Cara.
“Right. I’m right.” Sam folded her arms.
“He’s engaged. I’m not likely to get into any trouble with him.”
“I know Portia. She and he would make a terrible couple. They’re too alike. I bet their sex life is so boring they fall asleep in the middle—”
“Sam!” Abby put her hand on Cara’s shoulder.
Scratching the back of her neck, Sam shook her head. “Good thing I don’t have children. I’d be a terrible mom.”
“You’d be wonderful!”
“I wish you were my mom,” Cara said, her voice wobbly.
In an instant, Abby snapped around and knelt at Cara’s feet, hugging her close against her. She wanted to tell her that she wished Cara were her daughter. But saying that would be irresponsible and might even hurt the girl.
Two thin arms curled around Abby’s neck, hugging her back, and Cara’s forehead pressed against her neck. Seconds later, Abby felt moisture on her neck. Still on her knees, smelling cut wood and wood stain and small girl, Abby swayed, rocking Cara from side to side, crooning wordlessly and wishing she had a secret power to make everything all right for her.
And thinking that if she were married to Holden—which was crazy thinking—she and he could petition for custody.
She loosened her grip. Time for her real life, which didn’t involve a multimillionaire who would make Prince Charming look too pretty. Like the furniture his company made, he exuded solidity.
Cara let go of her. “Are we going to be here much longer?”
Abby stood then wiped wood dust from her knees. “You want to go home to Epic?” Cara’s vigorous nods made Abby smile.
Her underarms and her breasts prickled from the heat. It was in the lower eighties today and humid. She glanced at Sam. “We should put the fans on.”
“Can we afford it?” Sam asked.
“Can we afford not to?”
“The electric bills are in my name. If I can’t pay it, my credit will be mud.”
Abby looked around at the big barn they couldn’t heat adequately in winter or cool in summer.
If only they could charge more.
If only they could afford more.
If only they had more money.
“We’ll have the money soon. I’ve decided to sell the house.” She forced her voice to be steady, forced her shoulders not to droop.
She’d been fooling herself that two weeks would make a difference. The queen of positive thinking was finally admitting that wishing it were so didn’t make it so.
Sam’s eyebrows rose. “Where will you sleep?”
“We’ll be all right.”
“Don’t say your SUV.”
“It’s a big SUV.” Abby laughed and heard the shakiness in her voice. “Just kidding. Once I sell the house, I’ll have money to afford an apartment for me and Grace.” Swallowing, she pictured the big house in the exclusive area where she and Grace had started out. She’d traded that in for the smaller house soon after they realized there was no money. That the unlicensed, drunk driver who’d smashed his van into their parents’ car hadn’t had insurance. And that her parents had been brilliant in their professions but not brilliant at making sure their daughters would be cared for financially.
Abby had never faulted them for it. They hadn’t planned to die so soon.
“You could stay here,” Sam said, her voice gruff, but Abby shook her head. They’d gone through this before.
“It’s not fair to Grace to give up her friends.”
“It’s not fair to you to give up your life.”
She shrugged. “I haven’t given my life away. I’m living every second.” She smiled at her friend. “We’ll manage.”
“You could use the money to pay a factory in China to make the cat furniture.” Sam’s eyes wouldn’t meet Abby’s. “I’ll be okay doing something else.”
“No.” Abby spoke firmly. “We’re in this together. I believe in what we’re doing. We’re putting out a quality product, and the people who purchase our furniture love it. We just need time, and I’m not giving
“Right. I’m right.” Sam folded her arms.
“He’s engaged. I’m not likely to get into any trouble with him.”
“I know Portia. She and he would make a terrible couple. They’re too alike. I bet their sex life is so boring they fall asleep in the middle—”
“Sam!” Abby put her hand on Cara’s shoulder.
Scratching the back of her neck, Sam shook her head. “Good thing I don’t have children. I’d be a terrible mom.”
“You’d be wonderful!”
“I wish you were my mom,” Cara said, her voice wobbly.
In an instant, Abby snapped around and knelt at Cara’s feet, hugging her close against her. She wanted to tell her that she wished Cara were her daughter. But saying that would be irresponsible and might even hurt the girl.
Two thin arms curled around Abby’s neck, hugging her back, and Cara’s forehead pressed against her neck. Seconds later, Abby felt moisture on her neck. Still on her knees, smelling cut wood and wood stain and small girl, Abby swayed, rocking Cara from side to side, crooning wordlessly and wishing she had a secret power to make everything all right for her.
And thinking that if she were married to Holden—which was crazy thinking—she and he could petition for custody.
She loosened her grip. Time for her real life, which didn’t involve a multimillionaire who would make Prince Charming look too pretty. Like the furniture his company made, he exuded solidity.
Cara let go of her. “Are we going to be here much longer?”
Abby stood then wiped wood dust from her knees. “You want to go home to Epic?” Cara’s vigorous nods made Abby smile.
Her underarms and her breasts prickled from the heat. It was in the lower eighties today and humid. She glanced at Sam. “We should put the fans on.”
“Can we afford it?” Sam asked.
“Can we afford not to?”
“The electric bills are in my name. If I can’t pay it, my credit will be mud.”
Abby looked around at the big barn they couldn’t heat adequately in winter or cool in summer.
If only they could charge more.
If only they could afford more.
If only they had more money.
“We’ll have the money soon. I’ve decided to sell the house.” She forced her voice to be steady, forced her shoulders not to droop.
She’d been fooling herself that two weeks would make a difference. The queen of positive thinking was finally admitting that wishing it were so didn’t make it so.
Sam’s eyebrows rose. “Where will you sleep?”
“We’ll be all right.”
“Don’t say your SUV.”
“It’s a big SUV.” Abby laughed and heard the shakiness in her voice. “Just kidding. Once I sell the house, I’ll have money to afford an apartment for me and Grace.” Swallowing, she pictured the big house in the exclusive area where she and Grace had started out. She’d traded that in for the smaller house soon after they realized there was no money. That the unlicensed, drunk driver who’d smashed his van into their parents’ car hadn’t had insurance. And that her parents had been brilliant in their professions but not brilliant at making sure their daughters would be cared for financially.
Abby had never faulted them for it. They hadn’t planned to die so soon.
“You could stay here,” Sam said, her voice gruff, but Abby shook her head. They’d gone through this before.
“It’s not fair to Grace to give up her friends.”
“It’s not fair to you to give up your life.”
She shrugged. “I haven’t given my life away. I’m living every second.” She smiled at her friend. “We’ll manage.”
“You could use the money to pay a factory in China to make the cat furniture.” Sam’s eyes wouldn’t meet Abby’s. “I’ll be okay doing something else.”
“No.” Abby spoke firmly. “We’re in this together. I believe in what we’re doing. We’re putting out a quality product, and the people who purchase our furniture love it. We just need time, and I’m not giving
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