Page 85 of Sweet Talking Man


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''And not Saturday, either. That's the wedding and I'll be busy all day".

Something inside him sank at the thought of not seeing her for several days. He craved having her with him. Holding her made his day complete. “You don't need a handsome man to escort you to the wedding, by chance?"

She glanced up, a flicker in her eyes. "It's not a date thing. The wedding is really small with just family and a few close friends."

"Is Cal going?" He hated himself for asking, but nasty jealousy had already knocked down his veneer of not giving a damn about what Abigail did or didn't do.

''Are you jealous?"

Hell, yeah.

But he didn't say that. He remained quiet, his insides reverberating with hurt at the thought she didn't want him to meet her family. Didn't want him beside her as a close friend. It made him feel small and shamed. Hadn't they grown beyond a hookup? He'd thought so. He'd hoped so. "I'm not jealous because I have no right to be, right?"

Abigail's looked as if she didn’t know what to say. Finally she sighed and said, "Look, if you want to go, you can."

But she didn't sound convincing. It was as if she were throwing him a bone she didn't want to give up. ''No. It's not about the wedding. No guyswantto go to a wedding. I just want to be with you. We don't have to advertise the fact we screw our brains out nightly." As soon as he uttered the words, he wanted to kickhimself. He sounded needy.

“Come on, Leif," she said, sliding a hand onto his bare shoulder, stroking him in a motherly fashion that annoyed the crap out of him. He shrugged her touch away. "It's not that I don't want you there. It’s just that I can't open myself up to speculation. You're going to leave Magnolia Bend - you said you were - but I'll still be here with a shredded reputation."

"Who gives a shit? Everyone does what we’re doing.”

"My family is well-respected. I have a daughter."

''Oh, I forgot. I'm the son of a slutty murderess."

"That's not what I said. Don't put words in my mouth." Her tone had hardened, and he hated that his insecurity had brought this between them. But he couldn't seem to help himself.

"Why are you so worried about what people think? Is it because I'm too weird? Or that I’ve had sex with more than a single person in my life? Is that it? You don't want people to suspect you're doing the wacky art teacher?”

"Leif…”

''No, I get it. They'd talk aboutyou,and you can't stand anyone seeing you as human. Would mess up the whole Perfect Abigail thing you have going."

"People don't judge men. They judge women. You'd leave, and I'd be the same pathetic loser who couldn't keep yet another man. You walking away would prove that. I don't want to be that woman. Again.”

“You have some major esteem problems, don't you? Do you think everyone in this town is concerned about what you do? Life's too short to worry about this crap,” he said, rising and slipping on his drawstring pajama pants. Inside, his anger grew and being naked felt more vulnerable than normal. He needed pants for this conversation.

"I don't think everyone's watching and waiting for me to mess up. It's not just about my image. I have heart problems. Love has never worked out for me," she said, her words falling like the first flakes of snow, a stinging harbinger.

For a moment, he felt regret. Abigail had been hurt and embarrassed. Still, her past was no excuse for avoiding a future. She wanted to protect herself, hiding what she felt from the world because if no one saw her vulnerability, they couldn't see her world fall apart when love didn't work out for her.

That was a chickenshit way to live. Sure, his relationships hadn't worked out so well to date, but at least he jumped in with both feet expecting them to.

Leif stared at her, trying to figure out how to shelve his hurt and help her through her insecurities. But he couldn't stop the emotions rollicking through his body.

Her attitude about him hurt.

Abigail released a pent-up breath. "Look, I don't want to leave like this. Maybe I am being selfish, but I like what we have. This has been good. Why change it?" She waved her hand, turning her head to look around their exotic getaway that cloistered them from reality and tucked them into the fantasy they'd created just for themselves.

She wanted to stay hidden and he was an enabler. Being with Abigail had been so good that he’d not cared, but now for some reason he did. "So you like sneaking around, screwing me and then showing up at church the perfect mother, daughter, and sister? That’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”

She recoiled as though he'd slapped her. "Is that what you think? I’m a hypocrite because I don’t flaunt you in front of the town.

He shrugged a shoulder and said nothing.

The tangled sheets and sweet intimacy they'd experienced moments ago evaporated. Suddenly this thing they'd avoided for weeks was out there. The idea that Abigail wanted to keep getting action from the resident-what had she called him the night Cal had come home? Lothario. Yeah. In Abigail's mind he was good for one thing... but not good enough to stand beside her in public. “I’m like a drinking or drug addiction. You’re using me to feel better and hiding your ‘problem’ from the world.”

"I'm not using you. You know that. We agreed on this arrangement from the beginning. Why are you upset now?"

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