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“Yeah,” Michael laughed. “He was stubborn, all right. But I helped out a lot and made sure he was always comfortable during his last days. The two of us, we got along really well.”
Sorrow glinted in Abby’s eyes, and she looked at her feet. When she spoke, she did so quietly. “I’m sorry that we weren’t there to help you. I’ve felt so bad about not being there for him, but he never reached out to us to let us know his health was declining. We didn’t even know until it was too late.”
“Hey,” Michael said softly. He reached out and curled a finger under her chin, lifting it until she was looking at him again. The spark he felt on contact trembled in his very core, and by the startled look in Abby’s eyes, he knew she felt it, too. “Let’s not get caught up on that, okay? I’m not here to scold you. I promise.”
“Let’s start over,” Abby said. She tilted her head away and took a little step back. A beat of silence passed between them, and then she broke it. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
Michael grinned. Restarting the conversation was cute. “I came around to see if you needed any repairs done on things in the house. I know firsthand that it’s not in the best condition.”
Abby’s eyes lit up, and she smiled at him. The way her full lips curled and parted to expose the tiniest sliver of pearly whites melted his heart. If she were a shifter, Michael knew she’d have been able to smell his adoration on the air. It was thick and unavoidable.
“Really?”
“Really.” Michael nodded. “And I’ll do my best to keep everything looking original, too. No garish changes. All rustic and natural looking.”
“Well, there are a lot of things that need to be fixed.” Abby stepped out of the doorway and invited him inside with a sweep of her hand. “Maybe we can talk about it over coffee?”
Michael couldn’t have asked for anything more.
He followed her into the familiar house and took a look around. Since Carlson had died, nothing had changed. All the carpets were the same, frayed at the edges and paled by time, and the old blinds and curtains from the seventies were still hanging by the windows. The difference was that Carlson had kept the curtains open and let the light stream through.
Abby had them closed.
How was it that a creature as gorgeous as she was would want to avoid the sun? Michael remembered the hurt in her eyes when he’d brought up her reasons for being in town, and he wondered what she was hiding. It had to be more than Carlson’s death, he thought.
Someone had hurt Abby, and she was hiding away because of it.
More than anything, Michael wanted to see her smile again.
The two of them walked to the kitchen, and Michael took a seat at the wobbly kitchen table as Abby occupied herself by putting the kettle on to boil. As she worked, he watched her. Even in jeans and a T-shirt, she looked fantastic. Her brown hair was down, and although it wasn’t styled, he thought it was beautiful.
Healthy, glossy, thick…
Michael imagined running his fingers through it. Would she tremble in delight at his touch? Press against him, so close he could pick up on her scent, and then—
“Do you take cream or sugar in your coffee?” Abby asked, stirring him from his thoughts. She was standing at the fridge.
“Cream,” Michael said. “Lots of it.??
Abby brought the cream to the table, and with it she brought a small bowl of sugar. The kettle started to whistle, and she made two cups of instant coffee and brought them over. Even the coffee cups were the same. Michael’s heart ached for the old man he’d lost.
That they’d both lost.
Abby settled at the table and for a while awkward silence settled between them. Michael had never felt so tongue-tied around a woman.
The tiger in him hadn’t been so wild and unruly since his youth.
“So,” Abby said. She spooned sugar into her coffee, but didn’t touch the cream. Michael helped himself to the cream, and soon the black coffee had turned a light brown. “Did you, um, did you like living here?”
“I did.” Michael smiled. “Your grandfather and I used to go out in the woods together, did you know? I swear, that old guy loved it more than I did, and there are few things I love more than exploring the woods around Cub’s Cove.”
“I always thought grandpa hated the woods,” Abby said. She wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee and let it warm her palms. “When we were kids, he used to always warn my brother and me not to go out exploring too far, because there were dangerous animals in the woods. We never listened to him, of course. Who did? We were just kids.”
The way she smiled lit up the whole room, and Michael felt like he’d known that smile forever. He listened as she spoke, eager to soak up every word.
“We played in those woods day in and day out when we were younger. My friends and I used to pretend we were adventurers, or sometimes fairies. That’s silly, right? All of those make-believe things that don’t really exist.”
“Right.” Michael scratched at the back of his head. It was clear that Abby didn’t know anything about his world, just like her grandfather hadn’t.
