Resisting Her Rival (6 page)

“I didn’t say a name. Amelia, did you hear me say a name?”

Amelia pursed her lips, tilted her head, and said, “No, you sure didn’t. You say hunk, and Abby’s brain automatically conjures up Nick. Bet he’d do your
chores
in his underwear.”

“Will you just drive the car?” Abby didn’t dare laugh out loud and encourage her sisters. Hunk and Nick were definitely synonymous in her mind, much to her annoyance.

“Okay, but I get to be the maid of honor when you and Nick get married,” Amelia said.

“I’m ignoring you both and changing the subject. I wonder why Oscar wanted to see me. He sounded like he was in a really good mood.”

“Maybe he wants to tell you he decided to sell the building to you,” Amelia said.

“Optimism is what people who don’t know any better believe,” Abby joked.

“That’s what I tell Amelia,” Ann said.

Amelia laughed and adjusted the rearview mirror. “I like being an optimist.”

“Me, too, I think. I’m optimistic that Nick and Abby will end up in a mad, passionate relationship.”

“You read too many steamy romance novels,” Abby said.

“You should see my to-be-read pile. I could build a house with the amount that I have,” Ann said.

“I read one where the heroine owns a diner and she’s really reluctant to go out with this guy,” Amelia said.

“I read that one! The guy owns a renovation business, and the heroine ends up falling madly in love with him. They have this wild fling, and his name is Nick—”

“You two are hilarious,” Abby said, feeling the burn in her cheeks as she thought of Nick and their wild fling. Speaking of steamy…

…

He was in the doghouse, and he didn’t even know why. Judging by the expression on Abby’s face when she opened the door the next morning, no doubt he’d soon find out.

“We’re meeting the gang at the site where we’ll be working,” he said by way of greeting. Holding up a bag of still warm doughnuts he’d picked up at the bakery, Nick said, “I brought some treats.”

“You’ll have to do more than bring a treat to make up for what you did.”

That sounded like he was guilty of something. Nick scanned her face, looking for clues. “What did I do?”

“Don’t stand there with your sexy five o’clock shadow and think that I’ll be easily persuaded to overlook this one.”

“Now who needs to power down?” Nick said.

“You introduced Oscar to a woman.” Abby practically bit out the words.

“I told you I was going to,” Nick said, not understanding why she was so put out. “I gave you a heads-up, and I figured that was damned thoughtful of me.”

“You went to
my
friend Sue and told her that
I
wanted her to meet Oscar.”

“Oh. That.” Nick grinned sheepishly. “I knew if you were thinking of trying to trump me, it’d be with Sue. So technically, you did want her to meet him.”

“You don’t get to sneak into enemy camp and steal the ammunition.”

“Then maybe you should have kept watch. You were the one who said no holds barred, remember?”

“You can’t use my friends.”

“I’m a leader, not a follower. No holds barred means no rules, and you wouldn’t be upset now unless you thought you were losing.”

“I am
not
losing.”

“Sure.” Nick jerked his head toward his truck. “I’d love to stand here and spar, but I’ve got to get to work.”

“Don’t look at me like you’ve won, Nick Coleman. I’m not finished with you yet.”

“You don’t see me complaining that you’re not finished with me.” Nick wagged his eyebrows, but the look she sent him cut it short. Then he realized what she’d said earlier. “You think my five o’clock shadow is sexy?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know you’re a handsome man. That you don’t strip your shirt off and have a body that rivals Thor’s. That you’re not—”

Whatever else she was going to say was cut off as she stepped out onto the porch. She slammed the door behind her, shoved the key in, and turned it.

“I’m not what? Good for you? I can be good. I can be very, very good,” Nick said, dropping the doughnuts when she jabbed her finger hard into his chest.

“Don’t. I didn’t sleep well last night. I kept tossing and turning, and I’m in no mood to put up with your jokes or innuendoes.”

Nick captured her hand with his, keeping it pressed against his chest. “I wasn’t making an innuendo. That’s you fighting yourself.”

She jerked free. “Fighting myself?”

“Fighting the attraction you feel for me.”

“Really?”

Her lips parted, and even though she put her hands on her hips in a not-too-happy-with-him way, Nick took a step closer. When she didn’t move, he gently pushed her hands aside and put a hand on her hip. Using slight pressure, he drew her closer until her body met his.

“Yes. You are definitely fighting yourself,” he whispered, lowering his head to brush her lips with his. “Let me give you what we both want.”

“Fine,” she said against his lips, kissing him back, tracing his bottom lip with her tongue. “Let’s go talk to Oscar.”

Oscar? What the…
The building. Nick released her like she’d burned his hands. His head spinning, his body revved up like a racecar waiting to burn rubber, he said, “You’ve got a one-track mind, woman.”

“And if that track was sex, I’d be you.” Abby blew him a kiss, breezed past him, and jumped into the passenger side of his truck.

Nick looked down at the bag of doughnuts spilled onto the ground.
No doughnuts
.
No further with Abby.
The day wasn’t looking too good so far.

When he got into the truck, he glanced at Abby. “We’re going back to the bakery.”

“What for?”

“I always get a doughnut on Mondays.” He reached for the sunglasses on the visor and slid them on. The trauma in his family had always been kept behind closed doors, and he’d never told anyone, but he found himself wanting to let Abby know. “The doughnuts… It’s a tradition my brother Elliot started when we were little kids. All four of us boys would go buy two doughnuts because that’s all we could ever afford. We’d split them between us. It gave us something to look forward to, a few minutes’ break.”

“Your family struggled financially?”

“Not just from the financial struggle.” Nick pulled his T-shirt up from the waistband of his jeans to expose his stomach. He pointed to a scar. “This is from the broken end of a bottle my father threw at me. After the doctor finished putting in the stitches, Elliot led us all to the bakery. I was seven years old.”

He took a breath. “The doughnut tradition may seem stupid and childish to some people, but Elliot gave us boys hope with it. It was something we could count on like clockwork every single week. The only bit of stability we had, if nothing else.”

“The doctor didn’t question the cut?”

“She was my father’s cousin, so she never questioned his version of events.”

Abby held her hand up to her mouth. “I’m sorry, Nick.”

“I survived, scars and all.” He tucked his shirt back into his pants. Pity wasn’t something he wanted from anyone, least of all Abby.

“What about your brothers?”

“We’re good, Abby.” He didn’t like the way she was looking at him, the speculation in her eyes. “If you’re wondering if I’m abusive, the answer is no. Not all abused kids grow up to be abusive themselves. I’m not a damn statistic. I believe in choices, not excuses.”

“I wasn’t wondering that. I was thinking of buying you a doughnut and splitting it with you.”

He lowered his sunglasses and looked at her over the top of them. “Sorry, sweetheart, I want it all.”

“Another metaphor for us?”

“There is no us, as you keep pointing out. Unless you’ve changed your mind? Because if you have, you only need to let me know.” He headed for the bakery, determined to get his favorite lemon-filled doughnuts again.

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

“I would say you don’t know what you’re missing, but that would be a lie, wouldn’t it?” Nick smiled at the way Abby gripped the strap of her purse tighter. If he could just hang in there a few more weeks, he knew Abby would give in. She’d see that the two of them were too good together not to continue exploring that avenue.

“Give it up, Nick. You won’t get me to change my mind.”

“You’re as stubborn as Eunice.”

“How is your grandmother?” she asked as they passed the florist shop. Abby waved to the woman sweeping the sidewalk in front of it.

“She’s going to stay for a couple of weeks.”

“With you?” Abby pulled her gaze away from the window to focus on him.

“Looks that way.”

“You told me yesterday Elliot was coming for a visit. Will he be in town long?”

“He’s leaving the morning after the Fourth of July Festival.”

“I know he’s in the military, but what exactly does he do?”

“He’s a Navy SEAL. He’s meeting us today to help with the project.”

“Good. The more help, the better.”

“Why?” Nick eased the truck into the bakery’s parking lot and waited for a minivan to back out before he claimed the spot. “Aren’t you ready to work up a sweat?”

Abby fumbled with the door handle.

When she looked at him again, he said, “Is there a problem?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she said sweetly and closed the door forcefully after she exited.

“When you can’t handle something, just remember that I’ll be glad to be of service.” Nick opened the bakery door and waited for Abby to enter ahead of him.

“Of course. I know that from Florida.
Great service
. You have my gratitude for that.”

“Gratitude?”

“Oh yes. I’ve decided that instead of looking back on it with regret, I should be grateful that it happened. You know, like the way Amelia views life. Think positive about a negative situation.”

“
Gratitude
?” Nick threw back his head and laughed.

“Is there a problem with that?” Abby asked as they approached the counter. She pointed out a half-dozen doughnuts to the woman behind the counter.

Then looked up Nick with eyes so full of BS he could drown in it. “Other than you flat-out lying, I guess there’s no problem with that.”

“Lying?”

“You enjoyed it as much as I did.” Nick lowered his voice when they attracted a grin from the woman waiting on them. “Negative situation, my ass.”

“I know it comes as a blow to your ego that any woman wouldn’t want a repeat performance, but”—she lifted her shoulders in a shrug—“that’s just one of the realities of life.”

There was no way he was going to let that slide.

“Could you excuse us for a second?” Nick told the woman behind the counter. Taking Abby’s hand, he tugged her toward the rear of the bakery behind a wall dividing restrooms from the eating area. Planting a hand on the wall on either side of her head, he said, “You, of course, being the woman who doesn’t want a repeat performance?”

She patted his chest and gave him a pitying look. “Yes. I’m trying to let you down easy. Save you from further embarrassment. That’s why I left Florida so abruptly. It’s why I keep saying no now. It just didn’t do it for me.”

“Don’t touch me,” Nick commanded.

She blinked and lowered her hand. “What?”

“Let’s have a little test. Whatever you do, in the next few minutes, don’t touch me.” He eased his head slowly forward until his lips barely traced the side of her neck. “Do you remember this?” he whispered against her skin.

He felt her throat move as she swallowed. Her hands clenched into fists and he smiled. “Remember the anticipation? How your lips parted? Hmmm? I felt that same reaction when we danced last night.”

Taking both of her hands in one of his, he raised them above her head and held them there. With his other hand, he cupped her chin, stroking her lower lip with his thumb. He followed the caress with his mouth, lightly touching, tracing her lips with his.

He drew back when she angled her face toward his and breathed out a soft moan of anticipation. “Open your eyes, Abby. Look at me.” When she did, he said, “What was it you were saying about not wanting a repeat performance? You sure that you want to stick with that story?”

Chapter Six

“Heard you were told to leave the bakery,” Amelia said, working to keep from smiling.

Can’t anything be kept a secret in this town?
Abby arched her weary back and reached for the water bottle. She took a deep gulp and looked out over the lake, watching silently as ducks swam and bobbed in the calm waters. Every now and then, a fish would jump and disturb the stillness, but other than that, the area was the most peaceful place Abby had ever visited.

She drew her gaze up over the tops of the trees. The sun was high in the bright blue sky. She’d been working on laying the boards for the porch of the gorgeous home for the last few hours and had managed after the first several disastrous attempts to stop turning all the nails into half
C
s. As long as she didn’t think about Nick, that is. “We didn’t get asked to leave,” she said when her sisters wouldn’t stop looking at her with sly, expectant expressions.

“I heard you and Nick put on quite a show,” Ann said, then let out a curse when a splinter dug into her finger. She dropped her hammer and inspected her finger.

“Nick kissed me because I said I didn’t want him.”

“You shouldn’t have lied to him,” Amelia said and then added, “What? We can practically see the steam coming from the two of you when you’re in the same room.”

Ann started humming the wedding march.

“Knock it off. Sleeping with someone isn’t the basis for a good relationship,” Abby said, then mentally cursed herself for the slip.

“I knew it!” Amelia said. “I could tell.”

“What? You slept with Nick? When?” Ann gave up on the splinter and looked at Abby.

“Doesn’t matter when. It was a mistake,” Abby muttered, trying to keep from clenching her jaw in frustration. That one night had changed everything. Made her think about Nick at the worst times. Made her remember. Made her want things she could never have, not if she knew what was good for her heart. If she fell for Nick, she was afraid she’d fall too hard and she’d end up vulnerable again. Her gaze drifted to the side of the house where Nick, Elliot, and Eric were working.

“Best mistake you ever made?” Ann teased.

“Yes, damn it. I mean look at him,” Abby admitted in frustration, waving her hand in Nick’s direction. “He’s handsome, great in bed, and responsible. He’s funny, giving, and I’ve seen how kind he is toward others, but he’s not for me.”

Ann nodded, tapping the side of her face as she pretended to mull it over. “Yes, I can certainly see why. Besides all his other qualities, that ripped body alone is enough to make a woman run the other way.”

“Don’t be sarcastic and don’t bug me about this. I know what I’m talking about.” Abby slammed the hammer down with force on a nail that promptly bent. Her heart wished things could be different, that she could be different, but her head knew better. She sighed and dug the nail out, dropping it into the pile with the others.

“Speaking of ripped bodies, Eric just took his shirt off,” Amelia said with a smirk and an elbow nudge into Ann’s side.

Ann elbowed her back and didn’t look. “So not interested.”

“Incoming,” Amelia warned.

“Mind if I take some of your nails?” Elliot asked. He glanced at the pile of bent ones without saying anything and knelt to take a handful from the bag.

“I think I managed to dig out the ones I mangled,” Abby said.

“Nick will pull them out if you don’t get them all,” Elliot said.

“When does he have to have this project finished?” Abby asked.

Elliot slipped the nails into the pocket of his shorts and rose. “There’s no deadline. It’s his house.”

“This place?” Amelia said.

“Yep. He’s been working on it for the last five years, building it from the ground up. Doing most of the work himself.”

“Jeez,” Ann said. “Forget the cows. Maybe I should offer my sister’s hand in marriage to Nick in exchange for this house.”

“How’d you know about the cow story?” Abby asked.

“You know Granddaddy has loose lips, and he thought it was funny. Or maybe he was checking to see if I had any ideas on how to best counter Nick’s offer.”

Abby flicked water at her.

“I’ve heard a lot about Nick’s Abby.” Elliot grinned and focused on Abby. “I heard about the cow story, too. I don’t know if you remember me.”

“I do. I remember both you and Sara from high school,” Abby said, ignoring his “Nick’s Abby” remark.

His grin fell instantly, and Abby winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up—”

“Don’t sweat it,” he said. “I’m hoping our marriage doesn’t end in divorce, but at this point, who knows? I remember Sara mentioning she had a class with you.”

Abby nodded. “We had Driver’s Ed together. She drove up onto a sidewalk, scraped the side of the post office, and the instructor started yelling those five-dollar swear words.”

Elliot grinned at that. “Her driving has improved since then. She’s coming to town to bring our son for the Fourth of July Festival so I can see him before I ship out.”

“Good. I’ll get reacquainted with her then,” Abby said. “I hope everything works out.”

“Me, too,” Elliot said.

After Elliot rejoined Nick and Eric, Ann said, “I would
seriously
marry Nick for this house.” She picked up the bottle of suntan lotion, then reapplied a liberal dose to her arms and then tossed it to Amelia. “What food are you bringing to the Fourth of July Festival?”

“Betty Crocker and I are bringing a dessert,” Amelia said, and her sisters laughed. Amelia wasn’t known for her culinary skills.

“Hey! Lunch. Come and eat something,” Eric called across the wide expanse of lawn as he headed their direction.

“Do you think you could help Ann?” Abby asked when Eric propped a foot up on the porch steps. “She has a splinter she can’t get out.”

Ann gave her an annoyed glance.

“That’s in retaliation for humming the wedding march,” Abby said from the side of her mouth.

“I can get it myself,” Ann protested when Eric took her hand in his. “You’re an attorney, not a doctor.”

“Let me help, Ann,” Eric said in a firm voice.

Abby caught the flush on her sister’s face when Eric checked around the spot. Ann could squawk all she wanted to about not being interested in Eric, but Abby didn’t believe it for a second. She’d seen that expression on her own face when she’d looked into the mirror while thinking of Nick. She knew interest when she saw it.

“You wouldn’t happen to be stepping into your grandfather’s shoes and playing matchmaker with your sister, now would you?” Nick asked softly from behind her.

Abby turned.
Too close
. “Little old me?”

“Eric’s a good guy,” Nick said with a smile. “Not quite the catch I am, though.”

“I always thought you were so modest,” Abby said.

“One of my many great traits,” Nick said. “I had my brother bring out a couple of picnic baskets. Hope you’ve got an appetite for something other than me.”

“You just don’t quit, do you, Nick?”

“Surrender is not in my vocabulary.”

“Speaking of surrender, you might want to surrender on this little bet of yours now.”

He quirked a brow. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’ll be too busy making the sets for Oscar’s annual Shakespeare production to have the time to put into winning our bet.”

Nick smiled as if he knew something she didn’t. “I’ve never been involved in the amateur community theater, and I don’t intend to start now.”

“Too late. I already signed you up. I know you’re trying to get into Oscar’s good graces, and building the sets will help you to win points with him. I did that for you out of the kindness of my heart.”

Nick crossed his arms. “Wow. That was kind of you. But I already knew about the play. Oscar called me while you working on the porch to thank me.”

“So then you’ll tell him you’re going to be too busy?”

Shaking his head, Nick said, “I would never go back on an obligation, even if I wasn’t the one who set it up. I told him we’d be there.”

“We?”

“I told him that we were dating and you just couldn’t bear to be apart from me. He suggested you come along as my assistant, and I told him what a great idea that was.”

“You… You…” Abby closed her eyes. Opened them. “Do you know what this means?”

“Yep. We’ll be spending even more time together, which deep down is what you really wanted.”

I cannot believe this backfired on me, too
.

“This has nothing to do with me wanting to spend time with you, and you know it.”

“Like I told you before, Abby. Denial is an ugly thing.”

Aware that the others were beginning to stare, she said, “This isn’t over.” She moved around him and stepped gingerly down the steps she and her sisters had built.

“We did a great job with the steps,” she said.

“Changing the subject to cover your retreat?” Nick teased.

“Regrouping, not retreating.”

“A rose by any other name…”

Abby looked at him, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but she noticed the look on his face as he watched Elliot gathering up tools and changed her mind.

“How is he?”

Nick swung his gaze back to her. “He’d never admit it, but he’s hurting. He took the separation pretty hard.”

“Relationships can be difficult.”

“Tell me about it,” Nick muttered. “Elliot doesn’t need to go off on a mission with his mind divided. I hope the two of them settle it before he leaves.”

Abby tapped his arm. “The best thing you can do for Elliot is just listen.”

“He doesn’t talk about it.”

“What a novelty. A man who doesn’t want to talk about a relationship,” Abby said.

“Talking gets in the way of…other things.”

“Actually, for a woman, talking is what leads to ‘other things.’”

“Then I’m all ears, sweetheart.”

Abby laughed. “You promised food, and I’m starving. I hope you brought something good.”

“My grandmother packed the picnic baskets, and she’s a pretty good cook.”

“She and Elliot getting along okay?” Abby asked as they headed toward the shade offered by a group of trees.

“They haven’t spent any time together that I know of.” Nick reached into Elliot’s Corvette Stingray and removed two large picnic baskets.

“I’ve got a couple of old blankets in the trunk of my car,” Eric said as he and Ann joined them.

“Splinter free?” Abby asked.

“Yes,” Ann said.

Nick started unloading the basket. “Country ham, deviled eggs, some salad fixings, and slices of pineapple upside down cake.”

“Food is one way to a man’s heart,” Eric joked with a glance at Ann.

“I’m a terrible cook,” she said sweetly as Amelia walked over to join them.

Amelia settled herself on the blanket and said, “That’s not true. I’m the one who’s the terrible cook. Ann makes great desserts, too, which is why her chocolates sell so well.”

Ann shrugged and pointed to her sisters. “We’re a talented bunch.”

“I agree. I’ve got to hand it to you, Abby. You and your sisters did a great job finishing up the porch,” Nick said. He passed her a plate filled with food.

“It wasn’t that difficult,” Abby said, taking a bite of egg to hide the warm glow she felt at Nick’s praise.

“Give yourself credit, Abby. You run a successful diner, you can build things, you raised your sisters. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Yep. I can’t lose my building.” Abby raised her bottled water at Nick. “Or should I say I
won’t
lose my building?”

“Keep regrouping, sweetheart,” Nick said with a wink.

“My money’s on Abby,” Elliot said.

“Traitor.” Nick lightly punched his brother’s arm, and Elliot hit him back.

After they finished eating and put away the leftovers, Eric suggested they go for a swim to get a break from the humidity.

Abby got up and stretched leisurely. “Okay, but last one in has to go skinny dipping.” She took off running amid cries of, “No fair!” and, “Get back here, you cheat!”

…

Later that evening, Nick sat on the porch swing, watching as the sun slowly faded. He was tired, but in a good way. Give it a few more weeks and his house would be completed enough for him to be able to move into it. What remained undone on the inside, he could work on it while living there.

He’d liked seeing Abby at the house, had pictured her sitting on the porch long before she’d ever set foot on the property for the first time. He was doing his best to ignore that mental image. He wanted his reputation reformed—not to give his heart to Abby. Somewhere along the way, he’d known that the high school crush he’d had on the studious, always proper Abby Snyder would come back to bite him in the ass.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Before noticing Abby, the world had stretched out before him, his for the taking. Now all he wanted to do was give it to her like some poor sap playing out a country song. That feeling didn’t translate into casual, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Shifting on the swing, he stretched his legs out before him, crossing them at the ankles. He needed Abby. He wanted her. But love? Impossible. The Fourth of July Festival was approaching, and he hoped spending that time with Abby would help her warm up to him so he could win the bet. Though she was friendlier and he could tell she was more at ease in his company, she still kept a wall up between them, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what the hell he could do to get around it.

The screen door swung open, and Elliot stepped out. Even across the length of the porch, Nick could read the lines of tension in his brother.

“Trying to escape?”

“Eunice wants to rehash the past.” Elliot shrugged and moved to join his brother on the swing. He jabbed Nick’s leg. “Move over.” When he was settled he twisted the cap off the top of a beer and took a long swallow.

“You hear from Sara?”

Elliot’s lips tightened. “I tried to call her again, ask what time she’d be in town, but got her voicemail. She’s not taking my calls.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

Elliot kept his gaze toward the opposite end of the porch. “It was my fault.”

Nick swallowed. “Did you…”