Page 49 of Just My Luck

My fingertips brushed across my breasts and down my belly. I imagined Abel on his knees before me, licking his way up my leg to my thigh. His calloused hands would spread me open before his mouth teased and sampled. My breath came out in sharp pants as my fingers slipped between my legs, wishing they were his. I had no doubts Abel King would be a steadfast and thorough lover.

I bit back a moan as I brought myself to the edge with thoughts of his mouth and hands all over me. The moment I imagined how my pussy would stretch around his dick, I was done for.

Water flowed over my shoulders in rivulets as I came to the memory of our kiss and the picture of him easing his cock deep inside me.

Despite the steam and heat from the shower, I was more keyed up than ever. Pushing aside all thoughts of Abel, I made quick work of washing up and slipping into a fresh pair of jean shorts and a T-shirt.

Quietly, I slipped out of the house and into my car. I had the time it took to make a quick trip to and from town to figure out how the hell I was going to maintain a responsible, workingfriendship with Abel when every cell in my body wanted to be reckless.

“This is... not my favorite.”Tillie pushed the roasted broccoli to the side as my eyes went wide.

“Tillie...” I attempted to employ my bestmom lookas I stared at her.

She shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s not okay. I just don’t like this dinner. It’s not my favorite.”

Beside me, Abel had his elbows on the table, hunched over his plate. I noticed that he ate quickly and without looking up. I wondered if his hunched shoulders were a protective way he’d learned to eat in a prison hall.

My heart ached for him.

He quietly chuckled and shook his head at Tillie’s assessment of his cooking as I gritted through my teeth. “Thank you, Till, for that unsolicited opinion. Please remember that Abel took his time to make this dinner for us, and we should be appreciative of that fact.”

She pushed a forkful of Rice-A-Roni around her plate as her face soured. “Sorry.” She looked glumly at her plate.

“It’s all right,” Abel said, dismissing her blunt assessment of his cooking. “I’ve never really cooked for other people, so I’m still learning.”

Abel sat back and looked around the dinner table.

I went to touch his arm, to reassure him, but he moved it. Instead of making contact, I dropped my hand and fiddled with the hem of my shorts.

“Where did you learn how to cook?” Ben finally asked.

“Um...” Abel shifted in his seat as his eyes flicked to mine. “Actually I learned when I was...”

Both children looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. It was clear to me Abel was avoiding having to say where he learned to cook, when it dawned on me.

Prison.

My brain scrambled to cover for him when he cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “This guy named Willie Hampton taught me. He was an incredible cook. He could make really good food from the worst ingredients.”

“I think I’d like to know how to cook one day.” Ben looked hopefully at Abel, and my heart squeezed.

Abel nodded once, and my heart tripped over itself. “I can show you sometime.”

Clearing the emotion from my throat, I saw my daughter’s eyes brighten, and she looked at Abel. “What’s the best part of your day, Abel?”

He looked between her and me.

I smiled and explained, “This is something we do at the dinner table. We all share one bright spot in our day. If you don’t want to or?—”

His jaw flexed, and he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got one.” His attention was on my daughter. “Uh, I guess the best part of my day was gardening with your mom.”

A prickly thrill danced up my back. The “best part of the day” conversation was something I’d done since the kids could talk. It was my way of forcing myself to remain positive and think about all thegoodin our lives. It wasn’t easy sharing that with an outsider.

“Now you have to ask someone.” Tillie beamed at Abel with an encouraging nod.

“Ben, what was the best part of your day?” Abel looked at my son and patiently waited for him to answer.

Ben pushed around the breaded pork chop before dunking it into apple sauce and stuffing it into his mouth. Around the food, he answered, “Probably that my friend Drew from library camp also likes the same video game and said he would friend me on there. What’s the best part of your day, Mom?”

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