Abby, Get Your Groom! Page 15

  “Have you always worked together?”

  “No. We’ve overlapped at a few salons, worked at different ones some of the time. China came to Beauty By Design when I started the special events stuff. She was working at another salon then, but I knew she wanted to do more makeup than hair and was really good at it, so I talked her into moving.”

  He nodded. “And in all of that, what experience did you have that taught you to make up your own mind about people—like you told me last night? How many spoiled brats like Lara could there have been?”

  Abby laughed at that. “It wasn’t that there were spoiled brats. But there were all kinds of kids. And parents. And kids of parents. I learned early to try to stay out of the nasty little girl stuff.”

  “What GiGi called what Lara did.”

  “Right. I was about six the first time I went into a home and one of the other girls my age became my instant best friend. She told me all kinds of bad things about the other two foster kids who lived there and really scared me away from them. She said that she and I should stick together. I fell for it, thought I’d better steer clear of the other kids and that I was lucky that I had Nessa. Until one morning I got up and found that Nessa had told the other kids how bad I was and tried to get everybody against me.”

  “Ooo, that does sound like Lara.”

  “You meet all kinds growing up the way I did, so you have to learn to make your own call about people.”

  “And you have to be resilient,” he said, as if it was something he was adding to a list of her accomplishments.

  Abby laughed again. “You have to be resilient just to get through life, don’t you?”

  “Not all lives—most of them are not like yours.”

  Mark had said things similar to that. But he’d said them with such horror. When he said it, it meant that he wanted what her early life had entailed to be swept under the rug. Somehow when Dylan said it, it made her sound admirable for having weathered it.

  And even though she still didn’t feel totally comfortable in the posh, sophisticated surroundings she was in, she discovered that she once more felt comfortable with him.

  Especially with those blue, blue eyes looking at her the way they were, oblivious to everything but her, and making her aware of only him, too.

  “You’re kind of remarkable—do you know that?” he said in a dark whiskey voice.

  “I’m really not,” she responded quietly.

  Something about that made him smile just before he slipped a hand through her hair to the back of her head and came in for a kiss.

  Abby’s eyes drifted shut and then it didn’t matter where they were. All that mattered was that his mouth was pressed to hers because nothing seemed more right than that.

  He toyed with her a bit, kissing her with his head tilted in one direction, breaking away to kiss her with his head tilted in the other direction. Slow kisses that savored the moment and her. Leisurely kisses that began and ended and began again, drawing her in, playful and sexy and alluring and inviting.

  Which was how Abby answered them, welcoming it when the kisses grew longer, deeper. Parting her lips when he parted his. Happy when his tongue darted in and disappeared back out again only to dart in once more and make her secretly smile at his games.

  His other arm went around her and he slid her to him. He pulled her so close to him that it wouldn’t have taken much more for her to be on his lap. But that wasn’t where she ended up. Instead, with her feet still tucked under her hip, her knees rested on his left thigh.

  One of her hands raised to the side of his neck—thick and warm—while her other rested against his chest, savoring the feel of that wall of steel again, massaging it slightly as she felt her nipples tighten and begin to yearn for a little attention.

  Their mouths were wider by then, the kisses less playful and more passionate.

  The hand that cradled her head dropped to her nape where a knot kept the halter dress’s top up.

  Go ahead...untie it...she thought.

  But he only fiddled with it for a moment before he did something even better—he hooked his fingers underneath it and used it as a guide over her shoulder, past her collarbone, down the upper portion of her chest to the very first swell of her breast—bare beneath the dress because the cut of the neckline made a bra impossible.

  He stopped there, tantalizing her with that pause just when she thought he was going to go lower.

  Tease! she mentally shouted at him, giving him a taste of his own medicine by letting her legs move up his thigh just enough to reach his zipper.

  He squirmed slightly and his hand slid farther down, letting only the backs of his fingers brush her bare nipple at first and making her do a little squirming herself.

  Until he did what she was really wishing for—he took her breast fully into his palm from outside of the strip of fabric that covered it.

  It felt so good she expanded into that hand, her nipple a hard pebble responding all on its own to his touch, yearning for more, for there to be no fabric at all between them.

  Kissing had turned heated and filled with all new cravings then. Cravings that did drive his hand under her dress and made her whisper-moan with that initial feel of skin on skin.

  Big and capable, that glorious hand of his kneaded and massaged and caressed. There was play and teasing in that, too, for a time, before it became more. Before his fingers pressed into her flesh as if he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her, gently nipping and tenderly pinching and testing the tautness of that pebble of nipple, too.

  Up a little higher on his leg went her knees. High enough to let her know that she wasn’t the only one of them getting more turned on by the minute.

  He had a big bed in that bedroom he’d shown her...

  After last night she’d thought about where this was going. Where she wanted it to go and just how far she was willing to let it go. And she’d sort of made a decision.

  She didn’t have any illusions about Dylan the way she’d had about Mark. So she knew there was no future with Dylan.

  But there was still right now.

  And if she kept her eyes wide-open, if she kept in mind that it would all be over with after tomorrow night’s wedding, if she didn’t expect anything real or fool herself into thinking it was more than a lark, she thought that maybe she could let herself enjoy this—him—while it lasted.

  And let later just be later.

  Only tonight was a little different. Even if she had decided she could just roll with whatever happened between them, somehow the thought of going further in this place where she felt so strongly that she didn’t belong put a damper on things.

  And tomorrow was his sister’s wedding. Abby knew that Dylan had an early golf game with all of the other male members of the Camden family. She knew that was to be followed by last-minute wedding errands, and then dressing and getting to the church.

  She had a full, full day for that same wedding. So if she let this go where her entire body was urging her, it would mean a predawn frenzy to follow so that they could both get on with the day ahead. A predawn frenzy in this sterile place that didn’t feel anything like home to her.

  And that felt as if it might cheapen what she didn’t want to be cheap in any way.

  That was why, after indulging in his skip to her other breast and letting his magic hand work even more wonders there for a little while as he rained kisses and sexy little tip-of-his-tongue flicks against the side of her neck, she said, “You should take me home.”

  The problem was, it didn’t sound as if she meant it.

  Probably because he was awakening things inside of her that were so much stronger than common sense.

  So for some time longer they went on kissing and he went on tantalizing her breasts, and somewhere along the way her knees rose all th
e way to such an impressive bulge in his suit pants...

  Until she knew it was now or never and, forcing more oomph into her voice, she said, “Really...you need to take me home. Tomorrow is a crazy day for us both.”

  He kissed her again and almost every resolve dwindled under the pure heat of it that melted what little resistance to him she had.

  But then he ended the kiss, sighed and said, “I honestly didn’t bring you up here to seduce you.”

  She knew that. This was just always what seemed to ignite when they were together.

  But tonight it had to stop here.

  He took a deep breath, exhaled, closed his eyes, and seemed to be forcibly regaining some control.

  Then he clasped her hand in his and got them both to their feet.

  “Home,” he said as if he needed a refresher course in what he was doing.

  “Bet now you’re wishing you’d let me drive myself over here tonight,” she teased.

  “Uh-uh,” he insisted. “It’s gonna take some fresh air and the drive back alone if there’s any hope of sleeping tonight.”

  Neither of them had much beyond small talk to exchange on the ride down the elevator or on the drive to her place. But he did seem to have some problems not touching her because he held her hand all the way to his car and, even as he maneuvered the quiet streets that took them just outside of Denver, he kept reaching over to squeeze her knee or to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheek or to massage her neck.

  Then they were at her place, where he again held her hand as he walked her to her door, swinging her to face him when they reached it so he could kiss her again—intensely enough that she knew he hadn’t yet cooled down.

  “Tomorrow,” he said when he seemed to access his own willpower sufficiently to end that kiss and finally take his hands completely off her.

  “Big day,” she said.

  “Big day,” he repeated.

  And their last day together, Abby thought.

  But somehow she knew that the wedding wouldn’t be where their last day actually ended.

  That that wasn’t likely to come until what had been stirred up between them tonight found a conclusion of its own.

  After that wedding was over...

  Chapter Nine

  “Hey! Nice party last night, man!”

  “Yeah, but next time can we play with real money? I had a whole pile of winnings I just had to eat.”

  “But let’s keep the same system where Dylan has to bankroll us all.”

  “I second that!”

  Everyone laughed at the volley of words that came Dylan’s way from Dane, Lang and Derek when his brothers spotted him coming into GiGi’s kitchen early Saturday morning.

  It was Lindie’s wedding day and his entire family plus wives, fiancés and kids were gathered at his grandmother’s house for the kind of breakfast they’d all shared growing up there.

  But Dylan stopped short in the kitchen doorway. Since the Lara debacle he’d become accustomed to entering occasions with his family and having them all act as if they hadn’t noticed. This morning, for the first time in months, not only was his arrival being noted, he was being greeted. Cheerfully. And he wasn’t sure how to act.

  It had been a long while since he’d had a reception like that. This was the kind of teasing and warmth he would have been met with at any other time pre-Lara. Not only did it surprise him, it choked him up a little.

  GiGi paused in front of him, en route to the refrigerator, and whispered, “Looks like you’ve made your way back.” Then she kissed him on the cheek and in a voice everyone could hear, she said, “Well, come in and help yourself—the food’s all on the island, grab a plate and fill it.”

  “Glad everyone had a good time,” Dylan said somewhat belatedly as he stepped into the kitchen, hiding how thrilled he was that his family wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder any longer.

  “Even the Huffmans did,” Lindie said, referring to her soon-to-be in-laws. “It was a perfect way to get us all in the same room without anyone toting along any baggage. Sawyer’s parents love to gamble so it gave them the chance to leave all the bad blood of the past behind and just let loose like we were all one big happy family. Thank you for that, Dylan,” his sister said, sounding sincerely grateful.

  “My pleasure,” Dylan answered, going to the island counter laden with platters of food.

  “Good job,” Margaret quietly commended him as she handed him a plate, winking at him to let him know she wasn’t praising him for the rehearsal dinner but for having finally appeased his family.

  “Thanks,” he muttered to the woman who had been his surrogate mother.

  As he took a spoonful of scrambled eggs, Lindie said, “The only bad thing about last night was that I was too busy to talk to Abby. I wanted to thank her for what she did at the salon—did Dylan tell you all about that?”

  Dylan froze with the eggs only halfway to his plate.

  Don’t do it...don’t even say Lara’s name...he silently beseeched his sister, worrying that any reminder of his former fiancée would stir things up again.

  “Sawyer didn’t get to come for breakfast?” he said to his sister to distract her.

  “He can’t see the bride before the wedding,” Livi informed him.

  That was as much as his distraction bought him before Lindie went on to outline Abby’s encounter with his former troublemaking fiancée. Her story included how stressed out she’d been waiting in that back room, certain that at any moment Lara would charge through the place and cause a scene. She also painted Abby as her hero for not caving in.

  While she talked Dylan finished serving himself but braced for the impact he was sure the tale would have, scanning the kitchen for a free corner where he could take his food to eat and stay out of the way if the tides turned on him again.

  But his second surprise of the morning was that the worst didn’t happen. Instead, when Lindie wrapped up her recounting, his grandmother’s husband, Jonah, said, “Now that’s a girl to bring into the family—one who protects you from the wolf at the door.”

  “And can do hair,” Jani chimed in with a laugh.

  “And deal cards,” GiGi contributed with some humor of her own. “We had fun with her last night, didn’t we, Margaret?”

  “We did,” the old family friend confirmed. “And she can do hair—even Louie likes my new do, don’t you?”

  “Like goin’ to bed with another woman,” answered the man who had begun as the Camdens’ groundskeeper and handyman.

  “Good for you!” Seth said lasciviously, patting the elderly man’s back while everyone laughed and Dylan wondered if he really was out of the doghouse once and for all.

  When the laughter at Seth’s joke died down, Jonah returned to praising Abby. “That girl seems to have her feet on the ground. I like that.”

  There was a general muttering of agreement.

  “I think Dylan likes that, too,” his cousin Beau goaded him, slightly under his breath but still loud enough for the room to hear.

  “He says he’s not ready to get into anything yet,” Seth replied, defending him. “But when you are,” he added, directing his words to Dylan, “you could do worse.”

  “He has done worse. Waaay worse,” Lang said. But again only good-naturedly.

  And then something seemingly minor happened that was a very big deal to Dylan—room was made for him to sit in the enormous breakfast nook.

  It was the first time since Lara that he wasn’t kept on the outside of things.

  He knew he was grinning like an idiot but he couldn’t help it as he took his breakfast and slid into the nook, feeling as if he was finally sliding back into his place in the family, too.

  The taunts continued, but he was actually glad to be the recipient of
them because they were vastly better than the cold shoulder he’d been getting for what seemed like so long now.

  But despite this being a pivotal moment for him with his family there seemed to still be one thing missing.

  Abby.

  He was wishing like mad that she was with him right then to share this pivotal moment.

  Ready or not...

  * * *

  “That was the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever seen,” Abby told Dylan as he held the passenger door of his Jaguar open for her and she got in.

  He closed the door and went around the front of the car to the driver’s side. She let her gaze follow him the whole way because she just couldn’t seem to get enough of the sight of him dressed in that tuxedo, looking better than any James Bond ever had.

  It was nearly eleven o’clock on Saturday night. The rest of the special occasions team had left in the limousine provided by the Camdens. But Abby had stayed to help Lindie undo the elaborate basket weave that had made the back of her hair the centerpiece for a veil that fell from pearls encircling it. There were flowers intricately entwined throughout and it was all held together with an array of hidden hairpins.

  Abby was proud of the work she’d done and how striking it had looked, but she understood that needing the groom’s help taking it apart would not make for a romantic beginning to a wedding night. So she’d agreed to dismantle it for Lindie before she left. But Lindie had wanted to stay at her own reception right to the end.

  Not that Abby minded. She’d loved every minute of attending that wedding and reception—the cathedral ceremony, the country club reception in a ballroom of chandeliers, white linen, cut crystal and flowers galore with food and champagne aplenty.

  She’d loved being treated like part of the Camden family—because not only had they all embraced the entire special occasions team as if they were old friends, Dylan had kept her by his side throughout the reception, which had actually made her a part of the inner circle.

  And for this one night—knowing that it was only for this one night—she’d let herself live the fantasy and feel like Cinderella at the ball, like she belonged.