Page 51 of Just My Luck

I eyed him as he moved through the space. His frame was bulky and commanding, but he moved with the ease of a jungle cat. Every move was calculated and graceful.

Once I sipped the wine, I closed my eyes and let its flavors wash over my tongue. I thought back to our last few days together. The stress of meeting his father seemed to melt away, and despite the awkward fake honeymoon, we’d survived and had a little fun. I had zero intention of mentioning the kiss we’d shared, especially when he didn’t seem to want to talk about it either.

The evening morphed into a cozy family dinner with my kids, and I didn’t need to mess it up by talking about how I’d practically jumped him in the garden. “I know family dinners weren’t really your thing growing up. Thanks for humoring me.”

He stopped to look up at me. “I enjoy it. Kids are simple. Pure. I like hearing about their day.”

I swirled my wine in the glass. “It’s funny, Sylvie has told me a lot about your dad, but being in his office the other day was...” I allowed a dramatic shiver to shake my shoulders. “Gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

Abel huffed a laugh through his nose. “Heebie-jeebies? Is that a technical term?” For a moment he stared down at the counter. “You’re safer keeping your distance.”

My brows furrowed. “What is that supposed to mean? Safer?”

Abel sighed and leaned against the smooth quartz of the countertop. “Has Sylvie told you much about our mother?”

I kept my eyes on him and only offered the tiniest shake of my head. Sylvie was very private and kept a lot to herself. She hadn’t ever seemed like she wanted to talk about it, so I let it be. Now curiosity was eating me alive.

“My mother left my father and us when I was eleven. I was the oldest, so I have a lot of memories of her. JP and MJ hardly knew her.”

It was hard to find my voice. The dim lighting in the kitchen felt as though we were in a cocoon of trust, and I didn’t want to break it. “What was she like?”

I expected him to share that she was callous. Detached. How else could a mother get up and leave her six children like that? It was unfathomable to me.

“She was everything.” The pain was evident in his voice as he stared at the ground. “My mother had the best laugh. She tried to find the good in every situation—even when my father was home and...” His eyes lifted to meet mine, and he shrugged. “Somehow it was always harder when he was home.”

I pressed my lips together, unable to find the words to comfort him. “I understand.”

Abel dragged a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

I smiled at him and took a sip of wine. “Because I’m your wife.”

He nodded slowly and sucked in a breath. “Then I should probably tell you I have a private investigator looking into the disappearance of my mother.”

I straightened. “Disappearance? I thought she chose to leave.”

Tension clenched in his jaw. “My father said she left—that was always the story he told everyone. We have no proof she did it on her own accord.”

My stomach whooshed, dread pooling in my gut. “Do you think something happened to her?”

“I do.” He wrung his hands together. “Bug found a box of some of her things tucked away in the basement—things she wouldn’t have left without—and none of it adds up. I’ve got a PI doing some digging.”

Disappearing mothers and frightening exes and fake husbands. It was a lot to process, but standing in front of me was a man being open and vulnerable.

It was as though logic was irrelevant and everything inside of me was unraveling while Abel held that string and tugged.

I stepped forward and tipped my chin to look at him. “Thank you.”

He frowned and looked down at me. “For what?”

My hand slid up his stomach to rest over his heart. It clunked beneath my palm. “Being open. Honest.”

His fingers curled around my hip, and I melted into him. Before I could talk myself out of it, I raised onto my tiptoes. My hand found the side of his face, and I brushed my lips against the corner of his mouth.

“Is this a bad idea?” I whispered in the soft glow of the kitchen.

His fingers flexed on my hip. “I?—”

A shrill shriek from the backyard broke the spell, and I quickly retreated to see that the kids were okay. Electricity and tension were at an all-time high, and I struggled to get my breath under control as I left Abel standing in the kitchen.

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