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Authors: Christina Smith

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BOOK: Finding Abigail
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“Where does
this client live?” I asked, taking a sip of beer.

“Ohio. He sent me the plans for the kitchen, and he picked the style off of my website.”

“Cool. Do you
know a lot about computers?” He could be useful someday.

His brows
creased. “Some, why?”

“Just
wondering.”

He took a foil
pouch of what I guessed was potatoes off of the grill and placed them on a
plate on the table. “So, Anna,” he said after he set the steak on the plate
with the potatoes.


Yes?

“I know we
haven’t known each other very long, but I’d say we get along well enough, don’t
you think? I’d even consider us friends.”

What was
happening? “Uh, sure, what are you getting at?”

“I know we had
an agreement, but I have come to consider you my friend and when one of my
friends is in trouble, I help.”

A weight
settled onto my chest. “Noah, I told you I’m fine—”

He leaned over
and touched his finger to my lips to silence me, but it wasn’t his finger that
stopped me, it was the shock of what his touch did to me. My stomach twisted,
my skin hummed. I once feared this man, why was I reacting this way?

“No. Listen to
me. The first night we met, you hit me and ran away terrified. You wouldn’t
tell me who you were, and then my grandmother tells me to protect you. You keep
a bat in your room. When you found out that Sam was a cop you ran. Plus you
told Kathy you were from Chicago, when I know you’re from New York state. And
the first few times we met, you were afraid of me.”

I gulped in
air, scared of what was about to happen.

He leaned in
closer, his face just inches from mine. He was wearing his spicy cologne, but
the smell of wood was still there. “I want to help if I can; all you have to do
is tell me what’s going on,” he whispered, so close to me I felt his breath on
my skin.

The urge to
tell him everything, to let someone in was so strong, but I bit my lip to stop
myself. “Can you back up?” I asked. When he did, I stood up, moving over to the
edge of the deck, watching a seagull dive for a fish in the water. “Noah,
you’re sweet to worry about me, but I told you, I fine. Now hurry up, I’m
starving and you owe me a steak.” I was trying to lighten the mood; the
conversation had gotten way too tense. I couldn’t help think of the sincere
emotion in his eyes as he stared at me.

He gazed into
my eyes for a few seconds before smiling. “We both know you’re lying, but just
know that I’m here if you need me. I won’t ask you again.” Then clapping his
hands together he announced, “Okay, let’s eat.”

It really was a
great meal, definitely better than my frozen meal would have been. Afterward,
we sat outside watching the water with a glass of wine. The only sounds were the
waves crashing against the dock, the bugs hitting the porch light, and the
sound of frogs croaking in the distance. No sirens, car alarms, or anyone
yelling on the street. I could definitely get used to country living.

“You did not!”
I cried, surprised at what he had just told me.

“Yes I did.”

“You did not
moon your teacher in high school.”

He swallowed
his wine then laughed. “I did.”

“But why?”

“Because he
yelled at Sam.”

“That’s the
stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You mooned your teacher because he yelled at
your friend? I don’t buy it.”

“Well, that,
and maybe I was bored. There’s not a whole lot to keep kids entertained in a
town this size.”

“You did it
because you were bored?” He nodded. “Teenage boys are so dumb.”

“It’s true,
they are. But come on, you had to have done some dumb things yourself when you
were a teenager.”

I thought back
to my teenage years, trying to remember doing anything stupid. “Not that I can
think of.”

“You never blew
off school to go shopping or something else girlie?”

I rested my
glass on my knee as I thought some more. “Nope.”

His face was
full of shock. “You never got drunk at a party and woke up in somebody’s
doghouse?”

“That happened
to you?” I asked, laughing.

His eyes
creased as he grinned. “No, that happened to Sam. One night, we were at a
party, he was getting kind of drunk. One minute he was there, the next he
wasn’t. I looked for him most of the night, scared out of my mind. I was
sitting on his porch the next day, sure that he was dead, when I saw him
walking over from the Hendersons’ back yard. He said he woke up in their
doghouse, and had no idea how he got there.”

I laughed and
laughed. That was about the funniest story I had ever heard. God, it felt good.

He nudged my
elbow, shaking me. My wine sloshed in my glass. “There’s got to be one thing,
something impulsive?”

“No, I drank in
high school, but never really got that drunk. And I was always home by my
curfew.”

He looked
shocked and disappointed, and then he grinned, his eyes full of mischief. “Have
you ever gone skinny dipping with a near stranger?”

I laughed as he
looked at the water, then back at me wiggling his eyebrows. “No, I’ve never
been skinny dipping before.”

His jaw
dropped. “You haven’t. Well, that settles it then.” He stood up, peeling his
shirt off over his head, exposing a smooth sculpted chest that I had to pry my
eyes away from.

“What are you
doing?” Was that panic or excitement that I was feeling?

“We’re going
skinny dipping. Don’t worry, I won’t look. I’ll shut the lights off and turn
around while you take your clothes off, as long as you don’t peek at me.”

“I am not going
skinny dipping.” My voice was shrill. “First of all, I hardly know you and the
water will be freezing.”

“No, don’t
think about it. Just do it, one impulsive act once in your lifetime.” Now he
was pulling his socks and shoes off. “It’ll be liberating.” He was about to
undo the button on his jeans.

“Will you stop
taking your clothes off? We don’t even have towels.” Okay, it was panic. My
heart was in my throat, and I know I sounded slightly hysterical.

“It wouldn’t be
impulsive if we had towels.”

He flicked the
light off before walking toward the water, tugging at his jeans. He was about
to pull at his boxers when I turned around. Then I heard a splash behind me.

“Come on, the
water is so refreshing.”

Nothing in my
life had prepared me for this. I was miles away from home, in a town I didn’t
know, and now I was about to go skinny-dipping with a stranger. For some
reason, when I laid it all out like that, the panic turned to excitement. I was
not Abby Watson an abuse victim from Renwood, New York, who didn’t have an
impulsive bone in her body. I was Anna Smith, and I could be whatever I wanted
to be, and right now that was impulsive.

“Fine, but turn
around.” I watched as he turned, facing the cottage across the lake. I hoped no
one was home and looking over here. I stripped quickly then ran into the water
before I changed my mind. It was freezing, but fun. I didn’t realize how free
it felt to be naked in the water. I walked up beside him making sure everything
was covered, and that it was dark enough, so he couldn’t see through the water.
“So?” he asked, as I stood a couple feet from him.

“It’s awesome,
but just keep your distance.” My teeth chattered, making my words almost
inaudible.

His arms spread
out pushing through the water. “Why, are you ashamed of your body? Because you
shouldn’t be, it’s very sexy.” He winked, and damn it, I blushed. I really
didn’t want to.

“How would you
know that?”

“Well, I did
see quite a bit of it when you answered the door the morning after we met.”

Oh right, he
saw me in a tank top and undies. So much had happened since then, that it
seemed like a long time ago. I felt myself blush again at the memory, which was
ridiculous considering I was naked in a lake with someone I hardly knew. This
was so not me. Debbie would be proud.

We waded
through the water for a few more minutes, until Noah said, “Okay, that was fun,
now let’s get the hell out of here, it’s freezing.” His teeth were chattering,
his lips blue.

I was ducked
down, up to my neck, trying to keep warm. The water was cold, but the spring
crisp air touching my wet skin was like ice. “What? Are you kidding, after all
that talk about how I should be more impulsive and daring?”

He nodded,
stepping closer. “We did it, and now it’s cold, so I’m getting out. We’ll wait
a few weeks before we do this again, then it will be much warmer. The point is
you threw caution to the wind, and did something you wouldn’t normally do. I’m
proud of you.”

It was strange
that his words created a warm glow inside me. Why would I care if he was proud?
I hardly knew him. “Thank you. But let’s go. You’re right, I’m cold. Turn
around.” When he did, I raced up the beach, tugging my shirt on quickly. It
covered me enough that I told him he could come out. I was pulling my pants on
facing the cottage.

“Don’t peek.
But if you do, remember the water is freezing.”

Understanding
what he meant, I started to laugh as I struggled with my jeans against my wet
skin. I didn’t peek, but I heard a zipper just before I managed mine. He was
much faster at this.

I left shortly
after, going home and running a hot bath to warm up. Lying in the tub, I
realized how much fun I had with him. I didn’t think I had ever talked and
enjoyed myself with a man before. I liked Nick before he turned abusive, but we
never really talked like I did with Noah. I had been reluctant to become
attached to anyone. I had only been here a short time and already, I had two
friends. My mind told me to end both of those friendships now, but my heart,
the part of me that missed my family so much, told me to embrace this new life
that I had found, and be happy. I deserved it, didn’t I? Now that I had decided
to listen to my heart, I realized how lucky I was to know that in my new life I
could not only be safe, but happy.

 

 

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

Mable’s

 

I worked on my
book the following morning for a few hours. I wanted to get the first draft
done by the end of the week. And when I had it finished I was going to find
away to send it to Debbie without Nick finding me. How, I had no Idea, but I
would think of something.

The diner was
full when I arrived; only a few tables were open. Most of the faces were
familiar from the picnic Sunday, but no names came to mind. The white-tiled
floor had cracks snaking through many of the squares. The walls were red with
accents of white knicknacks and pictures placed all over the area. The smell of
butter and meat wafted around the large room. A happy pop song floated out of
hidden speakers as I looked about for Kathy.

She was in a
booth at the back waving at me. I found my way over, passing a man with bushy
eyebrows and a long narrow nose. His hair was as black as ink and he was
watching me. His companion was a short stout woman with short curly hair the
color of wheat. She turned to see what he was looking at, and when she saw me
walking past them she narrowed her eyes at him and hit their table with a thud
to get his attention. I quickened my steps, thankful when I made it without any
issues with the people behind me. “Hi,” I said as I slipped into the booth
across from her.

“You’re just in
time, I just sat down.” She handed me a menu. “So what do you want?”

I glanced down
at the booklet in front of me. It was about six pages long, and as far as I
could see, besides fries, salads, and burgers, the main meals were pies.
“You’re the expert. What do you recommend?”

She was dressed
in a crisp white blouse. Her red hair was up in a short pony tail and her green
eyes sparkled as she spoke. “Well, Mable’s is famous for two things.” She held
up one finger, her nails painted a bright pink. “Her coffee.” She held up
another. “And her pies, any kind of pie. You should try the chicken, you won’t
regret it.”

With my elbow
on the table, I leaned my head on my hand, reading the short blurb about the
homemade chicken pot pie. It did sound good. “A chicken pie, I’ve never had one
before.”

She grinned,
yanking my menu out of my fingers and tossing it behind her on the bar. It
smacked on to the black and white Formica. “Then you’re in for a treat.”

“All right,
that’s what I’ll have.” I placed my purse on the cushioned bench next to me.

“I’ll be right
back.” She disappeared into the kitchen to place our orders. As soon as she was
gone, the man with the black bushy eyebrows arrived. He placed a pen and a
white napkin on the table. “Can I have your autograph?” His voice was deep and
gravelly.

My stomach
dropped. People didn’t usually ask that of me. Yes, when news of the movie
coming out hit the media, my face was on a couple shows, but since it opened,
it became more about the actors, and I was thankfully forgotten. I never in a
million years expected this request from someone in such a small town. “I...I’m
sorry, I think you’re confused.” I blinked up at him. “Why would you want my
autograph?”

BOOK: Finding Abigail
11.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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