15. Rex
FIFTEEN
REX
I’d spent the whole night twisting and turning beside Abigail, receiving the message loud and clear that she wanted nothing to do with me.
It made me realize how much I’d enjoyed the camaraderie she and I shared. She’d always been Gabe’s sister, but she’d never treated me like I was an outsider. I’d never hurt her feelings.
Until now.
Mowing her lawn was an easy way of apologizing. Abigail obviously hated yardwork, so I’d woken up early and figured I could try to make up for hurting her. Because the truth was, I respected the hell out of her. She’d left that spineless piece of wilted lettuce she’d called a husband and marched out of her divorce looking stronger and surer of herself. She always laughed off her brother’s jokes and made light of the way she always got in trouble.
But I’d misread her. Just like so many people misread me, thinking that I enjoyed being the self-sacrificing guy who would do anything for the people around him. The truth was, I didn’t know how else to be. I didn’t think anyone would care about me unless I put them first, always.
What if Abigail didn’t know how else to be? What if she needed someone to see her, the way I craved for myself?
The warmth of her in my arms was sweet bliss. The press of her against my front felt right in a way I couldn’t put into words. And the taste of her lips made me forget all the reasons we weren’t supposed to do this.
Abigail let out a soft noise of surprise and then almost immediately surrendered. She parted her lips and let me in, and a wave of satisfaction coursed through me. I clasped her tighter, my arm around her waist, the other stroking her cheek and jaw. Flyaway hairs tickled the tips of my fingers near her ear as I angled her head to deepen the kiss.
Slowly, I released her lips from mine. “How’s that for not keeping my hands to myself?” I asked, wanting to see the playful look of surprise in her eyes that I’d seen yesterday morning in bed. I wanted her to look at me and not see the fire marshal and volunteer firefighter, the good guy that everyone could rely on.
Instead, I wanted her to see me. The guy who ached for her, who wanted to touch and tease and torment until she finally let go.
Abigail brushed her mouth with her thumb. “Not bad.” Her eyes were glassy and wide, her mouth kiss-bruised.
I brushed flyaways behind her ear. “I can do better than ‘not bad.’” My words slipped through between pants, my left arm still banded around her .
Surrounded by the smell of cut grass, with the wind pressing my sweat-dampened shirt against my body, I pulled her in and pressed my mouth to her, forgetting about our audience. All that existed was Abigail, the tug of her fingers in my hair, the stroke of her hand against my neck. I was hard as stone for her, and none of it was fake.
Until the porch door banged, and Abigail sprang away from me. Flushed, she looked at Blair in the doorway. Her eyes sharpened slightly, and I remembered that we’d supposedly been performing for our audience.
Blair walked toward us with a smile that was a little forced, but she just shifted her gaze to me and asked, “Donny just got back from the store with a new bag of limes. We’ve made another batch of cocktails if you want one, Rex.”
The world was still a little unsteady under my feet, so I just lifted my palm and shook my head. “No, thanks.”
Blair tucked her hands in her back pockets, sticking her chest out. “You sure, T?”
I nodded. “Yeah, you go enjoy your party. I’m going to finish up here.”
Blair seemed to gulp back something. Pride, maybe? She turned back and disappeared into the house. Abigail seemed to wait for my attention, and I wanted to give it to her. All of it.
“You’re full of surprises, you know that?” she said.
“I’m not the only one.”
Abigail smiled and pulled away. “I’ve got to tour some houses for a client of mine soon.”
“Well, don’t worry. I’ll look after things around here.” I grabbed the bag that Abigail had dropped by our feet and got to work picking up the grass clippings. Abigail bumped her hip against mine, then proceeded back inside, swaying her hips with every step.
There was plenty to keep me busy with the yard, and I spent the remainder of the morning pulling weeds and trimming the bushes.
By the evening, Abigail was still out with her clients. Donny and Blair had gone out for dinner with their friends. They invited me to come along, but I was beat after working in the yard all morning. So I made myself some leftovers and fed Winston, who only came out once I was ten feet from his dish.
“What? It’s not like I pooped in your shoes,” I said when he shot me a look. After he scarfed his kibble, he gingerly tiptoed my way. I braced myself for a hiss or a scratch. But he just stopped and looked at me for a second, then walked away without a peep. I huffed a little laugh. Progress.
After dinner, I grabbed what looked like an interesting thriller novel from Abigail’s shelf, flipped on the porch light, and sat on the swing. It was one of those warm fall nights. Finally, Abigail’s headlights appeared in the dark as she pulled up the driveway.
She parked and walked up to the house, dressed in one of her smart black blazers, a tight, knee-length skirt, and heels that lengthened her already long legs. “Is the bride tribe still here?”
“Lucky for you, they’re all out at dinner.”
She sat next to me. “And you didn’t go with them?”
“Nah, I wanted some peace and quiet.”
“Tell me about it.” She shot me a look and we shared a laugh. She relaxed on the swing and let out a sigh. “I need to feed Winston.”
“Already done. ”
“Really?” she asked. “Even after what he did?”
“C’mon, Abigail. I’m a grown-up. I can take the high road.”
She arched a brow. “You didn’t seem to be taking the high road earlier.”
The glimmer in her eyes told me she was referring to our kiss. The kiss that’d been on my mind all day. I stretched my arm across the back of the porch swing behind her, resting the novel on my knee. “Maybe you don’t have me figured out as well as you think, Abigail.”
There was heat in her gaze, but before she could respond, another set of headlights pulled up the driveway. Donny and Blair had returned. And I got the sense that Blair wasn’t capable of taking the high road around Abigail. I stood up. “Let’s not hang out. We can tell them we’re off to bed.” I offered my hand and she took it.
Donny held Blair by the waist as they walked up the steps. Her legs wobbled beneath her.
“Hey T!” she said with a big grin, then dropped it when she looked at my fake girlfriend. “Abigail, you’re looking professional. That’s a surprise.”
The polite smile Abigail had been wearing morphed into something sharper.
“How was dinner?” I hurried to ask Donny.
“Good. I’ve got some leftover dessert if you guys want some,” he offered.
I wrapped my arm around Abigail’s waist, loving the way she leaned into me so naturally. “No, thanks. We’re off to bed.” I tugged Abigail with me, and she came with little resistance.
“Yeah, we have to hit the hay too. We’re off to DC in the morning.”
“Well, if I don’t see you guys before then, drive safe.” I patted my brother’s shoulder. “Night!”
When we were out of earshot, Abigail let out a sigh. “We’ll get a break from them tomorrow.”
“Thankfully,” I added.
After only a couple of nights, Abigail and I seemed to get into a nighttime routine taking turns with the bathroom, me turning down the sheets and the lights, and her letting the cat out. But tonight was a little different.
Tension thrummed between us, and not the chilly animosity that had filled the bedroom last night.
Now I knew how her lips tasted. And I knew the dazed, dizzy look on her face when we pulled apart couldn’t have been fake.
But she was still my best friend’s little sister, and indulging in this attraction could have major consequences. I could lose Gabe. He was the one person I’d been able to rely on my whole life. The one guy who took care of me as much as I took care of him.
That’s why, as we got into bed, I kept my hands to myself. Curling my arms behind my head, I stared at the ceiling and tried to ignore the rustle of silky fabric against the bedsheets beside me. Every movement brought the perfume of Abigail’s hair and skin toward me, and I forced myself not to turn into her.
Because the expression on her face after we’d kissed had looked real…but what if it wasn’t? What if I was attracted to her and I was projecting? This would be over after my brother and Blair tied the knot, and Abigail could easily walk away from me without looking back. Was that really worth ruining my friendship wi th her brother?
A moan floated up from the level below, and Abigail snorted. “They’re at it again,” she said.
“They are getting married in a couple of days.”
“You know, one thing I don’t understand is why Blair is all over you when she’s about to marry your brother. Is it a kink, or something?”
I turned my head. “What do you mean, all over me?”
Abigail rolled her eyes, then propped herself up on her elbow. “Excuse me? Are you serious right now?”
“That’s just how she is,” I said with a shrug.
“So when you were dating, she’d go up to other guys and tell them how she could tell they’d been working out?”
I grimaced. “Okay, so it’s a weird dynamic.”
“That’s an understatement.”
Abigail chewed her lip and stared at a spot on the wall. I was getting to know the expressions on her face a little better these days, and I could tell she was keyed up.
“It really bothers you, huh.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
A grin curled my lips. “Are you feeling possessive over your fake boyfriend, Abigail Stone?”
Her glare made my cock hard. “It’s just rude,” she said.
“Never knew you were such a little Miss Manners. I thought you were supposed to be the troublemaker.”
Abigail let out a harsh breath and fell back onto the pillows with a thump. “That’s what everyone says. They can’t help but expect the worst from me.”
The words came out casual, and she even flicked her hand as if to dismiss the statement, but I heard an edge in her voice. It was subtle, but it was there—and it seemed like these days, I couldn’t help but notice the little things about Abigail. The way her hair looked almost brown in low light. How she chewed the left side of her bottom lip when she focused. The shuttered look in her eyes when she was hurt.
She kept herself locked away behind a breezy, unaffected facade, but I was beginning to see the woman behind it.
And I wanted to know more.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t expect the worst from you.”
She glanced over. “Uh-huh.”
“Like I said, you’re the only one who could pull this off.”
“That’s what was going through your head when you added my name to your RSVP?” Her brow arched, the question digging somewhere I’d rather she didn’t go exploring.
“Seriously, Abigail,” I started. “You’re intelligent. You’re beautiful. You’re a successful businesswoman. Why do you let someone like Blair get to you?”
“She annoys me, is all.” Casual words said with shuttered eyes.
“That’s not it,” I said, frowning at her.
Abigail huffed. “Why do you care so much?”
“You’re the most secure, confident woman I’ve ever met. I just can’t believe that some woman takes a couple of jabs at you and you believe her.”
“Some woman? That’s your ex-girlfriend—excuse me, future sister-in-law.”
“See, you keep doing that, sweetheart. You keep going on the offensive—but it’s not going to work.”
Her eyes narrowed. Her hair was splayed all over the pillow, and it took all my self-control not to put my arm around her waist and pull her closer so I could feel the warmth of her body against mine.
“What, you’re going to psychoanalyze me?”
“Call me Dr. Rex. Now strip down and lie on your back so I can examine you.”
That got a laugh out of her. The tension in her face relaxed, and she took a deep breath. “I’m only telling you this so you’ll get off my case, all right?”
I nodded.
“My ex-husband Travis used to badger me about keeping house. He’d…” She hesitated, chewing that full bottom lip of hers. “He used to love reminding me about how bad I was at cooking and cleaning and being a perfect housewife.”
“And you’d tell him to pound sand?”
Abigail snorted. “I wish. I think…”
She didn’t finish her sentence for a long time, and I thought about those thick, high walls she kept around herself. Not knowing if she’d slap my hand away, I reached over and brushed a strand of her dark blond hair off her forehead.
She let out a shuddering breath and said, “We met when we were in high school, and I guess teenage insecurities lingered. Or maybe Travis got a claw in there early, and he knew how to hurt me. My parents got divorced when I was eleven, you know. And I guess I just didn’t cope with it well at all. From then on, I was always the troublemaker, the one who messed up, the one who was too impulsive and too brash and too loud. And Travis told me he loved that about me, but then…”
“But then he’d turn around and criticize you for the same thing?”
She met my gaze. “Exactly. It was fun to go joyriding when we were seventeen. It was great when a restaurant brought out the wrong thing, and he could send his personal attack dog to get them to remake his order. My personality was convenient sometimes, but mostly he knew exactly how to tear me down.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you divorced him.”
Abigail gave me a sad smile. “You have no idea the shit I endured for that. My mother thought I was crazy to divorce someone because he thought I should do more housework. Turns out she thought I should do more housework too. And yeah, he ended up cheating on me, so that’s what I told everyone was the reason we broke up. But the marriage was over long before that happened. It hurt, but it didn’t devastate me the way I expected. When I found out about the affairs, I was relieved. I told my mother that, and that’s when her opinion on the whole thing changed. Suddenly, I should fight for my marriage and learn how to keep a clean house.”
“It wasn’t really housework, though, was it? It was the fact that he kept trying to change you.”
Abigail stared at me for a long moment. “You know, I spent hours crying to my mom and Gabe. Hours, Rex. They never really got it. And you just listened to me for five minutes and understood. How do you do that?”
I thought about telling her that she’d become fascinating to me. That I’d spent the past few days watching her movements, her expressions, her tone of voice. Everything was a clue to discover what was going on inside her, to pick the locks to the doors she kept barred against the world.
Instead, I shrugged. “I can relate. Blair loved how I anticipated her needs. She relied on me so much during our relationship, told me I was the best guy she knew. But if I dared do the same for someone else, she’d act wounded and pout for days.”
“It’s like they like the idea of us, but not the reality.”
I hummed, nodding.
“Travis used to ask me to have dinner ready for him when he got home from work, even though half the time he got home first. It’s like he couldn’t process the fact that I also had a job. God, that used to annoy me. And if I did make the effort, he’d complain about my cooking!”
“I’ll never ask you to cook so long as we’re together.”
Abigail laughed. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“And don’t worry about Blair, Abigail. She has a special talent for finding people’s weaknesses and needling at them. All that shit today…”
“That was so annoying,” Abigail said, sitting up to aggressively fluff her pillow. “I don’t even know why that got to me.”
“Well,” I said, curling an arm around my back. “You were jealous. I get it.”
She grabbed the pillow she’d been fluffing and whacked me with it. “I don’t like this cocky side of you, Rex.”
I laughed, catching her arms before she could hammer me with her pillow again. “That’s a lie.”
Her cheeks were flushed. “I just want to get through this wedding and never speak to you again.”
“You wound me.”
“Good,” she replied, putting her pillow back. “And next time Blair starts telling me about your sexual prowess, I’ll just smile and nod and remember that this will be over soon.”
“Words every man wants to hear in the same sentence as his sexual prowess. ”
“So, what, that part of her spiel was true? You weren’t all over her in public, but you were incredible in bed? That seems convenient.”
Her eyes were dark and narrowed, her hair mussed. She looked unbelievably beautiful in the low light of the bedroom, with her silk camisole clinging to her curves.
She huffed, shaking her head. “You know what, forget I said anything. It’s all this talk about Travis.” She punched her pillow again in some odd attempt to flatten it so she could fluff it some more. “His ghost lingers. The ghost of divorces past. She could tell that he’s still haunting this house, that’s why she said all that stuff about you. I hate that she could tell. I hate that I was so easy to read! ‘Does he still do that thing with his tongue?’ she asks. God!” She met my gaze, but she was so deep in her rant that she didn’t stop until she said, “Travis was so damn selfish he never once went down on me. ‘That thing you did with your tongue.’ I don’t even know what that means!”
The words exploded out of her. Then her mouth clamped shut, and I propped myself up onto my elbow again.
Pointing a finger at me, Abigail said, “Erase the last thirty seconds from your brain.”
“No can do,” I said, shaking my head.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her ranting and aggressive fluffing had rucked up her shirt so I could see a strip of skin below her navel. One strap had fallen off her shoulder, exposing an expanse of chest that I definitely shouldn’t have been seeing.
I could have backed down. I could have turned away.
But I didn’t.
“Come here,” I said, and reached for her.