And Then He Kissed Me (9 page)

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Authors: Teresa Southwick

BOOK: And Then He Kissed Me
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“Yeah.” Steve's face, normally impassive, showed his confusion and hurt. “You never said a word.”
Nick ran a hand through his hair. “It was a stupid thing to do. Not one of my better moments. I didn't think it was necessary to share my humiliation.”
It wasn't that, Abby thought. And he wasn't a coward. He'd been terribly used. She glanced around the table and saw the same expression in everyone's eyes—pain and anger. He hadn't wanted his family to suffer, too. The need to shield them had kept him quiet. But he also felt it was his mistake to fix. All alone. How awful for him, she realized. Keeping the feelings bottled up inside him. Again, she had the urge to wrap her arms around him and comfort him.
“Well no wonder you're a confirmed bachelor,” Luke said. “The woman in Phoenix, then Madison. You're zero for two, bro.”
There was a teasing note in his voice, but Abby sensed it was too soon for one of Nick's wry grins. She knew her instinct was right when Nick glared at his brother and stood up. “I think I'll get some air. Just talk amongst yourselves.”
 
 
Standing on the sidewalk outside his parents' home, Nick dragged in a breath of air. It was dusk, and a stiff breeze made the November evening chilly. Not to mention the hovering moisture that hinted of rain. But after being on the family hot seat, it felt pretty good. So the cat was finally out of the bag. He felt two parts relief mixed with a dash of embarrassment and anger. Which wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expected.
Somehow, telling Abby first had taken a lot of the sting from the wound. He had to thank her again for that.
The front door opened. He didn't look around to see who it was. Either his mother or sister, he suspected. They'd both want to give him a shoulder to cry on.
Amazingly, he found he didn't need to cry. He'd come outside because he didn't want to talk about it anymore, and he knew they needed to.
A single set of footsteps sounded behind him on the concrete. Then a familiar fragrance surrounded him. Abby. His gut tightened with anticipation, and his nerve endings began to tingle. His heart rate kicked up. His powerful physical response to her worried him. He had just come clean about his one and only folly. He'd vowed never to take a chance again. No way did he want a repeat performance.
Standing beside him, Abby faced into the chill wind. It blew the hair off her face. She was wearing black slacks and a fuzzy, soft-looking royal-blue sweater that he'd noticed earlier made her eyes sparkle like rare and beautiful sapphires.
“You never told your family, Nick.” She spoke softly, but her tone was filled with censure.
“It would only have hurt them, and there was nothing they could have done.”
“I know that.”
“I'm the golden boy. I got dumped in a big way. I didn't want their pity.”
“I figured that, too.”
Since when had she gotten to know him so well? He looked down at her pensive profile as she stood beside him. “My humiliation is complete. I finally told them.”
She glanced at him, then started to pace back and forth in front of him on the sidewalk. “You have nothing to feel sorry about. That woman gets the blue ribbon for dumb. She hurt a great guy like you. There should be a special place in hell for her. You were willing to be a father to her baby, and she tossed you aside like yesterday's linguine for the jerk who hadn't the decency to marry her right away.” She walked four paces, then stomped back and stared indignantly up at him.
Nick was stunned. When he'd first told her, she'd been supportive and bracing. And he liked that. He also liked that somewhere in her passionate monologue there was rage on his behalf. On top of everything else, he couldn't help thinking that she was beautiful when she was angry.
And he wanted to kiss her.
Big mistake, he told himself. Don't go there.
She continued to walk back and forth, shaking her head and mumbling. He could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. A smart man didn't step in front of an out-of-control locomotive. Nick considered himself to have above-average intelligence. He folded his arms over his chest and watched for several moments in surprised fascination.
Finally he couldn't stand the suspense and had to ask, “Why are you so mad now?” he asked.
“Because I saw what it did to you, telling them like that.” She stopped in front of him and put her hand on his arm.
“Thanks to you, it wasn't as bad as I'd thought.”
In fact, she made a lot of things better. Except his sleep. Ever since the night he'd almost kissed her, he couldn't seem to get the thought out of his mind. How would she feel? What would she taste of? Would she kiss him back with all the passion he suspected simmered below her cool, controlled surface? Did she wonder about kissing him, too?
He couldn't help hoping she did. But as far as he was concerned, his imagination was the only part of him that would know.
“Why thanks to me?” Abby stared up at him, then stepped back.
“For listening when I needed to talk.”
Anger mixed with a healthy dose of fear in her eyes. “Don't try to distract me when I'm mad at you, Nick Marchetti.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“It's what you
didn't
do,” she said hotly. “Why in the world would you keep something as important as getting married from your family? And your best friend,” she added, frowning at him.
“Wait a minute, Ab—”
“No, you wait. What's up with that, Nick? They care about you. They had every right to know. It's what families are all about. They stand by each other.”
“And take care of each other. That's what I did—protect them.”
“One of the things I miss most about my folks is not having someone to go to when bad stuff happens.”
“You've got me, pal. Dial M for—” He stopped when she glared at him.
“You're lucky enough to have a mother and father, four brothers and a sister, and you robbed them of the opportunity to be there for you.”
“There was nothing they could have done, and I wanted to spare them the pain as I've told you.”
“So you hid it. And made them think you're a selfish bastard who's soured on marriage for no apparent reason.”
“I didn't aggressively hide anything. I simply chose not to share any of those details with them. Do you blame me?”
“Yes.” She shivered and folded her arms over her chest, in a self-protective gesture. “What's her name?” she asked suddenly.
He shook his head, trying to follow her thought process. Giving up, he asked, “Who?”
“Your ex-wife. You never told me her name.”
He let out a long breath. “Margaret.”
Saying her name out loud after all this time brought back a barrage of images. Black hair and eyes, a volatile temper he'd mistaken for passion. He remembered what it cost him to bury the pain.
He clenched his jaw, then finally looked at her and said, “I gave her everything, Ab, and it wasn't enough. I know you disagree and this will sound weird, but divorce would almost have been better than an annulment.”
She didn't touch him except with her gaze, but he felt the caress. “I hate her for what she did to you,
Nick. And something else. She robbed you of letting your family share the pain with you.”
But Nick had always felt it was his punishment, his own private suffering, his to do with as he pleased. It pleased him to keep the pain from his family. And for reasons he still didn't know or understand, it had pleased him to share the secret with Abby. His friend. Someone who could understand. Considering that, her response seemed out of whack.
“What's really upsetting you, Ab?”
“I told you. Keeping this to yourself is selfish—”
He shook his head. “It's more than that. There's something else eating you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you're acting strange. As if this is personal. As far as I know, I haven't done anything except share something from my past with you. I could be wrong, but most people would consider that a compliment. So out with it. What's wrong?”
“You kept this secret for a long time. Not a word or a hint to the people closest to you.”
“And?”
She looked up. “You had no right to tell me first.”
Chapter Seven
“N
o right? Tell you first? What does that mean?”
“You're brighter than the average bear, Nick. Figure it out.”
Abby couldn't believe she'd blurted that out. She was angry, and surprised that he'd figured out so effortlessly that it was personal. Confiding a secret of that magnitude implied a bond between them. That was dangerous territory. But she'd never intended to tell him. More than anything she wished she could call the words back. How had she messed up so badly?
But she knew. One minute she was pacing, the next she stopped and looked at him. Something in his expression had told her he wanted to kiss her. That's when she'd stepped back and the words popped out.
It was scary and wonderful all at the same time. All of her feminine responses kicked in, apparently at the expense of her brain function. The line between friendship, a working relationship and something even more serious was so blurred she wasn't sure she could find
it, let alone walk it any more. Now what was she going to do?
Nothing.
“C'mon, Abby. You can't say something like that and not explain what you meant.”
“Don't you see, Nick? I don't want to be your third strike.”
He looked at her as if she had two heads, then shrugged. “What's baseball got to do with this? You've really lost me this time.”
Abby wanted to run far and fast. Then maybe she really could lose him. Because more than anything she wanted him to kiss her. Her heart was telling her one thing, and she had to tell him something else. Because if he ever did kiss her, she didn't have the will to stop him. And if she didn't stop him, there would be hell to pay. But he was right. She owed him an explanation.
“It's like Luke said. Margaret, then Madison. You're zero for two. I don't want to be number three.”
“Look on the bright side. At least your name doesn't start with M.”
“Don't joke about this. I'm serious.”
“Okay. Just what are you so serious about?”
She threw up her hands. “I can't believe I have to spell it out for you.”
“Sorry. I guess the alphabet is a weak area for me. What's got you so upset?”
“Telling me this secret before breathing a word to your family implies an intimacy to our relationship.”
He scratched his head. “I'm still lost.”
The wind blew and she shivered. Amazing, she'd been so
hot
just a few moments ago.
Nick pulled her into his arms. “You're going to catch your death.”
“We should go inside.” She put up a token resistance, but sighed and stopped when he didn't release her.
“Not so fast, pal. We need to talk about this and something tells me you don't want to do that in front of the meddling Marchettis. I love them all, but—”
“You're right.”
Craving his warmth and security, she let herself snuggle against him. What could it hurt? She couldn't imagine repeating this experience ever again. And maybe
he
needed a hug. She certainly hadn't had enough in the last five years. It felt wonderful, like coming home, but to no home she'd ever known. She'd never felt so safe before.
“So talk, Ab.”
“Okay,” she said. “Here's the way I see it. Bombshells like you just dropped in there—when everyone was supposed to be saying what they're thankful for, I might add—usually happen in a very specific order. You usually lay it on someone you're close to first.”
“I did that. You're my friend.”
“True. But it should have been your mother.”
“No way. There's nowhere Margaret would have been safe from the wrath of Florence Evelyn Marchetti. And remember, she was pregnant.”
“This is nothing to joke about, Nick.”
“Who's joking? My mother would have taken her apart.” But with her cheek against his chest, Abby felt as well as heard him chuckle.
“Okay then, your best
guy
friend, or your sister or brother—and you have three to choose from, for goodness' sake. Someone other than me.”
“What's wrong with you?”
“Where do I start?” She sighed. “Nowhere. Because
I'm not going to let you turn this around and make it about me. Trauma is a step-by-step process. You took a giant leap over your support system and came to me. I'm concerned that you have unrealistic expectations.”
“So?” He looked down at her. “I'm not saying you're right about this. I just want to understand where you're going.”
“Nowhere. That's my point. I don't have time for a relationship. I don't want to have one. But most of all, I don't want you to get hurt.”
“Strike three?” The tone of his voice told her that he was finding this very entertaining.
“Exactly. And please stop laughing at me.”
“Heaven forbid.” He snuggled her closer, and God help her, she let him. God help her again, she enjoyed it.
“For the sake of argument,” he continued, resting his chin on the top of her head, “let's just say I had feelings for you—”
“Don't do this, Nick,” she warned.
“What?” he asked, sounding as innocent as a choirboy.
Maneuvering Marchetti was at it again,
she thought. “I owe you more than I can ever repay. I don't want to jeopardize our very special association.”
“Define jeopardy.”
“Margaret and Madison.” It was hard, but she made herself leave the safety of his arms. “I work for you. But more than that, I don't want you to get hurt ever again.”
“How do you know that would happen?”
“For starters, I don't have what it takes to do the relationship thing right now.”
“And what does it take?”
“Time.” She looked at him. “Besides, I may be way off base. Feel free to tell me my imagination is running away with me. At any moment you can stop me and say that you tell perfect strangers your deepest, darkest secrets on an alarmingly regular basis.”
He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and shook his head. “Can't say that I do.”
“Okay, then let me remind you of something that apparently has slipped your mind. Things are not over with Madison. A fact I felt compelled to mention to your brother Luke before I came outside. He didn't seem too pleased about the fact that you and Madison are going to get back together.” She took a breath. “But there's every chance you'll work things out with her.”
“Not likely.”
“She's a good person, Nick. You could do worse.”
“And in fact I did,” he said.
“Are you taking this at all seriously?”
“Of course. But you're missing the point. The fact that I can joke about the past is a sign that it's no longer painful for me. In an odd sort of way, telling you, saying it out loud, made it go away. It was kind of a dress rehearsal for telling the family, and that made it much easier. I'm very serious when I say that you had a lot to do with that, my friend. Thank you.”
Just a few moments ago he'd said that to her, right after he'd almost kissed her. Would he finally do it? Her chest tightened with anticipation and need that twisted into a painful ache. “Me? How?” she asked, her voice breathless.
“You listened. You were on my side.” He folded his arms over his chest. “You said all the right things.
I didn't feel so damn stupid anymore. It was like holding your breath when you know something will hurt like hell. I've been doing that for a long time. I finally let myself feel it, and found out it hasn't got the bite anymore.”
“I'm glad I could help. But that doesn't change anything. I want to clarify the situation between us once and for all. I'm not ready for a one-on-one, exclusive dating thing. I look forward to that eventually. But I found out the hard way that waiting doesn't work.”
“Relax, Ab. One of the things I like best about you is your honesty. And friendship. That's why I confided in you. No one said anything about dating.”
“Really?”
Nick wanted to say more. But the look in her eyes stopped him. Abby was right. There was something going on between them, or he never would have told her about Margaret. And she would deny it, but he would bet that the blazing look in her eyes meant that she wanted him to kiss her. But he would be six kinds of fool to pursue a relationship with someone so vehemently opposed to it.
Because he'd fallen hard and fast for Margaret, he'd taken a chance with her, a woman who had compelling reasons to make it work. The whole affair had been an unmitigated disaster. He wasn't anxious to repeat a mistake of that magnitude. Besides, love didn't sneak up on him. It hit him suddenly, and right between the eyes. Until that happened, he'd remain a confirmed bachelor.
“Really. I don't want anything serious any more than you do. We're good friends, nothing more. To friendship,” he said, holding out his hand.
She smiled as she put her cold fingers in his palm.
“I'm glad you understand. I don't ever want to lose what we have.”
Her hand was freezing. “Then I suggest we go inside before we both turn into ice sculptures.”
“Before we do, there's something I need to thank you for.”
Would she thank him with a kiss, the way he'd wanted to thank her just a while ago? The thought sneaked in before he could stop it. Unfortunately it got his heart rate up right along with his anticipation. “What's that?”
“Your impromptu revelation saved me from having to make a thanks-giving speech in front of your family.”
“Happy to oblige,” he said, looking up at the sky as he struggled to get a grip on his runaway libido. “And let me be of assistance again and get you in the house. It's starting to rain.”
If he didn't put some distance between himself and Abby, getting a little wet wasn't the worst thing that could happen.
 
Abby let Nick lead her back inside, but she removed her hand when they reentered the dining room. She didn't want to give his family grist for gossip, especially when there was nothing to talk about. The problem was, when she and Nick stopped in the doorway, all talk abruptly ceased. Everyone stared at them. Knowing they'd been discussing his situation, she looked at Nick, waiting for him to do something.
“I'm going to say this once,” he said, “then I want to drop it and finish having Thanksgiving. What happened to me in Phoenix is over. I just want to forget about it. Everyone got that?”
A general murmur of agreement went around the table.
He nodded. “Good. Finish your dinner, Abby.”
“Okay,” she said. No way could she actually get food past the lump in her throat, but she was mighty grateful to sit down and not be near Nick, which felt an awful lot like ground zero at the moment.
Rosie stood up and walked to her big brother, slipping her arms around his waist to hug him. “Are you really over it, Nick?”
“Yeah. Thanks, sis.”
She stared up at him. “You know, big brother, what you tried to do for that ungrateful witch was very sweet. Not unlike the situation I was in. Do you ever get tired of taking care of everyone?”
He kissed the top of her head. “You're sure singing a different tune. I remember a time when you were mad about my interfering.”
“Only because you carried the big brother, little sister routine too far. But you've always been my hero,” she said.
The statement was followed by a series of catcalls, sighs and snorts of laughter from the various members of the Marchetti family.
“What about me?” her husband asked, feigning indignation.
“You're my knight in shining armor,” Rosie said, smiling at him.
Abby envied Rosie Marchetti Schafer more than she could ever remember envying anyone. She had a wonderful husband and four doting brothers to look out for her. Not to mention a mother and father who appeared to be in the prime of their lives and devoted to each other and their offspring. Abby wondered what it
would be like to have such a strong, solid support system. She almost didn't remember what it was like not to be in charge.
“Seriously, Nick,” his father said, “you could have talked to us about all this.”
“I know, Dad. Part of the reason I didn't was to spare you the pain of something you couldn't do anything about. The rest isn't as noble. I plain didn't want you to know how badly I screwed up.”
“You?” Joe looked at him in mock surprise. “If you did, it was probably the first time in your life. Frankly, we're glad to know you're human. Next time say the word so we can rub salt in the wound while it's still fresh.”

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