Read Online Wine & Roses by Susan R. Hughes - Free Book Online

be, and how long it could last. After all, he was nine years younger than Abby—and even though an age difference shouldn’t matter in this day and age, she knew it did.
    First and foremost, she couldn’t give him a family. She didn’t even know if he wanted children, and it seemed too soon to ask; but surely it was something he’d considered already, or would very soon, as he was perfectly aware of her age. The only opinion on the matter that he’d expressed to her what that happily-ever-after was a fairy-tale notion, and she’d agreed with him. But attitudes like that could easily change, and in time he might come to want a wife and a family, and again Marguerite was right: a woman Abby’s age would not fit the bill. As much as she’d tried to erase Colin’s hurtful words from her mind, they lingered in the recesses of her memories, and she couldn’t help but fear that Jason would tire of her as her husband had.
    Abby shook her head; she shouldn’t be thinking about marriage and babies when she’d only seen Jason a handful of times, and only once on an official date. But Marguerite, damn her cynicism, had made another good point: no matter how she might tell herself it was what she wanted, Abby wasn’t the type to be satisfied with a casual relationship, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before he was too deep in her heart not to break it once he was gone.
    Marguerite’s hand on Abby’s arm jarred her back to her present circumstances. “You’ll be fine. It’s a great speech. You’re among friends, you know.”
    Abby didn’t have time to reply before people were approaching her, reaching out to shake her hand, congratulating her and peppering her with questions—a welcome distraction from her solemn thoughts.
     
    * * *
     
    He was last to step aboard the boat, just before the gangway was withdrawn. As the vessel shuddered under his feet, he grasped the railing to steady himself, his stomach tightening. Jason hated boats; even a short ferry ride could leave him queasy for hours. But it was too late to disembark now.
    Even that morning, he hadn’t been planning to come here. It was only at the last minute that he’d changed his mind. Buried in paperwork at the winery, he’d been unable to focus on anything but a mental image of Abby’s face, the disappointment in her eyes burned into his brain. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t get through the evening without him, but she had clearly wanted him there. Despite her misgivings about the event, it was a big deal for her, and he couldn’t bear to have her think he couldn’t be bothered to lend his support.
    Jason wandered toward the salon, following several other guests as they entered through the swinging door. Inside, he encountered a crowd of people by the bar, ordering drinks and milling about to chat.
    “I heard they got rather cozy at some charity event last weekend,” said the heavy-set brunette in front of him, blocking his path along with her companion.
    “Hmm. I heard the same thing,” replied the companion, a tall and slender blonde whose back was to Jason.
    “I hear he’s quite a dish,” the brunette remarked. “And young. Good for Abby.”
    The blonde sniffed derisively. “Not so good for Abby, if you ask me.”
    At the mention of Abby’s name, Jason’s head snapped up. He recognized the blonde then—it could only be Marguerite, Abby’s friend, whom he’d met at Abby’s birthday party two years ago. He hadn’t seen her since, but her thick white-gold mane was unmistakable even from the back, a jarring contrast to her darkly tanned shoulders. He turned away abruptly, pretending to study a nearby poster depicting the cover of Abby’s new novel. Murder on the Mezzanine was emblazoned across it in red letters, above an image of a dimly lit theatre, a pale arm draped limply over a balcony.
    “What do you mean?” he heard the brunette ask.
    “It just seems doomed from the start to me,” Marguerite went on tartly.