Read Online Abby Road by Ophelia London - Free Book Online

Chandler a sandwich for later.” He took a step toward me. “You’ve eaten at Modica?”
    “Not for ages, and never under threat of being scowled to death.”
    He chuckled. “You’re funny.” But he said it like he was surprised by the fact. “You should try their tuna,” he continued. “I don’t eat it, but some call it ambrosia.”
    “Why don’t you eat it, then?”
    “No fish unless I catch it myself. A rule I have.”
    “Tough guy,” I said, picturing him all macho on the bow of a boat, rough waves, pole clutched in his hands.
    “So?” he said, wrenching me to the present. “Want some lunch?”
    “Food?”
    He laughed. “That’s usually how it works.”
    I pushed out my bottom lip, taking a quick consensus of my inner condition. No signs of barfiness. No bile. All systems go. My hand patted my empty and suddenly ravenous stomach. “I haven’t had tuna in a long time. Ambrosia, you say?”
    He nodded. “It’s my treat. I insist,” he tacked on, not actually giving me an opportunity to object. “It’s the least I can do for our town’s inexcusably shoddy treatment of a . . . visitor.”
    I smiled. It felt good to be treated like a lady for a change.
    “Lunch sounds great, actually. Thanks.” As we smiled at each other, I felt a weird kind of sizzle up the back of my neck. Well, not that weird. I knew exactly what it meant. “So, where to?” I asked, forcing myself to speak and not just pin him against the wall.
    “Modica’s, of course.”
    “What? Are you crazy?” I screeched. “I am not going back in there. Evil Santa will call the cops.”
    “Who?”
    “Evil Santa.”
    Todd looked perplexed as he translated my description. “Oh. Well, Bob likes to bark, but I’m sure he’s forgotten the whole red currant scandal by now. I’m a very loyal customer.” His green eyes widened, kind of pleadingly. “So . . . ?”
    “Well.” But it was no use. I was melting under his eager gaze. “Okay,” I finally relented. And with the plan settled, I bounced to his side.
    “What should we talk about on the way?” he asked. “Weather? Politics? Your choice.”
    “How much time do we have?”
    He looked down at our slowly pacing feet and then up at the sun, pretending to gauge Galileo-style. He rubbed his chin. “Approximately seven point five minutes, at this rate.”
    I tried not to crack up at what automatically popped into my head. “Anything?”
    “No subject off limits.”
    “Tell me, then,” I began, not missing a beat, “why did your last relationship end?”
    This comment was me bypassing small talk and going right for the jugular. I was about as subtle as a southern hurricane. I believe Molly would’ve been proud.
    Todd didn’t seem fazed, however. He merely slowed his pace. “Aha.” He faced me, looking both surprised and impressed. “You don’t mess around, do you?”
    “So says Mister I-Catch-My-Own-Tuna.”
    He chuckled and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. A few people passed by on the footpath. I barely noticed them. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Well, there were a number of reasons why it ended. How elaborate would you like me to be?”
    “Spare me anything I can use against you in court.”
    “She was a safe bet. I was into safe bets at the time.” He shrugged. “But recently, I promised myself . . . well, let’s just say I don’t take safe bets anymore on anything. Ever.”
    “Why?” I asked, surprised at his sternness.
    One of his hands clutched the back of his neck and then went running up his head, scratching the top. When I’d spotted him yesterday at the bookstore, I’d zeroed in on his classic good looks. But now the lines of concentration etched into his face made him a different kind of handsome. More real. I could tell that Todd was someone with life experience and stories to tell. I couldn’t wait to hear them. He slowed his pace again and turned to look me in the eyes.
    “What I want now in a relationship, Abby— No.”