Crossing Abby Road (7 page)

“Ohhh.” She nodded a few times. “I was wondering about the accent.”

“Mine? I thought it was pretty much faded.”

“No, I noticed it right away. Subtle, though, like you’re a mafia Don undercover as a surfer boy.” She puckered her lips and blew out a breath. “Gotta say, that’s pretty hot.”

“Yeah?” I arched an eyebrow, loving it a little too much that Abby thought I was hot. “Wanna hear what I’d make you for dessert? I have to roll my
R
s a lot.”

She laughed and shoved my arm. “There you go, making me all swoony again. I’ve never been to Sicily. I’d love to hear about it—” She cut herself off, and the flirty smile on her face faded as her eyes left me to stare forward. It was almost like the second half of her sentence was supposed to be “tomorrow” or “later.” And judging by the way that hadn’t made it out of her mouth, she definitely wasn’t going to be here tomorrow.

Damn, I hated that. I hated this. I hated how I met an incredibly cool girl, and though, yeah, it’d only been two hours, I was seriously digging her. And maybe it was delusional or my overly healthy ego, but I felt like she was into me, too.

But right now was all we had. This was it. And I knew damn well that way too soon, I’d be the one who had to leave. Even if I didn’t, she’d be gone tomorrow anyway.

I winced when I felt that knot in my stomach tie tighter.

We crossed 30A and I led us around the outskirts of the other shops instead of right across the middle of the courtyard. No reason to draw attention to her if we didn’t need to. I held open the door of my store. “After you. This’ll only take a second.”

“No hurry,” she said, smiling again.

Two customers were leaving, each carrying a large bag, and Chandler was behind the counter, still working on that pile of clothes from the new shipment. “What’s with the dang holdup, boss man? I’m starvin’ like Marvin!”

“Minor detour first,” I said, about to hand over his bag of food, do a quick check of the receipts, then get the hell out of there. The clock was ticking.

“Sorry, it was my fault.” Abby stepped out from behind me.

Not that I was worried Chandler would shriek at Abby like the girl at Modica’s, or that he’d start tearing off her clothes like she was Usher—

Tearing off her clothes.

No, that was my job.

I spun around, stopping Abby’s forward motion while also blocking Chandler’s view. “Are you sure you want him to see you here?” I said in a quiet rush, ready to haul ass out of there if she said the word. “I can just drop this off.” I lifted Chandler’s bag of food. “Just give me two seconds and we can leave. He doesn’t have to bother you.”

As she lifted up on her toes to glance over my shoulder, the expression in her eyes was that same sharp, steely look she’d had while psyching herself up to go into Modica’s. “I
hate
being afraid,” she whispered between her teeth, barely audible. “
Hate
it.”

I blinked and waited.

A second later, her steely eyes returned to me, and she leaned forward like she was about to skirt past me. The polite comfort-zone etiquette would be for me to move back to give her space. But I didn’t, challenging her instead, wondering if being this close to me was one of the things she was afraid of.

Her eyes pinned me in place, challenging me back. When she shifted toward me another inch, I was about to drop the food to free my hands so I could wrap my arms around her waist.

“Earlier, you
claimed
you’re safer than an armored car,” Abby said in a whisper, taking the bag out of my hand. “Let’s see that muscle now, big guy. Prove it.”

The girl kicked the breath out of me.

“Oh. You’re good,” I said, knowing she’d have to be made of stone to not feel the electricity shooting between us like live wires. “Hey, Chandler,” I called out behind me, “want you to meet someone—”

“Hold up.” The voice of my employee hit my spine and shook me awake. He’d come around to our side of the counter and was pointing at Abby. “Hey, you look exactly like—”

“Chandler!”
I barked.

He jumped and dropped the shorts he’d been holding, but at least he was looking at me and not gawking at Abby. I kept my eyes on his for a long moment, giving both of us time to focus and assess.

He wasn’t a bad guy by any stretch, but I wasn’t about to let him freak Abby out because he was addicted to YouTube. It was probably safer just to get it out in the open, proving my muscle or whatever.

“Chandler. This is Abby…okay?” I said, doing my best to stay calm and in control, though prepared to grab my employee in a sleeper hold. That wouldn’t be necessary, because Abby pushed past me and walked straight up to him.

“Hi,” she said brightly. “It’s very nice to meet you, Chandler. I’m Abby.” She extended her hand but Chandler was frozen. Starstruck. After a beat, Abby took his hand herself and gave it a few friendly pumps.

I stood back and watched, amazed to see her in action. She was completely poised and gracious, probably from years of meeting strangers who fell speechless around her. Funny, the same thing had happened to me this morning. But that was
before
I knew who she was.

“Uhh, nice to meet me, too,” Chandler said, his voice croaking. I closed my eyes and stifled a groan. “I mean, I love you,” he tried again. “I mean…umm, er, uh?”

Oh, buddy. He was losing it. He dropped her hand and backed into the counter. Abby turned to look at me, evident confusion on her face.

“Yeah, we don’t let him out much,” I explained.

She narrowed her eyes at me, playfully scolding, like we were in on a secret. “Don’t listen to him, Chandler,” she said, turning back to him, “and don’t worry about it. Here, we brought you lunch.”

Chandler was frozen again. Poor guy. I hoped I hadn’t looked as dumbstruck when I’d first realized who she was.

“Abigail Effing Kelly is bringing me lunch,” he finally said. Abby and I both flinched when he followed up this observation by busting out in hoots of laughter. “
Totally
off the
chain
! Wait’ll the guys hear this!” As he reached for his cell, Abby shot me a glance that needed no explanation.

Even though my instinct was to jet-propel across the room and lock him in a sleeper hold, I strolled over calmly. “Hey man, be a mate and don’t mention this to anyone,” I said, but he was practically panting now, and his eyes were wide like plates, trying to zero in on Abby behind me. I clamped both hands on his shoulders, squeezed, and looked him dead in the eyes. “This never happened,” I said, dropping my voice. “She was never here, you didn’t see anything.
Capiche
?”

Chandler knew I saved my Italian for when I wanted to make a statement. He might’ve acted like a dumb-ass sometimes, but I never lost my cool with him, and he never seemed to be genuinely afraid of me, like those kids from earlier who’d been about to harass Abby on the street.

Still, this couldn’t go any further, so I made sure Chandler was focused on me for a good few seconds before I nodded. He shot a quick glance toward Abby then back at me. Then he nodded, too. And we both exhaled.

“
Buono
,” I said, before removing my hands and stepping back. I leaned against the counter and sifted through the new receipts. “You sold the ruby longboard,” I added, thinking it was more productive to praise him rather than threaten him like Scarface. “That’s great work, man. Really solid. Congrats.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks,” Chandler said, running a shaky hand through his hair, his overly tanned face still all pale.

Hell, I hadn’t meant to scare him
that
much.

“Pretty hefty commission for you,” I continued. “Tell me about it. Who finally bought it?”

“It, um, it was that dude from Miami who came in last week,” he replied after letting out another huge breath. “He said he might want us to send him another. He left his card. Oh! New customer. I got it, boss, I got it, it’s all good.”

When Chandler dashed to the front of the store, I turned to check on Abby. She was back to looking normal again, so I leaned against the counter and hooked a thumb toward my chest. “Armored car, baby,” I said, reminding her of my promise, also seeing if it would make her smile.

It did.

Another point for Team Camford.

I checked the last receipt, and since everything seemed in order, it was time to leave. “Well, we’d better shove off,” I said, knowing Abby had been ready to eat since we left Modica’s. As she said good-bye to Chandler and walked to the door, I noticed that annoying gleam in Chandler’s eyes was back.

“Hey,”
I hissed through my teeth, breaking his ogle that was glued to her ass. Really, though, who could blame him? It was a supremely nice ass. “When you see your buddies later today, are you gonna tell them anything about what went on here?” I held him in place by the shoulders again. “Or who was here?”

“N-no,” he said.

“What if one of those cheerleaders comes in? Will you say one word? One tiny word?”

“Todd, no. Dude, I swear.”

I exhaled and dropped my hand. “
Grazie
.”

“Tell me, though.” He nodded toward the front door where I could see Abby waiting outside. “How do you know her? Dude, that’s Abigail—”

“Shut it. I know who she is.” I ran a hand over the back of my neck.

“Wait.
She’s
who you were engaged to? Oh-ho, buddy.”

“No.”

Slowly, his eyes widened. “So she’s new? Holy shit on a shingle, she’s, like, your new girlfriend?”

Why was everyone assuming that? “I’m not dating anyone right now. I’m an unfettered, free-flying…” But the moronic sentence died halfway out of my mouth.

“Total stud.” Chandler shook his head, looking at me like I was his dating hero. “Only you could bag a babe like that.”

“No one’s bagging anyone, and show some respect, she’s a lady.” I grabbed the other bag of food. “You’ve got customers. I’ll be gone all day but I have my cell, so shout if you— Shit, wait.”

My brain. Where was my brain?

“Hey, uh, I need a favor. I’ve got a really important meeting this afternoon.” I pulled out my phone. “Would you text me at one? Then an hour after that? Just…remind me. I should be done with, um, lunch by then, anyway. It’s on my calendar app, but I’m afraid I’ll forget.”

“You need that many reminders?”

“Yeah. I think I probably do today.”

“Ahh.” Chandler grinned and nodded slowly. “Gotcha.”

“So, you will?”

He saluted. “Sir, yes, sir.”

What was this girl doing to me? She hadn’t asked me to stay with her—for protection or company or anything. But I wanted to. Every second I was in her company, the clearer that became, even though I also knew it was a huge waste of time, wasted effort. So why couldn’t I just leave?

She was outside, leaning against the front window, the bill of her cap covering the top half of her face. Concealed again. Was her self-concealing out of habit, or was it because of what just happened inside?

“Hey,” I said. “You ready?”

“What was all that?” she asked, glancing back inside. “Your little hush-hush good-bye convo?”

“That?” I kicked some rocks off the sidewalk and squinted across the courtyard, making sure no one was looking our way. “Oh, I was just explaining to Chandler in graphic detail what will happen to his job and the rest of his existence if he tells any living soul about you being here.” To add cinematic drama, I ran a finger across my throat, Tony Soprano-style.

She stood still for a second, then laughed and punched my arm. “Poor Chandler.”

I smiled back, taking in the sound of her laugh, memorizing it for later, for when she was gone. At the thought, a sharp pain jabbed at my gut. “He’ll live.”

Just before we began to walk, Abby glanced at me and with a finger, she nudged up the bill of her cap a good three inches, fully exposing her sunny smile.

Chapter Seven

“You Do Something to Me”

Abby was chatty as we walked down the footpath toward the beach, and I felt pretty damn special when I noticed how many times she glanced my way, until I realized she was actually eyeing the bag of food. I needed to feed this girl now.

I was about to tell her we’d be eating soon when her cell started to ring. Or rather, sing. It was a Beatles song, one I recognized from summers at my grandparents’ house.

She didn’t answer it, but her latest glance at the food bag had moved up to my face. I didn’t mind her gaze lingering on me—it gave me a chance to gaze back unchecked, taking in her serious hotness. But when I felt a non-food-related craving coming on, I snapped out of it.

“Hey, there.” I gestured at the front pocket of her shorts. “Are you going to answer that, or do you expect me to go in after it? And I’m only half kidding.”

Abby blinked like she was coming out of the same spell I’d just been under. I knew the moment she was fully conscious again because she frowned, a notch forming between her eyes as she pulled out her cell. “Hello? Hi, Max. How are you?” The strain in her voice was obvious.

She listened for a few seconds then shut her eyes tight—that notch between them cutting deeper. Who the hell was Max¸ and why did speaking to him on the phone instantly cause her stress?

Her shoulders tensed when she lifted them and rotated around thirty degrees. A pretty obvious nonverbal sign of being uncomfortable or guarded. “Sorry I forgot to call you last night, Max. Lindsey and I…we…we were just…” Now she was pulling away
and
stuttering.

Was she trying to hide me from the guy on the phone, or was she trying to hide the guy on the phone from me?

She couldn’t do either, since I was standing two feet away. For all I knew, this Max person was her boyfriend. The thought didn’t exactly morph me into Othello’s green-eyed monster, but I didn’t like the idea that Abby wasn’t single, especially when five seconds ago I’d wanted to kiss her.

I tapped her shoulder. “Want me to wait over there?” I pointed toward the square.

Her eyes immediately went wide. “No!” She held the cell away from her ear and dropped her voice to a rushed whisper. “Don’t leave. It’s my manager. I’ll just be a sec.”

She flinched when a loud and annoyed
“Hey!”
shot from her cell. Dude. Her manager sounded like an asshat.

“I’m here. Sorry, Max, sorry,” she said into the phone.

I took a polite step back, but if Abby didn’t want me to go, I wasn’t about to.
Don’t leave.
Her words echoed through my head, even though the reason behind them could’ve been a million things. I was fine with being her bodyguard from townie fans, her protector from small children seeking jam. I’d fight off Chandler or this Max guy or anyone else who annoyed her. I would be her platonic muscle if that was all she needed, for as long as I could.

“I’m just taking a walk, Max,” Abby said. “We’re on our way to eat lunch. Oh, um, he…he’s no one you know.” She was looking at me, and her face was sunny again, open and warm as she tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “He’s a…he’s a friend. My good friend.”

Three simple words, but their sincerity could’ve knocked me over.

And for the first time in way too long, something shifted in my chest; the stubborn fortitude blocking out real feelings was trying to let this woman in. I wanted to be Abby’s friend. I wanted to hang out with her, get to know her, find out why she played with her hair so much, why she loved Swiss cheese, and why the hell she sometimes quoted Beatles lyrics in conversation.

I liked this girl. I liked Abigail Kelly. And I had no idea what I was supposed to do about that.

None of this was smart. But when Abby smiled at me again, and I felt another mushroom cloud of heat explode in my chest, I knew being smart around her wasn’t realistic.

“I know, Max, I know,” she said, then pinched her eyes shut like she’d just said the worst thing in the world to him. “Everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about. It’s all good.”

Her voice lied—even I knew that. And her expression morphing even tenser made my blood boil, reactivating my impulse to protect. No, the actual impulse was to grab the phone from her and tell this Max ass to shut up and stay the hell away from her before I went all Jackie Chan on his ass.

But I obviously couldn’t do that, even though the impulse clicked up a notch when Abby gnawed on her lip and clenched her eyes shut tighter. Before I did anything, I needed to stop and think things through for two seconds, rationally. But not here. I couldn’t just stand here, wondering if it was wiser to stay or go, or how it would feel to wordlessly yank her phone away then kiss her squarely on the mouth.

I tapped her shoulder and she spun around, those mesmerizing smoky eyes boring into me, making me forget what I was about to say.

“I…I’ll be right back.” I started walking away from her, not knowing where I was going, but then stopped in my tracks when she called out my name for me to wait. How could I not? When I turned, she had a hand over her cell.

“Where are you going?”

No idea. “I’ll be right back,” I repeated. Then I really did take off running.

So far, because of Abby, I’d lied to Rex, yelled at Chandler (not that he didn’t deserve it), added to the scene at Modica’s, and kept conveniently forgetting that I had a damn business meeting. Why? What made being with her so important?

I pumped my arms faster as I crossed the circle lawn in the middle of the square. It wasn’t too surprising when I ended up back at my store. Safe. Refuge. Things made sense. It was all mine. I made every decision here and I understood this place and my role.

“Boss?” Chandler said from behind the counter. He was bagging some shorts and sunscreen for a customer.

“Hey.”

Chandler gave the guy his change and bag then glanced behind me. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah,” I said, a little winded from my three-minute sprint.

His brows flew up to his hairline. “You left her?”

“I…”

“Why the hell did you leave Abigail Kelly?”

I narrowed my eyes, about to tell him to shut the hell up, but there were no other customers around to hear that name. Abigail. Was that what Max called her, too?

“I didn’t leave her,” I said. “She’s on the phone, so I…”

“Left her,” he finished.

Damn. Yeah, I’d left her standing on the side of the road alone. Hadn’t I inwardly pledged to protect her? And she’d allowed me to, trusted me to be her armored car. She’d already had three near misses this morning—that I’d noticed. Yet I’d left her alone. Like a jackass.

“You can’t just leave her alone like that,” Chandler said. “Don’t you know anything about her?”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean, I know
everything
about her. Dude. That’s Abigail Kelly.”

I lifted my hands and backed away. That name was starting to bug me. It had strings, and I couldn’t be a strings kind of guy right now. I was a free-flying hawk or whatever the hell that was. I was about to sign the paperwork on a loan so I could expand my surf shop. Those were the only “strings” I had time for, and those would be pretty damn binding. Also, that voicemail from Sophie was fresh on my mind, and knowing I had to call her back was distracting enough when I should be focused on work.

A girl like Abigail Kelly didn’t come with just strings attached—she had steel cables. Not what I needed today. Or tomorrow. Probably not ever.

But then I pictured the way she bit her lip and tucked her hair behind her ears. No, she was different—I felt that. And it screwed with my head how badly I wanted to figure out why she made me feel that way.

On the phone to Max, she’d called me her friend, and the way she’d looked at me when she’d said it… The thought made something move in my stomach, like there was something alive in there, flying around like…butterflies?

I couldn’t think of the last time a girl gave me butterflies. Maybe sixth grade.

My cell in my pocket vibrated. I pulled it out to check the screen, and then, for one second, I clenched my teeth. “Hi, Dad. What’s up?”

“Is it done?” he asked.

“Uh, no.” I moved toward the back office. “My appointment’s not until four.”

“Oh. Well, I thought you were going earlier; taking care of business now.”

“Um, yeah, I will. I mean, I might.” Dammit, get a grip. “I’ve got a few things to take care of first.”

“Okay, son. Well, knock ‘em dead.” There was pride in Dad’s voice again—which was good. Helped me refocus.

“I will, thanks for the call.”

I hung up and stared across the room. It wasn’t like me to be distracted like this, especially on a day like today that was so important. For a second, I wondered if it would’ve been better if I’d let that gray-eyed girl walk out of my store the first time she’d tried. But the thought made my jaw clench again, tighter.

“You’re still here?” Chandler said.

“Yeah, I needed to…” I searched for an explanation as to why I hadn’t returned to Abby yet, then I spied that floppy hat I’d made her try on earlier. “I have to grab this.”

Chandler looked at his watch and shook his head.

How long had I been gone? Ten minutes? Long enough that she’d decided to ditch
me
and go off on her own? The thought both paralyzed me and shocked me into action.

“I need another favor,” I said in a rush, grabbing the hat. “Call the landscapers who do my yard. Their number’s in my office in back. Tell them not to go to my house today.”

“Why?”

“Just call them. I don’t want them there. I don’t want anyone near my house.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n.”

I didn’t have time to call him a smart-ass. Once outside, I took off running again, faster this time. Fellow Seasiders greeted me as I ran by, but I only waved and kept running.

Indescribable relief washed over me when I saw Abby standing there. Right where I’d left her. Her back was to me, but she must’ve heard me coming because she turned around. That damn ball cap was low on her face again, hiding her from the world. From me. I hated that, and I hated Max or whoever had done something to her to make her want to hide.

I stopped in front of her, trying to catch my breath without looking like a lunatic who’d just run a dead sprint. “You forgot this,” I said, displaying the floppy hat.

She stared at it for a second, then the sweetest smile broke out on her face. It crushed my insides, then it lit them up like Roman candles on the Fourth of July. I couldn’t help smiling back, wondering if I had the same effect on her. But that was insane. She was Abigai—no, she was Abby.

“So adorbs, gimme,” she said. Still grinning, she peeled off her baseball cap and slid on the straw hat. Crap on a cracker, she was absolutely gorgeous.

“Cute,” I said, downplaying the stunningly obvious, and how looking at her made me want to grab her around the waist and haul her off the footpath.

Abby blinked up at me, looking pleased while just a tiny bit insecure. Her vulnerability at my compliment was even sexier.

“Now I’m beginning to see what all the fuss is about,” I added. “Let’s go.” I picked up our bag of food, knowing exactly where I wanted to take her. I headed that direction, feeling way too good when she skipped to catch up.

“So, cute, huh?”

I glanced down at her. “What?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “You think I’m cute.”

“Uh,
yeah
,” I said like it was a no-brainer. It didn’t seem like she was fishing for praise, but more like…she didn’t think she was good looking, or was surprised I’d think she was. Which was batshit crazy. She’d probably been on the cover of a hundred magazines, looking all done up and gorgeous. Though, to me, she couldn’t have looked any hotter than she did right now, makeup-free and tangled hair.

“That call earlier,” I said, changing the subject. “That was your manager?”

“Max,” she said, not quite as smiley. “Yes.”

“Does he know you’re alone today?”

She tipped her chin at me. “I’m not.”

“Okay.” I laughed. “But he wanted you to bring a bodyguard?”

“Shugger, yeah. He’s been with me for five years. He hates the beach and he’s got little kids and stuff. I saw no reason to drag him away from that just because I felt the need to be out of L.A. for two seconds.”

I nodded.

“And it just ticks me off, ya know?” She stopped walking and turned to me. “It’s like the more Max drilled into my head that Shugger needed to come with me, the more I was like, hell no. I’m over twenty-one and can take care of myself, even though, well, I can’t all the time.” Her gaze dropped to the sandy footpath. “I saw what you did when those boys were about to cross the street to get my autograph and…whatever.”

“They’re just little pissants, they wouldn’t have done anything.”

For a second, this made me think. For a guy who didn’t want anything to do with girls who came with drama, I’d kind of already put up with a lot. And it hadn’t bugged me at all. Though I knew a couple of kids wanting autographs couldn’t really be what Abby’s life was like. It was probably a full-blown circus freak show. And yeah, that so wasn’t my scene.