Warm Nights in Magnolia Bay by Babette Jongh (best summer books .TXT) 📗

have felt the same way, because she slipped away from his questing hand, then patted his shoulder and moved away, humming.

So she wasn’t thinking of climbing into his bed the way he was hoping to climb into her shorts. He was okay, for now, with the kind of appreciation that filled his belly if not his heart, that satisfied his hunger if not his libido. He could get used to this. He hadn’t realized that this sort of food even existed outside of fancy restaurants. (Melissa’s idea of breakfast-making had consisted of putting slabs of frozen bread products into the toaster and keeping them there until the edges were charred. He hadn’t minded; she made excellent coffee, and McDonald’s was on his way to work.)

After breakfast, Quinn planned to head back to the estate, where for the past few days, he had been clearing out the undergrowth with the help of Reva’s tractor and bush-hog attachment. The pool house was completely renovated now; late nights sitting up looking out at Abby’s bedroom window—not being creepy…for real, just making sure she didn’t need help—had given him plenty of time to finish the tile-and-grout work in the kitchen. The pool water was looking good, but the water level concerned him. It seemed to lose water much more quickly than the pool at Bayside Barn. Something he’d have to keep an eye on.

“Did you ever find out whether your pool is leaking?” Abby asked, apparently reading his mind.

“I think it might have an issue where the steps meet the side of the pool. I’m keeping an eye on it.”

“So what’s next on your renovation agenda?” Abby took his empty plate to the sink and started running water.

“Gonna start on the old house today.” He thought—for a millisecond—about telling her his plans to flip the estate once he’d completed renovations. After all, she hadn’t made any secret of the fact that she was looking online for office-manager jobs. He thought about confessing, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Instead, he got up and took his cup and glass to the sink, where she was washing dishes by hand. Coming up behind her, he put his arms around her waist. Her hair smelled like lemons or limes or something citrusy. He breathed in, getting a little whiff of bacon, too. “Mmmm. What’s for dinner?”

She laughed. “You only just now finished breakfast, and you’re thinking about dinner?”

He moved her hair aside and nuzzled her neck. It smelled good, too, soapy and clean. He kissed her neck, openmouthed so he could taste. Salty and sweet. “Mmmm.” Maybe he could have her for dinner.

But no. He knew she wouldn’t allow that, and he didn’t dare voice his thought out loud. They hadn’t done more than kiss so far; she had set some pretty firm boundaries. Not with words, but with actions. Every time he tried to corral her for more than a kiss, she squirmed away. Even now, with her knee propped on a scooter and her hands buried in dishwater, she managed to maneuver herself out of his reach.

Strangely, her reluctance fueled his desire to push for more, even though he had decided months ago that sex without love or commitment was inherently unsatisfying. Now, he was learning that these homey little interludes with Abby were much more dangerous to his peace of mind than outright lovemaking. Everything about her, even the boundaries she set between them, made him want more.

He moved around to her other side and dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder. The fact that her skin tasted like honey didn’t help.

“What do you think Sean would like for dinner tonight?” Abby asked. “Hamburgers? Pizza? I want to make a good first impression.”

Abby had filled the refrigerator and the cabinets in advance of Sean’s first weekend visit with Quinn. Though Quinn and Sean would be sleeping at the pool house, when Quinn mentioned Sean’s upcoming visit, Abby had reminded him that she planned to cook all their meals. “Anything you make will be a step up from what he’s used to, believe me.”

Abby pushed her butt back against his hips in a teasing way. Because of the scooter under her injured leg, her aim wasn’t quite square, but maybe that was a good thing. “I was thinking of twice-boiled broccoli and blanched parsnips with a side of spinach. Maybe some slow-cooked beef liver for protein.”

He slid his arms around her waist and settled his hands on her belly. He barely resisted the urge to let his fingers glide upward—accidentally, of course—to caress her breasts. “Whatever you just said—sorry, I wasn’t listening—sounds amazing. I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Abby must’ve read his mind, because she scooted away and swatted him with a damp dish towel. “Get out of here. You’ve got work to do at your place, and I’m sorry to tell you this, but you smell kind of sweaty.”

“Okay, fine.” He took a step back. “He’ll be here this afternoon around three. I thought I’d give him a quick tour of my place, then bring him over here to help out at feeding time.”

She rinsed and stacked the last utensil in the drain rack, then turned off the water. “Don’t make him work his first day of visitation. Why don’t you let him try out your pool instead? I’ll still cook dinner for y’all.”

“I think he’ll enjoy feeding the animals.” Quinn had learned to enjoy his work at the farm. In fact, sometimes, in his most wild imaginings, he wished he could figure out a way to keep the estate himself, and maybe get a horse or something. Crazy thought, though. Flipping the estate was the first step in his business plan. Without it, he couldn’t build the construction business he dreamed of, the one he needed to support himself and his son. Though Sean lived with Melissa, Quinn wanted to pay his child support and then some. He didn’t want Sean to lack for anything, or for Melissa to lack for anything