Chapter 8 Mark
Brewster hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d help. As I stared out at the ambience he’d suggested, there was no doubt about it—Brew’s idea was so much better than mine. I still couldn’t believe how fast we did everything with Austin’s help.
“I don’t think you need more than this. I’ll go make sure the ladies are all entertained.” Austin smiled, wagging his brows. I wasn’t stupid. Austin was a good-looking guy who oozed charm. Charm I sure didn’t have. Yet, somehow, Abby had looked at me and found me interesting for some reason.
Grateful doesn’t begin to cut it.
I wasn’t going to waste a moment overthinking it or try to talk myself out of pursuing her.
It would be stupid to waste a moment. When you know, you know, my mom used to tell me and my brothers.
It had been a long time since I’d thought of her words.
The way she used to say them and the way my dad would look at her like she was the only one who existed when she said them.
But now?
Shit, now I knew.
“Good luck, man.” Brewster patted my shoulder. “I’ll tell your girl to meet you out here.” He winked and then followed Austin back inside.
I looked out at the roaring fire Brew had helped me get going.
The firepit overlooked a line of huge trees that surrounded his property.
I turned to look at the couch almost overflowing with pillows and plush throw blankets Brewster said Tab liked using when they hung out outside.
Not only that, but he had brought out some LED candles that flickered like they were real and had set them on the side tables.
I had to admit it looked cozy. Inviting.
Two wine glasses sat empty on the side table with a bottle next to a plate that held a variety of slices of pie because I didn’t know what she liked.
Next year, I would. I’d know all her favorites because I would make it my mission in life to get to know everything I possibly could about Abby.
My eyes dropped to the wine again, and I scratched the back of my neck, wondering if I should have grabbed coffee instead.
Shit. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to get her drunk.
“Mark?” her voice called out. When I looked behind me, time stood still.
She stood at the end of the patio scanning to the setup I had waiting for her.
I watched as she soaked it in. I didn’t know how I knew, but there wasn’t a detail she missed.
I walked over, willing my body to slow the fuck down and not run towards her and toss her over my shoulder like some kind of caveman.
I didn’t want to overwhelm and pounce on her, but I didn’t want to play it too cool, either, where my intentions weren’t crystal clear to her.
“You did this?” she asked, her eyes on the fire and then back on me. “All of this?”
“I had some help.” I shrugged.
“For me?” she asked, so softly I almost wondered if I’d imagined the words. Her hazel eyes sparkled up at me, glassy with emotion.
“For you,” I confirmed and watched her thorat work up and down. I’d had enough with space.
Having almost kissed her twice and being interrupted both times drove me crazy.
I wanted nothing more than to taste her lips, feel them dance with mine.
I closed the distance between us, but for some damn reason, I held off.
I didn’t kiss her like everything in my body was yelling at me to do.
Not when there were so many people just a few feet away from us inside the cabin.
Hell, I had a feeling if I tore my eyes away from Abby and looked at the windows, there would be at least three people standing there watching.
So, I reached for her hand instead. Ecstatic that she let me, I tangled our fingers together.
It shocked me just how well they fit, like two pieces of a puzzle coming together.
“Here.” I led her to the couch, and she sat down, bringing a throw blanket over her legs.
“I love these kinds of blankets.” She sighed happily as I took the seat next to her.
“They’re so soft.” She stroked the material.
I touched it; the material was soft as hell.
I made a mental note to order one for her first thing tomorrow morning.
That way, I’d have something at my place for when she came over.
“What’s that look mean?” she asked, her hazel eyes curious.
I swallowed, unsure of how to answer. To buy me some time, I settled in next to her, carefully wrapping one arm around the back of the couch behind her and leaning in close enough to smell the soft almost cinnamon scent that seemed to cling to her to gain a few moments to get my words just right.
“It means that this night just got a lot more interesting.” Her brow rose, and she leaned in closer, her hand covering the top of mine.
“Because of the kind of throw blanket I like?”
“Because…” I hesitated and sighed. Fuck it.
I’d never known any other way than to be completely honest. “It’s because when you mentioned liking that blanket, my first instinct was to make sure to order something like it so when you come over, I had you covered.
” Her breath hitched, and my cock liked the sound of it.
I leaned closer. “This is probably too much, too fast, but you feel this. I feel this.”
“Mark—“
“Even the way you say my name, the way it sounds coming out of your mouth,” I groaned as my forehead touched hers. “You have any idea how much I want to kiss you?”
“You do?” The surprise in her voice wasn’t what got to me; it was the hint of innocence. I stared at her again. She had an innocence about her that made me look at her deeper and deeper as I tried to figure out how old she was.
“There’s that look again,” she whispered, her voice a little thicker as those honeyed eyes dropped to my lips. “How old are you?” she asked, and I blinked.
Fuck. What if I was too old for her?
What if she was too young for me? I knew she was over eighteen but… “I’m forty-one,” I announced, feeling like I was on pins and needles for the whole second it took her to process what I’d said.
“Forty-one,” she repeated and then, to my surprise, giggled. Fucking giggled.
“Something funny, little girl?” I asked quietly, daring myself not to fucking blink. She shook her head.
“I’m twenty-eight.”
“You are?” I asked, thankful as hell. Thirteen years between us. Was that too much for her?
“I am. How old did you think I was?”
“I’m not sure. I just know…” I swallowed hard. “A man my age shouldn’t be sitting this close to you and sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking the things I’m thinking.”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up instead of being alarmed.
Jesus, my girl didn’t seem to have an ounce of self-perseverance.
“Lucky for us… you’re not just any man, are you?
” If Abby thought there would be any kind of chance of her escaping from my clutches, my claim, she’d just sealed her fate with those little words.
“I’m not?” I asked as I stared at her for a moment too long.
“You’re a principal. You’re all about doing the right thing, no?” She reminded me of what I did, but, Jesus Christ, between the way my cock throbbed and my hands ached to hold her, I couldn’t focus. “And you punish those who don’t listen?”
“Abby,” I warned, but her laughter sounded like a bell around me. Punish those who didn’t listen. Fuck, did Abby have a bratty side that needed to get straightened out? I shifted on the patio furniture trying to subtly adjust my hard cock.
“What?” she asked innocently, but it was that bright gleam of interest in her eyes that gave her away. “I’m just playing with you.” She winked confidently. My hand rose from behind her and cupped her face. She stilled.
“I’d reprimand you if needed. Take… disciplinary action to straighten out the issue and hope you learned from it in the future.
” I had no idea why the fuck I was goading this fucking subject.
Roleplay had never been my thing, but I had feeling that was about to change.
Shit. I should have been asking her about her favorite color and food, not threatening to bend her over my desk and teach her a lesson she’d beg me to teach for the rest of our lives.
“Reprimand,” she repeated, rolling those pretty, full lips against one another.
They were painted a pretty, brownish-orange shade I wanted to kiss right off.
“Too bad I never have to reprimand anyone at my job.” She laughed nervously, and just like that, the subject changed.
I stroked her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever had to deal with at work?” She scooted closer before lifting the blanket and letting the end of it drape over my leg.
“That’s easy.” She smiled brightly while sharing all about a corporate retreat where she found the HR director and the CEO of the company in a storage closet in a very compromising position.
“It was…” She made a face, and I chuckled.
“What was the most stressful?” The light in her eyes slightly dimmed.
“This summer, we had a wedding that was supposed to take place by the lake. Everything was going great. The planning had been… seamless. Looking back, I should have realized it was too easy. I mean, it was the easiest wedding I’ve ever helped put together.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I know,” she huffed, leaning into my hand as I stroked the apple of her cheek.
“That should have been my first clue something bad was going to happen. At the rehearsal, things were a little off, but nothing horrible, you know? Just… tense. Between the groom and the best man. Then the bride was… I don’t know, she was a little melancholic, but I chalked it up to cold feet. ”
“Shit.”
“The day of the wedding, the ceremony is about to start when suddenly, no one can find the groom. I mean nowhere, Mark. We looked for him everywhere at the resort.”
“Shit.”