“We’re picking up the computer tomorrow. Cait touts herself as a tattooist, but she’s a literal computer genius. I swear if we locked you two in a room, you could fix all of the world’s economic probl—”
“Abs, I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m interested in everything you’re saying, but damn, baby, I miss you. I need you to know that.”
“Oh, Aiden,” she said longingly. “I thought if I talked fast I wouldn’t feel the ache of missing you so badly.”
Wishing he could hold her in his arms, he said, “How’d that work out for you?”
“Sucky.”
He heard her smile in her voice. “What have you done to me, Abs? Before I met you, I’d have memorized every word out of everyone’s mouth in that meeting. But I couldn’t concentrate on anything but wishing I could be there with you. How messed up is that?”
“Um . . . ? I think I’m supposed to say that it’s pretty messed up, but I’m in the same boat. At least we’re lost at sea together.”
“Yeah.” He leaned his forearm against the wall, dipping his head for privacy, and said, “I want you in my arms, Abby, in my bed. I want to get on a different plane and head back to Silver Island. I want to look into your eyes and hold you while you fall asleep. I want to hear you snore and soak in that adorable little hum that follows.”
“I do not snore, but if you think a hum is adorable, I’ll own up to that.”
He closed his eyes, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had, and that brought on the in- and out-of-control feelings again. He stood up and rolled his shoulders back, trying to regain control of his emotions, and said, “Listen, Abs. I won’t get to my hotel in Chicago until after two a.m. I’m not going to call and wake you, okay?”
“Okay, but just so you know, I wore your hat today, and I’m sleeping in one of your shirts.”
His chest squeezed. “I love that. Take a picture and send it to me.”
“I’ll do you one better and take a picture of what’s under the shirt,” she said seductively.
“Baby, you do that and I’m on the next plane home.” Home? Where did that come from?
“I’m stripping naked right now!” she said with a giggle.
They talked until his plane was boarding. He felt rejuvenated by their call, but as he took his seat on the plane, a knot of longing lodged in his gut. His phone dinged with a text. He was careful to open it with the screen facing away from the guy next to him just in case Abby had gotten bold. But she’d sent something even better than a picture of her gorgeous body—a picture of her beautiful smiling face. A second picture popped up. Abby must have had Cait take it, because her back was facing the camera, his T-shirt hanging nearly to the backs of her knees. She had wrapped her arms around herself, and it looked like someone was embracing her. A third picture popped up of Abby facing the camera with her hand palm up in front of her puckered lips, blowing him a kiss. She looked so fucking sexy and sweet he wanted to crawl through the phone and devour her.
A text message appeared. Now you can look into my eyes and pretend those are your arms around me. The rest will have to wait. She added a winking emoji.
His heart squeezed as he thumbed out a response. I can’t wait to hold you. I’ve never felt this way before. I miss you more than words can express, Abs. He added a kissing emoji, laughing to himself. A fucking kissing emoji. Remi would have a field day with that one.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BY WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, Abby felt like her father’s old boom box. She couldn’t tune in to any station except one—Aiden. And not for lack of trying. She’d been busy every minute.
Rob Wicked and his sons Zeke and Zander had inspected the building and found a couple of minor issues with the roof and rotted wood in a few parts of the building. They’d also found a leak in the bathroom. It had taken them all day to complete most of the work and had set her back a pretty penny, but the peace of mind had been worth it. While they’d taken care of those issues, Abby had worked with Cait. They’d finalized a simple, classy logo, which they were both thrilled with. The Bistro was written in elegant ocean-blue font, with the tails of the T and B a textured sand color fading into gold at the tips. When they’d shown it to Deirdra, she’d been elated. While Cait set up the accounting, inventory, and scheduling software, Abby had gone through her father’s recipes, selecting her favorites for the menu. But her mind kept tracking back to Aiden, wondering if he’d think the lunches she was considering and the dinners she was testing were the best choices.
The kitchen had been her safe haven, the place where the rest of the world faded away. But when she’d been testing recipes, her mind had been all over the place, and she’d burned one of the entrees like a novice. Even though she knew Aiden couldn’t text during his meetings, she’d checked her phone like an addict seeking her next fix. It was ridiculous. She never knew it was possible to miss someone so much, carrying out rote exercises became nearly impossible.
Although that wasn’t exactly true.
When her father died, she’d missed him like she’d lost a limb. She still kind of did. But missing Aiden was completely different, and ever since Sunday night, she and Aiden had been different, too. Their confessions had brought their relationship to a new level, a safer, more grounded place, where they didn’t hold back and single sentences spoke volumes. No one had warned her that falling for someone could create bone-deep longing when they were apart. His morning texts—Good morning, beautiful. Wish I was waking up beside you. I miss having coffee with my Runner Girl—and their brief phone calls made her miss him even more. He’d worried over her extra expenditures and offered again to help her out financially, which she’d thanked him for but turned down. When he’d called her from the airport last night before leaving Chicago for LA, he’d sounded tired and she could tell he was frustrated, but he’d still managed to be attentive and interested in hearing everything she had to say. She didn’t know if his frustration was caused by work or by them being apart, but she had a feeling it was both, because she was experiencing the same thing.
Cait poked her head into the office, startling Abby. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but the guys have finished the repairs.”
“You’re not interrupting.” Abby pushed to her feet and waved toward the recipes she’d jotted down, which consisted of about a third of the number they needed. “I swear my brain is a sieve this week. Did they find any other issues?”
“No, but they want to talk with us about the window installation.”
“That’s good news,” she said as they left the office.
“I have more good news. I think I have the staffing schedule worked out using your specifications, but shouldn’t you start thinking about putting ads online to find people before the season starts?”
“I already put an ad on the Silver Island community Facebook page. There are always college kids looking for summer jobs. We should be fine. The cook is going to be the hardest person to find.”
As they walked through the restaurant, Abby was struck by how much it had changed since they’d started working on it. She could open it as it was if need be. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it was clean, with gleaming floors and pretty wooden tables, and once the interior was painted it would look even better. It was missing the elegance of the fancy lights of love, but one day—maybe next summer if the restaurant did well—she’d hunt down lights just like the ones her father had used and splurge on them.