How to Handle a Heartbreaker (19 page)

“Not now. But yeah, sometimes romance is nice.”

He frowned. “Like what? What’s romantic to you?”

“I don’t know. Hearing a man tell me he loves me.” She flushed. “Not you. I mean, if I was in that kind of a deeper relationship.”

“Right. What else?” He propped his chin in his hand and watched her. “Flowers? Chocolates?”

“Those are nice. But I guess it’s being made to feel like I matter. That’s romantic to me. Like if I’m working late and he makes me hot chocolate. Or if my feet hurt and he rubs them.”

He gave her feet a disbelieving glance. “With those calluses? I don’t think so. Not unless you grind down your heels first.”

“Brody.”

He laughed. “I’m just kidding. Tell me more.”

Abby outlined her ideals of romance, of which, most of the things on her list didn’t cost a dime. “It’s about being thoughtful, not buying someone’s love.”

“Hmm. Good to know.” He looked pretty attentive.

“What about you? What do you consider romance?”

“Me? Well, right now you’re being pretty romantic, keeping that wet spot on the bed covered.”

She grimaced as he laughed. “I know. It’s gross, and it’s all your fault.”

“Hold on.” He pulled her off the bed and nudged her into his bathroom.

To her shock, he’d remodeled it. “Oh my God. This is…
nice
.”

The tub was no longer pea soup green, but an ivory color. He’d put in new towel bars, as well as a new
clean
shower curtain. The sink and toilet were brand new and high-end—and, to her surprise, stylish.

“It’s pretty much a copy of what Cam has at his condo. Little shit is cocky but has good taste. You like it?”

“Wow.” She stared in awe. “Last week you said the bathroom was broken. That the toilet didn’t work and the shower was busted.”

“I lied. Didn’t want you to see it until it was finished.”

“It’s amazing.”

He beamed. “Good. Now into the shower with you.” He turned on the overhead rain shower head and got it hot, then nudged her inside. “My idea of romance is a woman loving her man.”

“O-kay.”

“And she shows him by soaping him up, maybe giving him a nice scalp massage with the shampoo.” He waited patiently, glancing at the shampoo and soap until she smiled and took the hint.

After cleaning him up, he did the same for her.

“And then a terrifically romantic gesture to end all gestures would be for her to thank him on her knees. You know, blow him until he forgets his own name.”

“That’s romantic?” She raised a brow and slicked her hair back.

His gaze rested on her mouth. “Uh, yeah. Especially when she looks like a mermaid in the water. You know, drops of water clinging to her nipples. Her belly slick with soap and water.” He licked his lips. “She’d be so into him and want him so happy she’d sink down.” His breath hitched when she moved to her knees. “And she’d lift his cock, massage his balls.” He moved his feet apart and hissed when she followed his instruction. “Then she’d suck him dry,” he rasped.

“And he’d watch the whole time, even as he came down her throat,” she purred and wrapped her lips around him.

He gifted her with moans and thanks and an amazingly sensual climax. When she finished, she stood and let the water run down her back, feeling like the goddess she’d once pretended to be.

“You are the absolute best girlfriend, most romantic woman,
ever
.” Brody nodded fervently. “And I do mean
ever
.” He paused and met her gaze, his eyes full of emotion. “Move in with me.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He knew he’d rushed things, especially when his “romantic” girlfriend had stammered that she had to think about things and hightailed it out of the shower. They’d finished up the night goofing off, but he’d seen the panic she hadn’t been able to hide.

“Brody, pass the rolls, honey.”

He smiled back at Bitsy. Thanksgiving with his family. He wished Abby would have spent it with him, but she’d had plans to join her family that she’d made months ago. Hopefully she’d spend her days missing him, the way he was missing her. She’d only been gone two days, but it felt like forever without her near.

“Someone has it bad,” Cam muttered and eyed him knowingly.

“Oh?” Bitsy heard everything.

“Yeah, Mom. Brody and Abby are a thing now.”

Bitsy bobbled a roll. “What’s that?”

“Yep.” Mike nodded as he cut up Colin’s turkey. Mike, Colin, Vanessa, Cam, Pop, Bitsy, and Brody. A McCauley family Thanksgiving minus Flynn and Maddie, who had plans to stop by tomorrow with Maddie’s mom. With Vanessa keeping Cam and Mike in check when they grew too obnoxious, the holiday had turned out to be fun, if lonely. He couldn’t understand how he could feel so deeply for a woman he’d barely committed to.

Barely? You asked her to move in, dumbass.

“I like Abby,” Colin said around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

“Son, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Yeah,” Brody agreed as he stuffed an olive in his mouth and held it on his tongue before chewing extra loudly. “That’s just gross.”

Colin giggled while Vanessa and Bitsy sighed.

“Some boys never grow up,” Bitsy teased.

“Oh relax.” Pop slapped him on the back, and he nearly choked on the pimiento. “Boy’s just having fun. Congrats on snagging Abby, son. She’s a good girl.”

“Not that good,” Vanessa murmured and raised a brow at Brody.

“True. Where’s the fun in that?” Cam said with a big smile.

“Cameron Thomas McCauley, watch your mouth,” Bitsy warned him.

“Ooooo,” Colin howled. “You’re in trou-ble.”

“Yep. Triple name is a sure sign of disgrace,” Vanessa nodded. “But
you’re
being so good, Colin. Maybe you can show your uncles how to properly behave at the table.”

Bitsy beamed. “Yes, that’s right. Good boy.”

Mike grimaced. “He’s not a dog, Ma.”

“Michael, eat your beans.”

He sighed. “Yes, Mom.”

Brody laughed. “You know, it’s like some things never change.”

“You got that right,” Pop muttered.

Brody shot him a sharp look, not happy to see the man’s mouth in a grim line, his blue eyes fixed with frustration on his wife.

Bitsy ignored him and continued to talk to Vanessa, Cam, and Mike.

“You okay, Pop?” Brody asked quietly.

“Just fine. Been busy at work is all.” Pop finished his plate and stood. “Man. I’m full. Tell you what. I’m going to go for a stroll. I’ll be back in a bit. Think I’ll head down to the coffee shop and on my way back, bring someone a treat.” He winked at Colin.

Vanessa clapped her hands. “Oh goodie. What are you bringing me, James?”

Pop laughed. “You’re a pip, Vanessa. Tell you what, we’ll adopt you too. What the hell. We have the room.” He grinned.

Brody glanced at Bitsy, not surprised to see her sober expression, her eyes on her husband.

What was going on with these two?

Then she blinked and smiled, erasing her tension. “I’ll clear the table and set out the pie while you’re gone. We’ll be waiting on you for dessert.”

“Right,” Pop said with false cheer.

Brody met Cam’s and Mike’s gazes, all three of them knowing they needed to fix whatever had broken. If they could figure out where to start.

Brody finished his dinner and helped Bitsy clear the table while Mike and the others went out back to play with Mutt. Now behaving himself, he’d turned into everyone’s favorite canine.

Walking into the kitchen, Brody saw Bitsy cleaning off plates in the sink to put into the dishwasher. Her shoulders were slumped, and he swore he could feel her sadness from where he stood. Wanting to liven her spirits, he made noise as he walked in and joined her at the sink. To his horror, he saw tears in her eyes.

“Bitsy?”

“Oh.” She wiped her eyes with her shoulders. “Don’t mind me. Just looking out the window at my grandson and realizing how much time has flown by.” She smiled back at Brody. “I’m so proud of you, son.”

“Me?” He scoffed. “I’m just lucky to be alive and out of jail.”

She laughed, as he’d meant her to. “You sure were a slick one. But so cute.” She lifted a soapy hand out of the water and put it in his hair. “And you still have that cowlick right…here.”

“Man, I hate that. The wet smooth-down is right up there with mom spit when you try to wipe a smudge off my face.”

She laughed again and eased into a comfortable tempo with him. She rinsed off the dishes and he stacked them in the dishwasher.

“I like Abby a lot.” She handed him another dish. “I thought she’d be ideal for Mike.”

He froze in the act of accepting another plate. “Mike?”

“Because of Abby’s resemblance to Lea, I suppose.” Bitsy sighed. “But that ship sailed long ago. And now that I think about it, you’ve had eyes for Abby since she moved in. At first I thought it was because of her uncanny resemblance to Lea.” Bitsy grinned. “I think it’s more than that though, hmm?”

“I guess.” He shrugged. “She’s a great person. Smart, funny, really sex—er, pretty.”

Bitsy pursed her lips.

“I mean, she’s so cute.” He expelled a breath. “I really like her.”

“Oh?”

He looked around, and seeing them alone, confided, “I think I made a mistake though. I asked her to move in with me a few days ago. Think I freaked her out.”

Bitsy stared at him. “
Move
in
with
you?
Why, for you, that’s akin to marriage.”

That the word
marriage
in conjunction with Abby didn’t alarm him or make him want to run and keep on running worried him. This
like
he’d tried convincing himself he had for the woman was more like love. An emotion he’d never had for a woman who wasn’t Bitsy. Even Lea had been no more than a crush based on attraction and her sweet disposition. Certainly he’d never felt love for the woman who’d given birth to him, the one who’d thrown him away, more concerned with getting high than caring for her son.

“Yeah, well. She’s great. She makes me feel good.”

“About yourself?”

“About everything. I’m kind of afraid I ruined it by pushing too hard.”

“Brody, let me tell you something.”

He groaned.

“No, no. You listen. You’ve always kept your cards close to your chest, afraid to tell anyone how you feel or what you’re really thinking.”

“That’s not true. I—”

She poked him with a soapy finger. “Let me finish. You joke and you smile and you tease, but inside you’re still that scared little boy afraid to open up and be loved.”

“No. I know you love me.”

“We all do. All of us, Brody. James, Mike, Cameron, Flynn. Of course I do. You were my little blond prince.” She smiled and ruffled his hair.

“Ew. More soap.” He grinned back at her, awash in the comfort only Bitsy could give.
No, not only Bitsy. Remember how Abby made you feel? How safe, how loved?
His grin faded. “What if she goes home and realizes she can do better? What if she doesn’t want me anymore?” he asked and was immediately ashamed for expressing his darkest fear.

“Then she’s not the smart girl I took her for.” Bitsy hugged him. “When a person can’t see the truth of love when it’s hitting them in the face, they don’t deserve the good things that love can give them.” She pulled back, and he saw her tears again.

But this time he had a feeling they were as much for herself as they were for him.

“Yeah, well, screw all of them who can’t feel it,” he said in defiance. “I love you, Bitsy. You’ve been the mother I always wanted, and the only one who matters. I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.” Fierce in his support and meaning every word of it, he pulled her close for another hug and let her cry it out. “I love you.”
And
you, Abigail Dunn. One way or the other, we’re gonna have our own hug-out when you get back. So hurry home.

***

Abby groaned as her young nephew eyed her purse. She thought she’d hidden it better than that. After rescuing it from Timmy’s devious hands and placing it high enough that he couldn’t reach it again, she ignored the toddler’s cry and returned to her seat at the dining room table, where the rest of the adults sat drinking coffee after enjoying their Thanksgiving. The entire family had gathered this year, and despite Meg being a major pain, it was nice to see both her sisters, their husbands and kids, and her parents in one place.

Meg, her older sister by two years, glared at her. “That wasn’t nice.”

So much for reveling in family togetherness. If only Meg and her annoying husband would leave early. Surely their church needed them to be superior to someone else pretty soon? From the time Meg could talk, she’d been telling everyone how important and special she was. Their mother claimed it was a sign of Meg’s insecurities playing out. But Abby and her oldest sister Teresa agreed Meg had been born a bitch. Sad, but true.

“Tell you what, Meg. Let’s give him
your
purse to pour his orange juice in. Where is it and I’ll get it for him?”

“Oh, ah. Never mind.”

“I thought so.” Abby smirked. She’d missed her family like crazy and refused to let Meg’s bossy attitude dissipate the holiday cheer.

Meg balanced Julia on her knee and fed her daughter warm rice cereal. “It’s been too long since you’ve been back. Look. Julia’s almost one. And such a good girl,” she crooned as the baby gurgled and ate.

Next to her, her husband Tim looked on as a proud parent, while little Timmy wreaked more havoc in the living room. Granted, his cousins were supposed to be looking out for him, but putting a ten-year-old in charge of his three rambunctious siblings
and
his three-year-old cousin was a disaster waiting to happen.

Abby watched and waited, wondering if her sister or brother-in-law thought saving her mother’s antique lamps worth getting up for. Since Abby had been the one trying to keep the peace for a while, she thought maybe they were waiting for her to step in. But she planned on drinking her coffee while it was still warm and eating her pie before someone else gobbled it up.

Something crashed, and Tim rose with a sigh. “I guess I’ll check on them.”

Abby smiled at him.
Idiot. He’s
your
kid.
She heard a fight break out and sighed. She loved Teresa dearly, but the woman had no handle to speak of on disciplining her children. Abby knew she felt guilty about being on husband number three. But honestly, Jack, especially when compared to her previous husbands, shone like a star.

He chuckled. “Boys being boys.”

Abby glanced around the partition behind her. “Yeah? Well, your boys are bullying their little sister.”

Teresa rose to corral them. At least she hadn’t waited for Abby to move. This time.

Her sisters seemed to think that when Abby came home for a visit, the kids’ favorite aunt would assume all child-sitting duties, giving them time off to party.
Hell
to
the
no.
Abby loved her nieces and nephews, but she’d long ago accepted the kids were monsters. They listened to her when she had them to herself, but not near their own parents. Surprisingly, the same training that had worked on Mutt worked wonders on them. Consistency, she thought, was the key.

Thinking about Mutt automatically turned her thoughts to Brody. Did he miss her? Had he rethought his spontaneous invitation for her to move in with him?

She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“Abby? More pie?”

She glanced down at her nearly empty plate while Teresa and Tim returned to the table. “It was great, Mom. But I’m stuffed.”

Teresa studied her. “Are you losing weight?”

“I love you too.” Abby blew her a kiss.

The others laughed. Then her mother exchanged an odd look with her father. They’d been doing that a lot since she’d been home. Looking at each other, and then looking at her.

“Okay, you two. What’s up?”

The room fell silent. To her dismay, her sisters and their husbands appeared worried and refused to meet her gaze for more than a second or two.

Her mother finally answered. “It’s about Kevin.”

She’d been waiting for someone to mention him. Since she’d been prepared, Abby shrugged. “What about him?”

“Well, there’s no other way to put this. He’s engaged.”

She let that sit in her mind and sorted through her feelings. The biggest one she felt turned out to be relief. “Good for him.”

Her mother explained, “He keeps in touch. His aunt lives down the street, and the woman he’s marrying lives next door. Lydia’s girl. Miriam Wentworth.”

Her father frowned. “We know how hard the breakup was for you, so we never mentioned that he’s kept in touch. He was a nice boy. We liked him a lot. I’m just sorry it didn’t work out for you two.”

“Trust me, Dad, it was for the best.” How terrific that she meant the words. Not long ago, she would have been hurt to think of Kevin moving on. Even though he’d been a complete dickhead there at the end, they’d had good times. And he had a nice, funny side to him that had been pleasing, until she’d realized his jokes weren’t meant to be funny, but at her expense. Until he’d turned into Reverend Asshole.

Meg shook her head. “He seemed so perfect for you. Such a shame.”

“Not really.” Abby snorted. “Kevin was an asshole.”

“Abby.” Meg gaped. “The kids are in the other room.”

“Please. They can’t hear me over that noise.” The television blared with cartoony music.

“Honey, I know this hurts, but—” her mother started.

“No, Mom. I never told you half of what he was really like. I knew you had a good opinion of him. But that man used to belittle everything about me.” It felt good to get it off her chest. At the time of their breakup, she hadn’t wanted to badmouth him in the event he told her parents about her books. But now, she didn’t care. She planned on telling them herself.