5. Abigail
FIVE
ABIGAIL
One of the good things about being a single, independent adult was that I could decide exactly what kind of hostess I wanted to be. As the evening of my favorite bi-weekly ritual rolled around, I was a “dump chips into a bowl and call it a day” kind of hostess, with a dash of “provide ample amounts of booze to make up for it” on the side. My guests for the evening didn’t seem to mind.
It was my turn to host Hooker’s Paradise, a crocheting club that had turned into a gossip session I looked forward to every two weeks. When we were teenagers, Charlie had begged me to come along to save her from the boredom of the meetup. Her mom was an avid crocheter, and we were too-cool-for-school teens who wanted nothing to do with it. As time went on, our attitudes changed, and now the two of us, along with Sophie, were in the regular rotation to host the event.
Minnie, a fifty-something-year-old public servant who worked at Town Hall, crunched on a BBQ-flavored chip then slugged back the gin and tonic I’d prepared for her. “You know,” she said, ignoring the ball of yarn in her lap, “a cat isn’t a terrible idea.”
Minnie was one of the three older ladies who attended Hooker’s Paradise. She liked bright red lipstick and talking smack about people she thought deserved it (and a lot of people deserved it). I wanted to be her when I grew up.
I blinked over at her, a glass of wine dangling between my fingers. “You think it’s time?”
She shot me a look. Her arched brow answered my question and then some. Of course it was time: time to put the cat back into crazy cat lady. It had been a long time since I’d had a feline friend. When I was four, my mom brought in a stray black cat. I called him Mr. Kitty, because I’ve never claimed to be creative. He immediately made himself at home, drank milk from one of my little bowls, and slept at the foot of my bed for four nights straight. I thought I was the luckiest little girl in the whole world.
But that fifth night, he never came to the foot of my bed. It turned out that my father brought him to the shelter because Gabe broke out in a rash after days of watery eyes and scratching his face. A classic cat allergy. That’s how protective Gabe was—he’d even find a way to keep a male cat away from me.
But he wasn’t the only one. My ex also forbade me from getting a cat because of a so-called allergy. But knowing him, a guy who hardly sneezed during pollen season, it was really about keeping fur off of his suits. He claimed that no one successful walked around with cat hair on their clothes. That’s when I said to him, “Tell that to Taylor Swift. ”
He put his foot down on the subject like he did with many. He was an attorney—it wasn’t always easy winning an argument with him. After that, I sort of gave up on the idea.
Until now.
I glanced around at the others—white-haired, silent Ida, who had completed more rows than all of us put together; terrifying and multiple-times divorced Evelyn, who splashed a little whiskey in her hot tea cup; Charlie, who brushed crumbs from Sophie’s homemade cookies off her mouth; and of course Sophie, who just offered a supportive smile. They all had the same look in their eyes—time to get that kitty cat.
“Okay, I’ll get a cat,” I declared, and they all cheered. My heart swelled. A little purring motor to keep my feet warm at night. What could be better? I lifted my glass of wine—and paused, frowning. “Where do I even find one? Are there cats-for-sale listings online?”
Charlie huffed a laugh. “It’s not like real estate.”
“You can come by the shelter. We get cats in every week. Really sweet ones too,” Sophie offered. “Right now there’s an absolute darling tuxedo who’s just waiting to find the right human. I think he’d like you! We’ve named him Winston.” Sophie beamed at me, sweet as the pie she made daily for her café. Not only did she make the best pastries in town at Magnolia Café, but she also volunteered at the animal shelter.
People often joked about how in the world the two of us ever ended up being friends, to which I always responded, “She just has a thing for strays, I guess!” It never failed to make them laugh and to help me resist the urge to slug them in the face for being so rude. So I guess it was kind of surprising we were friends, after all .
Sophie looked at the half-done crocheted pillow cover lying over her knees as she shook her head. “Sometimes it feels impossible not to adopt them all. But Twinkle Toes the Third is still as unsociable as ever, so I can’t welcome anyone new to my house.”
“Well, I’m only in the market for one, and Winston sounds like a catch,” I said, and my phone buzzed next to my thigh. It wasn’t unusual; my phone rang a lot. Came with the territory of being a successful realtor in a town going through a boom. I scooted the tangled yarn off my lap to check the screen, but it wasn’t a prospective buyer or a client in need of reassurance. It was Rex. For some inexplicable reason, my pulse sped up. I flicked a glance up at the group.
Ida was diligently crocheting. Evelyn was knitting (the traitor) and drinking her boozy tea. Charlie was reaching for another cookie, and Sophie had returned to her pillow cover.
But Minnie was looking at me, because she could sense juicy gossip like a bloodhound chasing after a fat, terrified pheasant.
“You going to answer that?” Minnie asked, a devilish twinkle in her eyes. Yeah, she’d seen the name on the screen. Dang it.
Answer a call from Rex Montgomery in the middle of Hooker’s Paradise? No, that wasn’t a good idea. I hadn’t told the ladies about my little agreement with my brother’s best friend. And if I could get away with it, they wouldn’t hear a whisper about it until after the wedding was over.
“No, it’s not important,” I said and silenced the call. That’s when I saw he’d called two other times in the last hour. Frowning, I opened my call log to double-check. Even with this little scheme, that didn’t seem like him. He must have butt- dialed me or something. And just as I was about to tuck my phone away, it rang again.
Rex. That flutter in my chest sped up, which was ridiculous. Was something wrong? Did he want to cancel? Why did that make me feel like curling up into a ball under my duvet for the next three days?
“Who’s calling you?” Charlie asked.
I swallowed hard, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. “Um, no one.” I silenced the call again and shoved it between the couch cushions. There. Rex, or his butt, was just going to have to wait.
Charlie narrowed her eyes. She knew something was up. She always did. I grabbed my glass of wine and sucked down a few big swigs. As the alcohol warmed my chest, I settled back into the sofa, trying to think of a way to steer the conversation away from me for at least a few minutes.
I turned to the gray-haired woman sitting to my left. “Evelyn,” I started, “I heard a rumor that you killed your third ex-husband.”
Ida snorted.
Evelyn arched her brows. “Now, where’d you hear that?”
“I can’t reveal my sources,” I said, grinning. “So is it true?”
“If it is, he deserved it,” Minnie interjected.
“The rat bastard,” Ida agreed in a low mumble.
Evelyn gave a casual shrug. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead. All I’ll say is that he was a wonderful lover.”
“Half the women in town can attest to that,” Minnie grumbled.
“Oh?” I said, not even having to feign interest. This was good. Sophie and Charlie had put their crochet projects down, and even Ida was eyeing us with a speculative look on her face. No one was thinking about Rex or why he was blowing up my phone.
Well. No one apart from me.
Then there was a knock at the door.
“Who could that be? It’s after dark,” Evelyn asked with that ready-for-anything look in her eye.
“There’s the pizza guy,” Charlie said, practically bouncing out of her seat.
“You ordered pizza?” I asked, more relieved than offended. Charlie shrugged as she scooted around Ida’s knees.
“Oh, thank God,” Minnie chimed in.
“What? Chips and booze ain’t good enough for you ladies?” I joked.
Charlie playfully swatted my shoulder as she passed by. “I’m just saying. A little pepperoni never hurt anyone.”
A dirty joke danced on the tip of my tongue, but then Rex’s face popped into my head. Seriously, something was wrong with me. Rex was not hot! Rex was anti-hot. He was the “very nice boy” your mother tried to set you up with. The guy who sparked nothing, no heat, no excitement, nada. Rex and pepperoni-penis jokes did not exist in the same realm. How my brain had connected them, I had no idea, but it had to stop.
As far as I was concerned, Rex had no pepperoni in his pants. And if he did, it wasn’t the kind I liked. I was a spicy salami kind of gal. I didn’t like no mild sausage. No thank you.
But there’d been that glint in his eyes. That little coy smile. The way he’d made my heart speed up by being a lying, scheming, fake-date-needing kind of guy.
Mercifully saving me from my own raving thoughts, Charlie’s footsteps returned to the living room a moment later.
But it didn’t smell like pizza.
“Uh…Abigail,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “Someone’s here to see you.”
My stomach dropped. I turned.
Charlie stood with her arms crossed and a knowing expression. Rex stepped into the light behind her, his dark hair and slashed brow coming into view. I supposed those calls weren’t from his butt, after all.
In the low light of the sconces in my hall, he didn’t look like a Boy Scout. He arched a brow at me, then dipped his chin and said, “Ladies,” in a smooth, buttery voice, and I swear my panties got a little wet.
I squeezed my thighs together like it would help me regain my sanity.
“Why, Rex Montgomery,” Minnie said with a playful smirk. Her gaze flicked to me. “Fancy seeing you here.”
The bloodhound had scented some gossip. There was no escape. I wanted to die.
Rex, the fool, didn’t know a trap when it was right under the soles of his feet. He flashed a smile at the older woman and said, “Yeah. Hi, Minnie.”
“Oh, Rex was just leaving,” I interjected, jumping up. The yarn in my lap tumbled to the ground.
Not one single person reacted to my outburst.
“You didn’t happen to bring a pizza with you, did you?” Evelyn spoke up.
Rex’s brow wrinkled as he took in the question. He flashed that grin again, and damn it! He looked good! I needed to replace those sconces with fluorescent bulbs. Good lighting was doing funny things to my brain. Rex spread his arms out to show the lack of pizza, and it happened to tug his T-shirt tight against his chest while the sleeves rode up a little on his biceps. He had those big, beefy firefighting arms, and why was I noticing them now ? “Can’t say that I did,” he said. “You ladies hungry?”
“Oh,” Minnie said, drawing out the word, an evil look on her face as she looked my way. “We are starving .”
“Then to what do we owe this pleasure?” Evelyn followed up, setting her needles aside. Her eyes darted to me, and I knew there was no escape. Minnie, I could’ve fobbed off with some made-up story. Evelyn? Evelyn could spot bullshit at a hundred paces.
Rex darted a glance my way, and I begged him with my eyes not to say something stupid.
“I’m here for Abigail,” he said, and I willed my old house to finally come crashing down right on top of his stupid head.
“You’re here for Abigail ,” Minnie repeated, delighted.
“Do you guys have a date?” Sophie asked, brightening. “We can cut Hooker’s short tonight.”
“No!” I exclaimed at exactly the same moment Rex said, “Um. Sort of, I guess.”
There was a short, deafening silence.
“What kind of date?” Charlie asked.
Rex and I shared a look as my cheeks burned hot.
“He’s looking to list his house for sale. Right, Rex?” It was technically true, though I knew that had nothing to do with why he was calling me and why he had stopped by my house at eight o’clock at night. I clenched my teeth and tried to smile. “It’s a date to go over the comps in town. ”
“Isn’t that something you can take care of during business hours?” Minnie was like a surgeon, dissecting this interaction with a sharp-edged scalpel, slicing open the idea that something more was going on. Something more was going on. But it wasn’t what she was thinking.
God, what were they all thinking now? I could only imagine the questions that would follow the moment he left.
“Real estate never sleeps,” I said brightly, stomping over to my uninvited guest.
“Oh, yeah. It goes all night long,” Ida remarked, and we all shot her a look. She kept her eyes on her hands while Evelyn let out a hoot.
I grabbed Rex by the wrist and dragged him down the hall and into the guest bedroom, shutting the door behind us. The hooting got louder.
“Rex, what are you doing here?” I demanded, trying to keep quiet.
“I need to talk to you. You weren’t answering any of my calls.”
“Yeah, because, as you can see, I’m busy.” I waved a hand toward the living room and smacked it against the door in the process. When I winced, Rex stepped forward like he wanted to fix it.
Ha. Little did he know, I was unfixable.
Rex rubbed the back of his neck, and I could tell he felt bad about the whole thing. “Yeah, sorry about that. But it’s important.”
“What could be so important that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” I asked, and he hesitated.
Oh, no .
Whatever the reason he’d come here, it had to be bad. A terrible thought struck. “Is this about Gabe? Is he okay?”
Rex shook his head. “Gabe’s fine. It’s not that.”
“Then what? Did you tell him what happened? He knows about my arrest,” I guessed. I slapped a hand against my forehead. This was a disaster. I was never going to hear the end of it.
“It’s not that. He doesn’t know. It’s about Donny’s wedding.”
I narrowed my gaze. “What about the wedding?”
“Well, not the wedding, exactly, but the hotel for the wedding.”
“I thought the wedding was at the botanical gardens.”
“I mean the hotel for Donny and Blair. The bridal suite.”
“Okay, what about it? Did it burn down?” I joked, thinking of Charlie and Sebastian.
“What? No.” He frowned like fire was no laughing matter, which I supposed it wasn’t, but the look on his face still made me feel slightly steadier. Rex was acting good-guy, finger-wagging responsible, and that wasn’t nearly as sexy as him showing up and swaggering into my living room like he loved all the attention.
I rocked back on my heels and opened my eyes wide. “So? What’s going on?”
“There isn’t one.”
Huh? “Come again?” I asked.
“Donny made a slight oversight and now all the hotels are booked and they have no place to stay.”
That sucked for Donny. “And?”
“And Donny thinks we’re together, so he thought it would be a good idea to stay here.”
What was he talking about? “Here?”
“Yeah. Here.” When he said that, he glanced around like he’d just realized we were in a bedroom. He blinked at my bed, then looked at me.
I was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “Are you telling me Donny wants to stay at my house ?” The last words came out as a shout, and I glanced over my shoulder like the ladies in the living room would burst through the door and cackle at me. I whisper-shouted, “Are you out of your mind?”
“I tried to talk him out of it.”
“Oh, you tried to talk him out of it!” I whisper-shouted more aggressively. “How’d that go?”
He cringed. “He came up with the idea because you’re so close to the venue. Plus you have plenty of space.”
My brain was sluggish; it took me a second to process. Rex gave me a little smile, spreading his arms. “Whaddya think?”
“I think you’re out of your mind, Rex. Why can’t they stay at your house?”
Rex shrugged. “You know. It’s a bachelor pad. That’s why I’m going to sell it.”
If Rex’s place wasn’t fit for Donny and the Social Media Princess, then I wasn’t sure mine was any better. Besides: “And where are you going to stay?”
He bit his lip and stared at me meaningfully.
I threw my palms up. “Absolutely not.”
“Abigail—”
“No.”
“It would only be for a week?—”
“A week ?”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but—what are you doing? ”
I swiped to unlock my phone, flicking away the notifications for work emails that had piled up since I last looked. “I’m calling Gabe. I’ll just tell him about the arrest and get this over with. Nothing he can say to me is worth this.”
Rex reared back. “Sleeping with me is that repulsive to you?”
The words “sleeping with me” made a sharp, hot thrill race through my middle. I glared to cover it up. “Oh, now we’re sleeping together, are we?”
Rex’s jaw clenched. “You know what I meant.”
“I have no idea what you mean anymore, Rex. First it was a date, then it was two, and now this.”
From my palm, my brother’s voice said, “Hello? Abigail? Is everything okay?”
I glared at Rex and lifted my hand to put my phone to my ear, but the man plucked it right out of my grip and said, “Hey, man, it’s me.”
“Rex?” my brother’s faint voice asked. “Why do you have my sister’s phone?”
“I needed to ask her a favor. I’ll call you in a bit,” he said, and hung up the phone.
My mouth dropped open. White-hot outrage filled my chest. “You are not the man I thought you were, Rex Montgomery,” I proclaimed, and for a fraction of a second, I didn’t know if I meant it in a good way or a bad way.
Then I came to my senses. I meant it in a bad way. A terrible way. The worst way.
“Give me my phone back.”
He did, then said, “Look. I’ll owe you one for this.”
“I think I’m about done with exchanging favors with you, Rex.” I stared at my phone. All I had to do was dial Gabe again and tell him the truth.
The truth, which was that I’d messed up. Again. I’d gotten in trouble and had to be saved. I’d been impulsive and reckless, and pretty soon it was going to catch up to me. How many more times could I screw my life up before it all came crashing down?
I had a job and a home…for how long?
I was already divorced and painfully single. I couldn’t manage to host a get-together and feed the easiest guests in the world. I went to battle for my friends, but I always took it too far. I shouldn’t have flattened Sebastian’s tires, and I definitely shouldn’t have pulled that fire alarm.
Yeah, I was good at my job. So what?
Screwing up was way too easy for me to do, and Gabe knew it. He wouldn’t even be mad, nor would he be disappointed. He’d be resigned .
Little Abigail Stone, who always managed to mess things up. Who couldn’t keep a house or a husband. Who had trouble boiling water for pasta without causing a small fire. Whose one successful act as a homeowner was installing a new compost bin that was now a receptacle for all her takeout containers and spent coffee cups instead of, you know, whatever people usually put in their compost. Egg shells? Grass clippings? What the hell did I know!
“Abigail,” Rex said, and I looked up to see his brows drawn, a pleading look in his eyes. “Please. No one could pull this off except for you.”
Oh, he was good. With that one sentence, he made me forget that I was the family fuckup; instead, I was the woman who was going to save him. And because it was Rex, I knew he wasn’t actually trying to be manipulative. He actually believed that I could help him. That I wouldn’t mess it up.
And I was a weak, sad little woman, because it worked on me. The best guy I knew told me he needed me, that he believed in me, and that validation tasted like the first drink of water after a long hike through Shenandoah National Park.
I sighed, my shoulders dropping. “Why didn’t you tell him to book somewhere out of town? Why this?” I waved a hand at my house.
Rex shoved his fingers through his hair, and for a moment, he looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wasn’t the happy-go-lucky guy who always did the right thing. He was tired .
“Donny…” Rex shrugged. “I’ve always taken care of him. Ever since Dad died. Even before that. You know?”
I gave him a wry smile. “I don’t, actually. I think I’m the Donny in my relationships.”
Rex snorted. “You’re a successful businesswoman who doesn’t take any shit, Abigail. You and Donny aren’t in the same universe.”
I stood up a little straighter, uncomfortable with the praise. “Right. Well. You know. Maybe he should learn to handle his own screwups?”
“He should,” Rex agreed. “He will. But he’s getting married, and he’s getting married to Blair , and…” He trailed off.
Suddenly, I understood. “If you don’t help him, it’ll look like you’re sabotaging the wedding because you’re hung up on your ex.”
Rex met my gaze, nodding. He took a step closer and reached for my arm. His hand was warm against my skin, his thumb brushing the inside of my elbow. It felt intimate and thrilling, and it made me want to lean toward him like a sunflower finding the light. His eyes were liquid night as he said, “I promise to bail you out of jail without question for the rest of your life. And you won’t have to pay me back.”
Snorting, I tore my arm away from his grip. My gaze landed on the bed, and I thought of the other bed upstairs. The one we’d be sharing. My pulse beat a little harder, so I could feel it thumping in my neck and the crook of my elbow where Rex had stroked me. I crossed my arms. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. What are we going to tell Gabe?”
“I’ll handle it,” Rex said, and he would. Rex was as dependable as the ocean tide.
I dragged my gaze back to his, and I realized that that part of him was maybe, sort of, kind of (purely academically speaking)... a little attractive.
A lot attractive. And not because I had a head wound or anything.
He flashed a smile at me, then slid his hand against my neck and leaned in to kiss my cheek. Chaste, casual, and quick. Not quick enough. Rough stubble scraped my skin, and the scent of him flooded my senses. I wobbled.
“I knew I could count on you, Abigail,” he said, standing closer to me now, close enough that I could see specks of amber in his dark brown eyes. His smile was soft, and I realized just how much taller and broader he was than me.
God, he smelled good.
My gaze dropped to his lips, then I spun around so fast I had to catch myself against the wall. “Okay, well, good. I’ll see you around,” I said, and tore the door open .
Bright lipstick on a smiling face drew my gaze down the hall. Minnie’s eyebrows wiggled, and then she disappeared around the corner.
I groaned, then reached behind me to haul Rex out of my guest room—and my home. My palm met hard muscle as I shoved his shoulder, and I got another hit of the smell of him as I hurried him down the hall toward the front door.
He hovered on the other side of the threshold, hands leaning against the frame. The night sky spread out behind him, the big oak tree in my front yard waving in a soft breeze. “Thank you, Abigail,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. “Watch your fingers.”
He peeled his hands off the frame and held my gaze for a few long moments, then arched a brow as my phone rang. Gabe.
Heart pounding, I swiped to answer. “Hi.”
“Is Rex still with you? I just tried calling, and he didn’t answer his phone.”
Rex, obviously hearing Gabe through the earpiece on my phone, did not do as he was told and leave my property.
“Um, no,” I lied, then balanced it out with a truth: “I’m at home.”
“Why were you calling me? Is everything okay?”
Rex watched me. I could see in his eyes that he doubted what I was going to say. We’d come to an agreement…sort of. I could blow it up right now by telling Gabe what had happened.
Instead, what came out of my mouth was, “It’s just my bathroom sink.”
“Clogged again? I told you, Abigail, you’ve got to stop rinsing your clumps of hair down the drain.”
Suddenly, I really didn’t want to admit any wrongdoing to Gabe. He was always there for me, but he had a way of always expecting the worst. Would it be so hard for him to actually think that I could function properly, for once?
“I’ll just get a plumber to figure it out,” I said. “Gotta go.”
I hung up the phone and met Rex’s gaze.
“You didn’t tell him about me bailing you out of jail,” he noted.
I shrugged, not wanting him to see just how much my brother’s casual dismissal of me affected my emotions. “I don’t back out when I give my word. We have a deal.”
His smile was blinding, and it did funny things to my stomach. “We sure do,” he said, then dipped his chin and turned to leave.
I closed the door and leaned my forehead against it. A long, tortured groan slipped through my lips.
I was attracted to Rex Montgomery. Painfully, desperately attracted to him, like I was a sixteen-year-old ninny again, except worse, because now I knew what sex felt like.
There was no way I could have sex with Rex. Never in a million years. Gabe would murder us both. Besides, Rex wouldn’t want that with me.
Except he’d just invited himself into my house…and my bed.
Oh dear.