The woman that Connor would be leaving come morning without a goodbye.
Had it not been for the loud chime of the doorbell echoing throughout the house, there’s no way Abby would have been able to hold in the tears another second.
She quickly ran to the front door with the cocktail dress still on, store tag swishing.
“Hi, can I help you?” she asked the pretty woman standing impatiently out on the porch.
The woman just rolled her eyes and made to move past her to get into the house.
Abby blocked her way and attempted to remain civil. “Look lady, I’m not sure what you’re selling, but we’re not interested in any in-home demonstrations today.” Okay, so maybe not civil.
The stacked redhead scoffed and looked down her obviously manufactured nose at her. “Please, don’t act like you live here. I just need to get my purse. I left it here the other night when Connor and I…well, you know.”
Liar! Abby struggled to keep a lid on her temper. She detested women like this. “I’ll make sure to tell Connor you stopped by. He’ll find a way to get it back to you if it is here.” Yes, and hold your breath while you’re waiting.
“So high and mighty,” snarled the woman, crossing her arms over her artificially inflated fun bags. “Don’t think I don’t know all about you. You’re the little teacher Connor is banging this month. The one he’s finishing up with.”
No. There was no way Connor could’ve talked about her to this horrible woman.
The woman laughed at her stricken expression. “Oh, don’t worry. He’ll finish out the month. You know him, always one to fulfill his obligations. Especially his ‘needy projects.’” She perched one perfectly French-manicured hand on her hip. “And when he’s done with you, he’ll come back to me.”
“You’re dreaming.” Connor would never break his rule in that way. Especially not for a woman like this.
“No, you’re the one dreaming if you think Connor’s going to make your little Cinderella fantasies come true. If you don’t believe me, ask him about the marriage arrangement his father is ironing out with my father as we speak.” She ran a condescending gaze up and down Abby’s frame. “Connor needs a trophy wife. And clearly, you’re the furthest thing from a prize for a man like him.”
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she stalked off to her Porsche. “In a way, I’m actually glad he’s slumming it for his last fling. It’ll make him that much more appreciative when he’s finally with me. So thanks for that.”
Abby stood there, frozen in place. Unable to get her feet to move. Once in her car, the woman slid the driver’s side window down and yelled out, “By the way, nice dress. Though it looked way better on me before I donated it to the thrift store…probably because it actually fit me.”
With that, she drove off the property and Abby had to grip the doorframe for support. She felt like vomiting. Never had anyone been so intentionally cruel to her before. The awful woman’s words clung to her like a web of venom, numbed her, made breathing next to impossible.
“Abby? Abby, what’s wrong!”
A dozen beautiful red roses scattered across the doorstep at her feet.
Blinking slowly, Abby realized Connor was standing there holding her up, helping her back in the house.
How long had she been standing out there?
* * * * *
“ABBY, HONEY? Talk to me. What happened?” Connor was officially freaking the hell out. He’d come home for lunch to surprise Abby with flowers when he saw her white as a ghost on the front porch looking ready to faint.
“Are you feeling sick? Do you need me to take you to the ER?”
Abby shook her head.
He exhaled in relief. “Did something happen today?”
Slowly, very slowly, the color returned to Abby’s face, and became replaced by…fury?
“That horrible woman! How could you ever have been with someone that vile?”
Shit. This did not sound good.
She picked up the flowy skirt of her dress, looked at it sadly, and then proceeded to rip the stretchy dress up off her body. “How can you live like this, Connor? These people…” She flung the dress on the ground and stared at it.
He couldn’t tell if she was still sad or just plain livid now. “Sweetheart, tell me what’s going on. Did someone come by?”
She laughed bitterly. “Oh, just some woman who said you two had sex recently. I believe she referred to herself as your future wife.”
What?! Once wasn’t enough. “What?!” his mouth echoed his brain.
“Tall redhead in a Porsche? The one who called me the cheap, fat pity project keeping you warm for her, before your upcoming feature-page nuptials.”
“That goddamn bitch!” he shouted. “That’s Gabriella, the woman who was all over me at the charity ball.” Rushing over to Abby, he swept her up in his arms. “I am so sorry she did that to you. You can’t believe a single noxious thing she said. She’s working with my father on some harebrained scheme.” He rested his forehead against hers. “She hurt you to get to me. And I’m so sorry for that, baby. So, so sorry.”
Abby sagged against him. “I keep telling you to stop apologizing for these people. They’re the ones at fault, not you.”
But I’m the one dragging you into all this.
He kissed both her eyelids gently, thankful she hadn’t wasted any tears on a whack-job like Gabriella. But the lines of strain on her face worried him.
This is exactly what he’d been afraid of.
Abby didn’t belong with him. She was too good. Too nice. His world would undoubtedly kill her spirit, break her down and scrape away everything that was so special about her.
His father was right.
Abby was far better off with a man like Brian.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“ABBY, WE DON’T HAVE TO do this. We could’ve just stayed home,” Connor repeated for the tenth time as he pulled into the parking lot of the club.
“No. We were looking forward to going dancing tonight. I don’t want that über bitch from today to ruin this for us.” She unbuckled her seatbelt, looking determined to stomp into that club and dance away their last night together.
Keep pretending that everything was okay.
Meanwhile, Connor just wanted to hold her, keep her for himself for just a little while longer. Not just to ease her hurt, but to ease his as well. To preserve the part of him that she brought out, celebrated. Loved.
Even if it was for just a few more hours.
Knowing there was no convincing her otherwise, however, and knowing she was doing this as much for him as she was herself, he got out of the car and went around to open her door.
She beat him to it though, and was waiting for him with a sweet, sexy kiss. He took it greedily, drew strength from it and sank into it at the same time. Deepened it into something not so sweet. And a whole lot more sexy.
Mid-kiss, he felt Abby slip something into the pocket of his pants.
What the—
He pinned her back up against the passenger door. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Abby looked stunned. Her fun, flirty smile faded completely and Connor mourned the loss. But he was too on edge now to shift it into reverse. “What are you trying to prove with this stunt?”
He yanked her panties out of his pocket and waved it at her furiously. “That you can be just like the other women I’ve slept with? Just another one-monther?” He slid his free hand up between her thighs, punishing them both. “Is this what you want? For me to treat you how I treated them?”
His fingers met her wet heat. God, how was he supposed to walk away from this tomorrow? From her?
The question was one he’d asked himself a hundred times over the past few weeks, but it wasn’t until tonight that he finally had an answer. It had killed him to see how broken down she’d looked after her encounter with Gabriella. Abby deserved better. She deserved to be happy. To be herself.