Sebastian saw his chance. He looked across the table and cleared his throat, making sure Lincoln wasn’t listening. “Hey,” he said to Abby.
Abby looked at him, her face expressionless. “Yes?”
“Should we, ah, get our stories straight?”
She widened her eyes, smirking a little. “I guess we met at a bar at a convention.”
“Job fair,” Sebastian reminded her. “Except you’re not supposed to be job hunting in New York, because of Doctor Mark, the doctor.” He saw Abby smile, even though she was trying not to.
She leaned toward him, close enough for him to catch a whiff of her perfume and shampoo. “Look. I don’t want my mother knowing we hooked up at a bar,” she said, her voice low. “Is that so terrible?”
“No.” Sebastian thought that Lincoln was listening to them. He dropped his voice. “But I wish you’d left me your number before you took off.”
“Why?”
Lincoln was definitely listening. Sebastian plowed ahead. “Because I wanted to call you.” The words had popped out before he could consider them. Abby looked surprised, then dubious. Sebastian gulped from his water glass, wondering what he was doing. “And it’s good to see you again. You look good.” Good, he thought, groaning inwardly. Such an eloquent compliment, from someone who used words for a living. It was true, though. In the sunshine, he’d been able to appreciate the healthy sheen of her skin, the shades of cinnamon and caramel in her hair, and her faintly freckled cheeks. And in the candlelit restaurant, she was as pretty as she’d been in his bed.
Abby gave him a stiff nod, but he thought he could see her softening, her shoulders descending and her posture becoming less guarded.
“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Sebastian said.
She nodded again… but, in his head, he imagined a different scenario. Abby looking up at him, asking what he did want. Not the Abby currently sitting across the table, in a black short-sleeved tee shirt and cropped pants, but the Abby he remembered from their night together, wearing nothing but a pair of turquoise silk panties; flushed and fragrant and eager. The Abby who’d been just as into everything they’d done as he’d been. He remembered how he’d pulled her onto his lap, how her lips had closed around his fork when he’d fed her a bite of pasta. The softness of her skin; the sweetness of her mouth. He shifted on his seat, looking at her intently. And she was looking right back at him, lips slightly parted, her eyes gone dark.
“Hey—” he said. Abby straightened up as Eileen approached the table, and whatever had been swelling between Sebastian and Abby vanished like it had never been.
Abby leaned forward. “I have a boyfriend,” she said, her voice quiet, her gaze intent.
Sebastian nodded. He’d heard what she said… but he thought he heard something else, too. A note of hesitation. A hint of doubt. He saw the way her teeth were digging into the soft flesh of her lip, and the crinkles at the corners of her eyes. Reluctance? Regret? Second thoughts? A burning desire to renounce Doctor Mark and join him in his bed that very night?
Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he’d been interested in a second round with a woman he’d already taken to bed. There were always new delights to sample, new lands to discover, and he was always eager to move on. Was it just the challenge of going after a girl who had her mother as a traveling companion and a boyfriend back home? Was it Abby herself?
Sebastian remembered thinking about Abby for days after they’d hooked up. Days. Weeks. Possibly months, he realized, remembering how he’d catch a glimpse of curly hair on the street, or smell familiar perfume in the subway, and he’d feel his heart swell and his pulse start racing; his feet moving faster as they tried to catch up, and the inevitable disappointment when the woman turned out to be a stranger. It wasn’t just the challenge, or the novelty. It was her.
“Get a good night’s sleep. Lots of miles tomorrow,” Abby said, patting her lips, with a smile at everyone around the table.
Sebastian scooped up one last spoonful of tiramisu, and stuck close to Abby as they left the restaurant, plotting how he could sit next to her on the van for the ride back to the hotel, and convince her to ride with him in the morning.
Abby
Hi, honey,” Mark said. “How goes the ride?”
“So far so good.” Abby had come back from dinner, gotten immediately into her pajamas, and curled up on her hotel bed. She knew it was likely that the bedspread upon which she was currently reposing had absorbed all manner of bodily excretions but was too exhausted to care. She’d lit the scented candle she’d packed to combat any strange hotel room smells, which could range from must and mildew to cigarette smoke or aggressive cleaning chemicals. She brought a candle with her on every trip, to make every new room at least smell a little bit like home.