“It was an accident,” she said.
“That’s what they all say.”
His arms loosened fractionally, allowing her lungs to expand. Her hands wrapped around his arms, hanging on. She felt his breath at her temples. It had been so long since he’d had his arms around her. Too long. It felt better than she wanted to admit.
She turned her face toward him, and his lips grazed her forehead. Her heart went to war with her ribs, her breaths becoming shallow. She had only to tilt her head up . . .
He’d grown still behind her except for the smooth flutterings of his strong thighs. His grasp tightened, his fingers clutching her sides.
She could so easily sink her weight into his and give in to the moment. He pulled her like the moon pulled the sea at high tide, he always had. But she remembered the pain too. Remembered the months of arguing, the heartbreak, the sleepless nights.
She eased away from him as she turned, pushing off him. His arms loosened, his fingers brushing her sides as he let her go.
As easily as he had last time.
Chapter Thirteen
THE RECEPTION ROOM OF THE HOTEL TOURMALINE sparkled with white lights and buzzed with conversation. Brick walls and wood floors lent the room a rustic air while the white balloons and dim lighting added a festive and elegant touch. Despite the approaching storm, at least a hundred people had turned out for the party.
Abby was sure the constant stream of seventies music and the disco ball spinning above the dance floor took her parents right back to their dating days. Even now they were swaying to a Kenny Rogers tune, their foreheads pressed together.
A short distance away Beau danced with his new girlfriend, Paige, but seemed distracted. Abby located her other two cousins near the French doors, talking with Claire Dellamare and Luke Elwell, a friend of Beau’s. She and Ryan had spent almost an hour chatting with all of them, and Abby had taken a turn around the dance floor with each of her cousins. Zac had only spared her one dance. He was obviously head over heels for his fiancée Lucy.
The table in the corner burst with gifts her parents probably wouldn’t open until sometime tomorrow. She hoped her mom liked the gift certificate to the Timber Lake Lodge in Smitten, Vermont. She’d been wanting to go, but her dad always had a reason they couldn’t.
Abby settled back on the barstool, her eyes catching on Ryan across the room where he waited in the queue for drinks. He looked handsome tonight. He’d lost the black jacket an hour ago, and now his shirtsleeves were rolled up on his forearms. They’d spent the night making the rounds, Abby introducing him as her husband to all her old acquaintances. She felt like such a liar.
“Hello, Abby.”
The voice, too familiar, too close, startled her. She eased away from the smell of alcohol rolling from Kyle’s mouth. Where had he come from? And why was he here? He was no friend of her parents, at least he hadn’t been.
He straddled the stool next to hers, baring his teeth in a smile she’d once found appealing, his beady brown eyes trained on her.
“Aren’t you gonna say hi?”
She looked away, her heart palpitating. “What are you doing here, Kyle?”
He smirked, his brow twitching up into his hairline. “Why, Abby, you act like you’re not happy to see me.”
“That’s because I’m not.”
Kyle had been so charming when they’d first started dating. She’d soon fancied herself in love, but he’d become more controlling as their relationship progressed. The first time she’d tried to break up, he’d gotten physical. After that she’d been afraid to leave him. It had been a blessing when he’d left for college her junior year and found someone else to control.
“You’re still as beautiful as ever.” His shoulder brushed hers.
She eased away. “Find someone else to hit on, Kyle.”
“Abby Gifford, your mama would be ashamed of your bad manners.”
“It’s McKinley now.”
His smile widened. “Ah-yuh, that’s right. I saw you with your old man earlier. You don’t seem all that happy, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
First her dad, now Kyle. Was she giving off signals or what?
He took a sip from his tumbler. “How long you gonna be in town?”
“I’m leaving in the morning.”
“With a storm on the way?”
She shrugged.
He sidled closer, the sleeves of his dress shirt brushing her bare skin. “Let’s meet up somewhere later. Talk.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“It used to be good. We were good together, don’t you remember?”
“Go away, Kyle.”
He laughed, not a pleasant sound. “You’re harder, Abby. Feisty. Not the docile little creature you used to be.” He leaned close and whispered. “I kind of like it.” His breath stirred the hairs at her ear.
She shuddered, keeping her eyes on the lead singer. Maybe if she ignored him he’d go away.
“Dance with me.”
“No, thank you.”
His eyes dropped to take in the exposed skin of her neckline as he drew a finger down her bare arm.
She jerked away.
“It’s just a dance. For old times’ sake.”
Enough. She couldn’t take any more. “Get lost, Kyle.” She got up to walk away, but he grabbed her elbow, turning her, his charming mask gone.
“When did you become such a coldhearted little—”
“Hey. Get your hands off my wife.”
Abby’s eyes swung to Ryan’s. He looked formidable, his jaw clenched, his eyes drilling into Kyle’s. The two men were the same height, though Ryan’s shoulders were broader. Ryan was stronger, but Kyle fought dirty. Though she hoped it wouldn’t come down to a fight.
Kyle’s grip tightened, and Abby winced, pulling away.
Ryan stepped forward. “I’m not telling you again.”
Kyle let her go. He held his palms up, that arrogant, amused look she hated tumbling over his features.
“Just asking the lady for a dance, chummy.”
“She’s not interested.” He leaned into Kyle’s space, eye to eye. “And if you ever lay a hand on her again, you’ll find yourself flat on the floor.”
Kyle’s lips curled. “Easy there, Marmaduke.” His eyes found Abby. “Someone’s got a jealous streak, eh, Abby?” He backed away, fading into the crowd.
Abby let out a breath, brushing her elbow as if she could remove the feel of him from her skin.
“You all right?”
“Yeah.”
Ryan frowned after him. “Do you know him?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Ryan had known her ex-boyfriend hadn’t treated her right, but she’d never admitted to Kyle’s violent streak.
“That was Kyle.”
He frowned at her. “Kyle? Your old boyfriend? Why were you talking to him?”
Abby stiffened. “So this is my fault?”
Ryan ran a hand over his face and blew out a breath. “No. No, I’m sorry. I’m just—I saw him from across the room, manhandling you. It ticked me off. Did he hurt you?” He took her arm, his thumb brushing over her elbow.
The look in his eyes, the gentleness of his touch, softened her. “I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m chilly,” she lied.
He studied her for a long minute, the crease between his brows deepening. His hand still cupped her elbow, and he was close enough that she could smell his cologne.
The band ended the song, and a brief round of applause sounded before a slower tune began.
“Would you like to dance?”
The memory of his arms around her in the water, just hours ago, filled her with an ache so deep she didn’t even want to say no.
“Sure.”
Smiling, he took her hand and led her into the crowd, then drew her into his arms. Abby slid her hands up and over his shoulders, keeping a safe distance between them. She stared at t
he tight knot of his tie, willing her heart to settle.
“What did he want?” Ryan asked.
She lifted a shoulder. “A dance.” She thought it best to leave out the part about meeting up later. “I told him to get lost.”
His lips turned up. “That’s my girl.”
She should refute the claim, but the words made her feel warm inside, even if they weren’t true.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
Her eyes glanced off his. “Thank you. You look nice too.” Why was it Kyle’s compliment made her skin crawl, and Ryan’s warmed her down to her toes?
“You’ve always looked good in that shade of green.”
“It’s the red hair.”
“It’s everything about you.”
“Ryan—”
“Shhh.” He pulled her closer, his lips settling at her temple. “Just dance with me, Abby.”
She shouldn’t. She should end this dance or, at the very least, put some distance between them. But people were watching, and they were supposed to be married. It was a night of celebration, and this was just a dance. It didn’t mean anything, not really.
The bittersweet strains of “I’ll Never Love This Way Again” floated around them. The truth of the words soaked into her heart, making her melancholy. Ryan’s thumbs moved at her waist, the touch going right through the thin material of her dress.
It was true, she realized. A woman only had one Ryan in her life, and they’d blown it. Some things couldn’t be undone.
She laid her cheek on his shoulder, her nose inches from his pulse. She closed her eyes and drew in a breath of him. They moved effortlessly together, they always had. Physically they’d always been compatible. She remembered his words out on the point. He was right—he’d never had to coerce her into anything. She’d never stopped thrilling to his touch.
Even now, three years and too much pain later, he could still make her blood pump, still make her ache for him. Why did it have to be him?
She wasn’t going to think about it now. She was just going to enjoy the moment and sort it all out later. As if sensing her decision, Ryan tightened his arms until their bodies came together. His hands flattened against her back. His thighs brushed against hers as they moved in a slow circle.
She wished she could stay this way the rest of her life. It had been good. So good. Until it had all turned so terribly bad.
Stop thinking, Abby.
She closed her eyes and pushed the thoughts from her head until there was only the press of his chest against hers, the flutter of his breath at her temple.
The music swelled as the song neared an end. She slid one hand down his chest and clutched the material of his shirt, as if she could hang on to him just a few extra moments.
But the bittersweet ending of the song rolled out. The lead singer announced the last song of the night before the band struck up a fast tune. Ryan’s arms loosened, and Abby smoothed her hand over the wrinkles she’d made in his shirt.
“I should probably go see what Mom needs help with.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Chapter Fourteen
ABBY WAS DRENCHED BY THE TIME THEY’D FINISHED unloading the decorations from the car. It was well past midnight. The storm had hit full force, the wind battering the house, shaking the panes of glass.
Finally dressed in something dry and warm, she slipped beneath the covers. Boo curled into the back of her legs and laid her head on Abby’s knee. On the floor beside her Ryan shifted.
When she switched off the lamp, darkness flooded the room. She settled in, her mind reviewing the evening. Mom and Dad had seemed happy tonight. The empty nest had been good for them. There had been a lot of stress and arguments when she’d lived at home. Sometimes Abby had thought it would’ve been better if she’d never been born. She was sure her dad felt that way.
She pushed the notion away, letting thoughts of Ryan replace it. He’d been quiet as they’d removed the decorations from the reception hall, casting her long, meaningful looks when he’d thought she wasn’t looking.
She’d been in a reflective mood after their dance. After being back in his arms for three minutes. It terrified her that she’d missed him so much. That he still had that kind of power over her. Would she ever get over him?
She turned to her back, unable to find a comfortable position, forcing Boo to resituate.
She’d loved Ryan so much. More than she’d ever thought possible. It had hurt so badly when everything had crumbled around them. She’d spent months after the divorce turning it every which way, trying to figure out what had happened. Even now she was at a loss. It seemed one day they’d been madly in love, with a baby on the way, and the next they were fighting constantly.
The wind kicked up, and a branch or something hit the side of the house. Rain pattered against the window. It was a moonless night, the heavy bank of clouds obscuring even the brightest of stars. She stared up at the ceiling, seeing nothing but pitch black.
The rain always reminded her of Ryan’s first kiss. Of the park and his hand tugging her along, and laughter. Always his laughter. She was reminded too of that feeling he set off inside her. The feeling of falling and hoping there’d be something soft to catch her. She’d thought that something would be Ryan.
She hadn’t known marriage would be a series of those feelings. She’d been so naïve. Scared, yes, but hopeful. So hopeful. She’d loved him, and he’d said he loved her. He’d seemed happy about the wedding, about the baby. For a while she’d thought all her fears were for nothing.
She turned onto her side, sending a mental apology to Boo for making her move again. The dog elected to curl up in the empty spot beside her.
What had gone wrong? It was like an impossible puzzle. She had all the pieces, even the picture, but no matter which way she turned the pieces, they didn’t fit. And suddenly, three years later, she desperately needed them to fit.
“Ryan?” she whispered through the dark.
“Nope,” he said. “Not doing it. Not coming up there, no matter how much you beg me.”
She gave a mirthless laugh and wondered if she should even ask. She was the one who’d made the rule about bringing up the past. Would she be opening a can of worms, or simply finding closure?
“What is it, Abby?” His voice was a low hum.
It was the tenderness that beckoned her. She stared into the black abyss where he lay. Somehow the darkness gave her courage.
“What happened between us?”
A long pause followed. Abby’s heart thudded so hard it set off little quakes on the mattress.
The covers rustled on the floor, and his sigh followed. “I wish I knew. I’ve been over it a thousand times.”
“Me too.”
“I was gone too much. I know I put my team first. I guess you were lonelier than I realized, and I was too stupid to notice.”
“It was more than that.”
“What was it then?”
She shook her head in the darkness. “I don’t know. Things were so good at first. You seemed happy, like you wanted to be with me.”
“I was. I did. Those were the happiest days of my life.”
Her heart gave a little punch. His admission made her ache. They were the happiest days of her life too.
“And then I lost the baby.” Her words were barely audible. She’d finally put it out there. The thing they never spoke of. It hurt too much.
How could God take the life of an innocent child? She’d never been able to reconcile that. And just when things were finally going right for her.
“You were so sad after that. I didn’t know what to do.”
He’d done just fine for a while. Holding her, touching her, kissing her. But life moved on, and he had a job and meetings, and she didn’t seem to be enough anymore.
“I couldn’t seem to do anything right,” he said. “We argued all the time. You went from sad to angry, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”
“I was
sad about the baby.” And angry. So angry. Why did God take their child? It wasn’t fair.
“I know,” he said softly. “I was too.”
“But then you were gone all the time, and Cassidy was always there, and it seemed like—”
“There was never anything between Cassidy and me.”
She swallowed hard. It brought up such painful memories. She’d hated the feeling inside, knowing her husband’s ex-girlfriend was at that school where he spent so much time. Wondering if she was going to lose him. If she’d already lost him.
“I swear to you, Abby. I never had any feelings for her after high school. She was nothing more than a friend.”
She took in his earnest tone and let it sink in deep. He had no reason to lie now. Nothing at stake. She’d never really had any proof, just a feeling. And feelings, she’d learned, could be misleading. Many of her clients suspected their spouse of cheating only to find they were totally off base. Coming up empty was a sort of happily-ever-after for her clients—in a bittersweet kind of way. Knowing all she knew now, Abby realized her fear of losing Ryan had made her jump to conclusions.
“You believe me, don’t you?”
She clutched the quilt in her hand and squeezed until her fingers ached. “Yeah. I do.”
They wouldn’t have been able to have this conversation three years ago. She’d have refused to believe him, started yelling, and Ryan would’ve shut down, refusing to argue.
She went back to the days after her miscarriage. To when things had started unraveling. When, as Ryan had said, she’d gone from sad to angry. It was true. She didn’t understand why, even to this day.
That wasn’t quite true. She knew that beneath the anger lay a fear so paralyzing she couldn’t acknowledge it. A suspicion that had festered inside in those days after the miscarriage, poisoning their every conversation. She’d never had the guts to bring it to the surface and look at it. She sure hadn’t had the guts to ask Ryan.
But now, in the darkness, when it no longer mattered, she found the courage to ask.
“Ryan . . . did you . . . did you resent me after I lost the baby?”
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