She clung to him like she never wanted to let go, her eyes pleading for more. “Me too.”
The desire in her voice nearly did him in. He was a man who dealt in hard facts and tangible reasonings. He had no idea of the whys or hows they were so swept up in each other so fast, and he didn’t care, because nothing in his life other than taking care of Remi, which was in a whole different realm, had ever felt so right.
He kissed her again, slow and sweet, full of unspoken promises to go along with the one she heard when he said, “Soon.”
Abby wasn’t good at pampering herself, and she didn’t want Aiden to see the mess her mother had left behind, so when she got home, she skipped the pampering, threw open the windows, and went to work cleaning up the living room. Cait pitched in, despite Abby telling her she’d already done enough and should relax. They picked through their mother’s records, choosing some of their favorites from the seventies, and played them while they cleaned. Abby enjoyed working with Cait and talking about their mother without Deirdra rolling her eyes or disparaging her. Cait soaked in every word, the good and the hard to hear. She was loosening up, and they worked well together.
When they were done cleaning, Cait showered while Abby made the pastry dough for dessert and put it in the fridge to chill. She showered quickly, but choosing an outfit proved time-consuming. She went through several options, wanting to look good for Aiden but not like she’d tried too hard. She’d turned into some sort of teenage girl, popping into Cait’s room to show off each one. Does this look okay? Is this too much? Does this color make my butt look too big? At first Cait wasn’t sure how to respond and told her everything looked good. But once Abby clarified that this was what sisters did and she needed to be blatantly honest because sisters trusted each other, Cait let loose. She nixed the outfits that were too bright, said one made her look too thick in the waist, and others definitely looked like she was trying too hard.
After the fifth or sixth outfit, Cait threw up her hands and stalked into Abby’s closet, searching through her clothes, and put together an outfit Abby never would have come up with herself—dark blue textured leggings, a comfy short-sleeve gray shirt with a wide V-neck that showed a hint of the swell of her breasts, and a gray and white flannel shirt. Flannel. She’d forgotten that shirt was even in there. Abby rolled up the sleeves while Cait ran into their mother’s bedroom, returning with several of their mother’s bracelets and a long gold and blue dreamcatcher necklace, all of which Cait and Deirdra had found yesterday while Abby had been out with Aiden. They’d paired the outfit with Abby’s tan ankle boots, and based on the lascivious looks Aiden had been giving her since he’d arrived and they’d begun cooking, she looked as fantastic as she felt.
Thank you, big sis.
Music filled the air, giving their evening a festive feel. As promised, Aiden had gotten everything on Abby’s shopping list. They were making beet salad with pine nuts and one of her father’s favorite classic French dishes, Poulet Vallée d’Auge—chicken cooked in apple cider, flambéed with Calvados brandy, and topped with sautéed buttered apples and a rich cream sauce. For dessert, she’d decided on something simple: a banana tarte tatin, a puff pastry with caramelized bananas and a dollop of cream spiced with her father’s favorite rum.
Aiden was a great help, chopping and stirring, while Cait opted to set the table and take notes as they talked about the things they still needed to do at the restaurant. Abby couldn’t believe Aiden wanted to help them get the Bistro ready for the grand opening any more than she could believe how attentive he was while they cooked, brushing kisses on her temple or touching her back. He somehow managed to lavish her with those intimate, special touches without crossing any inappropriate lines that might make Cait uncomfortable. She loved how he included Cait in their conversations, too, making sure she didn’t feel like a third wheel. It was as if he’d been schooled in how to be a perfect gentleman, another thing she definitely wasn’t used to but really enjoyed.
“Okay, this is what I have so far for the Bistro.” Cait rattled off the list of exterior and interior repairs and the cosmetic modifications, like painting and repointing the floors and patio, while Abby browned the chicken. “My boss’s cousins own Cape Stone. I’m sure they’d give us a great deal on fixing up the floors and patios. They do amazing work, as long as you have no issues being around bikers.”
“Like the Hells Angels biker gang?” Abby asked cautiously.
“No. They’re members of the Dark Knights motorcycle club. It’s different from a gang. They do good things for the community to keep it safe,” Cait explained. “They’re really great guys, and as I said last night, they’re like family to me. I thought I should ask because at first glance they’re probably not what you’re used to. They’re tough, tatted-up guys.”
“You have tattoos, and I adore you,” Abby pointed out. “I have nothing against bikers. Leni’s twin brother, Levi, is a member of the Dark Knights in Harborside. As long as it’s a reputable company and we get a good price, that’s all that matters. Let’s see what kind of deal you can get.”
“Great, and once we get started in the kitchen, I guess we’ll know about appliances,” Cait said.
“What about the menu?” Aiden asked, looking deliciously handsome in dark slacks and a polo shirt.
Abby noticed he’d worn leather sandals instead of loafers, too. He really did listen to everything she said.
“I definitely have to update it,” Abby said. “It hasn’t changed since my dad was alive. Mom had the waitstaff tell customers what was no longer available.”
“Does the Bistro have an up-to-date inventory system?” Cait asked.
Abby turned the chicken over in the pan and said, “If you call a legal pad and a pencil a system, then sure.”
Aiden winced.
“I know, right? Mom never liked computers. My dad had a manual ledger system for inventory and payroll, but my mom—our mom—never got the hang of it,” Abby explained. “I showed her how to do it before I moved away, but she hated dealing with finances. Lord knows what state the books are in now. Shelley saw how it was stressing me out when I’d visit, and eventually she convinced me to step back and let her help. Honestly, it was a relief at that point. I’ll have to start reviewing the financial and inventory records and think about automated systems.”
“I can help,” Cait offered. “Tank’s parents own the Salty Hog, a restaurant and bar on the Cape, and I’ve been helping out there on and off for several years. Ginger and Conroy, Tank’s parents, aren’t all that fond of using computers, and I’m kind of a math and computer nerd, so I updated their general accounting, payroll, inventory, and staff scheduling programs. I can get you all the specs on the systems we used, but I didn’t see a computer at the restaurant, and you’ll need one to run them.”
“Add a computer to our list,” Abby said. “I had no idea you could do all that. That’s wonderful. Thank you.”
“A fellow mathie. I love it.” Aiden held up his wineglass and clinked it with Cait’s. “Were you in the math club in high school?”