Chapter Seven
Abby had scribbled more than a page of notes when the server delivered the second pitcher of margaritas. She hadn’t eaten since lunch, which explained the mild alcohol buzz. She grabbed another breadstick, pushing aside the pang of guilt from the additional carbs.
“When will Connor and Jace finish laying the floor?” Maddy asked.
“They should finish tomorrow,” Jenna said. “Connor mentioned there’s other work, like hanging light fixtures and assembling furniture, so I’d say two days max.”
“Let’s not forget the back area. It’s a disorganized mess,” Natalie piped up.
“We can help. You need an area for inventory, plus somewhere to store supplies used to make your products,” Emma said.
“I’d also suggest an area to ship orders,” Maddy added.
“Ship orders?” Abby asked. “Won’t they be coming into the store to make their purchases?”
“Sure, in the beginning. What happens after summer is over and people from out of town return home?” Emma said.
“You want customers to keep buying your products even if they can’t physically get to your store,” Maddy added.
Abby had learned product marketing in college and should have thought about this, but she’d focused on getting the storefront open and hadn’t considered offering options such as online purchases. Truth be told, there were so many things to think about as a business owner, it was easy to get overwhelmed.
“We created a website,” Abby said. “But it needs help.”
Maddy reached for Emma’s laptop, brought up the site, and cringed. “I can work on this. I helped refresh the Erickson Pier website and can get an online store set up for you.”
“There’s a lot we haven’t worked out yet,” Natalie said.
“No worries. That’s why we’re here.” Emma said.
“Why?” Abby asked before she could stop herself. “I was a bitch to you when I first moved back. I organized the protest to stop the Erickson Pier expansion. Why would you want to help me?”
“You raised valid points about the expansion,” Emma said. “And with help from Jace, Connor, and their dad, we found a better way to handle the expansion than taking up beach space.”
“But still…” Abby said.
Emma touched her forearm. “Really, Abby. No harm done. I promise. I consider you a friend and want to help.”
The other ladies at the table all voiced their agreement.
Abby was touched at the ease with which they could forgive and forget.
“I can’t tell you how much this means. I’m not good at asking for help,” Abby said.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her,” Natalie added.
“Why don’t we come over tomorrow and see what needs to be done? It may seem overwhelming now, but it won’t seem as bad with a few extra hands,” Jenna said.
Although Abby wasn’t as convinced, she nodded and let her friends refill her margarita glass. She needed to eat before all the alcohol went to her brain. Thankfully, her shop and apartment were a half a block down the boardwalk, and she could stumble home.
“What do you say we order food?” Abby said.
“Did someone say food?” Connor said, followed by a group of guys, including Jason and Tyler, all carrying pizza pies, and Evan carrying a tray of shots.
“I win,” Emma said after a glance at her watch.
Abby wrinkled her brow. “Win what?”
Maddy groaned. “We had a bet on how long it would take for these clowns to crash our party.” She dug in her purse and handed Emma a five-dollar bill. “I lost.”
“At least they came bearing food,” Jenna said.
“And drinks,” Evan added. “All right, ladies, listen up. There’s a special cocktail for each of you. Each of us will choose one, and you have to drink it, no questions asked.”
Abby rolled her eyes. Someone was a little too enthusiastic about this game.
“I’ll go first,” Evan said. He selected a yellow shot and set it down in front of Jenna. “A flaming lemon drop for you, Jen.”
She shrugged and tossed it back. “Mmm, that was good.”
Evan passed the tray to Jason, who picked up a glass with a creamy-colored concoction. “A buttery nipple for you,” he said, setting it in front of Emma.
Emma flushed and, after taking a tentative sip, downed the contents.
Tyler went next. After deliberating, he chose the darker-colored liquor and set it down in front of Maddy. “Alice in Wonderland seems appropriate.”
“It’s one of Dylan’s favorite stories,” Maddy said, and held Tyler’s gaze as she chugged it down.
Evan had grabbed someone from the bar, since there were an uneven number of guys to girls. “Ethan’s going to help us out.”
“Hi, ladies.” He scanned the table until landing on Natalie. He picked up the dark pink drink and handed it to her. “A Jolly Rancher, I believe.”
After she downed it, only one shot remained.
Connor picked it up and smelled it before placing it in front of Abby. “An orgasm for you, Abs.”
They all hooted and cheered her on as she picked up the creamy liquid. But their voices didn’t matter. Abby focused all her attention on the man who had straddled a chair and watched her with dark green eyes.
She licked her lips and ran her tongue around the rim of the shot glass, which caused the group to holler even louder, before swallowing it in one gulp.
Connor threw back his head and laughed.
The guys brought over more chairs, and they ate until Abby thought she’d burst.
Music played on the jukebox, and after they’d eaten their fill, Connor held out a hand to her. “Let’s dance.”
Abby wiggled her foot. “Maybe not a wise move between my ankle and the alcohol.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”
She placed her hand in his and let him lead her to the dance area, trying to control her racing heart. The song playing was a slow, heartfelt Adele tune, and swaying to it while in Connor’s arms transported her to a different time when they danced on the beach. Back then, they did whatever they wanted without worry or apologies.
They were different now…older…responsible.
All words Abby used to correlate with a boring and settled person.
But with the strength of Connor’s arms surrounding her as they swayed, thoughts of being settled weren’t even close to her mind. Memories of the past coursed through Abby, making her feel more like her teenage self than she had in years. Lighter, carefree, and a little reckless.
Perhaps it was the alcohol.
Or the man.
The rest of their friends joined them on the dance floor. Some, like Jason and Emma, danced and kissed. Others, like Evan and Jenna, moved with exaggerated turns and dips. Then there were Tyler and Maddy, who danced smoothly but with an awkwardness that made Abby wonder if they hated touching each other or were doing their best not to rip each other’s clothes off.
Abby would bet on the latter.
Connor hummed to the music when he danced. She remembered he loved music and had taught himself guitar after finding one in the trash. Now, the vibration of his voice against her ear was an aphrodisiac sensation spreading through her body.
“Do you still play the guitar?” she asked.
“I do. Helps mellow me when I’m not able to sleep.”
“You used to sleep half the day away,” she teased.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It was the drugs. Without them, I had to find ways of occupying my mind. Playing music helps.”
The more time Abby spent with Connor, the more she noticed the subtle ways he’d changed…matured. On the surface he looked the same, but now his eyes were clear and held a bit of sadness that had never been there before.
Perhaps she could take away some of the sadness. Tilting her head up, she pressed a light kiss to his lips.
Connor froze at the press of Abby’s lips against his. They were warm and soft…familiar and yet not.
The old Connor would have devoured her. Rather, he held her tight, inhaling her sweet floral scent, and wanting to cherish the feel and taste of her. Even though it had been almost a decade since they’d touched like this, all the old feelings came crashing back to him.
Teaching her to surf…bonfires on the beach…swimming in the moonlight…making love.
Endless hours of making love.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, he sipped from her lips, small nips meant to arouse and seduce. And from the way Abby was pressing against him, as though she were trying to climb into his body, she was both.
Wanting her was no surprise. Abby had always been his kryptonite. He’d been with his share of women after moving to Florida. They each were nice, but he’d hoped to find a spark…something special to make him want more than one night or a few weeks.
Feelings he’d never experienced with anyone except Abby.
Even after everything they’d been through, their chemistry hadn’t dimmed.
The enormity of it threatened to overwhelm him.
He broke away and whispered in her ear, “Let’s walk on the beach.”
She nodded, and he led her through the crowd, stopping so she could grab her bag and to let Jason know they were leaving.
Outside, he breathed in the warm air that held a hint of salt and dampness from the sea. He pulled Abby beside him and across the boardwalk until they descended the stairs, needing the feel of the cool sand on his feet.
Ever since rehab, he’d recognized the signs of when things overwhelmed him. In the past, he’d pop pills or smoke a joint to tamp it down. But he refused to give in to the temptation, even when the weight of everything seemed to press in on him.
“Slow down, Con. I can’t keep up with my ankle,” Abby said.
He slowed. “Sorry…I forgot.”
He kicked off his shoes at the bottom of the stairs and waited while Abby slid out of her sandals.
Taking her hand again, he headed to the water. At the edge, he dipped his feet in, welcoming the splash of water against his legs.
A warm hand touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” Abby asked.
“It was stuffy in there. Needed some fresh air.”
“You forget how well I know you. Tell me what’s got you freaking out.”
He should have known it would be impossible to hide anything from her.
Backing away from the water’s edge, he moved to where the sand was soft and sat, holding his hand up for her to join him.
She lowered herself beside him, raising the short length of her dress to an almost indecent length.
With her hand in his, he traced the pads of his fingers along the inside of her palm. “Being on Pelican Bay has brought back a lot of memories,” he began.
“Understandably.”
“Not all good memories.”
She nudged his shoulder. “I remember many good memories.”
A smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “I remember them, too. Mostly.” He turned to face her. “I spent our entire relationship high on something.”
“I did my fair share, too.”
“You didn’t crave it the way I did. It became a necessity to survive each day. Often needing it more than food…more than air.”
“There was a lot going on in your life with your family.”
He shook his head. “Jace went through the same shit. He didn’t screw up his life like I did.”
She moved closer and covered both his hands with hers. “You didn’t screw up your life.”
He snorted. “I came pretty damn close.”
“Close doesn’t matter. You’re good now, right?”
He met her gaze. “I’ve been in recovery for eight years, nine months, and five days.”
“You got the help you needed. That’s what matters.”
He mostly agreed with her, but sometimes it didn’t seem to matter at all. Like now. Facing his past and his lack of responsibility was an important part of dealing with the addiction and stopping himself from getting bogged down in self-doubt and negative thoughts.
“I’m sorry, Abby.”
She stiffened, getting his meaning without him needing to speak the words. But therapy had taught him saying the words was part of owning up to your mistakes and healing.
“I’m sorry about the baby…about our baby.”
Abby snatched her hands away and played with the hem of her dress. “Let’s not do this.”
“Not talk about it? Why not?”
“Because I’ve put it behind me.”
“Really? Because I sure as hell haven’t.”
He’d unlocked the lid to Pandora’s box, and it was time to open it all the way.
“You shocked the hell out of me when you called to tell me you were pregnant.”
“We weren’t always careful.”
“No, we weren’t. And that’s on me.”
“It’s on both of us.”
He remembered the spontaneity of sex with Abby. She’d been adventurous, willing to try every crazy place and position he suggested. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and condoms cost money he didn’t always have.
“After the initial shock, I was happy. Freaked out because we lived a thousand plus miles away from each other, but happy because I loved you and the idea of starting a family with you.”
“You said you would come back to Pelican Bay when you saved enough money,” she said.
“And I meant it. Then I started thinking about what kind of father I’d be. Would I be an alcoholic and drug user like my dad? I already was more than halfway there with drugs. How would I support you and a child?”
“I never thought you’d be a bad father.”
“I appreciate that. Worrying about it freaked me out, and I fell, Abby. Hard. I connected with some people in Tampa…bad people. I sold and used drugs. Experimented with hard stuff—cocaine—and landed in the hospital. I was forced into rehab for a couple of weeks. When I was released, I tried to stay clean. After a week, I fell into my old habits, and my mom and uncle put me back into rehab for forty-five days.”
Connor wasn’t ready to share the details of detoxing—the shaking…the tantrums…the nightmares…begging for a hit. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he’d gotten through it.
“That’s where I was the time I called you.” He gulped in a breath of air. “When you told me you had the miscarriage.”
Until now, she’d held her composure, but he felt her tremble as tears trickled down her face.
“I’d gotten up in the middle of the night with cramps. When I went to use the bathroom, I saw the blood. I woke my mom to take me to the hospital, but it was too late.” She hugged her sides and rocked back and forth.
He pulled her onto his lap, holding her as they both cried for the life they’d unknowingly created that had never gotten a chance.
“I’m sorry it happened…That I wasn’t there for you.”
“I know you are.” She sniffled. “I saw how you were yesterday with Dylan. You were great with her.”
“It was hard at first because I’ve often wondered if we would have had a boy or a girl. But it was easy to be comfortable with Dyl. I see a different world through her eyes. A world with wonder and possibilities.”
“The way life should be at her age.” She paused for a beat. “You’ll be a good dad, Con.”
“I hope to be one day.” He hesitated before he asked the next question for fear of the answer. “Are you able to get pregnant again?”
She nodded. “The doctors told me the fetus wasn’t viable, which is why my body rejected it. I can conceive again, and there’s no reason to think I’d be at a higher risk to miscarry.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m glad.” He wiped away her tears. “So glad.”
The half-moon offered faint light, and his lips met hers in a tender kiss.
“I know this was hard to talk about, but it’s been on my mind since coming back,” he said.
“Mine too. So, what do we do now?”
“What do you want to do? Can we move beyond the past?”
“I think we just did.” She turned and straddled him. “What do you say to a redo?”