Crossing Abby Road (11 page)

I pushed off the rock and stood, needing to cool off before I did something impulsive. Kissing Abby would be completely awesome. Completely. Awesome. But from the way simply looking at her made me feel reckless and parched and like a love-starved teenager, I also knew one kiss wouldn’t be enough.

Today wouldn’t be enough.

I waded a few steps into the water, away from her, soothed by the cool sand under my feet, the pull of the undertow. “This is perfect water to swim in,” I said, retreating to boring but safe small talk. “Especially if you don’t like high surf.”

Way to charm her, Camford. Can’t wait for you to circle back to discuss Danish dolphin statues
. I crossed my arms tightly and stared out at the blue water.

Even if Abby happened to not be here for just today, she lived in Malibu, or that was where her house was. She couldn’t give me all of what I wanted, and no matter what my “second brain” needed, I wasn’t about to start something I couldn’t finish.

Plus, no matter how hard I tried to trick myself into thinking she was just a regular girl…she wasn’t.

Being with someone like Abby would be the epitome of drama.

I heard her stand, but before I could turn all the way around to where she was, she was coming straight toward me at an urgent clip. My heart banged in my chest, ready to catch her in my arms. To hell with smart decisions.

But she ran right past me, straight into the waves.

“Abby,” I said, as she breezed by, a look of focused determination on her face, like when we’d been outside Modica’s. “Abby, no, wait—”

It was too late—she dove in.

I’d been a resident of coastal Florida for only six months, but even I knew to consult the flags before swimming. They were all red. Which meant dangerous wildlife—PC talk for sharks.

Ice filled my veins.

Abby’s head broke the surface for a quick second, then disappeared under the ripples. She was fifteen feet from shore already, past the breakers. She must’ve swum underwater all that way—those were some powerful lungs.

I counted the beats in my head, waiting for her to come up. Ten…fifteen…twenty. She still hadn’t resurfaced. Where the hell was she?

I didn’t stop to think, but took my own running steps deeper into the water. Just as I was about to dive in, her bare feet broke through—on her way back under—then her light hair, yellow shirt. I pushed out the breath I’d been holding and paced back. She broke surface again, close enough to shore that I heard her inhale. Then I watched as she caught a wave and body surfed the rest of the way in.

She was laughing and panting for breath, her eyes bright, her face beaming under the sun. She spilled across the shore at my feet, her blond hair tangled and wet, clothes stuck to her body. She was the sexiest mermaid I’d ever seen.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, still catching her breath. “Afraid of the water?”

“Today, yes,” I said, and blew out a slow exhale. “There’s a level red. See those flags up all the poles?”

I barely got the words out before Abby’s eyes flew wide open and she was scurrying out of the water, nearly tripping over me in the process. “I always check the shark flags,” she said, panting harder. “But I didn’t even notice them. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I followed her to the shore, making sure she really was all right. “I did, I
tried
, but you kept running, and you dove in and were already out there before I could stop you. And then you dove under again and didn’t come up, and for a second I thought…” My throat suddenly got tight and it hurt to speak.

Leftover adrenaline made my arms feel both shaky and like they were full of lead, while my heart pounded so hard it was almost painful. Until today, I’d never been a worst-case scenario kind of guy. Being around Abby was changing something in me, while also reminding me of what was important in my life. What I loved, but also what I wasn’t willing to give up.

I pushed off the baseball cap and raked both hands through my hair, slamming my eyes shut to block out the picture crowding my vision: night terrors blended with impending work stress and worry for Abby. If anything had happened to her. Anything…

“I was about to go in after you,” I said, finishing the thought in my head.

“But…there’re sharks out there. You would’ve done that for me?”

Her question seemed genuine, as if she wouldn’t have expected someone to help. To save her. She probably had a tour bus full of professional security, but did she have anyone who was actually looking out for her? Someone who loved her?

Was that what Hal had been trying to tell me? Abby needed a friend, someone real to care for her and protect her and…would I have dived in shark infested waters and dragged her back by my teeth?

“Abby,” I said, making sure she met my eyes. “In a heartbeat.”

Her arms flew around me, an action almost as speedy as when she’d jumped into the water. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Could she feel how hard my heart pounded against her? She was soaked to the skin, but she was warm and her arms were tight, gripping me. She felt so good, so soft and strong, but she was trembling—scared or unsure or…happy. I was happy, too, confused and shocked but screaming-ass happy. And I hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve it.

Her chin was tucked, resting on my chest, under my chin, just like earlier today. But this was way better, because she’d pounced first. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her, securing her against my chest, feeling her heartbeats, hearing her labored breathing from her swim, or from me, I didn’t know which.

I dipped my chin to fill the space between my face and her neck, like I couldn’t do when I’d been holding her before. I felt the moment she exhaled, sinking deeper into my arms, adjusting her body against mine.

I moved my hands, finding the bare skin of her shoulders. She was warm there, too. She was warm everywhere I touched. Water from the sea dripped from her hair, and my hands followed the stream down her spine, stopping at the curve of her lower back.

Extreme nervousness at the thought of kissing her dried up my mouth, set free a flock of flapping seagulls in my stomach.
The perfect kind of nervousness
.

From out of nowhere, something Hal had said came to mind, about giving Abby a good day. Yeah, I was about to do just that. But then another meaning to his words popped out. Give her a good day.

One day. Singular.

Abby shifted against me, one of her hands skimming across the back of my neck. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. Pushed every bit of oxygen out of my lungs. Then counted to twenty. Backwards. In Italian.

If I kissed her now, one of two things would happen. We’d either get naked right here on the beach and probably get arrested, or I’d somehow manage to get us up the hill to my house, and then we’d get naked.

But kissing her once, then letting her go. That…wasn’t possible. I couldn’t kiss her then go back to my ordinary life. I wasn’t Superman.

If I was, though, the girl in my arms was more lethal to me than kryptonite.

I thought about my sisters, my mother, even Sophie. And then I thought long and hard about baseball.

“Sorry,” I said, dropping my arms and stepping back. Her chin was lifted and she blinked up at me, water clinging to her lashes. She looked…shoot me now…sexy as hell. And equally baffled. I laughed quietly and shook my head, feeling baffled, too. “Sorry,” I repeated, not knowing what else to say, or if I could manage to say more if I’d wanted to.

She took her own step back, which was when I noticed her yellow tank top was completely see-through, displaying extremely tempting cleavage and that very sexy purple bra. I knew I was staring, but my brain couldn’t make my eyes move. Finally, I coughed and turned my gaze toward the waves, sweat dotting my forehead that had nothing to do with the sun.

“It’s okay,” she said. I heard her return to the rock where we’d been sitting before. “And I’m sorry. I’m not normally like, um…” But her voice dropped.

Yeah, sweetheart, I’m not normally like, um, either.

“Have you ever seen a shark?”

“All the time when I’m diving,” I said.

When I turned to her, Abby was perched on a rock, knees pulled up, blocking the front of her body. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed, then I felt like a creeper for it. At least I wouldn’t be forced to keep myself from staring three inches below her chin.

“Sharks won’t hurt you unless you give them a reason,” I added. After pushing out a few more lung-fulls of air, I took a seat on the rock beside her.

“You’re brave.”

“Hardly.”

Abby fidgeted in her seat and was tugging at her wet hair. But why should she be embarrassed? I was the one who’d almost let her get eaten by sharks, then was too keyed up to even kiss her without the thought of taking it all the way to home base while not bothering to touch the other bases. All
she’d
done was given me the most mind-blowingly-hot hug in the known universe.

She had me rethinking so many things today, reevaluating pretty much my entire future. Did I want the pressure that would come with opening another store? Would that make me happy? Happier than finding those quiet moments she
’
d described earlier?

What I was contemplating now, even hypothetically, was ridiculous. But still…the thought wouldn’t leave my mind: What would happen if I didn’t expand my business?

“My favorite color’s brown,” she said.

What? Oh, hell. Had we been in the middle of a conversation and I hadn’t been paying attention?

“You know, ’cause it reminds me of dirt, and I like dirt—
love
dirt, always have, as long as I can remember.”

Her rambling made me laugh. Then it made me want to pull her onto my lap.

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh. I like to plant things, too, and water them, and watch them grow. Hands digging in the dirt, dirt between my fingers. That’s something I really miss about home. Arizona’s dry and dusty and dirty and…and…”

“Brown?” I inserted.

She laughed and pointed at me. “Exactly! I love wearing brown, too. It makes me feel protected and warm, so…yeah.”

Wow. She could be a talker. So different from the first few minutes we’d been face-to-face in my store this morning. And she was from Arizona? Another interesting factoid. But what did she need protection from? She was famous and rich and hot. The girl should have the world by the throat.

Again, I thought back to what Hal’d said, to show Abby a good time because she deserved it. Because she was only one girl and couldn’t do it all and needed to laugh ‘til she cried. As the full meaning of those words sank in, I didn’t know how it was possible, but my heart was drawn to her for a whole new list of reasons.

Abby sighed and looked out at the water, tugging at her bottom lip. She’d just talked a blue streak and I’d said nothing. What an ass. She’d been sharing, talking about herself like I’d asked her to, and what had I offered in return?

I could’ve replied with something meaningless, back to landscape or the weather. Or, I could take a risk and see what happened.

“Well,
I
heard your favorite color is pink. Read about it somewhere.” I paused and took in a deep breath. “Or should we continue with this charade of me not properly acknowledging who you are, Abigail Kelly?”

She flinched and a little frown arched her lips, but I couldn’t regret broaching the subject. My gut told me it was the right move, and I needed to trust that so I could trust other things my gut was yelling at me.

A few long moments passed before I saw the tenseness in her shoulders relax. “Yeah, okay,” she said in a quiet voice. “I don’t want to pretend with you, either.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

“So?” I leaned back. “Pink?”

She grinned, almost begrudgingly, and tucked some of her wet hair behind an ear. I felt myself relaxing, too. The girl made me feel so many things with just one smile.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” she asked. “You might lose all respect for me.”

Like that was remotely possible. But since I didn’t want things to get weird again, I went for sweet talk. “Um, I think we’re way past that, Abby.” I shot a pointed glance at the front of her wet clothes. “But I gotta say, thanks for the very nice view. Made my day.”

Abby yelped and pulled at her clinging yellow shirt, shaking it out. No more view of the purple bra. Well, damn. Though I was pretty sure the image was sufficiently burned on my brain.

“Pink,” I prompted, making sure to look only in her eyes.

Much to my surprise, Abby went on to do a full-on presentation about the color pink, which turned into some kind of TV commercial for a perfume she’d endorsed. She was so entertaining. It was glaringly evident when people talk about how celebrities possess that X factor, that something extra that shoots them—and not the other guy—into the stratosphere. Whatever was missing in regular humans, Abby had it.

“But I still have to tell reporters that pink is my favorite color over brown,” she said. “It’s in my contract.”

“That’s interesting,” I replied, but my attention was unfortunately pulled.

Right behind Abby’s shoulder, thirty feet away, was Chandler’s older sister with her two small daughters. I hadn’t seen Connie in a few weeks, but Chandler talked about her pretty often. She’d just gotten divorced, husband sounded like a prick, and now she was struggling to set up an oversized sun umbrella all by herself. I’d be a prick, too, if I let her struggle alone.

“I’m gonna give her a hand, be right back,” I said to Abby, jumping to my feet and hustling over to the little beach set up. “Connie, hey.”