Chapter 34

34

Freya followed Abbie up the grand staircase, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.

Abbie gave her hand a squeeze. “I am so excited to help you pick a dress.”

Freya smiled in return. When Abbie had suggested she borrow a dress, she’d been grateful for the gesture but also for the opportunity to have a little time away from Abe.

This morning when she’d woken, she had wanted nothing more than to explore the big male body sprawled at her side.

But the unfamiliar and intense feelings she felt in his company unsettled her. The only emotions she’d allowed in her life until now had been confined to her romance books. She’d long thought them only fantasy, but the flutter in her chest when she was close to him and the heat that licked through her body from his touch were startlingly similar to the sensations she’d read about.

It was thrilling and exciting, but also scary.

She’d lived her adult life in neat compartments. She didn’t deal with unknowns. Only absolutes. But Abe had blown all of that out of the water and then some. He didn’t fit into any of her compartments.

The way he made her feel made her want to run, even though deep down she suspected it was too late to run—she was already in far too deep.

Abbie was chattering, unaware of her churning thoughts. “I swear Fox buys me a new dress every time we have some event to go to, and as the soon-to-be wife of a Duke, believe me, there are plenty.” She pushed open the door of her bedroom and beckoned for Freya to follow.

Stepping into the room, Freya breathed out, attempting to focus on the here and now.

“Over here.” Abbie tugged on Freya’s hand.

The immense room, decorated in soothing shades of blue, exuded a calm and welcoming vibe. There were glimpses of Abbie’s personality scattered throughout. A framed picture of her daughter Mia on the dresser, a collection of small watercolors with Abbie’s initials adorning the walls.

Freya touched the bottom edge of one frame. “You paint?”

Abbie shrugged one shoulder, a hint of modesty in her gesture. “For fun.”

“They’re fantastic,” Freya said, impressed.

Abbie pinked. “Thanks. Thom hung them. It’s taken a little while to get used to seeing them there.” She faced Freya. “Do you paint?”

“Um.” I have no hobbies. All I do is work . “No. I don’t.” Even Einar had interests. He was going to an art exhibition tonight.

“Well, maybe after all this.” Abbie’s face lit up. “We could paint together?”

“I’d like that,” Freya replied, surprised to find she meant it.

Abbie moved toward the far side of the room, her hand resting on two large double doors. “Are you ready?”

Feeling slightly overwhelmed, Freya clutched at her elbows. “Something simple would be fine. Perhaps you could just pick out a nice black dress?”

Abbie threw her hands up in mock exasperation. “Nice black dress? You are not going to the Dorchester in a ‘nice black dress.’ We are going to knock Abe’s socks off.”

“We’re not, I mean...”

Abbie just beamed and threw open the doors.

Lights automatically switched on, illuminating a space that snatched Freya’s breath away. This was no mere walk-in closet; it was an entire room. Racks of perfectly hung clothes lined the walls down to the far end, where shelves of shoes in every color were stacked from floor to ceiling.

“Come in.” Abbie beckoned.

Freya stepped inside. “Is this all yours?”

Abbie nodded, running her hand along a nearby rail. “Thom’s dressing room is on the other side. His is far more boring—all dark suits and tactical gear. Which, I admit, he looks ridiculously hot in, but still. Zero creativity.” She waved her hand dismissively before gesturing around her own space. “But this ? This is where I have fun.”

She tugged at the sleeve of Freya’s pink top, the one Asta had loaned her. “Let’s get you out of this and into something that doesn’t say ‘I’ve given up on life.’ Sit.”

She nudged Freya onto a plush island seat before diving into the ranks of dresses. One by one, she draped them over her arms until she had amassed a colorful collection. With a flourish, she deposited them on a turquoise velvet chair next to the mirror.

She grinned over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “I’ll be right outside. Holler when you have one on, and we can see if it screams Goddess.”

Freya ran her fingers over the pile of dresses, feeling the luxurious fabrics beneath her fingertips. She’d always chosen clothes for practicality, never for decoration. She had one black dress she wore to every formal occasion—a knee-length, sensible piece with a modest neckline, and most importantly, machine washable.

But Abbie’s evening gowns were in a completely different league.

Opulent fabrics in rich colors shimmered as she touched them, and some were so light, they were more air than fabric. Freya pulled on an emerald-green dress, admiring its delicate capped sleeves and the way the bodice hugged her figure before cascading in a waterfall of fabric to the floor.

She smoothed the material over her stomach, feeling out of place. She’d never worn anything this extravagant before. The designer tag alone made her hesitate, as if the price would somehow make it even more dangerous to wear. It was exquisite, far beyond anything in her closet—hell, far beyond anything she’d even dreamed of owning.

When she stepped out, Abbie gave a little squeal. “Oh, my God. Where have you been hiding yourself?”

Freya stared at her toes. Compliments, especially ones so unscientific, made her uneasy. She needed to remember why she was doing this. It wasn’t about impressing Abe. “I’m not sure if it matters how I look?—”

Abbie’s expression shifted, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Oh, it matters . Have you seen the way he looks at you? Like you’re the first sunny day after a month of rain. And let me tell you, guys like Abe don’t look at just anyone like that.” She arched an eyebrow. “And last night, you two shared the same room?”

Freya’s face warmed. “Well, yes, but I’m not sure what’s happening between us. It might just be adrenaline, making everything feel more intense. It’s all very confusing.” She bit her lip. She was so out of her depth.

Abbie grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Sweetie, take your time with Abe. See what he’s about. Don’t go throwing in the towel just because your brain’s in overdrive.” Her smile lit up her hazel eyes. “Your heart might know something you don’t. Now enough with the overthinking! Joelle’s coming at three to work her magic on your hair, and you still haven’t picked a dress.”

Freya headed back into the dressing room. Joelle. Hair at three. She glimpsed herself in the mirror—her freshly washed hair had frizzed up into a close approximation of a dandelion puff. Maybe a hair appointment wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

She picked up another dress from the pile, this one a deep red. The satin felt thick and butter-soft between her fingers. She carefully hung the green one back up, then pulled on the red dress, the fabric gliding over her skin.

When she stepped back, her eyes wandered over Abbie’s impressive collection of heels. She spotted a pair of nude satin pumps. Size five. Perfect. She slipped them on, and instantly the dress fell into place, the hem lifting elegantly off the floor.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror and, for a moment, felt like a child playing dress-up. Soon, this would all be over and Abe would return to his work, while she would return to her work at the University in Reykjavik. Their lives were worlds apart. Where was the middle ground?

Abbie called out, “You okay in there, sweetie?”

“Sure,” Freya replied, straightening up. She took a deep breath and pressed the heels of her hands over her eyes. A moment of solitude in the darkness to collect herself.

She wasn’t the same woman she’d been only a few days ago. She’d changed, right? Felt things she never would have thought in a million years. She wanted things she’d never thought she would want. A man in her life. A rugged, caring, over-protective alpha-bear of a man. Could she and Abe ever be as happy as Fox and Abbie?

She took hold of the dressing room doors and pushed them open. “Can you help me with the zip?”

Abbie clamped a hand over her mouth. “You realize you’re a literal bombshell in that dress? He’s going to lose his mind when he sees you.” She tugged the zip closed.

“Um. Thank you.” Another compliment . Freya bounced a knuckle against her mouth, nervous. “You seem very happy here. I know you and Mia went through some difficult times before you met Fox.” Abe had spoken a little about Abbie and her daughter during the long submarine dive.

“There have been some difficult times.” A cloud flitted across Abbie’s gaze. She straightened, her eyes sharp once more. “But I’m a lucky woman and now I have Thom. He means the world to me and Mia.”

“How does it work for you? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

Abbie pulled open a velvet lined drawer and lifted out a diamond bracelet. She held it up to the light. “I don’t mind at all.” Her smile was genuine, and for a moment, Freya ached for her lab, for the quiet comfort of working alongside Tinna. She missed her assistant.

“We make it work.” Abbie looked thoughtful. “We split our time between here and Norway. It’s not always easy, but we prioritize each other.”

Freya shook her head as Abbie slid the bracelet around her wrist. “Wow. This is too much.”

“No. it’s not. Trust me, the dress needs it.” Abbie clasped Freya’s hands. “If you want it to work, you’ll find a way. Iceland and Norway are not so far apart.”

“Oh.” Freya blinked. “I didn’t mean the distance.”

“No?” Abbie draped a matching necklace around her throat. It blazed white fire under the lights as Freya breathed.

“It’s more than that. We’re just so different as people. I’m not sure I can give Abe what he deserves.”

Abbie fastened the necklace. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being with Thom, it’s that love doesn’t ask permission. It happens. You don’t choose it and it doesn’t always show up when or where you expect. It crashes in, uninvited, makes itself at home, and rearranges your furniture.”

Freya laughed. “You make it sound so disorganized. I’m not sure I’m cut out for that.”

“Sometimes it’s good to shake things up a little.” Abbie winked. “Sometimes your sofa needs to be in the kitchen. Keeps things interesting.”

“You might be right.” She had spent so much of her life in control—calculating, planning, making sure every detail was in order.Maybe a little chaos wasn’t such a bad thing.

Abe was different. Unpredictable. But there was freedom in how he lived his life. A spontaneity that, if she let herself admit it, was exciting. Could they make this work? She didn’t have all the answers, but maybe that was the point. Maybe, for once, she didn’t need to.

Maybe love wasn’t something to be figured out—just lived.

Abbie fussed over the drape of the off-the-shoulder straps, then gave a dramatic sigh. “Freya, tell me you’re thinking what I’m thinking.”

Freya smiled, rolling her shoulders back, standing a little taller.

She would help Abe fix things, make things right.

And if this whole thing between them—whatever it was—didn’t last forever, that was okay. She’d had an incredible experience with an incredible man, and no one could take that from her. She was done worrying about what might happen. Done letting fear hold her back.

When she met Abbie’s gaze in the mirror, her heart somersaulted. The woman staring back wasn’t the same person who’d met Abe only a few short days ago. She was stronger. Braver. Ready.

“This is the dress.”