NICE GIRL TO LOVE (THE COMPLETE THREE-BOOK COLLECTION)(36)

“I’m hanging up now, sweetie,” he sang out. “See you tonight.”

All he caught after that were razor sharp snippets about pigheads and horse butt as he replaced the phone back in its cradle. Knowing Abby, she could’ve easily been talking about him or the menu she had planned.

Either way, this was already promising to be an interesting night.



At eight o’clock on the dot, he walked in his house to the sight of Abby bursting out from the kitchen at full speed. She launched herself at him and peppered his face with kisses. “Congrats, congrats, congrats!”

Chuckling, he caught her face in his hands and gave her a long, slow kiss.

“You smell good.” He stopped and sniffed again. “In fact, this whole house smells good. What is that?” Definitely not pighead or horse’s butt.

She gave him a strange look. “Cookies.”

He looked over and sure enough there on the big granite island was a platter of freshly baked cookies. He grew still as a statue.

“What’s wrong?”

He was wondering the same thing as well.

And then it hit him. “No one’s ever made me cookies before.”

In no way was he prepared to see tears wash over Abby’s eyes. Though she covered it up well with a whole lot of blinking, he saw the pain there—pain for the boy whose mother had never made him cookies. Pain for him.

“Well, that puts a bunch of pressure on me,” she said, audibly modulating her voice. “Hopefully, you have the same taste in cookies as your niece.”

Now that she mentioned it, he did recall Skylar raving about Abby’s world famous cookies. “How long have you been baking these for her?”

She shrugged. “Since Beth’s hands started failing her pretty early on, it was hard for her to do things in the kitchen so…I don’t know, maybe kindergarten?”

He picked up a cookie and felt a strange desire to crystallize the moment, savor his first bite of a cookie made just for him. As his teeth closed on the warm, chewy treat, he looked over and caught Abby gnawing on a thumbnail nervously, waiting for his reaction.

He wanted to crystalize that moment as well.

“They’re delicious.” His voice was rougher, thicker than usual.

She averted her eyes again. “Oh, good. I’m glad you like them. I didn’t know how else to help you celebrate your big win. I tend to defer to baking for all things celebratory…which is why I keep an extra pair of jeans the next size up when any holidays come rolling around…” She was babbling adorably, seemingly unable to stop. “I’m sure you’re used to more lavish hooplas—”

He grabbed her and kissed her again.

As his male ego was pleased to note, that seemed to ground her. By the time he relinquished his hold on her lips, she was smiling again. “I made pot roast in the crockpot. Since you’re such a fan of good ole fashioned dishes and all, I called my mom for her recipe and wrote it out on an index card for you so you can add it to your collection.”

The gesture tugged at his chest. More and more, in unique little Abby ways, she was burrowing the most unlikely, but clear cut path to his heart.

He was going to miss her when she was gone.

It hit him then how different the house was going to be tomorrow after she left...after she went back to her own home. His gut clenched at the thought, rebelled the notion of her calling anywhere else home since his only concept of the word for the past few weeks had existed around her.

Because of her.

And now he didn’t want to give that up, didn’t want her to go back to a home that he wasn’t in, didn’t want to think about the other inevitable reality he knew he’d have to face a few weeks after that.

The end of their month together.

Somewhere between his bedroom door and his closet, he was struck with the inane thought that there were thirty-one days in August. One extra day in the month. It stood to reason that his arrangement with Abby could be a thirty-one day month instead of thirty…never mind the fact that in the past few one-monthers he’d had, he’d been paring it down to four square weeks.

The lawyer in him told him it was a completely asinine argument to make, but some other unnamed voice inside him said it was genius, and that they were to present the discovery to her as soon as possible. Because what it all boiled down to was the one thing he’d risk making a stupid argument for.

Another day with Abby.

“Okay, it’s ready!”

Blinking himself back to the present, he quickly changed out of his suit and headed back down to rejoin Abby. Halfway there, however, he got sidetracked by a little piece of paper sticking out from her bag on the couch. The first bolded sentence of the email printout caught his attention before he could stop himself. Then the second sentence had him outright invading her privacy. He smiled, picked up the paper and brought it with him into the dining room.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, coming up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist for a warm hug.

“About what?”

“About getting an article accepted for publication.”

She spun around and snatched the printout from his hand. Even though she was remaining impassive, he could see her eyes practically dancing the conga.

“I was going to tell you tomorrow. Since it’s not exactly on par with a $7.3 billion dollar deal and all.”