by Finn, Emilia
“Out back? It’s safe out there, right?”
“Yup, it’s safe. Kane was by this morning, did you know that?”
“Kane?”
“Mmm.” Her paper bag rustles some more, then she makes a low growl of pleasure in the back of her throat that instantly makes me hard. “He installed cameras everywhere inside and outside of my shop. Gah, this is so good.”
“Abigail, what are you doing?”
“Eating a glazed donut for breakfast.” Giggling, she rustles the bag some more, then groans again. “Have you ever had donuts for breakfast, Spencer? Because I have, right now. It feels like a sin.”
“You need to stop making those noises, babe. You’re making me think sinful thoughts.”
“Re–really?” That brings her up short. “I’m sorry.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “It’s fine. I’m gonna call you back tonight when you’re in bed. Buy a donut on your way home and we’ll talk sins all over again. You’ll never eat a donut again without making yourself wet.”
“Spencer…” Her voice is breathy and pulses straight into my cock. “Geez…”
“Kane was by this morning?” I prompt. “Why?”
“Um…” It takes her a minute to switch gears, then she finally focuses. “Oh! He said he had to install security for my store. I told him not to, since I know it’s expensive, but he said it’s already ordered and paid for. He dragged my butt outta bed really early so I could open the store for him. He left only twenty minutes ago, and told me to tell you the password when you called.”
I love my brother so fucking much.
“What’s the password?”
She giggles. “He didn’t actually say. He said you’d be able to figure it out on the second try.”
“On the second try…” I bring my hand up and roll my bottom lip between my fingers. “Okay. I’ll work on it.”
“No clue?”
I shrug. “I dunno. Maybe. I’ll work on logging in when we hang up.”
“So you’ll be able to watch me work?”
“All day long, babe. If I was logged in right now, I’d be able to see you talking on the phone.”
Without warning, Abigail hangs up on me and slingshots me back to the room I rest in, and not the back of her shop, where she’s probably huddled against the cold and sitting on milk crates.
“Abigail?” I bring the phone away from my ear and frown.
She’s gone. She didn’t even say goodbye.
But then my screen lights up with a video call.
I hit accept and grin like a complete dick when her sweet smile fills my screen. “Jesus, Priss. You take my breath away.”
Her always-too-damn-pale cheeks fill with a rose blush. Her lips are red, but not from lipstick. Her eyes are still captivating and amazingly unique. “I wanted to see you. But don’t embarrass me. It took guts for me to call you like this.”
“I won’t tease.” I sit up taller, run a hand over my stubbled jaw and wish I’d had time to shave and clean up before she saw me. Jesus, who the fuck am I, and where is the real Spence? “You look beautiful, Abigail. I miss the shit out of your face, and it’s only been a day.”
She looks down a little and peeks at me through her lashes. “Thank you. Do you know how long you’ll be gone?” One-handed, she brings the last quarter of a glazed donut up to her mouth and takes a small bite.
“No clue. But Soph booked us into a motel for the week just now.”
“A week?” Her mood drops. “A whole week?”
“I know. It suddenly feels like a really long time, huh?”
She nods and picks at her food. “Right. It shouldn’t feel like a big deal, but…”
“But we just started,” I finish for her. “We just got to the good bits.”
“The good bits being…” She leans forward, as though to scope out her surroundings, then whispers, “Sex?”
“No, Priss.” I chuckle. “The good bits, as in admitting you’re mine and spending time in my home. The good bits, as in that time you mentioned loving me.”
When her cheeks flame, I take a moment to fall in love all over again.
I was already there, already invested, already willing to lay my life down and declare this forever. But now it doesn’t seem so scary. It doesn’t seem so hard to give into what my body and mind already want.
“Priss?”
She peeks up from beneath her lashes. “Mmm?”
“I’ll probably screw this up a million times. I’ll probably make you cry by accident. I’ll make you mad sometimes…”
Her eyes flicker between mine with worry. “Okay…?”
“But I love you.” It’s like a weight lifts from my shoulders. Like the fear of rejection is gone, despite the fact I knew she wouldn’t reject me. “You’re mine. I’ve already demanded that, and won’t accept anything less. But I’m yours too, okay? All yours.”
“What if you’re gone too long?”
I frown. “What about it?”
“You’ll want… ya know. You’ll want to be with a woman. With any woman.”
“No, baby. You’re not replaceable. You’re not something I can replicate for convenience. If I say I’m yours, I mean that. I could be gone a week, a month, a year…” Her eyes turn fearful the more I speak. “It doesn’t matter how long I’m gone, I won’t accept a cheap version when I know I have you at home.”
Her voice quivers as her eyes flicker between mine. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart. Now eat your breakfast, and stop worrying about things you don’t have to worry about.”
“Okay.” She brings her donut up. “Love you.”
Those simple words make my heart soar. “Love you, too. What are you up to today?”
“I have a new bride coming in at nine for a consult. Her wedding is a couple months away. And I have another wedding next month, so I’m working on that. I’m heading up to see Marcie after lunch, too.”
“Your friend at the hospital?”
She tosses the last of her donut into her mouth and grins. “Yup. She’s nearly eighteen, and thinks that gives her the right to check out my brother. It’s weird, so I take my whip and try to beat it out of her on a daily basis.”
I chuckle. “Which brother is she sneaking looks at? I can’t say I see the draw. Your brothers are annoying as fuck, and they look nothing like you.”
She purses her lips with disapproval. I don’t actually have a problem with them. Not truly. They’re looking out for their sister. Their previously sick sister.
“She likes Mitchell. But I figure that’s a proximity thing, mostly. He’s brought her in a few times over the last year when her folks called. He’s grown and strong, he’s handsome and holds her hand when she’s scared. I get why she’s kinda smitten.”
“Did you ever have the hots for one of your medical team?”
Her cheeks flame anew. “Uh-huh. Doctor Rhett. He was young, handsome. He had big hands, and used to pat my hand when he spoke.”
“I’m gonna kill him.”
She snickers. “Stop it. He was a ray of sunshine in an otherwise scary time and place. He was my healer, so I had this hero worship thing going on. He’s kind, Spencer. And I responded to kindness when everyone else around me was hurried or scared.”
“Don’t make me hurt him. I’ll do it, Priss. I’ll take him out.”
“You don’t have my permission to do that,” she teases. “Leave him alone, and I’ll never again mention Ashley being at your place the other night.”
Where I had a retort sitting and waiting to throw back at Abigail, I now have nothing but pursed lips and a little pride for the skittish woman who doesn’t often lay shit down that fast.
I’m not actually worried about this doctor. I’m playing with her to make her smile, so her witty comeback and flashing grin makes it worth it.
“Touché, Miss Priss. I won’t hurt your doctor… today.”
She gives a soft, breathy laugh and nibbles on her bottom lip. �
�What are you doing today?”
“We just checked in. So I’m gonna nap for a bit after we hang up, then we’re heading out tonight to meet a guy.”
“Who’s the guy?”
I shrug. “Soph’s friend. Military muscle. Sharpshooter. Goes only by Romeo.”
Her brows knit. “Like, Juliet’s Romeo?”
I grin. “I suspect it’s more of a phonetic alphabet thing. Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta.”
“So, by that logic, you would be… Sierra?”
“Right.” Uncomfortable with how I sit, I move down the bed until my feet hang off the end, and my head hits the pillow. Then I turn to my side and curl up. “I wish you were here with me, Abigail.” I angle my phone so she can see my position. “I need a little spoon.”
“I wish I was with you too.” Sitting back against a brick wall, she sighs. “I’ve barely started work yet, but it feels like it’s already been a long day. I wish you would be at home when I’m done, because spooning sounds like literally the best thing I could do right now. I got attached to you.”
“Like plankton,” I chuckle. “Stay attached, okay? I don’t want you to float away.”
“Alright.” Her voice is soft, gentle, breathy. But then her eyes snap up and focus on something behind her phone. “Okay. I’m coming in.” Her eyes come back to mine. “I have to go, okay?”
“I wish you didn’t. You could sing me to sleep.”
Her eyes soften and flicker across my face. “Maybe tonight?”
“Maybe. I don’t know what time I’ll get to bed, but I’ll text you my plans when I know them. Right now, I just know I have a meet at five.”
“I’ll set my alarm,” she promises. “I’ll be thinking of you at five.”
“Think of me all day. I’ll be thinking of you.”
“I will.” She stands and moves her phone so I catch a glimpse of milk crates. My correct assumption makes me smile. “I have to go in and sign for my order. Then I have work to do. Don’t forget to sign into my security. You can watch me whenever you get bored.”
“Bet your ass I’ll be signing in. Now we just need to install something in your bedroom.” Her cheeks burn red, but turn so much darker when I add, “But Bishop isn’t allowed to do that. No man is allowed in your room but me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m glad he was looking out and installed your system. I should have done it before I left.”
“It’s done now. I really have to go, but I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, beautiful. I… well…” My heart slams against my chest. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
As soon as she hangs up, I shoot a text to Kane.
Me: Thank you for the Gladiator at Abigail’s place. I appreciate you looking out.
Kane: Welcome. You take care of mine there, I’ll take care of yours here. It’s what family does. Bring my baby brother home, okay? Keep him safe.
Me: You have my word. What’s Abigail’s system password?
Kane: Did you guess yet?
Me: Is it ‘SpenceHasABigDick’?
I laugh, and know without a doubt that he does too.
Kane: No, motherfucker.
Kane: SpenceIsAPussy69
Still laughing, I switch screens and begin the process of logging into a new system. I type the password in and expect to be kicked out with an invalid warning, but it works. He really did set the password up like that.
Me: You’re such an asshole.
But then I switch back to Abigail’s screen and catch a glimpse of fiery red hair in the storefront camera as she instructs her assistant on where to set a massive vase full of yellow flowers. Abigail wears jeans today. A little tighter than usual, though not tight by social standards, and a cream-colored top that shows me the shape of her hips.
She’s becoming more outgoing with her outfit choices. She could wear a sack, and I wouldn’t give a shit, because I know what’s underneath. But her new confidence makes me smile. Her new comfort level makes me happy.
Whatever makes her happy is good with me.
Her skin is still as pale as usual, but it appears pastier in the security footage. She makes me constantly worry for her health, and that was before I found out she’d been sick.
Cancer! She had fucking cancer.
I should have known. I should have guessed. But it’s not something you expect for people our age. Cancer is a disease you associate with old people; grandparents, parents.
My mom.
Abigail and my mother suffered from the same illness. But more surprising is the fact that they suffered at the same time. A decade ago, they had both been diagnosed, but where my mother was nearing fifty, Abigail was only fifteen. Where Abigail lived, my mother did not.
Does God have a table set out in front of him, a deck of cards, or a set of dice? Two women, two completely different lives, but he gives them both the same disease and is forced to choose?
Let the woman live to see her son grow older and flourish, or let the child live, so she herself can grow older and flourish?
He chose for Abigail to live, so while I was busy burying my mom and pretending women were nothing more than disposable fun, Abigail was here doing her damned best to fight the war that was being waged on her small body.
She won, and I’m so fucking proud of her, in the same breath I’m ashamed for ever thinking her weak. I should have known better.
I do now. And I understand the second chance she’s been given, the chance we’ve both been given. From eternal bachelor, to eternally devoted to one, I’m staying, I’m sticking, and it’d take the damn jaws of life for her to get rid of me now.
I watch Abigail for a couple minutes as she bosses Nadia around, as a second delivery man walks through and has her sign a sheet of paper, as her brother walks through the front door and Nadia clams up like a live turkey about to be stuffed.
Mitchell Rosa struts through his sister’s shop, just as oblivious to the new security we have in place as his sister is to the raging affair he’s having right under her nose. I feel no anger at the Rosas now that I know the truth behind their protectiveness. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to be in the same room as the trio right now, watching the couple squirm because they know I know their secrets.
I want to torment them, to tease and torture. I want to blow the lid on their sexcapades just so I can bear witness to the fireworks that’ll come because of it. I don’t understand why they’re so secretive. I don’t understand why Abigail might take issue with them being together, but I sure as hell wouldn’t mind being nearby when the shit hits the fan.
A loud thump hits the wall opposite my bed, so loud and hard that the framed image hanging there shifts off balance. For just a single second, I can play it off as something else. Maybe Sophia tripped and fell. Maybe a raccoon got in and snuck a bottle of whiskey first. Maybe, just maybe, Romeo made his shot and took my friends out.
But then Sophia’s groaning begins, and my cock thickens in my jeans.
Dammit.
It turns me on, not because I want in on the action with Sophia, but because I want so much more of Abigail. I want to slam her against a wall. I want to ride her like a wild animal. I want to make her weep from pleasure, and scream from the best kind of pain.
She’s not ready yet, but she will be, because she’s strong and brave and there’s no chance in hell she won’t try for me.
My eyes go back to her on the screen to find her talking to Nadia for a moment. Put this here. Put that there. Be my minion, and I’ll pay you with blushes and squishy hugs.
I’m tempted to call her again, to suggest she find a dark room and slide her hand into her panties for me. But like she senses my stare, or maybe she senses my hunger, she turns back to the camera and looks straight into my eyes. She stares for a moment, as though wondering if I’m here, as though she’s certain she feels my presence, and hopes it’s not just a trick her mind plays on her.
But then, because she bel
ieves what she already knows to be true, she flashes a beautiful grin and gives a little finger wave.
Yeah. She loves me. And now we’re stuck in the best possible way.
* * *
I end up napping with sweet thoughts of Abigail in my mind, and the filthy sounds of Bishops fucking in the room beside mine, then at five on the dot, I step outside and make no mention of knowing exactly how many times Jay can get Sophia off in one afternoon.
We climb into the cars and, on Soph’s orders, head just fifteen minutes away from our motel, then pull into a bar that is lively with music and women in cowboy boots.
Hats abound, skirts are short, and I stand out like a sore thumb. This isn’t a military bar where I might fit in among other large dudes, but a honkytonk… and I can’t truthfully say I’ve ever worn a cowboy hat in my life.
I watch my friend’s backs the whole time we move. I sit with my back against the wall, and push Soph between me and Jay when a dark figure approaches our table. He’s a tall-ass motherfucker who almost gives me competition in height and width, and stops with his hat pulled low, making his dark eyes darker.
He’s broad and heavy, but none of it is fat. He’s dangerous as fuck. He makes the Bishops look almost like angels.
“Guys, meet my friend,” Sophia makes the introductions. “We call him Romeo, and if you wanna step up and demand to know his real name, then I won’t get in between the alpha asshole bullshit. Or you could respect his privacy, and enjoy knowing he’s one of us.”
My eyes narrow. My heart races. My hands ball, and my lips thin. But when he extends a hand across the table, I take it and shake.
“Romeo.”
His lips lift just the tiniest of fractions. “Serrano. Good to see you again.”
23
Abigail
Two Months Later
Spencer: Hey, Priss. I miss your face so fuckin’ much that I don’t even care about the no cussing rule. I wanna video chat with you tonight, okay? I wanna watch you get yourself off again. Then cuss for me, because nothing turns me on as much as that time you said shit.