“This is a lot of ice cream,” Abby said. She ate a spoonful, and pleasure rose in her eyes, as it had with the Danish. “Mm. This is just what I needed.”
He had a feeling Abby was just what he needed. “I haven’t had an ice cream sundae since . . . I have no idea when.” He ate some ice cream and said, “So, what made you finally leave the island?”
She licked the sweet treat from her spoon. “You don’t forget a thing, do you?”
“Not usually.”
“I forgot, you’re a finance guy. You’re probably as meticulous as Deirdra is about details.” She ate another bite, then said, “I was running myself ragged and getting nowhere. I wanted to get away and move on with my life, but every time I thought about leaving, I was swamped with guilt. One day Shelley pulled me aside and said that the life I was living wasn’t the life either of my parents wanted for me and that I needed to get off the island and move on. She said the island would take care of my mom. I didn’t understand why she said it wasn’t what my parents wanted for me instead of just what my father had wanted for me, but it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a definite push, and for some reason, hearing it from her made a difference. She wasn’t my sister, who was stuck in the trenches with me, or my mom, who I couldn’t look at without wanting to help. Shelley and I talked two or three times, maybe more before I finally decided to put in applications at a few restaurants in New York City near where Leni was living while she was attending college. When I finally got hired, Shelley and her husband, Steve, lent me money for culinary school, and a month later I made the move. I was lucky to have them watching out for me. And you know what? They never overstepped or made my mother feel like she was a bad parent, and I know that must have been hard for them. I also know they tried many times to get my mom to go to rehab, but . . .” She shook her head. “You can’t force sobriety on anyone.”
“It’s a shame that she wouldn’t go, but I’m glad Shelley and Steve were there for you. It must have taken a great deal of courage to move that far away and start over, leaving your mom behind, when it’s clear how much you loved her and how hard you tried to hold your family together. Was it terribly difficult?”
She finished the spoonful of ice cream she was eating, a sea of emotions swimming in her eyes, and said, “It was a lot of things. I was happy to be free from the worries of home one minute, and then the next I was frantic again about my mom trying to make ends meet by herself. And there were times when I was too busy to think about anything other than school and work, which made me feel even guiltier when I finally slowed down enough to think about home and what I’d done.”
“What you’d done? You mean leaving?”
“Yes. It was hard to escape the guilt. But at the same time, I had this overwhelming feeling of achievement that I had never felt before, and it was the most extraordinary feeling I’d ever had. I was out on my own, sharing an apartment with Leni, going to school, working as a waitress, and creating the life I wanted instead of being a cog in my mother’s wheel. Even though I had helped my mother keep the restaurant afloat, and I made sure she was okay, at least as best I could, I never felt that sense of accomplishment when I was home.” She ate another spoonful of ice cream, staring absently across the street as she said, “I came home a lot to check on my mom, and I remember the third or fourth time I came back, I really saw the full picture of the life I’d left behind and how dysfunctional it was.”
He put his hand on hers, and when her beautiful eyes found his, he said, “You were in survival mode for all those years—not just for yourself, but for your mother, and in some ways, I’d bet it was also for your father. He was gone, and you took over as your mother’s caretaker. But as her daughter, you couldn’t be him. Abs, you have the biggest, kindest, warmest heart, and you obviously put it all into your mom and keeping the business going.” That huge heart of hers called out to him on so many levels, it had him questioning the most important things he believed in, the very foundation on which he’d built his empire. “That must have been devastating, seeing your mother’s downfall for what it was and accepting the loss of your childhood. To finally see and understand the magnitude of what it sounds like others must have seen all along. I wish I had known you then, so I could have been there to help you through it all. I’m glad you were living with Leni and had someone you trusted when those walls came tumbling down.”
“That’s exactly what it was like. Every bit of what you said. I had built walls between myself and reality in order to push through each day, and it was as if someone hit them with a sledgehammer. When I got back to my apartment, I broke down and cried. I cried for so long that night, Leni came into my room and lay on my bed, holding me as I wept. It was then, as my heart was breaking and I finally let the sadness out, that I realized I’d been so busy holding our lives together with bubble gum and Scotch tape, I had never grieved for my father. I think I cried for a week, holding it all in when I was at work and school, then falling apart at night. It was cathartic to finally grieve, and it allowed me to gain enough perspective to fit the various parts of my life into place, like a puzzle.” She tapped different parts of the table as she said, “Over here was my childhood with both of my parents. And over here was life with only my mom and Deirdra, and over here was my life after Deirdra left. Then all the way over here”—she touched the other side of the table—“was the new life I was building, and it was separate from the others, yet somehow it carried pieces of those other lives with it. Once I put all those pieces into their places, I felt so much better, like I was finally gaining control of my life. I vowed to never build those walls again, and that was when I finally understood what Shelley had meant when she’d said my parents wouldn’t have wanted that life for me. She meant the woman my mother had been before we lost my father, and that made sense because my mother loved me and Deirdra so deeply. Before my father died, she was always hugging us, singing, and dancing. And I know she loved us to the very end of her life, but it was different. Not enough to save her.”
“You must have missed that part of her desperately.”
“I did. I still do. Some of my favorite memories were sitting on the front porch singing with my mom while my dad painted, doing arts and crafts, and gardening. God, do I miss gardening. My mom was so proud of her vegetable gardens, and it made me proud to be part of them. I used to get so excited when we’d go out with our floppy rubber boots and weed the gardens and collect baskets full of vegetables. I’d stand on a chair at the sink and help my mom wash them while she talked about what dishes my father would make with them. He always made a big deal about using the vegetables we grew, and he’d make a show out of inspecting them and choosing the best ones. Then we’d go to the restaurant and he’d whip up a special, elegant meal with all the trimmings using the vegetables he’d chosen, and the four of us would eat it. My dad would put our drinks in wineglasses or champagne flutes. Gosh, it was so elegant.”
She looked dreamily at Aiden and said, “You know what? It was very much like our breakfast this morning.” She seemed to think about that for a minute with a faraway look in her eyes. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about that earlier. Anyway . . . gardening was a huge part of our lives before we lost my dad, and then, like everything else, it died with him. You asked me about resentment earlier, and I didn’t resent my mom the way Deirdra does, but everything my mom did made me sad. She had terminal cancer and passed away within a few weeks. She never even told us she was sick, so we never got to say goodbye. I guess that made me mad, but not nearly as much as it crushed my heart. I was devastated, but then she brought Cait into our lives, and that is helping to heal the hurt.”
“Jesus, Abs . . .” He wanted to hold her, to soak up all the years of hurt she’d felt so she’d never feel it again.
She pointed her spoon at him and said, “I swear, every time I’m around you, I blab like a conversation hog. I never spill all the details of my life like this. You must have put truth serum in my coffee and sprinkle
d it on the ice cream or something, and you’re actually listening to every word I say.”
“I learned a thing or two about females while raising Remi, like how to keep my ears open and my mouth shut. It was either learn to hear what she wasn’t saying or continue to annoy the hell out of her by responding in all the wrong ways.”
“You are a very wise man.”
“I don’t know about that, but I think you open up to me for the same reason I do to you. We sense the similarities in our lives. I was so busy raising Remi, I didn’t fully grieve for our parents until Remi got engaged about a year and a half ago.”
“Oh, Aiden.” Sadness rose in her eyes. “You held it in for that long?”
“I was busy making sure Remi was okay.” He took Abby’s hand, holding it between both of his, and said, “I thought Remi and I had been dealt a tough hand, but you lost the father who meant so much to you, you lost your mother first to drinking, then for good, and in between, you lost your childhood. And now you want to resurrect their restaurant.” Fighting his instincts with everything he had, for the first time ever, Aiden made a business decision with his heart instead of his head and said, “I know I should probably keep my thoughts to myself, but I think you should turn down that offer for the Bistro.”
“You do?”
The hope in her eyes made his heart beat faster. “I do. The restaurant is too big a part of you to let it go. You’re a remarkable woman, Abby, and if anyone can make a go of bringing their dreams to reality, I believe it’s you.”
“I’m not that remarkable. I just keep plowing forward and hope things turn out okay.”
They were both quiet for a beat, their eyes never wavering from each other. Aiden swore time stood still as “Abigail de Messiéres” slipped from his lips like a secret. The woman who is rocking my world by doing nothing more than being herself.
She swallowed hard, desire and something much deeper gazing back at him. Her tongue swept over her lower lip. Her eyes flicked to the sundae, then back to him. “Do you want . . . ?” Her nearly whispered words trailed off as he leaned forward.
“Yes, I want.” He touched his lips to hers, light as a feather, testing the waters.
Her lips were warm and sweet, and she didn’t pull away. He slid his hand to the base of her neck, and when her lips parted, he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid over hers, tasting, taking, heat surging through his body. She grabbed his shirt, tugging him forward, giving him the green light he craved. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hauling her closer, bringing her knees between his legs. His other hand pushed into her hair, and he claimed more of her with every swipe of his tongue, plunging deeper, exploring, possessing. She made the sexiest noises, setting his entire body ablaze. She was still clutching his shirt with one hand when her other hand landed on his thigh, and he fought the urge to move it higher so she could feel what she was doing to him. Her mouth was heavenly and sinful at once. He’d promised himself he’d go slow, but as the cool evening air hit his heated flesh, there was no slowing down their feast of passion. She was as lustful and greedy for him, pushing forward, taking as eagerly as she gave. This wasn’t just a kiss; it was a release of tethers, a kiss that put all others to shame, and he never wanted to stop. He slowed his efforts, savoring every sensual second, the feel of her hand on him, the taste of her desire on her tongue.
The sounds of voices trickled through his haze of desire, and he realized he was making love to her mouth in front of an ice cream store. He forced himself to break their connection, leaving both of them breathless, but he kept her close, kissing the spray of freckles on her cheek; then he touched his forehead to hers and said, “Sorry, Abs. I got carried away.”
Abby could barely breathe, much less speak. She’d never been kissed like that before. Her lips tingled from the force of their passion, her skin burned from his whiskers, and his taste lingered in her mouth like her new favorite addiction. He ran his fingers through her hair and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, to her cheek, and to her lips again, alighting sparks beneath her skin, and he put just enough space between them so they could see each other’s faces.
He looked as blown away as she was as he said, “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Mm-hm. Better than okay. Can we put that on your list? Daily, please. This is going to be the best three weeks ever.”
He kissed her smiling lips again, and when her phone dinged with a text, a groan escaped before she could stop it.
“It’s okay,” he said with a chuckle. “We’ll have plenty more of those. I promise. You should check your text in case it’s important.”
“Sorry.” She pulled the phone from her pocket, saw Deirdra’s name on the message, and checked the time before reading it. She’d been gone for more than two hours? She quickly read her sister’s text. Where are you? We’re starved. Is he holding you captive with his BIG DEAL? She’d added an eggplant emoji. Do I need to kick some hot-guy ass or are you enjoying it?
Aiden lifted his chin. “Everything okay?”
She angled the phone so he wouldn’t see the message and said, “Yes. It’s Deirdra. I didn’t realize I’d been gone for so long. I’m really sorry, but I have to get back.” She thumbed out a response. Sorry! Lost track of time. Be home soon. Start dinner without me, and no kicking ass. He’s amazing!
“Do you want to take the sundae with you? Eat it on the way?”
She put her hand on her stomach and said, “No, thanks. I’m stuffed.”
“We’d better get a picture for Remi, or you might have to do this all over again.”
That didn’t sound bad to her!
He pulled out his phone and put his arm around her. “You know the drill, beautiful.”
She loved it when he called her beautiful and Abs. Heck, she loved everything he said and did.
He took the picture, careful to include the remnants of their sundae, and Abby realized her cheeks were still flushed and there was no hiding the desire in either of their eyes. She liked that, too.
“What’s your number, Abs? I’ll send you the pictures I took,” he offered.
She gave him her number and checked out the pictures as he forwarded them. Her eyes shone, and her smile overtook the pictures. She looked truly happy in every one of them. She’d almost forgotten what that looked like on her and, she realized, what it felt like, too. She sent him the pictures she’d taken as he threw out their sundae.
“You sure do make us look good.” He pocketed his phone, taking her hand as they headed down the sidewalk, and pressed a kiss to her temple.
How could something as little as holding hands and a temple kiss feel as big as that toe-curling kiss?
When they got back to her bike at the Bistro, he drew her into his arms without hesitation, and she loved that, too.
“This has been the best day I’ve had in so long, I’ll never forget a second of it,” he said, his eyes searching hers. Could he see that she felt the same? “Are we still on for breakfast tomorrow?”
“Definitely.”
His lips curved up, and he lowered them to hers, but while she readied for another earth-shattering devouring, he brushed his lips over hers, light as a feather. She closed her eyes as he held her tighter, and his tongue slid slowly, erotically, along her lower lip. “So sweet,” he whispered, making her knees go weak. He touched his lips to hers again, taking her in a slow, intoxicating kiss that went on so deliciously long, a needy noise escaped her lungs. She felt him smiling, but he didn’t break their kiss, and boy, she really loved that, too.
When their lips finally parted, she was clinging to him, and he embraced her, like he didn’t want to let her go, either. His head dipped beside hers, and he whispered, “Abigail de Messiéres, you might be my undoing.”
CHAPTER FIVE
ABBY COULD STILL hear Aiden’s voice whispering in her ear as she walked into her mother’s house. The living room and kitchen were empty. She called upstairs, “Dee?”
“We’re in Mom’s room,�
�� Deirdra called out to her.
Abby went upstairs to their mother’s bedroom and found Cait and Deirdra sitting on the floor by the hope chest. “Hey. Sorry I’m so late.”
Deirdra smirked. “That smile is even goofier than when you came home after kissing Wells for the first time.”
“Wells was a boy, and I never did much of anything with him. Aiden is a big, delicious, tantalizing man. Of course I look ridiculously goofy.”
Cait was looking at her like she’d lost her mind as Deirdra said, “Don’t tell me little Miss No Time for Orgasms got down and dirty already.”
“No, I did not. But I’m not saying I wouldn’t have. He’s . . .” She sighed, trying to come up with the right words, but she’d never met anyone like him before. She hadn’t even told her last boyfriend of almost a year half of what she’d shared with Aiden in a day. He listened so intently. There was no way to fake that or the way he looked at her like she was special. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “He’s pretty darn wonderful. We flew the kite and went for ice cream.”
“I bet.” Deirdra smirked. “You look like you enjoyed licking his cone.”
“Deirdra!” Abby should be used to her sister’s openness about sex, but every now and then she was still shocked by her.
“Sit with us. You can share all your mushy details later, when I have a glass of wine in my hand,” Deirdra said. “Did you know Mom sketched?”
“Mom didn’t sketch; only Dad did.”
Cait handed Abby a sketchbook with a beautiful color sketch of a child’s face. There was no mistaking the similarity to Cait’s big green eyes, but the fluff of light-brown hair didn’t match. She flipped through several pages of sketches of the same little girl. The sketches looked nothing like Deirdra’s or Abby’s baby pictures. “You think Mom drew these?”
“And these.” Deirdra pointed to several other sketchbooks between her and Cait.
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