How to Handle a Heartbreaker (3 page)

Brody hadn’t liked it then. He liked it even less now. “What do they want?”

Flynn just looked at him.

Brody swore. “Dumb question. I know. It’s just… Whenever I talk to her, I wonder what Mike will think.”

“And now you don’t have to worry. He’s over Lea. Done. Finito. And he has no designs on Abby. You heard him.”

Yeah, he had. One part of Brody breathed a sigh of relief, while the other part of him struggled to accept that his only roadblock now was the stubborn woman. Nothing to stop him from pursuing her but her objections…and the possibility of making a mess for Flynn with Maddie if he screwed things up.

On a personal note, Brody was killer good in bed and had a great reputation. Looks, charm, money. What could Abby possibly find at fault with him? “Great. Now Mike’s not an issue. I get it.” Brody hated to say it, but the truth wanted out. “Problem is, I get the feeling she doesn’t trust me. Or like me.” He shrugged. “I don’t get it. I’m hot, built, and financially set. What’s not to like?”

“Besides your ego? Heck if I know.” Flynn considered him for a moment, then leaned in and lowered his voice. “Look, you don’t know this. Maddie told me, and I’m sworn to secrecy.” But Brody was his brother. Flynn
had
to tell. It was the guy code. “Abby had a hot and heavy thing with some asshole over a year ago. He messed with her head, has her thinking she’s fat and unattractive.”

Brody could kind of see the plump reference. No way Abby was fat, but she had curves. Not a stick-thin twig, but a real woman with a body made for loving. The word
lush
came to mind. Brody had had more fantasies about her curvy body than he’d had about any woman. Ever. He might have worried that her resemblance to Lea had carried over into an unhealthy fixation, except he genuinely liked Abby as a person.

He figured after they had sex a few times, the newness would rub off. He and she could chalk up the experiences to pleasure, remain friends, and move on to bigger and better things. And maybe he’d stop thinking about her all the time.

“I know she has issues.”

“No, man. You’re not hearing me. She’s a
sexy
woman with issues, so she’s vulnerable to any guy who’ll treat her right. Who the hell wouldn’t want her? She’s smart, sweet, and really, really built.” Flynn swallowed hard. “Hey, I’m with Maddie, but I’m not dead.”

“So glad you noticed.” And there, Brody didn’t like that Flynn had taken an extra look at the woman. Since when had he ever been so possessive before? He dated casually and parted as friends. He wasn’t an asshole, just a guy with a healthy sex drive who liked variety. He shouldn’t care that Flynn thought her sexy. But he did.

“She knows Gary and Rick,” Flynn continued. “They’re decent guys, and she likes them. You know damn well they like her. How long before one of them has the balls to ask her out?”

That didn’t work for Brody on any level. “Great. So what do I do? She’s sarcastic or snaps at me whenever I try to be nice.”

Flynn gave him a baleful glare. “This afternoon you brought your monster dog into her house after it dug up her garden. Not smart.”

“I can’t help it. Mutt likes her. He’s always trying to get closer.”
Like
I
want
to.

“Do something to fix this or she’s going to be out of your reach.” Flynn paused. “I love you, man, like Maddie loves Abby. You can’t mess this up.”

Brody groaned. “You think I don’t know that? Trust me. If I could ignore my dick, I would. But any time she’s near me, I can’t think about anything but her.”
Even
when
she’s not near me, I think about her.
“It’s like, I don’t know. I
like
her, you get me?”

“Yeah, I do.” Flynn cleared his throat. “So step carefully with Abby. Just don’t let Mike—”

“Hear that you broke her heart,” Mike said from the hallway as he entered. “Or I’ll smash your face in.”

“What if she breaks my heart?” Brody asked in jest, though inside he meant every word.

“That’s what beer is for. Right, Flynn?” Mike taunted.

Flynn scowled. “You ever going to let that go?” When Maddie and he had gone through a rough patch, Flynn had tried to drown his sorrows in cheap beer. Not a pretty sight.

“Well,” Brody drawled. “Maybe if you hadn’t gotten sloppy drunk on
light
beer
, we’d be willing to overlook your girlishness. But seriously. Bud Light?”

Flynn called him a horse’s ass. Then Mike insulted Flynn’s sudden intake of estrogen, and the fight really got started when Brody happened to remind the pair that they’d agreed to watch Mutt for him in another week when he ran to Anacortes on a job—one he planned to bust his ass to finish because he needed to hurry home before he lost Abby to someone else.

He took another drag of beer while Mike put Flynn into a headlock and thought again about how best to use his resources to nail a stubborn woman he desired more than his next breath.

***

Five days later, Abby glanced at her clock and smiled. “With eight hours to spare.” She hit
send
on her computer and shot her completed manuscript to her agent. On time and within word count.
I
am
awesome.

This rounded out her four-book series, giving her a bit of latitude before she started her next project. She wanted to sing with pleasure, the heavy weight of her deadline sloughing off her like yesterday’s troubles.

“Time to celebrate.” Maddie pranced into the office she and Abby shared, waving a box of chocolates. She wore a skin-hugging black catsuit, complete with a tail and a headpiece with ears. Painted-on whiskers over her cheeks and a black nose gave her some
cute
to go with the
sexy
.

“What the slutty cat said,” Vanessa chimed in from the doorway. She had a bottle of champagne in hand and still wore her work clothes. “Let’s share some chocolate and booze and get ready for the Halloween party.”

Startled to see Vanessa in a good mood about a party, Abby stared.

“What?” Vanessa set down her stash and uncorked the bottle. Then she poured into the coffee mugs in Abby’s coffee area. “Unconventional, but it works.” She handed one to Abby, then another to Maddie. After pouring herself a glass, she lifted the mug in a toast. “To our erotic romance writer. Wishing you many sales.”

Abby and Maddie exchanged a glance. “Um, thanks?” Abby waited for Vanessa to add a snarky comment about raunchy books or smut, but her roommate tipped back her mug and drank.

Maddie shrugged and took a sip as well. “Don’t question good fortune, Abby. Run with it.”

Needing the drink, Abby took a sip. The bubbles tickled her nose. “Thanks, Vanessa.” She paused. “I can’t help it. I have to know. Not that I don’t appreciate this, but the last time I finished a book, you patted me on the back, then sneered.”

“You sneer a lot, but I do remember that particular expression on your face. Not pretty, Vanessa.” Maddie grimaced.

Abby agreed. “Then, after sneering, you told me you thought I could probably sell more if I named my next characters Dick Cocksalot and Lady Legsopen and made it a historical romance. Which you thought was just hilarious.”

As expected, Vanessa broke into a grin. “Oh come on. That’s funny…Dame Fellatio.”

“You’re horrible.” Abby had to laugh. “Don’t give up your day job.” Which was crunching numbers for a big-name corporate accounting firm.

Maddie laughed. “Legsopen. Classic.” She pointed a warning finger at her cousin. “And don’t even think of applying that name to me, Big Foot.”

“Seriously, Vanessa. I didn’t know they made heels in size gargantuan.” Abby took another swallow of champagne.

“It’s ten and a half,” Vanessa snapped. “See what happens when I try to be nice? It never works.” Vanessa finished her champagne and poured some more. “I made Joshua Taggert cry today.”

They stared at her.

“The new guy?” Abby asked. “The one who just graduated from college?”

“Yep. That’s the one. It was just…pathetic. Sure he’s the boss’s nephew, but he screwed up a major account. The only reason our client didn’t end up paying penalties through the nose was because I checked and rechecked him.” She took another drink. “Though in my defense, I wouldn’t have called him an incompetent twit if I’d known Mr. Peterman had already read him the riot act.”

“Interesting. I didn’t know
twit
was considered an insult past the fifth grade,” Abby said.

“Shut up.” Vanessa laughed. “Oh my God. It was just… Why am I always the mean one for saying the truth? How come I’m always the one with the biggest balls wherever I happen to be? And believe it or not, I really am a woman.” Vanessa looked strained.

Abby took note. “Um, I don’t think we’ve ever questioned your femininity.”

“Yeah, well, apparently if you’re assertive, you’re a bitch.”

“This isn’t news.” Maddie finished her mug of champagne and opened the chocolates she’d supposedly brought for Abby. “It’s still an all-boys club out there. Remember little old me? Sexually harassed by my boss? I quit because I knew I couldn’t win against him. Mr. Moneybags and his—”

“Small penis.” Abby had heard the story more times than she cared to remember.

“Yep. Small penis.” Maddie nodded. “Versus me—beautiful but poor designer.”

“Not so poor anymore,” Vanessa added.

Maddie beamed. “Nope. Business is getting better every day. Maybe that’s what you should do. Leave your firm and open up your own company.”

Vanessa shrugged. “Maybe. I’m happy at work, actually. I just wish everyone would perform at my level, instead of me always having to yank them up to swim next to me.”

“Swim?” Abby snorted. “More like your peers are treading water next to Ms. Corporate Shark.”

Vanessa smiled through her teeth. “Ha ha. And on that note, I’m going upstairs to put on my costume. Try not to embarrass us, would you, Abby? You are
not
wearing that bozo costume. Maddie, take care of it.”

Maddie mock saluted her. “Yes,
mein
führer
.” She laughed again. “Bossy, but you have a point.” They both turned to Abby.

“What?”

“Tonight, you celebrate,” Maddie answered. “Men will be at the party—eligible bachelors. Remember the hot electricians who ask Flynn about you almost all the time? When’s the last time you had a man, anyway?”

She blushed. “It’s been awhile. I’m fine about it.”

“No, you’re not.” Maddie looked her over critically. “But we’re not ruining tonight by mentioning asswipe again.”

Kevin. He haunted her with bad memories. What hurt was that she’d really loved him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t loved her.

“Nope. Get that miserable look off your face. I have this, Vanessa.”

“Good. If I can be a bitch and be okay with it, you can be a freak and run with it,” she said to Abby before turning on her big heel and leaving.

“Vanessa!” Maddie tried hard not to laugh. “Oh man, Abby. You are so red right now.”

“She’s such a jerk.” Abby should never have confided in her friends about her breakup with Kevin. Even her family thought they’d mutually gone their separate ways. Not that he’d dumped her because…because she wanted to explore certain
needs
.

“Yep, and that’s why we love her. Now…” Maddie circled around her, studying her like an ant under a microscope. “What to do with you. Something exotic, sexy. And no flats or moccasins tonight.”

“Oh well. I don’t have anything else to wear.” She hated heels. Comfort all the way for mundane Abby Dunn.

“Good thing I was planning on tonight for you.” Maddie smiled, her expression unnerving. The woman looked way too pleased with herself. She dragged Abby with her upstairs and into her bedroom.

Abby’s hand still curled around her mug of champagne, and she took a drink for courage. “I don’t know why you bother keeping a room here. You’re always with Flynn.”

“Yes, but this is my home. I don’t know that I’m ready to cohabitate yet. Besides, he needs a bigger closet.”

“No doubt you measured.”

“Yeah, and it’s more than six inches.” Maddie pinched her finger and thumb together.

They both laughed.

“You’re such a dork.”

“Correction. I’m a
sexy
dork.” Maddie’s grin turned sly. “And speaking of sexy… Rick and Gary won’t be the only hotties in attendance. The McCauleys will be there tonight too.”

Abby found it hard to breathe.
Brody.
“So.” She coughed to clear her throat. “Why not my hobo outfit? It’s cute and comfy.”

“It completely covers you from head to toe, not to mention it makes you look like a sack of potatoes. And that stick with the red bag on it? Get over it.”

Maddie pushed some clothing aside in her closet and pulled out a very short, very sheer Grecian-styled robe. “Ah. There we go. I bought this for you last month because I knew you’d try to wimp out at the last minute. And here we have Aphrodite. Goddess of love. You write romance. See? It fits.”

“I doubt it’s going to,” Abby whispered, stunned at how much she wanted to be a goddess for once in her life. To dress without care for how others saw her, but to be sexy in her own skin.

“That’s the point. It’s short, but so are you.”

“Not short. Petite.”

Maddie talked over her. “So it will look just shy of slutty on you. The ivory color goes well with your darker hair and fair complexion. And the deep V will show off your curves. I know you think those are your best features, but I like your eyes. I’m torn.”

“Gee, thanks. Too bad you and I aren’t dating.”

“Isn’t it though? Well? Let’s go. And no flats. You’re going in my golden heels, and that’s final.”

“Greeks didn’t wear heels.”

“Goddesses do. Come on, Abby. Treat yourself. You earned it.”

Something in Abby clicked. Halloween, her favorite holiday. A time when she could pretend to be someone else for a night and enjoy herself. She took another sip of the champagne Vanessa had thoughtfully brought. “Why the heck not?”

The party was in full swing when they arrived. A conglomerate of businesses sponsored the event every year at Muriel V’s—a popular banquet hall—and put on a real bash. There must have been a few hundred people at least, laughing and dancing.

Abby stood with Vanessa just inside the doorway, out of the way of incoming guests. Dry ice fogged the floor in spurts. Strobe and disco lights lit the expansive room. Two large bars had been set up on either side of the hall, and in the middle was a huge dance floor. Rhythmic techno pumped through the place, a deep throbbing bass that echoed within her.

In front of them, Maddie and Flynn stood arm in arm. The kitten and the cowboy. Flynn wore chaps over jeans, a half-buttoned shirt, and a tan cowboy hat. Maddie had barely looked away from him since he’d arrived at the house to take them to the party. Abby couldn’t blame her. Flynn made an amazing cowboy.

“How big is this thing?” she asked Vanessa, whose company was one of the contributors to the festivities. Vanessa wore a sexy nurse’s uniform and white stockings held up by clearly visible white garters. And Vanessa being Vanessa, she sported a nametag which read Nurse Ratched and carried a huge toy hypodermic needle filled with fake blood. “By the way,” Abby added, “your nametag suits you.”

“Well, I am surrounded by crazy people.” She pointedly stared at Abby tottering in Maddie’s too-high heels.

Normally five-four—okay, five-three and a third—she now stood at an impressive five-seven. Unfortunately, they both knew she’d fall if she didn’t continue to cling to Vanessa like a vine.

She held tight to Vanessa’s arm and shook her head, feeling the wisps escaping her upheld hair tickling her neck. “I’m in costume, peasant girl. Watch your tone. I’m a goddess.”

“You look good.” A huge compliment coming from Vanessa. “Really pretty in that excuse for a dress. But you should have eased back on the champagne at the house.” She stared at Abby’s hand wrapped around her wrist at the same time Abby stumbled.

“It’s not the booze. It’s these stupid heels.” Abby lifted her foot.

Maddie spotted her teetering on one foot and hurried back to her. “What the heck, Abby? Are you trying to flash the crowd already? Let’s warm them up, then make your move.” She glanced at a small group of men smiling widely nearby who toasted Abby with plastic cups of beer.

“Oh.” Instead of blushing, Abby smiled back. So maybe she had imbibed more than she normally would have. But damn it, she’d finished her book. She was entitled to celebrate, both her victory over her deadlines and her new status as a goddess free from mortal worry. “I am Venus, hear me roar.”

Vanessa fiddled with her stocking. “I thought you were Greek. Venus was Roman. Aphrodite was Greek.”

“Don’t rain on my parade, Ratched.” She glared at Vanessa, who laughed at her.

“You really are cute when you’re mad. Oh, wait, there’s Lissa. I didn’t know she was coming.” A genuine smile lit Vanessa’s face.

“Oh, right. Lissa, your buddy from work.”

“I’m going to go say hi. Stay here with Maddie and Flynn.”

Vanessa darted away before Abby could protest. Not that she minded Vanessa leaving, but she needed someone to hold on to for fear she’d fall flat on her face and moon the party. Since Maddie had convinced her to wear the stupid thong Abby had been saving for Mr. Right, if she did indeed fall, it wouldn’t help cover anything, let alone her wounded pride.

Flynn joined them a heartbeat later and gripped Abby’s arm to steady her. The hunky cowboy. But instead of a gun in his holster, she saw a tool.

“Have wrench, will travel?”

“Yes, darlin’. That’s the plumber in me.”

She laughed at his pitiful accent.

“Stop flirting with the goddess or I’ll scratch your eyes out.
Reowr
.” Maddie curled her hand in the air, and Abby saw she’d gotten a manicure.

“Shouldn’t those nails be white to be in character?” she asked, surprised to find herself having fun. The mood around her was contagious. Happiness reigned as the beat shifted, and she found herself tapping a dangerously clad foot in time with the music.

“Red is the color of passion,” Flynn commented. “I like ’em.”

“And the color of blood,” Maddie replied. “So stay close to me or I’ll be forced to carve up the non-felines in the crowd looking to rope a cowboy.”

He grinned widely. “Yeah? Because I saw some chick checking me out. Why don’t you take me into that closet over there and—”

“God. You two need a room, and I need a drink.” Abby yanked her arm from Flynn. “I’m not tipsy. Honestly.” She felt a little flushed but otherwise sober. Kind of. “It’s these heels. I’ll be at the bar. When you’re done doing…whatever it is you two do when you disappear…come find me.” She nodded at the bar at the far end of the room.

More crowd-goers occupied the dance floor than clustered around the bars. Yet there were plenty of partiers on either side of the massive dance area as well. She figured she wouldn’t have too much of a problem finding a seat or a drink. Not with all the guys eyeing her getup. Show a little cleavage or leg and they went crazy.

Go figure.

Abby kept her pace slow and constant and found the bar without incident. With so much other exposed female flesh on display, her allure faded as she blended with the crowd. She liked knowing that if she fell on her ass, only a few would see her embarrass herself.

“Whoa. You have got to be the prettiest thing I’ve seen all night.” The bartender whistled as she sat on a stool. “I’m hooked. What’ll you have?”

Her dress grew exponentially shorter as it hiked up her legs when she sat. Damn. The whole of her thigh showed. Then again, the lighting wasn’t that great. Who was looking? “Hmm. How about a Long Island Iced Tea?” It tasted like tea instead of alcohol, and she could get a nice buzz going on without losing her mind. She’d nurse the drink all night and enjoy herself.

“You got it.” He winked. “And in that dress, consider it on the house. I wouldn’t want to piss off the gods or anything.” He paused to find her a napkin to go along with the drink. As she looked around her, she spotted a few familiar faces. People from the neighborhood, her favorite barista, and a few of her library buddies, women she often saw when she made her rounds. “There you go, lovely.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks.” Not a bad-looking guy. He had a nice smile.

He nodded down at the drink. “Anything you need,
at
all
, you just call. Name’s Phil.” Someone distracted him away with another order.

She looked down at her drink and saw a number on the napkin. What the…? Abby peered closer, wishing she had her reading glasses.

Holy crap. He’d left his phone number. Phil J. had left her his phone number.

Her self-confidence shot up several notches.
Maybe
I
should
wear
cleavage-baring silk every day.
She sipped the drink and felt eyes on her. Thinking it was Phil J., she turned only to see Rick Jackson, a guy she’d once partied with and one of Flynn’s favorite electricians, staring her up and down with a huge grin on his face. He left the guy he’d been talking to and joined her at the bar, taking a seat beside her.

“Well, well. Abby Dunn. Fancy meeting you here.”

Rick had kind eyes and a wicked sense of humor. She liked him a lot. By the expression on his face, he liked her costume.

“You going to arrest me, officer?” she asked.

He flashed an obviously fake badge and tipped back his uniform hat. “No, ma’am. Not if you’ll finish that drink and join me on the dance floor.”

Abby sighed. Her luck. “I would, but I’d kill myself in these heels.” She sipped her drink and looked down. They sure looked glamorous, but what idiots put themselves through such torture on a daily basis to look good?

Maddie.

“Wow. That is a lot of leg for someone I hadn’t thought was that tall.” Rick held up his hands at her glare. “No, no. Not saying you’re short. Just that…” He swallowed. “In that costume, you have really,
really
long legs. Pretty legs.” He blew out a breath. “Oh yeah.”

She laughed, amused by his attention. Normally she didn’t garner more than a hello or a smile. But he and Gary had supposedly asked Flynn about her. That meant they were interested, right? “Is the goddess of love knocking you off your feet?”

Rick put his hand between the buttons of his jacket and thumped his heart. “Honey, I’m done for.”

She turned to better face him, and someone bumped into her from behind. She braced her hand on his knee just as Rick caught her shoulders, his hands warm against her bare arms. Though she’d demanded to wear a jacket in the car, Maddie had made her leave it behind, claiming Aphrodite didn’t wear wool in the winter. Now that Rick had his hands on her, Abby silently agreed.

Yet… Some part of her wanted another man’s hands instead of Rick’s. A taller, fairer, more obnoxious male whom she could cut down to size, and who should be made to worship at her feet. A man not worthy of her affections, she told herself and smiled back at Rick.

Then realizing her hand remained on his knee, she tried to pull it back.

“
Don’t.
I mean, it’s okay. You need to keep your balance.” He took a long drag of his beer. “Damn. It’s getting hotter in here by the second.” He lifted his hand and ran a finger down her neck. A forward move.

She…liked it. She felt sexy in her costume, and Rick’s admiration boosted her ego. “I put my hair up for tonight. Maddie insisted it’s more authentic.”

“It’s gorgeous. I love your hair.” Rick smiled, and she liked that the warmth in his expression reached his eyes. “So tell me about your day, Aphrodite.”

“Nice. You got it right. I’m the goddess of love.”

Rick nodded. “I was a big fan of mythology as a kid.”

“No kidding?” Enthused, Abby sipped at her drink while she and Rick engaged in a discussion about the Greeks versus the Romans. As they talked, she didn’t have to fight her inclination to look for a familiar blond head in the crowd. The drink relaxed her. In good company and trusting her friend not to molest her, she forgot her cares and her stupid crush and enjoyed a man’s company.

***

Brody wanted to smash Rick’s head in. He felt Flynn mosey next to him. “How the hell did you let her cozy up with him? The one guy, besides Gary, she might hang with?”

“Sorry, man. Abby took off. I was going after her when we saw Phil tending bar. He’s a good guy. And then Maddie, uh, well, she kind of distracted me.”

Brody turned to note Flynn’s bottom two shirt buttons gone and a few red marks on his neck. “You and your thing for public places.”

“Shut up, Brody. Maddie’s kind of shy about things. Keep it under wraps, man.”

Like Brody didn’t know everything about Flynn. The two had shared their quirks, faults, and wants for far too long to be embarrassed about them now. He understood his buddy not wanting to embarrass Maddie. Still, Flynn owed him.

“Either you get her away from Rick or I will. She’s been sitting with him for over half an hour. And look.” Brody curled his fingers into a fist. “Her hand’s on his knee again.” He took an unconscious step forward, unable to think past the need to get Abby away from a potential rival.

“Stop. I swear, that costume is going to your head. You’re not some badass in the Wild West.” Flynn eyed him up and down, a wary look on his face. “Just wait here and go with whatever I tell her. Okay?”

“Fine. Lie, cheat, steal, but if that woman isn’t right here in the next two minutes, I’m taking matters into my own hands.”

“Thought you’d been doing that anyway.” Flynn gave him a pitying glance.

Brody shot him the finger, not pleased when his friend laughed at him.

He watched as Flynn approached the bar. Flynn shook Rick’s hand while Brody turned to look as if he was perusing the crowd, trying not to seem as if he’d been shooting invisible daggers into his soon to be
ex
-friend, Rick. Flynn said something, and Abby laughed. A deep-throated chuckle that had more than one male head turning to watch her.

Jesus, she killed him with that dress. What had Maddie been thinking to pour Abby into it? According to Flynn, Maddie had thought to help Abby through a dry spell. Hello? Why had no one called
him
in to help? At least Flynn knew better than to keep him in the dark.

Abby wanted to celebrate? He’d help her party all night long. But a glance at her empty cup and the knowledge she’d already had a bit to drink gave him second thoughts. Brody and alcohol didn’t mix well, and he’d never,
ever
take a woman not sure of her sobriety. He might be a Singer in name, but never by actions. His father and brother were sure as shit going to hell. Not him.

He had no problem drinking because he had limits he never breached. Abby had already rounded the happy bus and was sliding perilously toward sloppy drunk. She could barely walk next to Flynn as they joined him.

“Hey, Abby.” He couldn’t help his husky voice. Aroused and relieved she was away from a scowling Rick, he tipped his hat at Rick and watched with good cheer as the guy stomped away.

“Where is she?” Abby asked.

“She?” Poor woman. Drunk off her ass.

She teetered again, then slapped at Flynn when he reached for her. “I’m not drunk, I keep telling you. It’s these stupid heels.”

Not drunk? The possibility of a different ending for the night immediately translated to the needy part between Brody’s legs. Oh boy. Good thing he’d foregone the chaps and wore plain denim to match his black shirt and hat.

Abby steadied herself by grabbing onto his arm and slid her feet out of her shoes. “Oh, that is
so
much better. So where’s this woman you supposedly need saving from?” Then she glanced up at Brody and blinked. “Black Bart?”

Flynn guffawed. “Told you she’d know your costume. The outlaw thing suits your personality.”

“Black is a good look on me.” He tried keeping the smile from his face. Now several inches smaller without her shoes, Abby was holding onto him, and her small hand felt soft and warm over his forearm. Even through the material of his shirt, he could tell they’d combust if they ever had any skin-on-skin action.