Together we left the room, our hands dangerously close to touching by our sides. I was aware of the distance, I wanted to close it, and I knew it was wrong.
Everything about this was wrong.
On the edge of the main foyer, surrounded by the crowd, Gram was typing into his phone. Breaking away from Abell, I waved an arm. “Gram!”
He looked up when I called to him. “Nicky! There you are! I had started to think you weren't here.”
I jogged to meet him. Before I could say another word, I pulled up short—Abell had clasped my shoulders from behind, effectively stopping me in my tracks.
From my vantage, I got to witness the unease in my brother's eyes.
Abell said, “You must be Gram. Nice to meet you in person.” Stepping beside me, he held out a hand.
Gram shook it, eyes narrowing a fraction. “Same. Thanks for the invite, your house is amazing.”
“It's not mine, but I'll take the credit,” Abell said. I saw his hand squeeze, knuckles going bloodless. Wincing, he pulled away, shaking his fingers with a shallow laugh. “Nice strong grip you have there, brother-in-law.”
Gram's shoulders balled up by his ears. His smile was tight as a drum. “Don't get ahead of yourself.”
They were weighing each other, the silent judgment of two men trying to discover the intent of the other. It was a silly attempt at machismo. I didn't need, or want, either of them starting a fight. “Hey, both of you, stop it.”
“Stop what?” Gram asked.
Rolling my eyes, I gave him a light shove. “You know what. Quit sizing him up. And you, Abell, don't antagonize him.”
“I'm not!”
I lifted one eyebrow. “You are. Just quit it. This is a Christmas party, we should be full of good cheer.”
A loud ringing cut through the air.
Conversation died, and I looked up, spotting Corin at the center of the room. He had a glass held high, tapping the rim with a spoon. At the sight of his smug smile, my stomach dropped. What the hell is he doing?
“Attention,” he said loudly. “I'd like to make a toast.” He scanned the room, finally halting when he found me. I stopped breathing. “The Birch family wants to welcome Nichole Halloway into our fold. She and my son are going to be married at the end of the month, and I for one couldn't be happier. And, you're all invited to the reception!”
All attention was on me. Glasses went up, a cacophony of happy 'cheers!' rumbling over and over. The applause became a hurricane.
And to my credit, I managed a fake smile.
I smiled and smiled and waved a hand politely.
And Corin's eyes never left mine.
- Chapter Nine -
Nix
In a flash, the days went by. They evaporated hour by hour, until finally, the current date slammed into me like a car crash.
Today I'd be trying on my wedding dress.
How did two weeks just vanish? It had been a blur. I'd weathered it in a haze of planning, firm acceptance...
And the occasional cocktail in the afternoon.
But there was more plaguing me than just the wedding. Abell had drilled himself into my life. He found numerous ways to be close to me, always pushing the limits—always trying to get me to buckle to him.
I'd been strong, but if I was honest, it had been a struggle. The bastard was too good at finding the cracks in my armor. One gritty whisper and my thighs were soaked. It was as if my atoms had been programmed to react to him.
Each day, the temptation to just drag him somewhere private so we could repeat what we'd done the night we'd met grew stronger.
I need to stop seeing him.
That was the answer; avoid Abell Birch.
Except when I stepped outside my door that evening...
Abell was waiting for me.
Dammit.
He was parked out front, leaning on the hood of his car. The sun was reflecting off of the glossy paint, but his teeth rivaled the shine. I'd never seen such a smug looking man. He wore it like it was his cologne.
Rocking off of the car, he waved at me. “Nice to run into you, Sugar.”
Narrowing my eyes, I edged down the steps. “What are you doing here?”
“Bringing you coffee.” He revealed two cups behind him, balancing on the Ferrari's hood. “Extra cream, just the way you like it.”
I blushed red hot. “You came here just to bring me coffee?”
“Is that surprising?”
Opening my mouth, I paused. “Yeah, actually.”
“I'm hurt.” Passing me one of the drinks, he chuckled. “But I was also told you'd be doing errands today, and I thought you could use some company.”
He'd been told? By who? Thinking about the Christmas party, I connected the dots. “My mother told you, didn't she?”
Sipping his coffee, he nodded. “Yup.”
Cursing that woman for meddling, I took a quick pull from my paper cup. The aroma of coffee grinds and the sultriness of cream washed over me. He'd made the drink perfectly. “Abell, you don't want to come to a bridal store. It's what groups of girls do, you know? Giggling, sitting around, trying on clothes? Boring.”
“Beautiful women changing in and out of their clothing? Sounds like my kind of place.”
Prickles of jealousy ran up my spine. I washed them down with another drink. “Thanks for this, by the way.” I wiggled the coffee side to side.
“Thank me by letting me drive you to your appointment.”
My resistance was flaking off, washed away by days of his flirting. Peering at the ground so I didn't have to see his grin, I said, “Alright. My gift to you is letting you drive me.”
He cut the air with his warm laugh. “Aren't I lucky?” Tapping his keys, the doors unlocked. “Your chariot awaits.”
It was a challenge not to lighten up when he was so playful. Slipping into the car, I went to turn the radio on. “Hey,” I said, hesitating. “What happened to your knob?”
“My 'knob' is just fine, what'd you hear?”
Rolling my eyes, I pointed at the radio. He saw what I meant, and his frown was a quick flicker. Pushing the gas pedal, he started us forward so roughly I bounced back in my seat. “Hey!”
“Sorry.”
I shot him a side-eye. He's hiding something. I didn't know how to casually prod, so I let it be. Whatever had happened to his radio didn't matter, anyway.
Well, except that now I didn't have music to escape into and avoid conversation.
Heat roared from the vents, making the Ferrari toasty—welcome compared to the chilly day. It actually made me sleepy, sitting there with the hum of the engine and the cozy warmth.
“I don't usually have to ask this,” he said, his smirk going crooked. “But you'll have to direct me.”
Lifting my chin, I dared to meet his smile with my own. “It's not the first time I've done that.”
In the centers of his irises, a glimmer of delicious promise grew. “I guess you're right. You did direct me to fuck you over and over that night.” Pointedly, he looked down at my chest, growling in the back of his throat.
Pushing my knees together, I turned away. My breath was coming so fast it actually fogged the window up. “There, up ahead, ” I said, my tone shaking. Calm down. I pointed at the street. “Turn right there, the shop is just a bit further.”
It was a mint and pink building, the giant windows displaying white dresses in various styles. Just as I was regaining my composure, a new wave—a different wave—of nerves slammed into me.
This is it. Struggling with the handle, I jumped out of the Ferrari and sucked in the chilly air.
Abell locked the car, walking to me with his hands folded behind his head. “You alright?”
Breathe. Breathe. You can do this.
My hands rested on my knees, I was bent in two. “Yeah. I mean, no.” Giggling uneasily, I shook myself. “It's just weird. I never expected... I don't know.”