Page 75 of Single Girl in the City
“I don’t think Owen will do anything he doesn’t want to do,” Abi said. “He’s stubborn and a bit of a grump, but I hope he takes advantage of the time that’s been freed up by his new staff and managerial guidelines, which have been streamlined so anyone can …”
Abi faded off because everyone was looking over her head and she knew who they were looking at. The stubborn, grumpy guy whose bed she’d left just a few hours ago.
She looked over her shoulder and nearly swallowed her tongue. Today Owen was dressed in business casual, which for him meant dark jeans, a button-down rolled at the sleeves, no tie. He had a meeting with a new beer distributor, which was supposed to have already started.
“What are you doing here?’ she whispered.
He rested his hands on the back of the chair and leaned against it. “I could ask you the same.” His thumb ran up her spine in a stealth move that only the two of them were aware of. She shivered so he did it again.
“She’s partnering me, so don’t distract her. We’re on a roll,” Margo said, and Owen lifted a surprised brow.
“On a roll, huh?”
“I have many talents.”
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Oh, I know.” While Abi was choking on his comment, he walked around the table.
“Hi, Mom.” He went over to give his mom a peck on the cheek, but not before he had let Abi know that he was thinking about her. Which was sweet and reassuring.
She might not know where she stood, but he let her know that he was thinking about her as much as she’d been thinking about him.
Margo radiated when Owen was near her. With six sons to her name, she must be drowning in testosterone, but she didn’t seem to mind. She took his hand between hers and her entire face transformed, softened, glowing with pride and love. It was as if the bitter, puckered woman disappeared and in her place was a warm and caring mother who adored her kids.
It was such a foreign concept to Abi that she didn’t know where to look, so she focused her attention on shuffling the cards. She wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of a love like that. To have a bond so strong that it could withstand the worst.
Abi couldn’t even get her parents in the same room, let alone be civil to one another. She’d spent her life listening to the worst parts of her parents. As a kid, she always wondered if they talked about her like that behind closed doors.
Heck, she still wondered. They’d called a grand total of three times since she was released from the hospital. Oh, they’d come to visit when she’d been in the hospital, but once she was deemed okay by the doctors, they flew back to their respective lives, leaving Abi alone to figure it out. And there was a lot to figure out.
How to get out of the lease for the apartment she and Jenny shared, where to go, how to manage the pain and physical therapy on her own. How to come back from the worst tragedy of her life.
“Did you all know that my Owen here is an artist,” Margo beamed, but Owen was focused on Abi. “He painted every picture in my house and did a mural for Susan.”
“The one of the Italian landscape?” one of the women asked, clearly impressed.
There were someWows andI didn’t knows and anIt’s just stunning.
Owen actually blushed. His cheeks were honest-to-god flushed. She bit back a grin. “I’d love to see the mural. Do you have a photo by chance?”
“Of course I do,” Margo preened. She pulled out her phone and while she was scrolling through, Owen snagged Abi’s gaze, leveling her with abe carefullook. She one-upped him with anOr what?shrug.
His eyes heated and roamed down to her breasts and back up. She gulped because she knew exactly what he was thinking about. She’d been thinking about it nonstop since she’d left his place earlier that afternoon.
“Here, dear,” Margo said to Abi, and Owen lifted a shocked brow at the endearment. She patted Owen’s arm. “Take this to Abi so she can see.”
His eyes locked on Abi, Owen walked around the table and she could practically smell the heat wafting off him. He handed it over and she grinned up at him.
“Here you go,dear,” he whispered the last word.
“My superpower, remember?”
“I remember everything you say,” he said lowly.
It was hard to break eye contact, but the entire table sat rapt, watching the exchange. Abi looked down at the photo and her breath caught. “It’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it,” Margo said. “He came up with the concept and painted it freehand. He’s my most talented son.”
He gripped the back of his neck. “I don’t know about that. I mean you have a Super Bowl champ and Grammy-winning artist.”
