Page 66 of Finding Peace
Abigail stands at the sink with her back to me, hips swaying softly to the music drifting from her phone propped beside the faucet as she washes dishes.
The kitchen smells like sugar, butter, chocolate, and a fresh pot of coffee. She’s wearing one of Beau’s old flannels, sleeves rolled up, the hem brushing the tops of her bare thighs as she hums along to the song, lost in the moment.
Quietly, I toe off my boots, lean against the wall, and take her in.
Sunlight spills across her, tracing the easy rhythm of how she moves, the flannel hanging loose on her body. It hides more than it shows, but it doesn’t stop me from imagining the rest. My jaw tightens, hands flexing at my sides, the urge to step behind her and touch her becoming harder to ignore by the second. To hold on and never let go. And yet… part of me doesn’t want to move. Entirely to entranced with the sight of her.
Everything I’ve done. Everything I’ll ever do. It’s forthis.This moment, right here.
“Smells good in here,” I say loud enough for her to hear me over the music.
Abigail jumps then laughs, turning just enough to look at me over her shoulder. Her hazel eyes brighten as she smiles at me.
My god, that smile.
“Dessert for tomorrow. Brownies.”
“Hmmm. Lawson will be thrilled.” Pushing off the door frame, I stalk toward her.
She dries her hands on a dish towel and fully turns to face me. Once I reach her, my hands immediately slide across those hips I was so desperate to touch just a second ago—and she feels as amazing as I knew she would.
Raising a brow, she asks, “Did you leave the other three to fend for themselves?”
I smile. “Nah. They got a call about a last-minute auction in Billings. Figured they’d go snag a few cattle so they could be back at a decent time tonight and not have to worry about it tomorrow. They’ll be back after dinner.”
“And they didn’t want to say goodbye?”
“I told them to just head out quick so they could get back. Plus”—I lean down so my lips dust against hers—“I selfishly wanted you all to myself.”
She smiles against my mouth. “Sneaky, sneaky, Mr. Taylor. I knew you were a good lawyer.”
A chuckle slips free before I kiss her softly for a moment. After I’ve had my fill of her—for now—I ask, “Who are the roses from?”
Her smile spreads even wider. “Your dad.”
I blink. “…Excuse me?”
Her laugh rings through the kitchen. “Said he wanted to make sure he got me some, just in case the four of you didn’t.”
What the fuck?
We would never. For the love of God, he dragged us into town once a week to get Mama flowers the entire time we lived with them. We know better. “I—he—we would never—”
She laughs again. “Would you relax. He went to town this morning to grab some for Billie for tomorrow, and he grabbed me some too. You actually just missed him. It was really sweet.”
A smile tugs at my lips as I roll my eyes dramatically. “Leave it to Chris Taylor to try to steal our woman.
She scoffs and swats at my chest. “Oh! While they’re out, could you text them and ask them to pick up some new coffee? That’s the second pot I’ve made, and it still tastes off.”
She gestures to the full cup sitting next to the sink, so I reach around her and take a sip. Besides the fact that she’s put entirely too much cream and sugar in it, it tastes fine to me. But I don’t bother arguing.
Abigail wants new coffee, so she’ll get new coffee. “Sure thing, Sweetheart.”
She spends the next few minutes telling me about her phone call with Kat this morning. And while I’m still not thrilled with her sister, I can already see there’s a lightness in Abigail that wasn’t there this morning. Not only that, but knowing her sister is safe and out of harm’s way is one less thing we have to deal with.
So, I take it as a small win.
I’m just sad this is where her relationship with her sister is at. I know how important Kat is to Abigail. I couldn’t imagine my life without my brother. Or Jasper and Beau, for that matter. The love you get from your sibling is unlike a love you can get from anyone else. But if this isthe best the two of them can do for now, then we have to trust their choices enough not to interfere.
