NICE GIRL TO LOVE (THE COMPLETE THREE-BOOK COLLECTION)(48)

“I actually just changed legal counsel since it was clear your father was going to pulverize the first one I’d retained.” She smiled. “My new attorney actually approached me to offer her help. Just last week, in fact.”

Really? That was unusual. “Is she any good? Because I’ll vet her for you, get you a better lawyer if you need.”

“Oh, she’s good alright. And you won’t need to vet her. You know her very well.”

He thought about that for a second before a slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Victoria?”

“Mmm hmm.”

Connor tipped his head back and laughed. Until his face hurt.

His father didn’t stand a chance.




ABBY STRETCHED and rolled over in bed, sliding a hand over to the space beside her in reflex.

To the feeling of cold sheets.

So he left.

The tears came even though she’d told herself there wouldn’t be any this morning. Even though she’d told herself she had no regrets about giving her love to a man who hadn’t been able to give her his in return.

But no amount of logic and enlightened self-awareness could stop the pain, stop her from remembering every last detail of her final few hours with Connor.

A memory infinitely more painful in its perfection in the light of morning.

When the sound of the doorbell splintered through her house a moment later, she stilled, unable to move, unwilling to allow herself to get swept away by the fantasy that it would be Connor standing there on her doorstep on day thirty-two.

And yet wanting to, so much.

Holding her breath, she walked over and creaked the door open.

“Hey, sweetie. Can I come in?”

It wasn’t Connor.

She opened the door wide and let Brian pick her up and squeeze her in his usual big, burly bear hug. Had it really been a month since she’d seen him last?

“Hey stranger,” she choked back her disappointment over which brother’s arms were holding her, comforting her. “Why didn’t you and Skylar come over this past week when ASU started back up? Were the three weeks without me that effective a detox program to get me completely out of your systems?” she queried, her attempt at humor falling flat.

“No. Just the opposite, actually,” he said quietly. “But we stayed away to...give you your space.”

She blinked and felt her already wobbly smile completely crumble away. “Connor told you, didn’t he? He sent you over here?”

“Yes.”

She quickly disentangled himself from his hug, which was now cloaked with sympathy. “What did he say?”

“A lot,” he evaded, and slid a thumb over the new tear sliding down her cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’ll be okay.”

So saying, he pulled out a small, gift-wrapped box from the cargo pocket of his jeans and handed it to her.

She melted. Brian was always so good to her, such a good friend. She didn’t know what her life would be without him.

“Open it.”

Slowly, carefully, she slid her fingers under the seams of the wrapping paper—seeing as how this was the first time he’d actually wrapped a present for her, she wanted to savor it. Maybe even keep the ribbon.

When she peered into the box and saw the beautiful antique picture frame inside, the perfect size for her nightstand, she shook her head in unsurprised amazement. Brian always gave her the best gifts. The photo he’d put inside the frame was her current favorite, too. It was taken the day she’d gone with him and Skylar up to the lakes earlier this summer. “As always, you’re a mind reader. I love this photo. I actually just lost the copy I keep in my wallet.”

“I believe that is the copy you keep in your wallet.”

“What?”

Instead of explaining further, he just handed her a slip of paper.

Okay. Connor was right, Brian did have a flair for the dramatic.

She flipped open the note...and felt her heart spin.



Abby,

Get out your magic decoder ring. You’ll need it for the gift, too.

--Connor



She whipped her head back up. “The gift is from Connor?”

Brian nodded.

A dizzying surge of hope flooded through her veins, rushed straight over to her heart as she called back the memory of what he’d told her once, but replayed it now with its heart achingly wonderful new meaning: If I leave a note, then it’s like leaving the hope that this isn’t really goodbye for good…if I send a gift, hell, that’s the same as saying I’ll be back someday so don’t ever forget me.

No, she wouldn’t need a magic decoder ring to figure out the note or the gift—what he thought he was giving her by this ridiculously romantic, misguidedly selfless act.

She blew out an exasperated breath, unsure whether to swoon, or cry, or drive right over to his house and kick him in the shins.

“What’s wrong?”

Startled, she looked up, forgetting Brian was there for a second. “Your brother. He’s what’s wrong. Or rather, he is wrong.”

“About what?”

Holding the note in one hand and the photo in the other, she gestured in frustration. “About this. All of it. He’s doing all this to try to be ‘the good man’ over something that isn’t even what he’s made it out to be. This right here.” She stared at the photo. “He obviously thinks you and I are something that we’re not, something he insists on believing is better for me than what he and I have.” No wonder he’d been asking her so many questions about Brian lately. Gazing at the note again, she sighed, “He’s clearly built up this whole idea about you and me in his head, and he’s not going to come back until I convince him he’s wrong.”