Abby, Get Your Groom!. Victoria Pade
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that key on the table between them and the knowledge she already had. And after a lifetime of not knowing anything, she knew she couldn’t just ignore the chance to find out whatever more she could, good or bad.
“I’ll be right by your side every step of the way,” Dylan said then, as if he was reading her mind.
And Abby found that assurance that she wouldn’t be alone in the process of uncovering her history somehow comforting.
Which was all the more confusing because she prided herself on standing on her own two feet to face whatever she had to face. The most support she’d ever had had been from China and this wasn’t China. This was a stranger she’d just met today.
But here was this guy offering to help her and stick by her, and it made the whole delving-into-her-history thing more palatable.
It had been a really strange day...
“Okay, I guess,” she heard herself say without any conviction whatsoever.
“Great!” he decreed. “I already have people looking for the lockbox, so that—and my digging through old marriage records—is where we’ll start.”
Abby nodded, feeling slightly shell-shocked.
“And in the meantime, Lindie’s wedding is pulling a lot of attention from newshounds and I also have to keep a handle on that. Is there any chance that you and I can take an after-hours look through your salon so I can get a feel for how I can make sure the test run can be kept private?”
He’d moved on. It took Abby a moment to realize that and switch gears, too.
But she did.
“We don’t do the special occasions work at the salon,” she informed him. “The owner—Sheila—has two salons and there’s a third location midway between the two where we only do the special occasions work. It makes it so our brides and their wedding parties—or whoever else we’re working with for a special event—can spread out and get a little pampered without regular clients around.”
“Then can you give me a tour of that place so I can check it out? The sooner the better.”
He was really expecting a lot of her in her befuddled state. But she tried to think about work and scheduling and finally came up with an answer. “I guess I could meet you there tomorrow night—I know it’s Saturday night but I’m booked from early tomorrow morning until closing at the shop so that would be the soonest... I know it’s probably a date night for you with your girlfriend or wife or whatever, but—”
“There’s no girlfriend or wife or date night or whatever. Would meeting with me be messing with any of that for you?”
“Me?” she said as if that was unthinkable. “No. There’s none of that for me right now, either.”
“Then we can do it tomorrow night?”
“I’ll text you the address and directions. I can probably be there by seven.”
“Seven it is, then,” he agreed. “Now, how about that burger place over there? Can I buy you dinner?” He pointed his sculpted chin in the direction of a small redbrick building that housed two restaurants just in front of the old Victorian house where Abby rented a studio apartment.
Clearly he had no idea how overwhelmed she was if he thought there was any way she could be good company right now. She declined the invitation with the polite excuse that she’d promised to eat with China tonight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” Dylan said without seeming to take any offense from the rejection.
They both stood and as he did, he picked up the key from the picnic table. “I think you should hang on to this.”
This time Abby took it from him, her fingers brushing his as she did and making her oddly aware of some kind of heat passing between them.
“Are you okay?” he asked then, as if he’d just noticed that she was a little dazed.
“I’m fine. There’s just been a lot that came at me all of a sudden...”
“Why don’t you at least let me drive you home.”
Abby took a deep breath of the evening air to clear her mind and shook her head. “I’m only a block away. The walk will do me good.”
“Are you sure?” he asked skeptically.
“I am,” she said, wondering if she should thank him or something.
But she didn’t feel altogether grateful for what she’d learned tonight, so instead she just said goodbye and headed back the way she’d come.
It was only as she walked home that she recalled feeling somehow strengthened by the thought of picking through her past with him by her side.
Why would that have happened? she asked herself when it struck her as weird all over again.
It certainly couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that he was fabulous looking—even though she suddenly found herself happy to think that she’d be seeing him again tomorrow night.
Maybe it was just because he was a big, strong guy who gave the impression that he could handle himself and anything thrown at him.
Except that whatever got thrown would be thrown at her...and so far, he’d been the one doing all the throwing.
But still, that must be it, she decided.
Because after all, what else could it be?
Certainly not that she was attracted to him.
They were worlds apart and she knew better than to try crossing over from her world to anyone else’s.
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