back to work,” Fiona went on. “Abby, that extra money could pay for all of Dylan’s Christmas presents and then some. I jumped on it, knowing Dyllie was in good hands between you, Mom, and Dad. . . .” She let go of her now-curled-up lock of hair and reached for a new one to twist. “Lorraine works Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday mornings, and Saturday mornings and afternoons. I start the extra shifts tomorrow.” Her mouth twisted a little as she added, “I’ll be a walking zombie from working so much, and I’ll miss Dylan’s last two soccer games, and God knows what else over the next few months. But Abby, come on.”

  Abby sighed and nodded as she conceded, “Of course, Fi. I understand. I feel bad for Dylan, that he won’t see you very much . . .”

  “It’s only until Lorraine comes back to work. Could be a few weeks, could be two months, I don’t know. But I volunteered. I’m so sorry to leave you high and dry at the last minute with the fair,” Fiona said, her eyes wide with remorse.

  “No, it’s okay, I have five days to find someone,” Abby said. “You’ll make a ton of extra money. You’re doing a good thing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ll do it,” Pierce said amiably. He shrugged and grinned at Abby. “What do you need me to do?”

  Fiona and Abby both gawked at him. “Seriously?” Abby asked.

  “Yeah, why not? What time does it start?”

  “I made sure we have the earliest game on Saturday so that I could be at the festival at eleven,” Abby said, twisting in her seat to face him. “I’m going to be in the basketball booth from noon to three, then Fiona was supposed to stay there herself and I signed up for the pumpkin painting booth from three to six.”

  “What do you do in the basketball booth?” Pierce asked.

  “It’s one of those things where you shoot into the hoops like ten feet away and if you get it in, you win a prize,” Fiona said.

  “Sounds easy enough,” Pierce said. He grinned at Abby. “Sign me up, Coach.”

  “But you’ll be there by yourself for three hours after I leave,” Abby said. “You’re okay with that?”

  “No problem,” he said. “On one condition.” A mischievous glint entered his eyes. “After the festival, you come home with me and stay the night.”

  “Slave driver.” Abby grasped his face with both hands and kissed him hard. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, smiling.

  “I owe you one, Pierce,” Fiona said. “Thanks so much.”

  “My pleasure. It’ll be fun.”

  “It’ll also,” Fiona said slowly, looking from one to the other, “be basically announcing to the whole town that you’re a couple. I know you’ve been kind of keeping it on the down low because of the kids on the team. You gonna be okay with all of Edgewater knowing you’re together?”

  Abby froze. Fiona didn’t realize that not wanting to set the soccer moms’ tongues wagging wasn’t the only reason they’d kept it quiet. Pierce valued his privacy, guarded his personal life almost zealously, as a direct result of being intruded upon—rudely and often—by the press. He’d likely rescind his offer now, and she understood.

  But before she could say a word, Pierce said with a nonchalant shrug, “I’m fine with that. Let the world know Abby’s mine now. They’ll all just be jealous.” He winked at her and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose.

  Abby gaped at him, flabbergasted. He never stopped surprising her, did he? And she still hadn’t stopped underestimating him. She really had to knock that off.

  “What you asked me before?” she said quietly, stroking her fingertips along his scruffy jaw. “You don’t have to beg. I so have one hour. With your name on it.”

  “Ahhhh.” His grin widened into a sexy smile of anticipation. “Bonus.”

  * * *

  It was a perfect afternoon for the annual Edgewater Fall Festival, with sunny blue skies and temps in the high sixties. Main Street had been cordoned off for six blocks; instead of two-way traffic, there were food stands, craft stands, and game booths for charity. Crowded with people, the town’s favorite event was a success once again. Abby felt good about her small part in it.

  The Jaguars had lost the game, but Abby hadn’t had time to dwell on it. As soon as they could, she and Pierce had hopped in his Range Rover and headed into town. She had to check in with the committee, then help set up the basketball hoop stand. With Pierce’s help, they were done in a much shorter time than she’d figured it would take. He was beyond helpful, not only setting up their stand, but offering assistance to the women at the next stand as well. They’d gotten the table and chairs out just fine, but were having a problem setting up the tarp overhead the booth.

  Abby went about her business, but stole glances at him as he worked. Sunglasses still on, he’d pulled off his blue hoodie, the tight gray T-shirt beneath revealing his lean torso and muscled, tattooed arms in mouth-watering fashion. And she loved how his ass looked in his jeans. But what she loved most of all was the snippet of conversation she overheard: his telling the two pretty twentysomethings that Abby was his girlfriend, and he knew this event was important to her, so of course he’d volunteered.

  His. She was his. He was proud of that. It made her feel all glowy inside.

  She and Ewan had gone to out-of-the-way places when in Jersey, and she’d thought it was because he didn’t want to run into anyone he knew who might go back and tell his kids he was dating so soon after his divorce. The divorce that had never happened, of course, but she hadn’t known that. Even
when he’d come to Long Island, they’d spent most of their time in her apartment. She’d always had that nagging, icky feeling that he was . . . hiding her. Hiding them.

  Not Pierce. He was in a lively mood and happy to announce he was there because he was her boyfriend. Throughout the hours they spent in the booth together, they laughed and joked around and stole kisses and talked to the people who played. He got bottles of water and lunch from the booth that her favorite Greek restaurant had set up, and they ate out of Styrofoam containers on their laps while she told him stories about things she’d done at Fall Festivals in the past. Her mom and dad came by with Dylan to say hi, and so did a lot of her friends. Now she was the one who was proud, and got a kick out of surprising them at the same time by introducing her new guy. But the way some of them scoped Pierce, she had to wonder if they dropped by to say hello to her or to check him out. Pierce was not his quieter, guarded self. He was Mister Personality, charming and quick-witted and smiling at everyone who came by their booth. He was in Pro Football Star mode, and his starshine was almost blinding.

  It was the nicest day Abby had enjoyed in a long time.

  At one point, when there actually wasn’t anyone lined up to play their game, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a long, rewarding kiss.

  “Mmmm,” he said, smiling against her lips. His arms slid around her waist, holding her close. “What was that for?”

  “I just . . .” She looked up into his face. “You’re a great guy, Pierce. You really are.”

  “Wow.” His mouth curved into a grin. “Thanks.”

  “No, thank you. You’ve been wonderful today. With everything. And all with a smile on your face.”

  “Easy to smile around you.” He winked. “This is fun! I’m glad Fiona had to bail.”

  “It’s very different from your life in London, huh?” she remarked.

  He snorted, his hands playing along the small of her back as he held her. “That’s true. And I’m glad.”

  Something occurred to her. “You don’t ever miss it? The fast pace, the competition of the game, the parties and the glamour that go along with it?”