Did it matter? So, she wasn’t an open book. Did she have to be? They were fake girlfriends. After this trip, they most likely wouldn’t see each other again. Was there a need to be open—transparent—about her life? Not really. She was interested and curious about her, that was all. Mainly because she found herself liking the other woman, which surprised the hell out of her. Spending time with Nic had proven to be painless and, well, enjoyable. In fact—

“So, I finally get you alone,” came a sultry voice behind her.

She froze, then whipped around, knife in hand as if it could protect her from Holly. That smile—that confident, sure—cocky—smile was on her face. The smile she remembered from last Christmas. The smile that she thought was sexy and charming. The smile that had finally broken her. Well, the smile and a bottle of wine had crumbled her defenses.

“Grab a knife. You can chop celery.”

A throaty laugh was her answer. “Darling, I assure you, I did not come down here to chop celery with you. Aaron is in the shower. And since you’re alone, I assume Nicole is as well.”

“And that means what, exactly?”

“That means I’ve missed you. That means I was looking forward to seeing you again. I was hoping we could perhaps get reacquainted,” she said with a twitch of her eyebrows. “Last year was such fun.”

“Oh my god! You are unbelievable. I am seeing someone, and you are engaged to marry my brother. Remember him?” She turned back around, nearly mutilating the onion as she chopped. Freakin’ unbelievable.

“So? Do either of those things matter, Abigail? You and I, we have a connection. We—”

“Oh, give me a break, Holly. We don’t have a connection.” She held her gaze. “What is it? Is the sex not good enough for you?”

“Let’s just say he’s not you.” She felt Holly move up close behind her. “Can you slip away?” she asked breathily into her ear. “Just for a few minutes, darling?”

Abby felt Holly’s body press against hers, and she closed her eyes, trying to decide how she felt. Aroused? Surprisingly, no. She slid to the side, away from her. “I’m seeing someone. So you don’t get to touch me. Nic can touch me. Not you.” She childishly held the knife between them.

“Yeah, what she said. I’d rather you not touch my girlfriend.”

They both turned, finding Nic standing there, watching them. Nic met first her gaze, then Holly’s.

“So? What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Holly said tersely. “We were just talking. It doesn’t concern you.” She went to the knife drawer and pulled one out. “Abigail wanted me to help chop…what was it? Celery?”