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“Well?”
“Not here. Not now. Alone.”
And yet she wanted to have the talk here a few minutes ago. “Tell me now.”
“No,” she says, and she starts walking toward the elevator.
And I follow, because a) she has a mighty fine ass, and b) I want to. I’m in trouble with this woman and I fucking love it.
Chapter sixty-three
Gabe
The minute Abbie and I enter the elevator, I punch in the lobby level and then drag her to me, my hand at the back of her head. “How’s this for talking?” I ask a moment before my mouth closes down on hers, my tongue licking past her lips, drinking her in, tasting her.
She pushes against my chest, moans, sinks into the kiss, but ultimately, when we reach the lobby and our lips part, she doesn’t mince words. “That’s not talking. That’s deflection. We need to talk.Reallytalk.”
“We did talk, baby. We just spoke volumes by kissing instead of yelling.”
“Talk, Gabe. Real conversation.”
“I’m all about real with you, Abbie,” I say, which is true. What I say to her is real. I just don’t say all there is to say. “And we’ll talk. At my place.”
“Yes,” she says, offering that confirmation. “At your place.”
The doors open and I lace the fingers of one of her hands with mine, leading her into the hallway and outside to our hired car. She slides into the backseat, and I follow, sealing us insidewithout missing a beat. My hand comes down on her leg and I drag her close. She doesn’t push me away. Her hand comes down on my hand, her eyes lifting to meet mine. “Gabe,” she whispers.
“Just to be clear. Are we fighting?”
Her hand settles on my cheek. “Maybe. We can decide when we get to your apartment.”
I laugh. She laughs. There is a warm intimacy between us, but it doesn’t erase the fact that she wants to have that “alone” talk. That she wants answers to questions I can only assume were created by being around my family. I kiss her hand, settling it on my leg, my hand covering hers now. She’s still going to hit me on the conversations she overheard tonight between me and Reid. She’s still going to want answers I’m not eager to offer but after the past few hours, I’m of the mind that I can’t keep as much of me to myself as I’d planned with Abbie. Not if I want her in my life. The question is, how much is too much of me, this soon, for Abbie?
A few minutes later, we pull up to my apartment, and it’s not as simple as taking her upstairs and just fucking her until she forgets why she wants because one: she’s Abbie. I want more than that with her. And two: Dexter needs to pee and eat. The damn dog who greets us with ridiculous happiness and kisses. “You’re blowing your serial killer reputation, bud,” I say, as I squat down to give him some love. “Seriously, man. You need to keep the story going.” I stand up to Abbie’s assuming stare.
“You and Dexter,” she says. “Two men with more to you than meets the eye. Is that what drew you to him?”
“I do believe you’ve hit the nail on the head,” I say, because no matter how silly the moment, there’s an element of honesty there but I still finish off with a wink and a compliment. “You mad genius you.”
Dexter barks his agreement or maybe he just really needs to pee like a Russian Race Horse. “Yes, killer,” I say. “We’re going out.” I wink at Abbie and motion to the door. “Walk with us?”
“Of course,” she says, warmth in her eyes that tells a story. She likes that I was honest. She needs honesty in her life. I want to be honest with her. Ihaveto be honest with her. In every possible way I can be without losing her in the process.
After a quick change to casual clothes, with Dexter’s supervision of course, we head out. I open the front door and Dexter darts for the hall. “Stop,” I order.
Dexter stops and looks back at me, impatience in his gaze. “Ladies first,” I tell him “Sit and wait.” Dexter proves he’s had some training because he does as he’s told; he sits and waits.
Abbie laughs. “Impressively submissive for a serial killer.” She heads into the hallway and turns to eye us both. “Come to me, you handsome man, you.”
“Me or Dexter?” I ask.
“Both of you. Come to me, you handsome men, you.”
Dexter looks up at me and whines, showing great restraint considering he wants to hurry to Abbie’s side, and with good reason. She’s fucking beautiful, all that red hair wild and free right now. Her smile touching her eyes, lighting her heart-shaped face. “Go, boy,” I say.
Dexter barks his approval again and rushes toward Abbie. She kneels and greets him and he rewards her with sloppy doggy kisses. The only woman I’d kiss after a dog. I’m pretty sure that means I’m right again. I’m falling in love. I exit to join them and help Abbie to her feet, pulling her to me, her body aligned with mine, nice and tight. “Did I ever tell you that I don’t like redheads?”
She laughs. “What are you talking about?”
