Make Me - Tessa Bailey Page 0,49

Abby hasn’t. You appear to be her . . .”

When Mitchell let the question dangle, Russell spoke up, discomfort transforming his features. “I’m her . . .”

Silence fell. Until Abby started to laugh. The hysterical sound bubbled from her mouth, impossible to control. There was nothing funny about any of it. Not the fact that work had followed her to the Hamptons. Or Russell—someone so important in her life—not even knowing what to call her. But the alternative was to sob and sob and never stop. So she laughed.

“I’ll be inside when you’re ready,” Mitchell called before escaping the awkwardness she’d created by striding back into the house.

“Should we give you two a minute?” Ben asked, clearly aware that it would take a bulldozer to move Russell. His arm was wrapped around her so tightly, drawing breath was a challenge, especially after her laughing jag.

“Yeah,” was all Russell said, his breath lifting the hair on her forehead.

“Screw that.” Honey crossed her arms. “How about asking what Abby wants?”

“It’s fine,” Abby forced past numb lips. “Really. Go inside and get comfortable. I’ll be in soon, sign whatever paperwork Mitchell needs signed, and we’ll get back to relaxing.”

Roxy looked inclined to argue further but didn’t. “You’ve got some killer moves, roomie. You’ve been holding out on us.”

Abby managed a smile that solidified when she heard Honey whispering on the way back into the house, “Did you know that Russell had chest hair?” Ben narrowed his eyes at his girlfriend as she passed, but the blonde only held up her hands. “Just seems like something we should have known.”

Then she and Russell were alone, and the smile on her face flickered before collapsing. It was hard to muster optimism when a discussion with one very pissed-off construction worker was on the horizon. And it wasted no time getting under way. Good thing she’d never felt more prepared.

Chapter 13

RUSSELL PACED THE edge of the pool, feeling raw, caged in. Like he’d woken up from a two-year coma, and everything he’d known no longer held true. Something was wrong with Abby—his Abby—and he’d fucking missed it. That’s all he knew. Flickers of memories from the last few weeks bombarded him, cursing him with perfect hindsight. Now he couldn’t look at her without seeing the fatigue on her gorgeous features. Where the hell had his head been? He’d failed her. Even without knowing the full story, that much was obvious. Not only had he failed her, he might have made whatever she was going through worse.

All this time he’d been trying to prevent his worst nightmare from becoming a reality when it had already been happening right under his nose. The sparkle she used to have in her eyes when looking at him was gone. Vanished, the way his mother’s had over time. History had repeated itself. Maybe there had never really been a way to avoid it. Dammit. Dammit.

A jackhammer drilled into his skull, and he massaged the spot so he could think clearly, but it didn’t help, so he hit it with a closed fist. Once, twice.

“Russell, stop.”

God, he was such a bastard. Abby looked ready to drop, and his mind kept turning to the lawyer who’d driven all the way from Manhattan to see her. Did a man do that just for some bullshit paperwork? Could anyone spend time with Abby and not covet her? No. That’s who he’d always pictured her ending up with, wasn’t it? Some suit and tie wearing chump? The image of her dancing and laughing sprung to his mind, making his throat close up. Jesus. His unbelievable girl could end up with someone else.

Russell’s entire being rioted at the possibility. “Tell me he’s only a coworker.” He braced his head in both hands, positive it was about to burst into fragments. His question was irrational, and somewhere within the chaos, he knew it. This was Abby. She wouldn’t date someone else and let him touch her at the same time. But even the idea of lawyer man asking her out broke him out in a cold sweat. “Tell me. Please, angel.”

“That’s your foremost concern?”

“It’s the one I need cleared up so I can think straight.” He dropped his hands and took a few steps in her direction. “Believe me there’s more.”

She stared off toward the beach for a minute, sixty seconds that stretched into the longest of his life, as if debating whether or not he deserved to know the truth. And he’d earned every second of agony