Anything for Her(101)
As soon as she closed the shop, she would drive straight to his house and pray he was there and willing to listen to her.
* * *
NOLAN PARKED HIS truck at the curb in front of the beauty parlor a couple of doors down from Allie’s store and wondered if this was a really bad idea. He sure as hell didn’t want this discussion to be interrupted.
You’ve come this far, he told himself.
He grunted in something close to amusement. He had yet to display any patience at all where Allie was concerned. Why break a streak?
Finally he grabbed the warm bags from the passenger seat, got out, locked the truck and walked the forty feet or so to her door.
He was glad he’d worn his sheepskin coat. The pale gray sky and biting cold hinted at snow. It wasn’t common at this elevation in November, but ski season did typically open Thanksgiving weekend in the Cascades.
Thanksgiving was less than a week away. Not that long ago he’d assumed he would be celebrating it with Allie and her mother as well as Sean. He’d thought about trying to talk his sister into flying out and joining them. He really wanted to see her, and he’d wanted her to meet Allie.
How quickly things changed.
Pausing outside her store, a part of him noted how effective her window display was, with a quilt draped artfully and surrounded by coordinating bolts of fabrics. Several quilting how-to and pattern books lay scattered as if left in an absentminded moment. Enter, the display whispered. Look at the wonders within. You can do this, too, you know. Don’t you want to find out if there’s an artist inside you? Irresistible.
You planning to stand out here for maybe an hour or two?
He muffled a groan and reached for the damn doorknob. It would be just his luck if there were half a dozen women in there, all of whom would turn and stare at him when he walked in.
The bell tinkled and silence enveloped him.
“Hello, I’ll be with you in a moment,” Allie called from out of sight, and he was thrown back to that first day.
He remembered his astonishment at the multitude of fabrics, the colors, patterns, the femininity of his surroundings. But determination had carried him forward, through the alien landscape, until he’d found...Allie.
Determination set his feet on the same path this time, although his goal had changed. He reached the back room, unlike that first time not even taking in the quilt stretched in the frame.
Allie lifted her head, shock widening her eyes. The black leather thimble she was using dropped to the quilt top and she pushed back her chair with a jerk and rose to her feet.
“Nolan?” Her voice squeaked.
He held up the bags, as if they were answer enough. His hungry eyes took her in. Her hair was up in that ballerina-do, exposing the pure line of her neck and throat. She wore one of her skirts that draped artfully, and a formfitting knit top with three-quarter sleeves. She was bright and beautiful, graceful and so precious to him he ached.
“I never thought,” she whispered.
His mouth crooked up. “That I wouldn’t take no as an answer even when you said it loud and clear?”
“Of course that’s not what I meant.”
He set down the bags of food. His fingers flexed. It took an effort of will to make them loosen.
“I told you I love you.” That came out as rough as crude granite.
Allie took a step closer to him, her glorious eyes raised to him. “Nolan, I was going to come and see you. To tell you...”
He ignored her. He had to get this out. “I’m here to say that if they decide to move you, Sean and I want to go, too. With you,” he added, to be absolutely sure she understood. “We’re okay with new names and the whole deal.”
For the longest time she didn’t move, not even to blink or breathe. Nolan tried not to twitch under that stunned stare.
“With me?”
“With you,” he repeated. He cleared his throat. “If you’ll have us.”
She burst into tears.
* * *
OH, HELL. Was her reaction good news for him or bad? Either way, he took her into his arms, tucked her head under his chin and held her tight.
“It’s okay.” He squeezed his eyes shut and laid a cheek against her hair. “God. You don’t have to cry. If you don’t want us, just say so. I’ll go away. I’m not going to become a stalker.”
She grabbed handfuls of his shirt near his spine. He felt the tension in her fingers.
Okay, she was holding on, too. His hopes rose.