Runaway Groom (9 page)

The old man stopped speaking to look at the cake. “Missy, he isn’t going to trade you cake for tools. They accept cash and credit here. Least they did last I heard, right, Braxton?”

“Yep, Earl. We don’t trade cake for tools. What can I help you with today, Abs?”

His smile was easy as he slid his gaze over her. It only made her madder. “Do you know what this cake is, Braxton Dean?”

“Not sure. Earl, do you know what that cake is?”

Earl scratched his chin. “Smells pineappley. I would guess it was Watkins’ upside-down cake, myself.”

“No, it isn’t upside-down cake. This is seduction cake. The entire town is trying to shove us together. And this cake is a seduction cake.” She jabbed a finger at the Tupperware lid as she spoke. Braxton raised his brows.

“Never heard tell of a seduction cake,” Earl said.

“Me either. What do you suppose the ingredients are in one of those?” Braxton attempted to open the lid and Abigail smacked his fingers.

“This isn’t funny.”

His lips curled. “I’m finding it pretty amusing. So what you’re here for is to tell me to stop people from giving you cake?”

“Not cake. Seduction cake.”

“Earl, would you mind if Manda helped you while I had a word with Abs here?”

“Not a problem, Dean. Uh, before you go though, could I get a slice of that cake to take home to the missus?”

Chuckling, Braxton snagged the cake and her arm and tugged Abigail out of the store.

Chapter Twelve

July 9, 2005

Abby,

I came back.

Yeah, not a lot else to say but that.

I was going to say hello. Actually, I had this whole dumbass speech lined up. I was with Dad up at the tool store. I saw you out on the street. I rushed forward and…

It was like you knew I was there. You shot a glance at the store like it disgusted you and turned and walked the other way.

I feel like a fucking idiot to still be writing you. You had to know I was in town. I mean, in this town, who doesn’t know when someone else farts? And that look on your face…

I’ll stop bothering you.

If I could, I guess I would stop loving you. If I thought it would make you happy.

But you’re my best friend. I can’t see that actually happening, even if I lied and said I would try.

But, the letters? Yeah. This will be the last one.

B

“Carnie told me what you’ve been doing.” Her tone was chilly, her eyes hot, and she snatched back the cake and clutched it to her chest like some sort of Tupperware armor.

“And what is that, Bigfoot?” The use of the nickname flushed her cheeks and she blinked up at him, almost stunned. Today her smooth hair was ruffled a bit, like the feathers of an annoyed bird. It made him want to dive his fingers in it. He hadn’t tasted those ripe lips for over a week now and…

“You fixed Mrs. Watkin’s porch. You went over to the Jenkins’ and worked on her plumbing. You built a wheelchair ramp for the Demshars. You’ve somehow managed in the past couple days to
help
every one of the gossiping matrons in this town in one way or another.” Holding the cake in one hand, her other finger poked at his chest.

Carefully guiding her toward a more private venue as she ranted, he let her finish and then agreed with her. “Well, someone should. I’m able-bodied. They needed some things done. Can’t see why that would have you storming into my store, fire in your eye.”

Actually, he knew exactly why she was pissed and found it pretty funny. She wanted to play chess and use the town for pawns? Fine
.
Lou pointed out that the best way to romance a small town was one old lady at a time. The power lay in the hands of the women.

And he used it against her. He should feel bad. As he continued to steer her toward the park in the middle of town, he noted that he wasn’t swamped with any guilt.

“And now they’re giving me cakes.
Cakes.
This is only going to get worse. I’m not sure how this plot to make an entire town of people that I live with daily and will have to continue to see when you leave—”

“Now, just a damn minute.” They entered the gazebo and he leaned against a post, facing her as she plopped the cake on a bench. “Who said I was going anywhere?”

Her gusty sigh and the flutter of her hands spoke volumes of her frustration. “You don’t have to say it. I know it. You left once. You’re going to leave again. Everyone does eventually. I get that but—”

“I’m not going anywhere, Abby. I’ve told you that.” His relaxed pose was intentional. He tried to hide the fact that being this close to her left him feeling like a teenage boy, all sweaty palms and unsteady heartbeat. She always got to him like this.
Always.

“No, you didn’t. But even if you did—”

Enough was enough. Getting into her personal space, he backed her up to a pillar. “How many of the letters have you read, exactly?”

“The letter thing again. Really?” Another sigh and her hands came up between them, stopping shy of planting themselves on his chest. “Can you back up? You’re crowding me.”

“No, I won’t back up. I’ve given you a decade of space. I wrote you. I might have been half-assed afraid of your response, a chickenshit, but I never stopped writing. Even when I told you I would stop writing, I still wrote you.”

“Bullshit!” Now her hands did plant themselves on his chest.
Smack!
Tears shined in her eyes.

He shook his head. “The letter thing is why I’m pissed.”

“You’re pissed? You’re pissed?” She practically yelled the words, punctuating them with more slaps to his chest.

“Yes. I’m pissed.”

But it didn’t stop him from wanting to taste her.

Delving his fingers into her hair, he cocked her head sideways and dipped for a kiss. Sliding his lips across hers, he took what he’d been craving. Maybe he was rough, maybe his fingers shook as he held her face, but it was because it mattered.

She mattered.

And she responded. It might have been that little hair trigger response, anger changing to need, but she drove her tongue to tangle with his.

It only made him want more.

Cupping her ass, he helped her hike herself up, legs scissoring around his hips to grind herself against his cock. It seemed he’d been walking around with a hard-on ever since he came home. It was all her. Only she made him feel like this.

All jagged nerves and constant hormones.

Pressing her into the post, he got lost for a moment in the feel of her surrender.

But it wasn’t surrender. Not really.

She still hadn’t read the damn letters.

Coming up for air, it seemed for a moment he really was drowning in her, as the gasp he sucked in felt harsh. “Yes, Abs. It kind of pisses me off.”

He let her drop to her feet. Her lips were red from his kiss and her fingers came up to touch them. “Braxton…”

He resisted scooping her back into an embrace, carrying her home with him, finishing what he started.

“When you’re ready to hear me, really hear me, come talk to me. I’ll be here. I’ve always been here, Abby.”

Because whether she believed it or not, he had.

Chapter Thirteen

January 2, 2012

Abby,

I was back in town again, your friendly neighborhood stalker. Lou said you were serious about Jake Hannigan. I caught sight of you two having coffee behind the diner at one of those patio table things they put in. You looked all sweet and romantic, and it made me want to throw up.

Wonder if he knows you’re the kind of woman who ignores her best friend for a decade?

Yes, still pissed.

You are the most stubborn damn woman on the face of this planet, you know that?

You told me once that a handwritten letter was the sweetest gesture any guy could ever make. We were sitting at lunch at the high school at the time and, as usual, I was a jackass, and just wrote “I heart Abasaurausrex” on a napkin and handed it to you. Asked you if that was sweet.

You laughed.

Well, dammit, how many letters have I written you now?

Someday, I really hope you tell me why you didn’t answer even one of them.

B

Carnie sliced off a chunk of the cake and slid it onto a plate. “Seduction cake? You actually said that to him?”

“Yes, I said that to him. What would you call it?” Forking up a bite of the dessert, Abigail scowled at her best friend. “That was its intended purpose. To seduce my ex.”

Not that the idea wasn’t tempting.

Trying to ignore her desire was like pretending the sun wouldn’t rise in the morning. That kiss, in the gazebo—

Somehow it caused her breath to catch even thinking about it, more powerful a memory than him making her shatter against the side of his truck. She’d never been kissed like that before, not by him or anyone. That kiss was all possession. It was like he owned her.

If he hadn’t stopped the kiss, she sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to.

Sipping a glass of milk, Carnie looked out over Abigail’s backyard thoughtfully. “Maybe if you fucked his brains out, we could stop talking about him and move on to more interesting topics.”

Flicking a cherry at her, Abigail grinned, attempting to hide the fact her pulse raced remembering him. “More interesting than my nonexistent sex life? What possible topic could be more fascinating?”

The sun shafted golden rays over the back deck and the breeze was a cool wash against her skin. Home and with her best friend, she finally had a shot at calming down. Maybe she was making more of it than she should.

“He kissed you again, didn’t he?”

Forking more cake, Abigail didn’t answer.

No, he didn’t kiss her. He destroyed every barrier she could imagine erecting against him with his lips. It wasn’t a kiss…it was a thermonuclear explosion that happened on the front of her face
.

“He did. I can tell by your face. Did he make your girly bits go all moist and goopy again?” Carnie laughed at her own teasing and dug into her dessert.

“You’re disgusting.”
Moist?
Her lady parts turned into Niagara Falls. Moist was an understatement.

Not that she admitted it.

“What is disgusting about a man built like a brick shithouse making you wanna do bad things with him?”

“Really?” Eyes wide, Abigail choked back a laugh.

Carnie laughed again, pointing her fork at Abigail. “If he wasn’t your evil ex from days gone by, would you have caved by now?”

An interesting question, actually. Even though he was her ex from days gone by, she really wanted to cave.

Really.

Instead, she shrugged. “Name one successful relationship I’ve been in. Men all leave. I keep telling you that.”

Suddenly, the cake tasted as good as sandpaper and Abigail pushed it away.

Carnie studied her, face gone serious for once. “You push them away.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

Carnie raised one perfectly plucked brow. “James.”

Abigail shoved up from the table, going to lean against the deck rail. “That wasn’t meant to be. He had dreams of living in the big city. He wanted to travel.”

“Okay,” Carnie agreed. “Name one of those things that didn’t float your boat and I will commiserate with you like a good bestie.”

“He would have left, even if I didn’t break up with him.”

“Jake.”

“Jake was a bad-boy fling. Jake was dangerous, rode a Harley. I think that was a phase to piss off my mom or something.” Abigail waved it away with one hand.

“Jake wanted kids. Jake offered you a ring.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t tell Manda that. They’ve been married now for a while and she sure thinks he’s gonna stick.”

“Carnie, who’s side are you on, anyway?” Rounding on her best friend, Abigail glared.

“Yours, dead center on your side. But I’m not sure you ever got over Braxton. You have this twisted idea that all men leave, and we know way too many people who have been married thirty plus years for you to think like that. Not everyone leaves.”

“He left.”

The words slipped out before Abigail had a chance to suck them back.

Her hand came up to cover her lips, but it was like closing the barn door after the horses were out. Carnie pointed her fork at Abigail. “Exactly. He left and since then you’ve determined that everyone will.”

“You don’t get it.”

“What part don’t I get, Abby? He was your best friend. You planned to spend your lives together. You made promises to each other and he defaulted. Ever since then, you’ve hung onto the idea that no one is gonna stick by you. Well, now he’s back and telling people that he never really wanted to lose you. It kind of busts your whole I’m-not-worthy safety raft from which you’ve sat and watched the rest of us get tossed around and bumped and bruised by love. Now you actually have to consider the fact that he might just have fucked up.”