Unexpected Bride (24 page)

Her hands and mouth moved over him, bringing him a pleasure he'd never dreamed existed, giving him more than he'd ever received. He tried to topple her off, to take back control. But Abby drove him out of his mind, her lips sliding over every inch of him. He fisted his hand in her tangled curls, pulling her up before he completely unraveled.

Then he lifted her, plunging into her wet heat. "Abby!"

She moved her hips and arched her back, taking him deeper. His hands skimmed up her body, cupping her breasts. His thumbs flicked over her nipples. Then he lifted up to close his lips over one of the hard points, tugging with his mouth and nipping with his teeth.

"Clayton!" she screamed as she came apart in his arms.

Her muscles squeezed him. her pleasure flooding him. She shuddered against him, falling to his chest. He clasped her close and rolled with her, still connected. He buried himself in her, deeper and deeper, until his world shattered. "Abby!"

He rolled them again, so that she lay atop, sprawled across him. She buried her head against his shoulder, her brealh warm against his neck. "You know what this means, right?"

Panic knotted his stomach. He'd forgotten a condom. For the first time ever, he'd forgotten to use a condom. He. the man who'd been obsessive about taking on
no
more responsibility. What had he done?

"What?" he repeated aloud.

"I need to sneak out of here."

"What?" She hadn't yet realized that he hadn't used a condom. Or maybe she didn't care because, after having Lara, she'd undoubtedly gone on some kind of protection.

He forced himself to relax. For now. But he'd ask her about it later, when he could draw a breath without gasping. God, she was incredible.

"I can't believe I lied to your mother," she murmured against his throat. "She's going to think..."

His gut clenched. She was going to think she'd finally get some grandchildren from him. And she might be right.

"The whole town's going to think..."

"You want to go out the window?" he teased, oddly touched by her embarrassment. He wouldn't have figured Abby Hamilton cared anymore what the town thought of her. "I can tie some sheets together."

She slapped her palm against his shoulder. "Come on. You know Cloverville. If I walk out of this building at the crack of dawn, someone's going to see me."

He nodded. "Most likely Mrs. Hild." He glanced at his watch. "She's usually working in her front garden about now. Or Mr. Carpenter. He's probably redoing those windows. You left all kinds of soap streaks on them."

"I was distracted."

"Yeah, I understand that," he said as his gaze slid over her naked skin like a caress.

"Hey, we just..."

The theme from
Charlie's Angels
pealed out of the purse that Abby had dropped next to the bed last night. She pulled away from Clayton, her breasts skimming his chest as she rolled onto the other side of the mattress. Then she leaned over to fumble inside her bag. Warm lips slid over her back, trailing kisses down her spine. Goose bumps rose along her skin and she squirmed on the sheets. Her hand trembled, nearly dropping the phone she pulled from her purse. "Clayton..."

"Let it go to voice mail," he murmured between kisses on the small of her back, the curve of her hip.

How could he want her again? So soon? The man was insatiable.

"I..." She glimpsed the number on the caller ID. "I have to take this."

She flipped on her cell. "Hello?"

"Abby? Where are you?"

"Where are you is the question everyone's been asking," she teased the runaway bride.

"I'm..."

"I know."

"You know where I've been?"

"The minute you went out the window we all had a pretty good idea where you'd taken off to," she admitted. "But you wanted time alone to figure out what you want. Did you figure it out?"

"Yes," Molly admitted.

A sigh drew Abby's attention to where Clayton stood beside the bed, clad only in a pair of black boxers. She thought he'd gone into the bathroom. But. then, he hadn't had a condom to dispose of. Clayton, who wanted no more responsibility in his life, had failed to act responsibly?

Not that condoms were foolproof. Lara was proof that they weren't, so Abby had gone on the Pill, even though she hadn't needed birth control since Lara's birth. She'd been so careful, so unwilling to trust anyone with her heart. Until now.

"Abby?" Molly called out, her voice screeching in the phone. "Are you there?"

"Yes." Naked and vulnerable in Clayton's bed, desperate for any indication that he might love her. "Are
you
all right?" She already knew she, herself, wasn't.

"I'm fine." Molly's sigh rattled the phone. "Just embarrassed and sorry."

"It's okay. You did what you had to do." And so would Abby. "Everyone will understand."

Molly's voice softened to a whisper. "I'm not so sure about that."

"If you're worried about Clayton..."

"I'm not worried about Clayton. He thrives on damage control," she said, dismissing her brother's feelings.

Abby had called Rory on his disregard for Clayton. She would call Molly on it, too—when Clayton wasn't listening.

"I'm worried about you," Molly continued.

"Me?"

Did she know what Abby had gone and done? Cloverville was a small town, and since Molly hadn't left it, she might know how much time Abby had spent with her big brother. She might even know about last night.

"I know how much you hated coming back," Molly said. "I'm sorry I asked you to stay. That was so selfish of me."

"I wasn't staying just because you asked me to," she admitted. She hadn't been staying to launch a business or to make her daughter happy, either. She'd been staying to see if Clayton could love her. Had she wasted her time?

"Good, because I don't want you to stay, if there's someplace you'd rather be."

"No." There was no place she'd rather be than in Clayton's bed, in Clayton's arms. But did he want her there? For keeps?

"I'm fine," Molly insisted, a little too adamantly.

She wasn't fine. But neither was Abby. Her heart beat heavy with dread as Clayton held out his hand for the phone. "Let me talk to my sister," he insisted.

Abby passed over her cell. As their fingers brushed, she shivered. Instead of the usual heat, his touch left her cold this time, like the disillusioned look in his eyes as he met her gaze before turning away. Clasping the sheet to her breasts with one hand, she pulled her rumpled sundress over her head with the other. But she needn't have worried about modesty. Clayton had his back to her as he spoke to his sister in the low, soft tone that he would use with a frightened child; that he'd used with Lara, charming his way into her daughter's heart as he had Abby's. Or had he always been there?

"It's okay," he assured Molly. "Mom turned the reception into a welcome-home party for Abby and Lara."

Molly's laugh filled his ear. "Home? Abby will never consider Cloverville home. She hated living here. I was wrong to ask her to stay until I sorted my head out."

"Did you?" he asked.

"Yeah, in the note I left her."

So once again Abby had acted out of her loyalty to her friend, not her interest in
him
. "No, did you sort your head out?"

"Yes."

"Then you did the right thing, taking time to figure things out." He needed time, too. but he hadn't had any to himself in the past eight years. "So are you coming home?"

"Yes, I'll explain everything then." Molly's breath caught as she said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry," he said. Then he lied to her. "Everything's fine."

After saying goodbye to his sister, he handed the cell back to Abby, who'd pulled on her sundress. She stood before him, her face bare of makeup, her hair tangled around her shoulders, and she'd never been more beautiful to him. And he'd never felt so weak and helpless.

To protect himself, he had to lash out. "You knew where she was all along! You knew I was worried about her, but you didn't tell me!"

"She wanted to be alone to think. She couldn't do that with you around, pressuring her."

Sure, he understood pressure; it pushed down on his chest, stealing his breath. "You should have told me."

"I couldn't betray my friendship with Molly."

"Like you couldn't betray Colleen and tell me the truth eight years ago when I was blaming you?"

"Isn't that what you're doing now?" she asked, her voice so quiet it stopped his rant more effectively than a shout. "Don't you want to blame
me
for your pulling away?"

She'd been gone eight years. How did she know him so well? Her intuitiveness increased his fear about falling for her. He wouldn't be able to keep anything from her; he had no protection from her. But his pride. "I blame myself."

She lifted her chin—pride was one of the things they had in common. Skepticism narrowing her eyes, she asked. "You blame yourself?"

"For trusting you. I should have known better." He struggled to control his voice and his emotions, saying, "You were only sticking around for Molly. Because she asked you to stay."

She shook her head. 'That wasn't the only reason."

"For the business?"

She shook her head again, then drew in a loud, deep breath and said. "For you. I love you, Clayton."

Stunned, Clayton rubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw, holding it as if she'd punched him. And maybe she had. He certainly deserved it.

Tears burned Abby's eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to cry over him. She grabbed her purse from the floor and stepped into her shoes, ready to run. "Don't worry about..."

But he caught her and held her tight, his hands warm against her skin. "I care about you, Abby. About you and Lara."

Care.
Bitterness and regret rose in her throat, choking her. She'd really thought he'd be different. "Thanks..."

"That's why I think you and your daughter deserve more, Abby. I don't have enough to offer anyone. I'm so busy."

"So busy or so scared?" she challenged him.

"Abby, you don't understand."

"Then explain it to me."

"I have this plan."

He'd always had a plan. She remembered the lists she used to find when she'd snooped in his bedroom. "I know, you said there's no room in your plan for a wife or kids."

But she'd hoped he would change the plan. For her.

Was that what she wanted? Someone else to resent her intrusion in his life? She shook her head. "No, you're right. I don't want to mess up your plans. I know from experience that you'd only come to hate me..."

He hugged her. "I could never hate you, Abby."

She pulled herself clear of his arms. "Really? I think I could hate you, if I hung around here, if I kept hoping for more. That's why I'm leaving. Today."

"What about..." The color drained from his face. "Is it possible... You and I didn't use anything this last time. Can you be...?"

She laughed, despite the pain closing in on her heart. He wanted no connection to her. Just as she had been wrong about Lara's father, she'd been wrong about Clayton, too; believing him to be the
one
man who wouldn't want to simply use her and toss her aside.

"Don't worry about having another responsibility. Clayton," she said, her lips twisting in a bitter smile. "I take care of myself. I always have."

"Abby..."

"And don't worry about the lease," she said as she headed toward the door, her legs shaking. "I never signed it."

How was she ever going to make it out of the room and down the stairs? How was she ever going to walk away from him?

She'd thought her heart broke years ago, when Mr. McClintock died and she'd had to keave all her friends behind in Cloverville. But she'd had no idea then how much pain she could feel, as she finally accepted the truth. Clayton would never be able to love her in the way that she loved him. And she deserved more.

She deserved
love.