Page 86 of Just My Luck
I looked down at the Abel’s Brewery logo on my T-shirt and smiled. Today the ownership of Abel’s Brewery would be official. By the end of the business day, Russell King would no longer control Abel’s business.
We did it.
“Morning!” I chirped with a sunny smile.
“Hi, Mom.” Tillie didn’t look up from her sketch, and Ben continued his one-sided conversation as Abel listened.
When he turned, Abel stopped and stared.
Heat and passion flared in his eyes. I was in a simple T-shirt and black leggings, but Abel made me feel as though I was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. A warm blush crept up my cheeks.
My eyes swooped down and back up again, only to find him still looking at me. I rounded the counter and popped a kiss onhis cheek. We’d never been openly affectionate, and it stopped Abel in his tracks.
“Morning.” I smiled up at him and turned to grab myself a plate to keep my blush from deepening.
My chaste kiss didn’t seem to register with the kids. Tillie kept drawing, and Ben was reliving the slightly scary movie I’d reluctantly agreed to let them watch last night.
He bumped his sister’s arm. “Remember the witch? Man, she was gross...”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tillie complained. “I don’t really like scary movies.”
“Did you have a nightmare?” I asked my daughter, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She shook her head and continued quietly working on shading her drawing.
“Do you ever have nightmares, Abel?” Ben asked during his stream of consciousness.
The loaded question hung in the air as I looked at Abel. He’d stopped plating the french toast, and a deep line formed between his eyebrows.
He nodded slowly as he looked at Ben. “Yeah, I do.” He lifted a shoulder. “Sometimes.”
“What are they about?” Ben asked.
“Ben,” I scolded. I knew what Abel’s nightmares were about and that he certainly didn’t want to rehash them to a nosy seven-year-old over breakfast.
“It’s okay,” Abel said, turning to Ben. “I was in an accident once and a woman got hurt. Her little boy died. Usually if I have a nightmare, it’s about that.”
Ben’s wide, innocent eyes were pinned to Abel as though he knew he’d done something wrong by bringing it up. “Oh.”
Abel reached across the island to squeeze Ben’s shoulder and reassure him that he hadn’t done anything wrong by beingcurious. “It’s okay, buddy. You’re allowed to ask me things. And I will always be honest with you.”
Comforted, Ben’s eyes flicked to me, and I offered a soft smile and nod of reassurance.
Abel slid a plate in front of Ben and another near Tillie.
Ben took a huge bite, and syrup dribbled onto the plate. Around his bite, he continued, “My therapist says that bad dreams are normal and our brain’s way of dealing with things. Is that what your therapist says?”
Abel made me a plate and deposited it in front of me before dropping a soft kiss on my forehead. “Uh... I don’t have a therapist, bud.”
Ben hummed as he frowned over his food. “Oh... well, maybe you should.”
A shotgun burst of laughter escaped me as I mused over the directness of my child. My hand covered my mouth, and I apologetically looked at Abel.
As though he was totally unfazed, a smile hooked at the corner of his mouth. “You might be right. Maybe I should talk to someone.” He forked a mouthful of french toast before gesturing toward Ben’s plate. “Eat up and you can tell me what you like about it.”
Abel glanced at me and winked. My ovaries nearly exploded as I watched how at ease he was with my kids. Somehow we’d formed a warm little cocoon, and I never wanted to leave. My eyes moved to his lips when he smiled and mouthedlove you.
My heart tumbled over itself. Abel was full of surprises.