8. Abigail
EIGHT
ABIGAIL
I wondered how maximum-security prison compared to the New Elwood holding cell, and if it was worth going away for life without parole. Yes, I was considering murder.
What in the hell had I signed up for? Hosting Rex and Donny was one thing—but Blair? Let’s just say the girl had been here for five seconds and already I couldn’t stand her. Not that she was a peach to be around before.
She was my age, but we hadn’t really interacted much in school. She’d been the stereotypical popular girl, blonde and beautiful and knowing it. Seemed like being a social media darling had only amplified those aspects of her personality.
She tossed her freshly highlighted locks back and forth as she batted her eyelashes at Rex like they were still dating. And why did that bother me so much?
I had to remind myself of one thing: At least Gabe wouldn’t find out about my night in jail. This would be worth it, because I wanted my brother to finally look at me like I was a functional adult. I could deal with this for a week. Maybe, when this was all over, I could go back to Sinclair and take the leap toward my own real estate agency. That would show everyone that I could do something right once in a while.
What were the chances I could talk Donny into whisking her off for a romantic elopement tomorrow? Anything to get her out of here. And speaking of Donny…what the hell was up with him playing up for the camera? Sure, he was a pro footballer, but with all his injuries, he hadn’t spent much time on the field. Had all of that attention and D-list fame really gone to his head? Was he really that guy now?
Blair sent a coy smile at Rex and stroked her nails over his bare arm. “Be careful with the garment bag. It’s got my dress in it.”
“Sure,” Rex said easily, turning to the door and heading toward their car.
Blair shifted her gaze from his butt to my face. She smiled at me, and it didn’t reach her eyes. It was a look that said, See what I can do within seconds of walking into your home?
Who was she to march up in here, not-so-subtly insult my house, and then bat those false eyelashes at my boyfriend? Ignoring the fact that he wasn’t actually my boyfriend for a moment…
Hell no.
Blair’s gaze drew to the floor and her face lit up. “Oh, I didn’t know you had a cat.” She hunched down, leading with her hand toward Winston. With his hair standing at the back of his neck and that look in his eyes, I knew he wasn’t a fan of hers either. I smiled.
She reached for him, and he let out a guttural groan, then swatted his paw at her. She flinched backward with a yelp, narrowly saving her hand. Winston advanced, hissing.
I deadpanned. “Oh no, Winston, stop, don’t.”
Winston’s back arched and he hissed again.
Blair backed up and demanded, “What’s his problem?”
“Well, how would you feel having a stranger stay at your house?” I reflected that phony smile of hers right back.
She scoffed and turned her attention to the open door. Rex hauled a huge, bulging suitcase out of the trunk. The streetlights shone down on his muscular frame, and Blair let out a little noise that, to my ears in my seething state, sounded a little bit like mournful longing.
He stepped onto my front porch, one suitcase rolling behind him on either side. Blair just stared…at my boyfriend, dammit. Sort of.
“Hey, Rexy,” I blurted. Rexy? I immediately sent him a telepathic apology.
“Um, yes, Abbi,” he replied, giving me a funny look as he entered the house carrying Blair’s crap.
“Why don’t you show our guests to the guest room,” I suggested, putting on my best version of a helpful girlfriend. “Dinner should be here soon.”
Before I could stop myself, I leaned over, put a hand on his shoulder, and pecked a kiss against his cheek.
“Sure.” Rex seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes clinging to mine, but then he ushered them down the hallway along with all their luggage.
With Blair out of sight, I felt better already. Moments later, the doorbell rang again. Finally, something good coming through the door. The pizza guy handed over the large order. The smell of marinara and melted cheese instantly lifted my spirits.
I set everything out on my dining room table along with real plates, forks, and actual paper napkins instead of just folded paper towels. Martha Stewart, eat your heart out.
“Rexy?” Rex asked, slightly startling me from behind.
When I turned around, my eyes drew up his broad chest. He was taller when he was so close, and that made Rexy a little sexy.
I shook the thought away. “You try being a fake girlfriend on such short notice. She was batting her eyelashes at you, and I panicked.”
Rex’s smile turned darkly delighted. “You got jealous.”
“I did not.”
“You got so jealous, your panties are probably still twisted up.”
“You seem to be taking quite an interest in my panties, Mr. Montgomery.”
He stepped up to me, and my heart went pitter-patter. “Are they lacy today?”
A door opened down the hall. We were about to have company.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I hissed.
Rex moved closer, his hand touching the side of my hip. “Maybe I would,” he rumbled.
Oh, dear.
Had he meant…?
“All right! Pizza!” Donny’s enthusiastic energy entered the room before he did. Were they recording this too?
I stole a glance at Rex, watching the way his face transformed to pleasant, approachable, Boy Scout Rex as our guests entered the room. There was no hint of the man who teased me about my panties or stalked toward me like I was the only thing in the world he wanted.
“Is this from Antonello’s?” Donny asked.
“It sure is,” I said with false brightness, my chin high. I figured if I was hosting out-of-town guests, I should spring for the best pizza in New Elwood. I swept my hand toward the table, hostessing with the mostessing. “Help yourselves.”
Rex was still standing right next to me, his arm brushing mine. My breathing didn’t seem to be working right. The glitter in his eyes told me his mind was still on our interrupted conversation.
We really couldn’t go there. Gabe finding out about my arrest would make him think I was completely useless as an adult. Him finding out that I’d hooked up with his best friend? Unforgivable.
Blair approached the dining table, staring down at the delectable Italian pies like I’d gotten them out of the dumpster. “Oh, pizza.”
“Is there a problem?” I asked, feeling my left eye begin to twitch.
“I’m not eating carbs ahead of the wedding. Some of us should watch our figures,” she said, eyes flicking to my waistline.
Red-hot anger flamed in my chest. Unfortunately, I was an emotional eater. Fortunately, there were three large pizzas less than two feet from me. I grabbed a slice of pepperoni, smiled at the classic Antonello-style cheese pull, then looked at Blair while I took a bite. I swallowed and said, “I have half a rotisserie chicken in the fridge if you prefer. ”
She gave me one of those phony smiles like everything was okay when she was really seething behind it. I could relate.
“Abigail ordered salad too,” Rex offered, gesturing to the bowl of iceberg lettuce coated with Italian dressing. “Chicken and veg!”
She tucked her fallen hair behind her ear and took a seat. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, T.”
“T?” I asked, taking another big bite. The pepperoni rounds were acting like little cups to catch all the pizza grease. It was divine.
Blair waved a hand and giggled. “You know, like T-Rex. An old nickname.”
I grimaced and chewed on my food while Rex got the chicken out of the fridge and prepped a bowl of salad for Blair. My eyes narrowed. Was it inappropriate for my fake boyfriend to be fixing a special meal for his real ex-girlfriend-slash-future-sister-in-law? It felt inappropriate. But then again, I was angry, and Blair was the worst.
“So Abigail, how long have you and Rex been a thing?” Blair asked, smiling at Rex as he put her bowl of salad down in front of her.
Rex and I shared a side-eye glance. “Uh…” I started.
“You know, we’ve been together for a bit,” Rex answered. He took a seat next to me and leaned his arm across the back of my chair. I scooted closer to him, and his hand dropped onto my shoulder, thumb stroking the bare skin above the neckline of my shirt. A hot rush went through me at his touch, and I cleared my throat to cover it up.
Blair followed our movements with sharp, beady eyes, then dropped her gaze to her bowl. “A minute. So I guess it’s not serious yet, then,” she said, keeping her eyes on her carb-free meal that I paid for, which she was eating in the house that I also paid for.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Rex said.
She shot him that snotty smile. “I get it, Rex. I’m a hard act to follow.”
I nearly choked on my pizza.
“Blair,” Donny corrected her, looking wounded.
“What? He knows I’m joking. Right, Rex?”
Rex let out a half-chuckle. “Yeah, funny.”
“You always had a great sense of humor,” she said, then looked at me. “Isn’t he hilarious? He must make you laugh like all the time.”
Rex, funny? That wasn’t a side I’d seen of him. Not since his fart jokes in high school. But I couldn’t say that to Blair; who knew how she’d fire it back at me? I couldn’t say anything because Donny snapped, “Hey, I’m hilarious too.”
Blair brushed his bearded cheek. “Of course you are, babe. It runs in the family.”
It was more like she ran in the family, and she wanted me to know it.
This wasn’t even a real relationship, but I was getting real mad. I’d finished my piece of pizza, so I grabbed another and ignored the raised eyebrow Blair sent my way. My waistline could accommodate a couple more slices. Even more if I popped my top button.
“So, Abigail, your job must be so taxing that you don’t have time to make dinner. What is it that you do?” Blair asked, tilting her head and painting another false smile on her lips.
I looked at Rex. “I think I need to call my brother. ”
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
“It’s important.”
“It can wait, Abigail,” he warned, his voice dropping low. When he spoke like that, it made me forget that he was supposed to be the good guy. It made my mind fast forward to tonight, when he’d be in my room until the sun came up again. Where we’d be, alone. Together.
“It really can’t wait, Rex,” I told him. “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to see that one through, won’t you?” Rex said, still using that low, commanding voice.
Donny cleared his throat, and I realized with a start that we weren’t alone. I straightened and painted a false smile of my own on my face, then finally answered Blair’s question. “I’m a real estate agent. A good one.”
“I saw the advertisements of you on the bus stop benches on the drive through town,” Donny said, smiling. “Awesome.”
I relaxed slightly. “Thanks, Donny.”
“Right.” Blair pushed a cherry tomato around on her plate with the tip of her fork. “You must work a lot of evenings and weekends. That must make it difficult to care for your man.”
Care for my man? What was she getting at? I set down my slice and leaned on my elbows, glaring at her. “And what’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”
“Nothing. I’m just more traditional. Men are such good providers, I think it’s important we support them and the rest of the family.”
“Is that why you run your own business?” I asked, jaw clenched. Where did she get off?
She rolled her eyes. “Hardly. I just post about our life. The fact that I get paid for it is just a bonus. But I’m entirely focused on Donny and his football career.”
There wasn’t much of a football career. His injuries had benched him, and now he was pushing thirty. But rubbing that in her face could be a slight against Donny, who I had nothing against—except the fact that he brought this obnoxious woman into my house.
“Well, aren’t you just the perfect girlfriend,” I mumbled.
She grinned and giggled. “Fiancée, but yeah, I am.”
I wanted to smack my pizza across her stupid face.
Beside me, Rex shifted. “I love that Abigail works,” he offered. “And if I ever want to take the bus, I get to sit on her face, for a change.”
I choked on a ball of half-eaten pizza.
Rex thumped me on the back and laughed. Then he added, “But for real, Abigail’s the best real estate agent in town. She works hard, and it shows. Couldn’t be prouder.”
I sat back, meeting his dark brown eyes. I knew this was fake, and he had to be lying, but he looked so sincere. And when was the last time someone actually recognized how good I was at my job?
Gabe sure didn’t. To him, I was a screwup who somehow managed to pay my bills. To my parents, I was little troublemaking Abigail who’d misbehaved since she could babble.
But Rex almost seemed like he believed what he was saying. That he was proud of me for working so hard.
“My daddy always said that real estate agents are the scourge of society,” Blair offered, spearing a piece of chicken and twirling her fork.
The sudden vulnerability that had assailed me with Rex’s comment suffered a direct hit. I jumped, turning to Blair, wanting to eviscerate her. Guest in my house or not, she’d just crossed a line.
“Didn’t your daddy commit fraud and almost get sent to prison?” Rex cut in, his voice casual, but his eyes hard. His arm was back on my chair, his thumb making soothing strokes against my neck. I sat back into his touch, head spinning.
Blair had the audacity to look offended.
Suddenly, it was too much. I was in this position because I was too afraid to own up to my mistakes, and now I had to deal with the worst houseguests in history. Not only that, but Rex Montgomery, of all people, was flying to my defense and making me feel things I had no business feeling.
I could deal with a pesky little attraction to him. Sexy Rexy was hot. That was okay. But I couldn’t deal with him believing in me. That hit just a little bit too close to the heart of me.
I got through life running on pure defiance. Everyone expected me to fail and mess up? That was fine—it’s what drove me to close deals on previously unsellable properties. But when someone actually said they were proud of me, and sounded like they meant it?
Well…that was so rare that I wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. I wasn’t sure how to handle any of this.
I stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I need some fresh air.” I stomped out the front door and slammed my butt against the porch swing so hard it rocked up, sweeping my feet off the ground. I grunted in frustration. Was this how it was going to be all week? I was going to have my feet cut out from under me at every turn ?
The only thing that made me feel better when I was in this mood was work. The one thing I was truly good at. I pulled out my phone and flicked through my emails—but even the sight of two new messages from sellers wanting me to list their properties for sale couldn’t lift my spirits.
The front door creaked open. “Hey,” Rex said, and I only shot him a look. I didn’t want to be close to him—or anyone else—right now. He leaned against the porch column, watched me, and said, “That was harsh.”
I reared back, pushing off the ground to swing more aggressively. “ I was harsh? What about her? I open my home to her and she eggs me on like that?”
“That’s what I meant. Blair was kind of being a bitch.”
Oh. So it wasn’t just me who saw what she was doing. My tense shoulders softened as he pushed himself off the column, then timed it perfectly so he could take a seat next to me. The swing squeaked slightly in the warm night.
I stared at the streetlight through the fluttering leaves of my oak tree. “I’m not really a fan of guys calling women bitches, but in this case, she really is. What did you ever see in her?”
Rex let out a little laugh. “I don’t know. She wasn’t that bad when we were together. We gravitated toward each other because we were both at transition points in our lives, living in town, wondering what we were doing. We were young.”
“Well, you dodged a bullet,” I said, wishing I had been as lucky with my ex. If he’d been honest about wanting to be with other women when we were dating, I wouldn’t have caught him cheating after years of marriage and trying to keep him happy. Maybe it was my fault for not being enough to keep him loyal. Maybe I shouldn’t have wanted him to be someone he wasn’t .
After all, wasn’t that what I’d always wanted? To be anything but the girl who always screws everything up?
“Yes, I dodged a nuke. And just so you know, you’re a way better fake girlfriend than she was a real one.” Rex placed his hand over mine, the warmth of his skin racing up my arm. All of those sexy Rexy thoughts that had been floating in my mind began to solidify. I sucked in a stiff breath and our eyes met. But he was Rex Montgomery. My brother’s best friend. My fake boyfriend. The guy to whom I owed a huge favor.
Not included in that list? Rex Montgomery: appropriate dating prospect, man who would tolerate me for longer than a week, or the guy who was going to save me from myself.
Being attracted to him—and feeling a rush of closeness when he flew to my defense earlier—was just the other side of the same old coin. I had a chance to get out of a sticky situation with jail and my brother, and I was going to mess it all up by falling for him.
The only way I knew how to get out of this mess was to put my walls all the way back up.
“Even though I’m too busy to make my man dinner?” I joked, taking my hand back and willing my racing heart to slow down.
Rex smiled and looked into my eyes. “I happen to like pizza for dinner. And I can’t cook for shit, either, so I can’t exactly expect my woman to do it.”
“Score one for the hostess with the mostess,” I said, pumping my fist and patently ignoring how thrilling it was for Rex to call me his woman.
Rex leaned back, chuckling, and slung his arm across the back of the swing. I fought the urge to scoot closer, and we listened to the crickets and the squeaking of my swing until I let out a long sigh.
Rex, reading me like a book, glanced over at me. “Ready to go back in?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I said, taking the hand he extended to help me up.