Free Finding Abigail by Christina Smith Page A

off the floor next to me. “Well, this has been fun discussing my
love life, but I’m going home to plan what to wear tomorrow night.”
    Jeff twisted
the top off his beer and tossed it onto the table, where it bounced twice
before landing in the bowl of fruit. “Believe me, if he’s getting sex, he won’t
care if you walk in wearing a potato sack.”
    “Thanks,” I
said, smirking at him. “See you later. I’ll call you Saturday morning with
details.”
    As I shut the
door behind me, I heard Brenda yell, “You’d better.”
     
     

Chapter
Eight
    Afterglow
     
    I was nervous
the next day. I couldn’t help but worry about what was going to happen. I knew
what he expected; like Brenda pointed out, when a man made you dinner, it was a
sure sign he was hoping for more than just dessert afterward. I definitely
wanted the same thing, but it had been so long. Would I remember how? What was
I thinking? Of course I knew what to do. It was just like riding a bike. It
would come back to me...right?
    At about three
o’clock, I had to stop writing. For some reason I couldn’t get sex off my mind
and it was a tad inappropriate for a pre-K book. I had to figure out what to
wear anyway, and despite what Jeff had said, I needed something more special
than a potato sack.
    My mind was
drawing a blank. A dress was too fancy, jeans too casual and really that was
all that was in my closet. Two dresses, and jeans. Maybe Debbie was right, I
needed to shop more often.
    After the third
search through my closet, I finally decided on the black dress pants I usually
reserved for meetings with publishers, and a silk shimmering silver blouse that
Debbie had given me for my last birthday.
    I left my hair
down, but straightened it since I gave myself plenty of time, and then finished
the look off with dark-gray, smoky eyes. The makeup lady at Brown’s department
store had shown me how to do it, but I hadn’t had a reason to use the technique
until now. The girl looking back at me in the mirror was ready for whatever
came her way. The black pants hugged her legs nicely and the smooth soft silk
of the blouse was low cut, showing just enough to give off a sexy vibe.
    Nick lived
outside of town, which meant I had to drive. When I reached my car a nervous
knot formed in my gut and stayed there the whole way.
    I pulled up to
an older apartment building. The gray stone was aged; however, the grounds were
clean and decorated with flower boxes that dotted the walkway. The building
itself wasn’t overly huge, just four levels, and from the windows it looked
like there were two units per floor. Inside the entryway, it smelled of
pineapple and coconuts.
    I followed
Nick’s directions up to the fourth floor, and reluctantly knocked on 4B. The
sound of soft jazz floated out of the door, which was surprising, I had him
pegged for a strict classic rock fan. I liked the fact that he listened to more
than one type of music. It showed that he had layers, and I looked forward to
getting to know each one. The door swung open just as I was about to knock
again. He stood in front of me wearing a white apron covering dark jeans and
deep-blue collared shirt. The apron had splashes of butter and other
undistinguishable liquids all over it. His face was wearing a half grin as he
took me in, and I noticed a smudge of flour under his left eye. “Hi, are you on
time or am I running late?” he asked, sounding flustered.
    With a quick
glance at my watch, I took in the time. “Well, you said six, and it’s six
now...so.” I trailed off as he stared at me. “What?” I asked, wondering if my
mascara was running.
    “You look
beautiful,” he answered as he stepped back to let me enter.
    His comment left
me flustered. I leaned in as I brushed by and wiped the flour from his cheek
with my thumb. With him so close I couldn’t stop myself from pressing my lips
against his, and breathing in the scent of him.
    He leaned into
me. His body was warm and I felt the urge to