Free Finding Abigail by Christina Smith Page B

curl up against it. Who needed
to eat, let’s just jump to dessert.
    He pulled away
first. “As much as I hate to stop you, the door is open, and I really don’t
want to burn dinner.”
    Just as he
mentioned the food, I smelled a delicious aroma wafting in the air. I stepped
away from him and glanced around. I heard the door close behind me.
    The apartment
was all open concept, with the living room at the back, the kitchen to my left,
and I was standing in the dining room. The table was set with matching plates
and candles. My heart swelled at the sight of a bouquet of roses that sat in
the center. I loved flowers. My thoughts briefly went to my parents, but I
quickly pushed them away. Tonight was not the time to think of them. Talk
about a mood killer . The soft music floated out of the speakers—the
atmosphere was very romantic. “I like your place.”
    He stepped
around me to slip into the kitchen and opened the oven, pulling out three small
roasting pans. “Have a seat, there’s sparkling wine on the table. It won’t take
long to plate these.”
    Doing as he
instructed, I sat down on the wooden chair, noticing that one of the rungs on
the back was loose. “It smells so good, Nick. What are we having?”
    As he lifted
food from the pans onto plates, he replied, “Rack of lamb, roasted red
potatoes, and mini glazed carrots.”
    Wow. “That’s sounds amazing. Did you order it in, and then just put the
food in casserole dishes before I got here?” I asked, smiling, hoping he heard
the teasing in my voice.
    He narrowed his
eyes as he finished the second plate, and then sauntered toward the table,
placing a dish in front of me. “I thought of that.” His lip twitched. “But I
wanted to impress you, so I begged my mother to show me how to make this.”
    A warm fuzzy
feeling flowed through me at the thought of him going to so much trouble.
“That’s so sweet, but you really didn’t have to do all this.”
    He stepped back,
placing the remaining plate on the table. “I wanted to.” He leaned over me, his
face inches from mine. “You’re worth the effort, Abby.” His voice was a whisper
as he leaned in to kiss me. His hands moved up and down my side, creating a
warm glow. The kiss didn’t last long before he stood up and grinned. “The food
is getting cold and I worked way too hard to let it go to waste.” He took his
seat across from me and we began to eat.
    The meal was
really good. The meat was juicy, potatoes were flavorful, and carrots sweet.
“That was amazing,” I said, pushing my plate away after taking the last bite.
    He grinned,
taking a sip of his wine. Once he swallowed he replied, “I’m glad you enjoyed
it, because it will never happen again.” He winked. “Of course, if you want a
grilled cheese sandwich or mac-and-cheese from a box, I’m your guy.”
    I laughed,
reaching for my wine glass, and took a drink. The bubbles danced on my tongue,
adding to the giddiness I already felt.
    We cleaned up
the table and then the dishes. When the kitchen was spotless, we moved to the
living room, to relax on the couch with another glass of wine.
    “By the way,
those roses are for you.” he said, gesturing to the bouquet on the table. “I
was too preoccupied by how good you looked to tell you when you first got
here.”
    Again, I was
flustered by his words. Would I ever get used to his sweet compliments? “Thank
you.”
    The music
changed to a slow one, a soft guitar with horn. Nick stood up and held out his
hand. I took it and let him pull me against him. We moved slowly, his warmth
seeping into me, spreading heat through my body. I tightened my grip on him,
leaning my head on his shoulder. His musky scent hovered in the air, making me
lightheaded. I could hear his breathing go from steady to ragged. His hands
gripped the back of my top, forcing me closer, almost molding me to his body.
    When I felt him
kiss the top of my head, I looked up at him. His eyes were stormy seas. “I want
you,