Dirty Charmer (The Bodyguards 1) - Page 63

I start to turn him down, but Abby interjects.

“You should play.” She gestures to the stain on her dress. “I have to get some cold water on this anyway. Then I’ll come right back and watch you.”

And she says it in a way that makes me think she’d like to watch me do other things. Naked things.

Or maybe I just enjoy connecting Abby to naked every way I can.

“All right.” I nod, jogging across the yard as she heads into the house.

But about ten minutes later when Abby still hasn’t come back, I bow out of the game and go looking for her. I find her coming out of the kitchen—almost colliding into me as I was about to go in.

“There you are. I was just—”

Her eyes are too shiny, her mouth too taut, her skin a shade too pallid.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Abby shakes her head—lying to me. “I’ve been called into the hospital—I need to head out.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“No, don’t be silly.” She puts her hand on my chest. “You should stay here with your family. I’ll take a taxi. It’s fine, Tommy.”

But it’s not fine. Nothing about her right now is fine. She’s skittish and devastated—a sad little bird who can’t fly away fast enough.

Outside, I hail a cab for her. Standing in the open door, Abby reaches up, pressing goodbye lips to mine.

“Ring me when you’re home,” I tell her.

She forces a smile for me, then climbs in.

I watch her drive off and then I turn back towards the house—like a volcano ready to spew. My blood is hot, livid—not just about the mean-girl bullshit from my sisters and mum, but at myself.

Because whatever cut into Abby, it happened on my watch.

And that shit does not fucking happen on my watch.

When I walk into the kitchen, they’re all there—cackling like witches around a cauldron. My voice is deceptively level but sharp as a blade, shutting their mouths the second I start speaking.

“I thought you knew me. I thought you knew me well enough that I didn’t need to tell you she means something to me—that bringing her here already said that loud and clear. But apparently that’s not the case, so I’m saying it—she’s fucking important to me.”

I jab a finger at Janey, where she’s sitting lock-jawed stubborn at the table.

“You fuckin’ knew that more than anyone.”

“Mind your mouth,” my mother bites out.

Janey’s eyes drop to her hands on the table, telling me if she doesn’t feel badly already, she will very soon. Bridget and Fiona have the heart to look contrite as well.

My mother, on the other hand, stands straight and unrepentant, and I know that she was the ringleader—that my sisters were unwelcoming to Abby because she told them to be. And whatever nasty swipe sent Abby running, it came from her.

“What did you say to her?”

She dries her hands on a towel and shrugs. “Only the truth—that she’s got no business being here with you. That the two of you are just wasting your time.”

I want to put my hand through the goddamn wall.

“You don’t even know her. You have no idea how hard it was for her to come here today, but she did it. She did it for me.”

Because I promised her it would be fun. I told her this is how real families are, what they do. Fucking Christ.

“You’re a working man, Tommy—you’ll be one until the day you die. A working man’s life is only sorted when he’s got balance. When he’s got a partner taking care of all the demands that need doing that he doesn’t have time for because he’s out working himself to the bone. You think it’s easy? Running a house, raising a family, making a home. It takes grit and sweat . . . and that girl doesn’t know the first thing about it. She’s all about herself, her career—she’s not for you, lad. Her type can’t even boil water and they have no desire to learn.”

I scrape my teeth against my lip, trying to keep in the harsh words that are busting to get out . . . that I won’t be able to take back.

“You know, Mum—I always knew you were hard. Tough. But I never thought you’d be small.” I shake my head. “That is truly disappointing.”

I throw up my hands, disgusted with the lot of them. And then I walk out the door.

Bridget calls after me, “Tommy, wait.”

“Let him go,” I hear my mother say. “When he sees reason, he’ll come back.”

* * *

The next afternoon I meet up with Abby on a bench outside the hospital on her break. It’s a sunny day, clear skies, but chilly. Her cheeks are freshly pink from the cold and she’s looking sexy and sweet in light blue scrubs, a puffy coat and a knit cap on her head.

Tags: Emma Chase The Bodyguards Romance
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