Page 27 of Coming Up Roses
My arms tighten around her. I don’t mean to do it, but I can’t help it.
“Oh,” she whispers. “Except for my first day here, I suppose.” She lifts her head again, a sheepish look on her face.
“You used to have them more often?”
Abigail nods. “After Sadie had her accident—do you know about that?” I nod and she continues. “After that, I’d have one whenever I was supposed to be looking after Sadie. It got to the point Dallas couldn’t leave us alone together. I … I kind of lost all reason. The anxiety spiralled into every aspect of my life. That’s why I left them.”
I hold my breath as she speaks. I can’t believe she’s telling me all this. Abigail seems to keep things close to her chest. Shedoesn’t like accepting help, and here she is, still wrapped in my arms, spilling her heart to me. As her voice breaks over her last words I resist the urge to pull her even closer, to tell her it’s all okay now. I’m saved from having to say anything at all, because she’s still talking.
“I moved back to my parents’ place and went to therapy. Alotof therapy. I started taking medication. It took a year just to figure out which one was best for me and then another six months to fine-tune the dosage.” She pauses for a long moment. “I thought I was ready. My therapist thought I was ready. I’ve worked so hard. Everything was going well.”
I smooth her hair back as she looks up at me again, her expression wary. I tuck the dark, silky locks behind her ear. “You are ready, Abigail,” I whisper. “Everything is going well. It’s a blip. You’ve got this. I know you do.”
She bites her lip and I slide my hand into her hair to keep myself from using my thumb to tug it free. Fisting her hair seems like the safer option, even though it’s also dangerous. I’m playing with fire where this woman is concerned.
“I’m sorry I cried all over your shirt,” she says, dragging a hand down my chest, trailing her fingers over the wet spot over my pec.
“It’s fine.” My voice is so gruff she glances back up at me. I have to let her go; I have to step away. The situation is becoming dire because I donotwant her to realise the effect she’s having on me. I tilt my head back and stare at the rafters before taking a deep breath and telling my dick to calm the fuck down. She’s crying for god’s sake. I squeeze my arms tight around her for a final time, then force myself to let go and stepback.
“So, no ride then?” I ask, willing my voice to come out normal. I step towards Paddy to give him a pat, and hide the bulge in my jeans.
“No riding.”
“Do you have other plans?”
“I might go finish tidying up from last night. Save me doing it tomorrow.”
“I have another suggestion.” What am I doing? I’m supposed to be getting away from her. This idea is a Flynn-special for its level of stupidity too, but if I leave Abigail alone, she’s just going to stew on what happened. She’ll probably cry again. I can’t have that.
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Abigail steps up beside me and unties Paddy’s lead rope. I cross my fingers that she doesn’t look down.
“How do you feel about a ride of a different kind?” Fucking hell could I have made that sound any more sleazy? “My bike, I mean.” I can feel heat rushing up my throat, which means my face is about to turn bright red. Spectacular. “We could take my bike for a spin. You’re dressed more appropriately today.”
And now I’m thinking about her on my bike in a tight skirt and sky-high heels and miles of bare thigh and her hot body pressed against my back.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is not helping the boner situation.
Abigail’s mouth curls into a wicked smile. She’s laughing at me and I can’t even be mad because I totally deserve it.
“You don’t have anything else to do?”
“Nothing,” I mutter, trying to think of the most unsexything ever but my brain is still stuttering over images of the other day.
“I—I don’t know …” She trails off and I glance at her. “I should go clean up.”
“You weren’t going to be doing the cleanup today if you went riding with Katie and Sadie.”
She purses her lips and I mentally slap myself. She’s trying to get out of it and I shouldn’t be pushing the issue.
“It’s okay,” I say, stepping away. I shoot her a smile but it’s not my usual. I bet she can tell too. “Maybe another time, if you want.” I spin to walk away but her hand catches my wrist.
“Wait, Flynn. Yes. Please. Let’s go riding.”
I study her, searching for any hint that she’s just humouring me. I get it. There is no discernible reason a woman like her would want to hang around a guy like me.
“You sure?” I ask eventually.
“I’m sure. I need to get out of my head, so let’s go freak me out about something else.”
