Abby's Christmas

by Lynnette Kent

  Second-to-last button. “Please don’t love you? Too late. I’ve loved you for most of my life. Please don’t want you? How can I stop? Even when I thought you would never come back, when I thought you might be dead, I wanted you. Now that you’re here—all I can think about is being with you. Like this.”

  Noah watched in disbelief as Abby undid the last button on her sweater. The two halves immediately drew apart, even before she slipped the sweater backward, off her shoulders, over her elbows, her wrists.

  “Dear God,” he whispered, and it was a prayer. Her creamy white skin, smooth and slightly flushed, was partly cloaked by those rich, reddish curls. A lacy pink bra confined the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen. He looked into Abby’s face. “You’re incredible.”

  “I’m yours. Please, Noah.” She stared down at his hand. A single warm teardrop fell on his knuckle. “Don’t make me beg.”

  “I’m the one who should beg,” he muttered. Then he pulled her into his arms.

  In seconds, it seemed, they lay against each other skin to skin, his hands roaming freely across the sweet roundness of her hips, the bounty of her breasts. Abby’s palm dragged over his back, his bony shoulders, the sharp arches of his ribs.

  “You need to gain some weight,” she whispered. “I should feed you more.”

  At that moment, Noah took the peak of her breast into his mouth.

  Words stopped. Thought ended. They entered a refuge in which they touched each other in every possible way, simply seeking more.

  At the last possible moment, Noah reared back on his knees. “Wait, wait.” He held her wandering hands tight in his own. “I don’t have anything for—for… We can’t—”

  Her smile made him think of Eve in the Garden. “I do.” She felt around on the floor beside the sofa for her skirt and drew a box of condoms from the pocket. “I’m desperate, but I’m not dumb.”

  He didn’t laugh. “I’m clean, Abby. They left me alone in prison. I got tested every three months. And I’ve always been careful.”

  “Shh.” She pressed her fingers against his lips. “I trust you.”

  Noah squeezed his eyes shut. Nobody had ever said that before. He wanted to cry.

  Instead, he slipped on protection and slipped into Abby’s welcoming embrace. There was a moment of resistance, a bolt of surprise.

  Then the tide swept over them, in roaring waves of sensation that tumbled their bodies like shells on the beach. Noah stiffened, felt Abby shudder beneath him. With a sigh, he finally put his head down on her shoulder and allowed himself to drown.

  “YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME, you know.”

  Lying tucked between Noah’s body and the back of the couch, with his arms around her and his face in her hair, Abby drew a breath of pure happiness. “Told you what?”

  “That this was your first time.”

  She frowned. “I didn’t want to be treated like a virgin.”

  “You deserved more consideration than you got.”

  “Do you hear me complaining?”

  Noah’s answer was a deep sigh.

  Abby pulled away enough to see his face. “Are you sorry?”

  He tightened his hold on her but didn’t open his eyes. “I couldn’t be sorry if I tried. I just don’t see…”

  She waited, but he didn’t continue. “Where we’re going?” she finished for him.

  “Yeah.”

  “I can tell you that. In a few minutes, we’ll get up and eat cold eggs and bacon and make new toast, drink warm orange juice.”

  Noah grinned. “Now, there’s a tempting prospect.”

  “And then we’re going to climb into your bed together and discover all the ways to enjoy a rainy Sunday morning.”

  “I have a suggestion.” He rolled to his feet, giving her a moment to appreciate the lean, balanced beauty of his body before he bent and picked her up off the couch.

  “What are you doing?” She laughed and blushed at the same time. “Noah, I’m too heavy to carry. Put me down.”

  Her protests were ignored as he went down the short hallway to the bedroom. As she clung with her arms around his shoulders, Noah pulled the covers back with one hand. Then he lowered her to the cool sheet. In another second, he was beside her.

  “I suggest we skip the cold eggs and bacon part,” he said softly, as he skimmed his mouth over her cheek, her eyelids, her mouth. “And go straight to the rainy Sunday morning in bed.”

  Abby smiled and sighed. “I always knew you were a very smart man.”

  THEY WOKE AGAIN ABOUT two o’clock, cooked new eggs and toast, warmed the bacon and grits, and poured the orange juice over ice while they talked about nothing that really mattered. Noah tried to focus, to concentrate hard so that he could keep the memories of Abby and this morning strong.

  Because, of course, it couldn’t last. Rainy Sunday mornings gave way to partly cloudy afternoons. Dixon and Kate came out to the garage about four o’clock, arriving at exactly the same time Noah and Abby wandered downstairs to start painting.

  The four of them stared at one another for a few seconds, trying to think of what to say. Noah knew Abby was blushing, knew she looked like a woman who had spent the morning with her lover.

  “We thought we’d see how far you’d gone,” Kate said. Dixon choked and she stared at him, eyes wide. “I mean—”

  “I came to make Noah breakfast,” Abby explained, “and time just slipped away.”

  “It happens,” Dixon said, controlling his grin. “We also wanted to know how you were after Friday night.”

  “A cut on my foot is the worst of the damage.”

  Kate nodded. “I hate that you had to go through such an ordeal. And we’re so glad you were there, Noah. We can’t thank you enough for taking care of Abby.”

  Another awkward silence fell. Dixon put his arm around his wife. “Kate, honey, I think we ought to go back to the house before you step in it with both feet instead of just one.”

  Red-faced, Kate agreed and said goodbye. When they were alone again, Abby laughed. “We’ll only have to go through that about, oh, a hundred more times before everybody in town has figured it out.”

  Noah flipped the bristles of a paintbrush against his hand. “Figured what out?”

  “Us.”

  “I think it would be better if there wasn’t any ‘us.’”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t think anybody else should know about this. And I’ll ask Dixon and Kate to keep it quiet.”

  “You’re ashamed to be with me?”

  “I’m ashamed for you to be with me.” Before she could ask the question, he answered. “I’m a felon. An ex-con. A killer. And that’s only the most recent of my crimes. I didn’t live a clean, tidy life before I killed a man. I made trouble here, and I didn’t stop just because I left. Women, alcohol, gambling—”

  “Drugs?”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “Illegal drugs are about the only sin I haven’t committed. Oh, and adultery. I never slept with another man’s wife.”

  She started toward him, but he held up a hand. “I can’t—wouldn’t—give up what we shared today. But at the very least, we’ve got to go slow. Until I’ve made some kind of progress, I don’t want you too involved with me. It just wouldn’t be smart.”

  She was staring at her hands, twisted together at her waist. “Does that mean…you don’t want to see me again?” Tears thickened her voice.

  And he almost broke down, himself. “Of course I do. But…not like this. Not so private, so…dangerous.”

  Abby lifted her chin. “You know, yesterday, I would have assumed that you just didn’t want me anymore, that I wasn’t good enough to satisfy you.”

  “That’s bull—”

  “Exactly. Because I know what happened between us this morning. I know how strong it is, how right, how…how eternal. But you, apparently, missed the point. So I’ll just wait around until you get the message. If hell freezes over first, I guess that’ll just be too b
ad for both of us.” She turned and marched to the garage door. “And you can finish the damn panel all by yourself—since alone is what you think you do best.”

  She stomped up the steps to the apartment and stomped down again. The Volvo engine coughed, sputtered and caught. Noah reflected that he really ought to give that car a tune-up. Engines, he understood.

  Relationships?

  Forget it.

  BY THE TIME CHARLIE GOT home Sunday night, Abby was pretty much back to normal. She’d showered, washing away the scent of Noah she imagined clung to her skin, and changed into regular clothes, putting her hair in its usual ponytail. She ate too much for dinner from a noodle casserole she’d frozen back in September, and made matters worse with ice cream for dessert. Who said she couldn’t solve her problems with food?

  Charlie was full of jokes and stories from his buddies, but the drive had tired him out, so he went to bed soon enough. Abby stared at the TV for an hour or so, barely comprehending the program, and finally went to her own room. She’d been up early this morning. Surely she could fall asleep fast. If not, those painkillers the doctor had given her might help.

  On the point of turning out the light, though, she picked up the phone instead, and dialed Marian Blake’s number.

  “You’re calling awful late.”

  “Yes, ma’am, but I thought I’d let you know about Noah.”

  “He was here yesterday. Spent hours working on the house. Even put up a new fence.”

  “I’m happy he had a chance to do that. I know he wants to make things easier for you.”

  “He’d have done better to just stay away.”

  “I think he needed to come home.”

  Marian didn’t say anything for a long time. “So what did you want to tell me?”

  “I wasn’t sure if you had a chance to talk with Noah. But he’s got a good job with Rob Warren and he’s working terribly hard to put his life together. I think if people in this town will just give him a chance, he’ll succeed.”

  “I hear he got you out of trouble Friday night.”

  “Yes, he did. I might have died if Noah hadn’t shown up when he did.”

  The idea of losing Abby was not something Marian wanted to consider. If she’d had a daughter, she would have wanted someone like this girl, with spirit and strength. She’d been pregnant with a little girl once, but Jonah knocked her down one too many times.

  “So I guess he’s sticking around for a while.”

  “I hope so.” Behind the girl’s words was a feeling Marian recognized. Did Jonah’s son deserve that kind of love? Jonah certainly had not.

  “You be careful, missy. He’ll break your heart—and that’ll be all, if you’re lucky. His dad was a bully and a drunk.” She hung up before Abby could protest.

  Marian hated to see Abby wreck herself on Noah. He’d left just like his dad, hadn’t he? He’d been a gentle boy but grown up violent, like Jonah. Maybe Abby would be smarter than Marian, though. Maybe she’d avoid getting knocked up, so she wouldn’t have to tie herself to a man she already feared.

  And maybe Santa Claus would show up on Christmas Eve.

  IF GREAT SEX GUARANTEED a good night’s sleep, Sunday night proved the rule as far as Noah was concerned. But he was up and dressed by 6:00 a.m. on Monday morning. The diner would be open as usual, and he needed as few witnesses as possible for what he was about to do.

  The parking lot was empty and the inside lights on when he arrived in the dark before dawn. He pushed the door gently, hoping to keep the bell quiet, but he couldn’t repress a small jingle. Well, that would bring somebody to see him, anyway.

  Charlie came out of the kitchen but stopped behind the counter when he saw Noah. “What do you want?”

  “Is Abby here?”

  “No. She’s staying home this morning. So move on.”

  “I will.” Noah walked up to the counter. “But I wanted to give you something first.” He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket and put a roll of bills on the counter beside the cash register. “One hundred dollars,” he said. “I owe you.”

  Charlie came close enough to pick up the bills. “I don’t get it.”

  “You know I stole it, fifteen years ago.” The older man nodded. “So, I’m giving it back.”

  “Why?”

  “Why’d I steal it?” Charlie nodded. “I wanted new mirrors for my bike. Extended arms, chrome finish, really cool. I’d seen them on another guy’s bike and I was jealous. You left me alone with the cash that morning. The temptation was more than I could resist.”

  “So why pay it back now?”

  “I want to be square. I want to pay my debts. Then, when I walk away, I’ll be free. Really and truly free.”

  Charlie put the cash in the register. “Sit down. I’ll pour you a cup of coffee. On the house.”

  He poured himself one as well, and they sipped in silence for a minute or two.

  Finally, Charlie set his mug down. “I knew your dad.”

  Noah shrugged. “My condolences. Or apologies, whichever works.”

  “You look like him.”

  “Which explains a lot about my mother.”

  Charlie raised a critical eyebrow. “As a matter of fact, it does.”

  Noah felt his cheeks heat up.

  “You’re tall like him, but not as beefy. He played football, you know.”

  “So I heard.” And he wasn’t sure he needed to know anything else. “Thanks for the—”

  “You’re not going anywhere.” Charlie refilled Noah’s mug. “Jonah Blake was a big deal, his senior year. I was a few years ahead of him, but I remember. Scouts from colleges all over the country came to watch him play, and even from the pros. The only way he’d be able to go to school was on a football scholarship, and he had several lined up. All he had to do was choose.”

  “But there was a baby.”

  “Yeah. Your mother refused to get an abortion, as much as Jonah pressured her. So they got married—that’s the way things were done back then. The scholarships dried up. The scouts disappeared. No college for Jonah—just a dead-end job at the tool plant. He didn’t handle the disappointment very well.”

  “No, he didn’t.” The little kid who only wanted to follow his dad around had usually been kicked away like a bothersome puppy. “I was glad when he didn’t come home again.”

  “The whole town was. He’d managed to get on just about everybody’s bad side.”

  Noah looked up from his coffee and tried out a grin. “Like father, like son.”

  “Not exactly.” He left to seat a couple of customers, brought them coffee and water, then took their orders to Billie in the kitchen. “You came back, first of all. And I’m beginning to believe your intentions are good.”

  Would he feel that way if he knew Noah had spent yesterday in bed with his daughter? “Thanks.”

  “You’re starting over, something your dad never even tried. Hard work was a foreign idea for Jonah—he wanted to play ball, make big money and live high on the hog.”

  After refilling his own coffee cup, Charlie settled behind the counter again. “The main thing is, you’re taking responsibility for your life. You paid your debt for what happened in Atlanta. You’re accepting the penalties and working through them. That’s a man’s job, to be the master of his own life, whatever he does with it. Jonah never understood, not while he was here, anyway.” Charlie extended his right hand. “I’m glad to see his son’s got guts.”

  Noah couldn’t refuse to shake that hand. He looked Abby’s dad straight in the eye with as much confidence as he could muster. And he left the diner as soon as Charlie turned his back.

  At least he’d made amends to the man he’d wronged. And in return Charlie had given him food for thought. His dad had pretty much been a jerk all along, even before the baby—Noah—put an end to his dreams. So maybe Jonah Blake would have been the same kind of dad, even if everything had gone his way. Maybe he would have victimized any woman he married. Maybe there wa
s nothing Noah could have done, as a child or an adult, to earn his father’s love.

  Riding toward the locksmith shop, Noah laughed aloud. He’d made plenty of his own mistakes, in this town and others. But he didn’t have to keep paying for something he hadn’t done. His dad—and, to be honest, his mother—had tried to blame him for a situation he hadn’t created and couldn’t change, no matter how hard he tried. He felt as if he’d had a fifty-pound weight taken off each shoulder, and another off his chest.

  He thought of Abby, and what he’d said to her yesterday. Could he—should he—take it back? She’d said she would wait until he understood the truth of their relationship, even if hell froze over.

  Noah really didn’t want to wait that long to make love to her again.

  For the length of a red light he considered going to her house to tell her what a jackass he’d been. But the bank clock gave him only fifteen minutes to get to work. If he went to see Abby, he might never get there at all, which would not make a good impression on his new boss. So he kept the bike headed in the direction of downtown, promising himself some time with Abby tonight.

  A police cruiser sat in the front parking lot of Warren and Sons. With the hair on the back of his neck standing straight up, Noah wheeled around to the back, parked the bike and walked into the work area, swinging his helmet from one hand.

  Mike Warren, Rob and Trent stood together at the far end of the workroom, talking with a police officer who was all too recognizable, even from the back. As Noah reached the group, though, the cop turned around.

  “It’s about time,” Wade Hayes told him. “A good employee gets to work ahead of time.”

  “I’ll remember that.” Noah looked at Rob. “What’s going on?”

  But Mike Warren answered. “Just what I said would happen. There’s been a robbery.”

  “Here? At the shop?”

  “Nope.” Wade flipped the pages of his palm-size notebook. “At 390 Hampton Court. Sound familiar?”

  Noah shook his head. “Never heard of it.”