“Um, hello? I’m still here,” Abby says.
Courtney’s body gets tight against mine like she’d forgotten someone else was there besides us.
With a sigh, I pull my face from her neck; I keep my arm wrapped around her, though.
“Abby?” I stick out my hand toward her.
“Yes. You must be Lucas.” She shakes my hand, and I’m surprised by how firm her grasp is. “So you’re together.” She looks between Courtney and me, raising a brow.
“Well . . . ,” Courtney starts hesitantly.
“We’re getting to know each other.” I give Courtney’s shoulder a squeeze.
“You said she’s your woman.” Abby calls me out on my earlier words while narrowing her eyes slightly on me.
“She is.” I shrug. I see Courtney’s head tip up to look at me, but I don’t look down at her.
“So she’s ‘your woman,’ but you’re still just getting to know her?”
“Abby . . .” Courtney sighs.
“I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on here,” Abby says to Courtney before she looks at me once more. “You should know that if you hurt her, I will hurt you. And by ‘hurt you,’ I mean I will take away your manhood and make it impossible for you to ever father a child.”
“He already has a daughter,” Courtney says.
Abby’s eyes fill with surprise.
“He’s also raising her on his own, basically.”
“Oh.” She shifts her gaze back and forth between Courtney and me, and her smile is surprisingly sweet. “Well then . . . what do you have to eat? I’m starving. I rushed over here from yoga.”
She turns for the kitchen, and I watch her go.
I look down at Courtney when I feel her body start to shake.
When I see she’s laughing, I fight a smile of my own. “What’s funny?”
“I think you just got her approval.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.”
“Thank you.” At her soft tone, I search her eyes.
“For what?”
“For helping to get rid of Tom.”
“You really don’t have to thank me for that.”
I tip my head farther down toward her. Her eyes drop to my mouth. My stomach dips, and I tighten my grip on her waist as she starts to get up on her tiptoes.
Just then Abby asks loudly, “Do you have any more of these? They are awesome!”
With a sigh and a grumbled statement I can’t quite make out, Courtney descends until she’s flat on her feet again, then moves toward the kitchen. “That Danish you’re eating is Lucas’s.”
“Oh.” Abby gives me a sheepish smile as she chews and swallows the bite she just took. “Sorry.”
“It’s all good.”
“He might just be one of the good ones,” she tells Courtney. “He’s not even mad that some woman he hardly knows threatened to take his manhood and is now eating his food.”
“Don’t you have to work today?” Courtney asks.
“Nope. Sundays are for Jesus and relaxation.”
“You told me that you don’t believe in organized religion.”
“I don’t, but I still believe in god. I still do my duty to him by taking Sundays off.” She takes another bite of the Danish she’s still holding.
“You’re still eating Lucas’s Danish,” Courtney points out.
“It’s really good,” Abby says around a mouthful. “I haven’t had carbs in forever.” She looks at me and holds out what looks like a bite and a half. “Do you want the rest?”
“I learned at an early age not to get between a woman and her carbs. Enjoy it. It’s yours.” I walk past Courtney, letting my hand glide across her hip as I go to the kitchen.
“Do you think Tom is planning on sticking around the city?” Abby asks as she takes a seat at the table with Courtney.
I put a couple of slices of bread into the toaster.
“I have no idea. Hopefully not.”
“We can file a—” Abby starts.
My eyes fly to Courtney when she cuts her off sharply. “I can’t do that.”
“Babe, you can.” Abby grabs her hand. “I know you don’t want to, but if he won’t let you be . . .”
“Does he show up a lot?” I ask, surprised by the growl in my own voice.
“No . . . Well, not since I moved from Boston. I haven’t seen him since then.”
“He keeps calling you. You told me yourself that he’s calling all the time,” Abby says as I spread butter on my toast.
I don’t like what I’m hearing one bit.
“I don’t answer when he calls. It’s not a big deal.” Courtney sighs.
Abby lets out a frustrated huff. “Fine, but if he does anything at all that makes you feel uncomfortable, I want to know about it.”
“It will be okay . . . ,” Courtney tries again.
“You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen what I have. I know how men like him get when they don’t get what they want.”
Courtney gives in. “If anything happens, I will let you know. Then we will talk about what to do going forward.”