41. Rex
FORTY-ONE
REX
My heart was pounding as I rang her doorbell standing in the glow of Abigail’s porch light. The paper grocery bag in my hand crinkled, and the autumn-colored bouquet in the other let off a sweet perfume.
It had been a long day. I’d been distracted, thinking of her. Thinking of this moment right here, when I finally got to see her again.
I still couldn’t quite believe that she’d invited me over, that she actually wanted to see me.
Seconds ticked. I checked the window, but Winston was a no-show. I knocked again. My palms were sweaty against the paper grocery bag and against the plastic bouquet wrap. Had she changed her mind?
Then the door wrenched open. Abigail stood on the other side, her head surrounded by a halo of flyaways, her white T-shirt splashed with countless tomato sauce stains. She looked harried, her eyes wide and worried .
I couldn’t help my smile. Abigail looked perfect, as always.
“You came,” she said, then gulped. This wasn’t the arms-open reunion that I’d hoped it would be—but I was willing to fight for what I wanted. She moved away from the door. “Come in.” The moment my feet hit her wood floors, my shoulders dropped and a wash of peace went over me. I closed the door behind me.
“I brought you these. The colors reminded me of your tree,” I added a little lamely, dipping my head toward the oak tree Winston had used as a refuge.
Abigail smiled, but it looked a little forced. Was she regretting inviting me over? Had I misread things, and the flowers were presumptuous?
“Is everything okay?” I asked, ready to rip the Band-Aid off. If she didn’t want me here, I’d rather hear it now, even though everything in me rebelled at the thought of leaving.
Abigail let out a long sigh and let me in. She pointed over her shoulder at the kitchen. “It’s just that the dish I made is…inedible.” Her head dropped, throat bobbing as she swallowed. “I wanted to do something nice. I wanted this to be an olive branch, but I—I messed up.”
We both heard her unsaid word: again .
The thumping of my heart became violent. Here was a beautiful, courageous woman, putting herself out on the line for me. Thinking of me. Putting in the effort for me.
I reached out, lifted her chin, and looked into those big, beautiful brown eyes. “That’s really sweet, Abigail.”
Her cheeks went pink, and she bit her lip. “It would’ve been if I’d remembered to set the kitchen timer. And I stained my shirt. I’m a scrappy mess, Rex.”
I glanced at the smeared tomato on her shirt, which did nothing to smear her natural radiance, and I grinned. “I happen to like it when you’re scrappy. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Rex,” she chided. Her soft brows perked up as her voice softened. Her cheeks flushed for a moment before she took a breath and looked away. “Well, unless you have dinner in that paper bag, we won’t eat tonight.”
“Oh, in this bag?” I said. “We could call it dinner.”
“Is it wine?” she asked. “Because I’ve already opened a bottle.”
“It’s stovetop popcorn with all the fixins.” I let her peek into the brown paper bag.
That’s when it all changed. Abigail looked from the grocery bag to me, and her eyes shone like tears were coming. “You brought me flowers and popcorn?”
“None of that microwave garbage,” I added.
She gulped. “You did say you were going to show me how to make it on the stove.”
“See? I keep my promises.”
Her chin wobbled. “And you’d be okay with eating popcorn for dinner?”
“Abigail. I would eat rocks for dinner if it meant I could eat them with you.” I took a deep breath, ready to proclaim my love for her over and over—then I felt something warm swirl around my leg. It was Winston snuggling up to me.
I bent down and scratched behind his ears. He leaned into my hands until I hit the spot by his whiskers. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like he was smiling. “When you said he missed me, I thought that was code for you, but I’m starting to think you were telling the truth. He’s never been this friendly.”
“I think it’s his way of saying, ‘Thank you for getting me out of that tree,’” Abigail said.
“Any time, Winston,” I said and stood back up. “So, should we get this popcorn started?”
Abigail’s brows drew together, her gaze incisive. “You really don’t mind?”
I set the bag down and moved closer. Abigail softened when I ran my hands down her arms and tangled my fingers with hers. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t throw me out and tell me to never see her again.
Hope sprang to life in my chest.
“Abigail, I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t cook a meal for me for the rest of your life. I’m not here for the food. I’m here because I’m miserable without you. I’m here to make up for what I did. I’m here to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness, to beg you to let us start again.” I knelt down, keeping my gaze fixed on hers, praying, and hoping, and wishing she’d let me beg.
“Rex—”
“Let me finish.” I brought her hand up to my lips and kissed her sweet skin. “Abigail, I’ve been in love with you for so long. I don’t even know when it started. It took root inside me and grew and grew and grew. All I know is that at some point, I found myself at Sullivan’s every day for lunch, not to see Gabe, but to catch a glimpse of you. I looked forward to hearing your laugh. Your smile. The light in your eyes when you were about to close another sale. Those small moments in the periphery of your life were enough, until they weren’t anymore. Until I started dreaming of something more. I just never thought I’d be good enough for you, Abigail?—”
“Rex, come on. Be real.”
“I am. How could I be good enough when you’re everything? Driven. Funny. Beautiful. Spontaneous. Brave. I could go on and on.”
She squeezed my hand in hers. “Well, don’t stop now.”
I laughed, rose to my feet, and hooked an arm around her waist. As I pulled her closer, my pulse settled. The weight of her against me was so right. The feel of her warmth all down my front felt like coming home. The way she wrapped her arms around my neck felt like the only place I wanted to be.
“I’m crazy about you, Abigail. And this stupid wedding scheme only made me fall for you more. You’re everything I wish I was.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous. Rex Montgomery, the pillar of the community, wishes he were more like the town screwup?”
“You’re not a screwup. You’re incredible. Now everyone who sees that billboard will know it.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “And if anyone says otherwise, they’re getting a knuckle sandwich, Rex-style.”
She laughed, then snorted, then laughed harder. “I can’t believe this is real.”
“It is real. No more faking it.”
That made her lift her head. Her eyes were liquid, and something like hope and fear and hurt swirled in them. And I realized something new about Abigail. She’d been let down and abandoned by so many people. Myself included. I’d let her down every time I didn’t show her off like I was proud of her. Every time I denied her, or chose her brother.
Never again.
“I’m sorry, Abigail,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t give you what you needed.”
“What I needed?”
“Someone who’s in your corner, always, no matter what. Someone who sees how amazing you are and lifts you up any time you start doubting yourself. Someone who loves you unconditionally, day in and day out, rain or shine, no questions asked.”
She snorted. “I want to believe it, Rex. But life isn’t a fairytale.”
“And I’m no prince. I’m going to make mistakes. I already have. But I’ll keep showing up. And I’ll keep loving you—if you’ll let me.”
A tear spilled down her cheek. “I don’t deserve someone as good and selfless and responsible as you. I’ll ruin you, Rex. I ruin everything.”
I nudged her with my nose. “How can you ruin things when you always make everything better?”
She gulped. A breath trembled through her lips. “I’m scared.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Every time I’ve trusted someone to care about me like this, it’s blown up in my face. I’m afraid to believe it. Afraid to want this so badly and have it taken away from me.”
I squeezed her close, heart aching. Inhaling the scent of her hair, I pressed a kiss to her temple and wondered how I could make her understand that I wasn’t running from her, ever.
Pulling away, I stroked Abigail’s cheeks with my thumbs and said the only thing I could. “I love you. I love you so much that these past few days have felt like a part of me died. Like my heart couldn’t beat quite right, like it might not find its rhythm ever again. I love all the things that make you reckless and impulsive and brave and spontaneous. I love that you prefer takeout over cooking, because so do I. After I took care of your standing order at Lotus Flower, I started one for myself at Famous Sal’s Fried Chicken.”
She laughed, the fear fading from her eyes. “If we’re going to be together, then I’m going to need to sell a lot of houses for this takeout budget.”
I pulled her closer, hands splaying on either side of her lower back. “Does that mean we’re going to be together? You and me?”
She swallowed something back. “Did you really mean everything you said?”
“Every word. I love you so much I can’t imagine a future without you in it. It’s you. It’s always been you.”
She let in a soft breath, ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck, and pulled me closer. “Kiss me, Rex,” she whispered—and they were the best three words I’d ever heard.
Well, they were the second best. The best three came a moment later, when she mumbled against my lips, “I love you.”
I groaned, tension leaving me in a rush, and then I picked her up and walked until my knees hit the couch. Then I laid her down across the cushions and took a second to look at her blond hair splayed over the fabric, her dirty T-shirt, her ripped jeans.
“I love you too,” I told her. “Love everything about you. The good, the bad, and the reckless. ”
She smiled and toyed with the fly of her jeans. “I’m feeling a little reckless right now,” she admitted.
My own hands reached for my pants. “Oh?”
“Maybe I need a few rules to keep me in line.” She bit her bottom lip and looked at me with those big brown eyes, and I knew I hadn’t spoken a lie: it was her, or no one. And I’d do everything in my power to make sure that it would be her from now until the end of time.
“Rule number one,” I said, “You say my name when you come, and don’t you dare muffle it in the pillows…”
A while later, we finally made it to the kitchen. Abigail was in her tomato-sauce-stained shirt and that purple thong that had made my imagination run wild last week. Since she was bottomless, I remained bare-chested and slid on my pants.
I set the popcorn supplies down on the counter and tugged Abigail closer, crushing a kiss to her lips before I got to work. “Okay, I know where the pans are, but where are the lids?”
She tucked her hands under her armpits and shrugged. The movement made her shirt ride up, which made me glance at that thong again. My woman was sexy as hell. “I don’t think I have any,” she said.
Of course. Microwave popcorn was a staple in her house. I couldn’t expect her to have pan lids. I rubbed my hands together. “Well, then, we’ll have to make do.”
“While you’re doing that, I’ll pour us a glass of wine,” she said and trotted off to fetch a couple of glasses. I lit the gas stove and coated a pan in lots of oil, letting it heat up before adding the kernels .
She returned with two glasses of white wine and handed me one. “Cheers.” She clinked her glass to mine.
“Cheers.” We each sipped from our glasses, staring at one another. “What are we toasting?” I asked.
“To balance.”
“Balance?” That wasn’t what I’d expected to come out of her mouth.
“I shouldn’t have reacted so harshly; I should’ve heard you out. You’ve been so understanding of me, and I could be more understanding of you. But…you can stop being such a good-guy pushover all the time and actually take care of yourself for once.”
“Harsh,” I said, chuckling. “But true.” I stepped closer to her, cupping her face in my hands. “Life would definitely be easier if I stood up for what I wanted.”
“Which is?”
I smiled. “You.”
I’d never get sick of kissing Abigail. Our kiss grew deeper and deeper and her fingertips slinked up my chest and she ran her nails softly down my back. I responded in kind and pressed myself against her. She let out a little moan as my hand slid up her thigh and teased the purple lace between her legs. Hell yeah.
Crackle, pop, crackle, pop, POP!
We broke our kiss and turned toward the stove. Smoke billowed from inside the hot pan and in a hot second, erupted in flames. Abigail jumped back with a yelp.
Shit! That’s what I got for leaving a hot pan unattended. Adrenaline dumped into my veins, and my focus sharpened. “Where’s the extinguisher? ”
Abigail’s voice was shrill. “I used it to hose down Blair, remember?”
“I need another pan,” I said, as Abigail screamed, “I got it!”
Her words made me glance over in time to see the sink sprayer in her hand, her index finger on the trigger.
“Abigail, no!” I reached for the sprayer, but it was too late. They say oil and water don’t mix, but when the oil is hot, water makes it explode. Which was exactly what happened.
Abigail screamed when the flames flared, the blaze reaching the cabinet above. “What do we do?” she yelled as the smoke detector blared outside of the kitchen.
“Call 9-1-1 and get Winston out of here.”
“But I’m in a thong!” she argued.
I waved her away. “Abigail, go!”
She ran out of the kitchen, and I prayed for her safety as I switched off the burner and searched for something, anything to dampen the flames. In the nick of time, I found a sheet pan and smothered the stove fire, then used the sprayer to contain the burning cabinet. By the time the fire truck arrived, the flames were gone.
“You all right, Rex?” one of my firefighter buddies called as he stormed into the kitchen.
Panting, I said, “Yeah, I think I got it. Where’s Abigail?”
“She’s out front.”
“Can you take it from here?” I asked.
He nodded, and I jetted off out front in nothing but my pants, my chest hair probably singed from the flames. Abigail stood on her front lawn with a blanket wrapped around her waist and the same look in her eyes she had when Winston was stuck in the tree .
“Are you okay? Where’s Winston?” I ran to her.
She trembled in my arms. “He’s fine. I put him in my car. What about the house? Is it bad?”
“The fire’s out, but the kitchen is pretty scorched,” I said, and she dropped her head into her hands.
“I always mess everything up,” she whispered, anguish dripping from every word.
I wrapped her in my arms. “Well, in your defense, I was the one who was cooking.”
The realization hit her so hard that her mournful expression turned almost righteous. “Oh, yeah. You were!” She looked back at the house, gaze turning thoughtful. “You did say you would make mistakes.”
“Yeah, but I meant more like leaving the toilet seat up, not almost burning your house down.” I felt a little sheepish myself until Abigail lifted up on her toes and kissed my cheek.
“It’s okay, Rex. Maybe it was time the place caught fire and burned.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you how I only kept this house to spite my ex. Maybe it’s time to move on.”
An idea struck. “Maybe we could move on together. Find somewhere with more…balance,” I said, smiling.
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s buy the Baker house.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“You and me. A fresh start. All that cabinet space for microwave popcorn, and it’s only three blocks from Lotus Flower.”
“Rex,” she said, laughing. “We can’t. ”
“Why not? You said you wanted to move on, and this feels right. For me. For you. For us.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “Whaddya say?”
Her smile softened as she considered the idea. “I think it’s crazy, which means I love it. And I love you, Rex Montgomery.”
“I love you, Abigail Stone.” I held her tight and kissed her again, knowing that this wasn’t just for real—it was forever.