Treasured Submission (13 page)

Abigail took care with her appearance for the second evening in a row. She changed her dress twice before deciding on a form-fitting red dress which clung to her curves. After applying her makeup, she brushed her hair and fastened earrings into her earlobes. Looking in the mirror, she liked what she saw. Slipping her feet into high heels, she suddenly wondered if she might be overdressed. Before she could think about changing again, the doorbell rang. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the door and opened it, having to turn quickly and bend over to grab Cicero before he managed to streak out.

Dean took in the sight before him. He gave a soft whistle and said, "You look absolutely stunning."

Abigail straightened and turned, blushing hotly as she realized his first view of her had been her butt. Seeing the flowers he was holding, she forgot her embarrassment and smiled, her entire face lighting up. He held out the bouquet and a small bag. She took the flowers and buried her nose in the blossoms. "These are beautiful, thank you." Abigail smiled, then bent down to place Cicero onto the floor in order to have a free hand. She stepped back to let Dean enter the room and shut the door behind him. He grinned and took the flowers back, holding out the small bag.

"Go ahead and open it," he instructed, pointing to the bag. She burst into laughter as she pulled out a bag of coffee.

"What a perfect gift," she said, with total sincerity. He watched as she opened the bag slightly, taking a long whiff of the contents. The coffee was a rich, dark roast, almost black in color. "Beans are just perfect! So much better than ground coffee."

"I agree," he said, smiling. "The aroma of freshly ground beans is what makes the coffee so tantalizing." He was extremely pleased at her reaction to such a simple gift. "I thought that if you like, we could enjoy a cup after dinner."

She blushed, but nodded. "I think that's a possibility."

He followed her into the kitchen so she could put the flowers into a vase. Cicero followed them and was soon twining around Dean's legs. He bent to pick him up, grunting at the cat's heft.

"Well, kitty, you are certainly well loved." Dean said, stroking the cat and hearing Cicero purr loudly. "Someone's making sure you're not starved for either food or affection aren't they, big guy?"

Abigail laughed as she arranged the flowers and set them in the middle of the table.

"Guilty as charged," she announced, unaware the effect hearing those words had on Dean. Stepping closer, she reached out to run her hand over the cat's fur. "Cicero is definitely the man in my life and is treated like a king. It's difficult to deny him anything."

He watched as she stroked her pet and felt a sudden desire for her hand to be stroking him instead. Dean grinned and nodded, wondering if any other man on the planet could feel jealous of a cat. He took a deep breath, then bent to lower Cicero to the floor, giving a gentle push against the rather solid animal. The feline was a definite distraction, one he didn't need. "Lucky cat," he said, holding out his hand. "Shall we?"

Abby took his hand and they walked back to the front door. As she released his hand to lock it, he could see his nemesis sitting on a pillow, calming licking his paw before turning to look directly at him. Dean could have sworn the cat was laughing at him. Chuckling, he took Abby's hand again after the house was secured and led her to his car, opening the door for her. He smiled as he watched her slip inside, loving the fact that he caught a glimpse of a very attractive leg as she settled herself. Abby looked surprised when he reached across her to fasten her seatbelt, but didn't say anything as he buckled her in. He walked around and slid into the driver's seat.

"I'm not overdressed am I? I wasn't sure where we were going," Abby asked, though the fact that he was dressed in grey slacks, a white shirt and a black blazer eased her concern a bit. She admitted that he looked very handsome indeed, in spite of strands of Cicero's orange fur stuck to one side of his wool blazer.

Dean looked over at her, grinning, "You look perfect, Abby. I wouldn't want you to change a thing. Do you like seafood? No allergies or anything?"

She laughed and assured him that she didn't suffer from food allergies. "I love seafood, but always am reminded of that joke. You know—I'm on a 'seafood' diet, meaning I see food and eat it all even when I know I shouldn't."

Dean smiled at her reference and asked, "Why is that?"

"I could stand to lose some weight, but find it hard to resist food I love."

He shook his head and said, "You do not need to lose weight, Abby, you are beautiful just the way you are. Please don't tell me you are one of those women who are influenced by stupid expectations that women should look like sticks. I enjoy women who enjoy eating, and especially those who love their coffee as well."

Abby smiled and said, "Okay then. Drive on and I can guarantee I'll enjoy every morsel!"

They enjoyed the drive, and each other. Dean kept the conversation light and easy, knowing that she needed to feel comfortable with him, especially since she knew more about him from the start than most other women did on a first date.

"You have wonderful friends, Abby, I really like Samantha and Ian." Dean offered.

"Thank you. I may be a bit biased but I have to agree. They're both such great people. I'm so glad they live in the same town, I can't imagine being far away from Samantha," Abigail confessed, having worried that Ian's job might carry them to another city. She had been relieved when Ian kept Samantha in the town where she had been born, the same town Abby had settled in after her divorce.

"They are lucky as well, I assure you," Dean said, as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot. Abby started to open her door, but when Dean quickly said, "Please, allow me," she blushed but released the handle, totally unaccustomed to this type of treatment. He handed his keys to the valet and walked around to open her door before giving her his hand to help her from the car.

"This really isn't necessary. I'm perfectly capable of getting out of a car by myself," Abby assured him, though his gentle touch secretly made her feel like a piece of delicate china.

"But, you shouldn't have to. I enjoy treating a woman like a lady," Dean told her, enjoying the feel of her fingers in his. She shook her head but didn't say anything. He released her hand only to place his palm at the small of her back, guiding her to the door. As she reached to open it, Dean quickly moved to open it and usher her through. He gave his name to the hostess, who welcomed them and led them to their table.

Dean remained standing as Abigail sat, before taking a seat opposite her. He ordered a white wine after asking if she had a preference. Abby had shaken her head, feeling herself relaxing. The intimate atmosphere of the restaurant and the fact that she was out on a date being treated like a lady by a man who exuded chivalry, made her feel special for the first time in quite a while. When Dean opened a menu and handed it to her, she read down the list of offerings and thought for a moment about ordering something simple and baked.

Dean was enjoying watching her face and chuckled. "Don't wimp out on me now. I'm having the fried seafood platter. Don't be ordering some salad and making me feel unhealthy. Life is far too short for broiled fish or just dressed up lettuce leaves." He was delighted to see her smile and listen to her soft giggle.

"Well, I don't want to cause you to feel nau…um, guilty, so I guess I'll join you," Abby said, flushing at the realization she had been about to say 'naughty'. Instantly a vision of what happened to naughty children flashed across her mind and she reached for her wine glass and quickly drained it.

Dean had been well aware of the word she had cut off, and was pretty sure he could guess where her mind had wandered by the flush on her face. He smiled and refilled her glass.

When the waiter appeared, Dean ordered for both of them before Abby could open her mouth. "We'll both have a shrimp cocktail to start, and the fried seafood platter as our main course." He paused and looked across the table. "Would you share some garlic bread with me? It is one of the house specialties but I don't want to be the only one indulging."

Abby grinned, pleased at his asking, and nodded. "Bring it on, I love fresh bread." Dean smiled and ordered a basket as Abby took a sip of wine. He really did like to be in control and she found she was willing to let him be—to a point. They settled back to wait for their food, sipping from their glasses.

"I do want to apologize to you, Abigail. I was very surprised when Samantha confessed she hadn't talked to you, either about their choice to practice domestic discipline, or to warn you about the intensity of one of my lectures."

Abby blushed, looking around the restaurant, hoping that no one had heard his words. "Sh," she whispered, "You don't need to apologize for anything. Really, it's okay and I'm okay. Can't we just let it go?"

Dean saw that she was embarrassed and sighed. He sat back as their appetizers were delivered, and looked across the table. He saw Abby pick up her fork and laughed. "I find my fingers work just fine." Abby looked up to see him pick up a plump shrimp hanging on the rim of his glass, dragging it through the cocktail sauce before popping it into his mouth. With a smile, she put down her fork and followed his example. As she nibbled on her shrimp, he continued. "Abby, I know I embarrassed you and I'm very sorry."

She heard the sincerity in his voice, and though she had tried to assure him that she hadn't been affected, she finally accepted his apology. "Thank you, Dean. I appreciate your concern and am touched by your need to apologize even though I promise it really isn't necessary. Let's just have dinner and talk about something else, okay?"

Dean knew he would have to take it easy with Abby. He nodded and the atmosphere relaxed. By the time they were digging into their fried clams, they were laughing together about various subjects. He told her a little about his late wife and complimented Abby on her writing. "Janet loved your books. I think she had all of them. Are you working on anything new?" He was surprised to see her blush even redder and saw her wiggle a bit in her seat. He wondered what that was all about.

"Um, well, yes. I am working on a new series, set in the early ages of settling the West. Full of covered wagons, log cabins, Indians, the whole lot."

Dean smiled. "I bet that is interesting. I've often wondered about the incredible courage it took to give up the comfort of the known and load all your earthly possessions into a wagon. Imagine the dangers of the wilderness, not knowing what might happen. I can't imagine it taking months and months to go across the country when we can drive it in just a few days. It must have been remarkable to come through a mountain pass and see untouched land in a valley spread out before you. Maybe I was just born a few decades too late."

Abby smiled as she realized he was expressing her own feelings. "That's exactly it. I love researching and weaving authentic details into my books. I let my characters develop and they usually take off in directions that I hadn't originally intended…"

Dean saw her blush as her words trailed off. He grinned and said, "Is that what's happening now, Abby? Are your characters taking off for places yet unexplored by you?"

Abby looked up and wondered how he could possibly know where her afternoon spent writing had led her. Her mind was, of course, on the most recent tangent her book was taking. She smiled at him, "Well, you'll never know unless it actually gets published."

His eyebrow lifted. "Why wouldn't it be?" he asked, knowing that Abby was a very well-loved author.

She seemed to hesitate and then answered softly. "Well, I'm exploring a bit with this one. I'm adding a bit more… um, spice, I guess you could say. I'm a bit worried my publisher might be a little shocked."

He laughed, absolutely enchanted by this woman. "I'm even more intrigued with your confession," he said, wondering if her definition of 'spice' included anything she had learned during his lecture or in talking with Sam. Dean loved the look on her face; her cheeks flushed a light pink and her eyes sparkling with both amusement and a bit of defiance. "Good for you, Abby," he said with a grin. "I'm willing to bet your readers will be thrilled, and your publisher surely knows that life is enriched by adding a bit of spice."

"I guess we'll find out," she said, with a soft giggle and a shrug of her shoulders. "If you are correct, I'll make sure to give you one of the first copies, if you'd like."

"I'd like that very much, Abby," Dean said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I'll want it autographed, of course."

Abby was saved from answering as the waiter came to clear their plates, both of which were empty. Abigail had taken him at his word, tucking into her dinner with gusto. He looked over at her and asked, "Dessert?"

She hesitated a moment before shaking her head. "No thanks, I ate far more than my share of that delicious bread. I really shouldn't make a bigger pig of myself."

Dean reached across the table and took her hand. "Abby, don't talk about yourself that way. You are a beautiful woman and don't need to change a thing about your looks."

"Thank you kind Sir, but I am rather stuffed." He patted her hand and turned to the waiter.

"We'd like the largest piece of chocolate cake you have, but please wrap it to go." The waiter smiled and nodded before moving away. Dean turned back to Abby, "I thought maybe we'd go back to your house, brew up some of that coffee and share dessert. Does that sound good for you?"