Penmort Castle (Ghosts and Reincarnation #1)(74)

This, Abby thought, was true.

“Priorities,” Jenny finished, gave Abby’s hand another squeeze, let her go and then walked back into the living room.

Abby took a deep breath then followed her friend back to the donuts.

* * * * *

Abby felt the hair being shifted off her neck and she opened her eyes to see a man’s thigh encased in black trousers with thin pinstripes set wide.

She looked up and saw a wine-coloured shirt, collar open at a muscular neck.

Then up further and she saw Cash.

He was sitting in the crook of her lap, one hand on her hip, his eyes warm on her face. Abby was lying on her side on the couch in the seating area off his kitchen.

“Did I fall asleep?” she asked in somnolent surprise.

Cash smiled, leaned forward and picked something up from the floor. He came up with her book which she must have dropped after she fell asleep while reading.

“I think you lost your place,” he murmured, setting the book by her still full but now probably cold mug of herbal tea on the low table in front of the couch.

Abby’s eyes went from the book to the digital clock on the microwave over the stove.

When she saw it was a quarter to eight, she shot to sitting position, dodging around Cash, and jumped to her feet crying, “Oh God! The dumplings!”

She rushed to the kitchen, registering that her nagging headache which she’d been keeping at bay all day with pain medication had come back. With it being way late, and with the dumplings to sort, she didn’t have time to do anything about it.

Abby hurried to the counter saying, “I meant to have everything ready for you when you got home. This is going to take at least another half an hour.”

As Abby threw the tea towel off the dumpling dough, Cash’s voice said from behind her, “Darling, relax.” She turned to walk to the drawer to get a spoon as he went on, “Martini or amaretto?”

He was at the cupboard containing the liquor, looking at ease and unperturbed, making drinks in his kitchen while she cooked.

This she found vaguely alarming because it was not-so-vaguely appealing.

Abby decided to focus on the drink rather than the appeal of Cash and herself doing normal boyfriend/girlfriend stuff in his kitchen and replied, “Martini.”

While Cash started to make the drinks, Abby opened the crock pot and the aroma from the food wafted strongly into the room. Without delay, she began to spoon in the dumpling dough.

Then she heard him say, low and deep, “Fuck.”

She froze, gooey spoon in hand, and turned to see him staring at the crock pot.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“What is that?” he asked in return.

Abby looked down at the crock pot then back to Cash, worry filling her at his reaction and she answered, “Irish stew. Um,” she hesitated then went on, “don’t you like Irish stew?”

His eyes went from the pot to Abby and she held her breath.

“You know how you feel about cashmere?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

His lips turned up slightly at the ends. “I feel that way about Irish stew.”

A weird, intense, happy warmth spread through her at this news.

Then it occurred to her that she’d said she wanted to roll around in cashmere and it was on the tip of her tongue to tease him but she stopped herself.

Ben, she would have teased.

Jenny and Kieran, she still could tease.

She could even tease Mrs. Truman (probably).

Cash wasn’t hers to tease.

She went back to her task and muttered, “That’s good.”

She felt him get close and then she felt him casually kiss the side of her head as she was at her business with the dumplings.

At his kiss, the happy warmth was joined with a short, strong, lovely shiver.

He was back to seeing to her martini before she had a chance to shrug off this reaction. It took effort but she had herself firmly in hand by the time she finished the dumplings, cleaned her hands, pulled the crock out of the heating unit and slid it in the oven to bake the dumplings.

She was closing the oven door when she heard, “Abby, we have a problem.”

She looked up to see Cash close the refrigerator and turn to her, his face was grave.

She felt her heart start beating faster.

“What problem?” she asked.

He walked to her as she flicked the oven mitts off her hands and onto the counter but he didn’t answer.

“What is it?” she prompted when he didn’t speak.

He got close and put both hands on her neck.

“Darling,” he said solemnly but there was a strange, magnetic light in his eyes, “we don’t have any olives.”

Then she saw his mouth twitch.

Her belly dipped and her heart lurched.

But she didn’t speak.

Cash was teasing her.

She could likely protect her heart from domineering, sexy, charismatic Cash but loving, kiss-on-the-side-of-the-head, teasing Cash?

Impossible!

He squeezed her neck, “Do you think you could do without the olives?”

Abby considered this. Then she bit the side of her lip.

Because the answer was no, she could absolutely not drink a martini without the olives.

Cash’s eyes dropped to her mouth then he gave a shout of rich laughter and his arms came around her, pulling her to him.