Anything for Her(12)

“All right,” he said. “Let me know.”

Just like that—Let me know. As if he felt her safety to be a responsibility. That made her feel treasured but also potentially a little uneasy. She was accustomed to taking care of herself.

“You must have done some building,” she commented.

“I worked for a contractor a couple summers while I was in high school. I built my workshop from the ground up.”

She nodded, unsurprised. He had that air of competence. He seemed like the kind of man who would rarely be stumped by anything mechanical, either. “Thank you for dinner, Nolan.”

“Thanks for coming.” She was now his focus, forget the staircase. He touched her cheek with his big, calloused hand. “When I asked, I was practically stammering. I thought you’d make an excuse.”

“No.” Breathless, Allie knew she was tilting her head slightly, seeking his fingers. “I... The minute you came into the store...”

“Good.” His voice was all rumble now, a deep bass. “I want to kiss you, Allie.”

She shivered at the way he said her name. “Yes,” she whispered, and took a step closer to him. With one hand she clutched her purse; the other reached for his shoulder.

Now he cupped her jaw in his palm, his fingertips caressing her earlobe and tickling the small hairs behind her ear. He bent his head slowly, as if to give her time to change her mind. Or maybe he savored the anticipation instead of becoming a bundle of nerves the way she did. His gaze was utterly intent on her.

When his mouth brushed hers with exquisite gentleness, Allie’s eyes closed. Back and forth, the pressure on her lips was first soft, then firmer. He nibbled, tugged at her lower lip. An odd sound slipped out of her, and she rose on tiptoe. Her fingers clenched his shoulder so that she could hold on. Suddenly his mouth was open and so was hers. His hand had slid around to anchor the back of her head, angling her so that he could kiss her deeply, intensely. His tongue was in her mouth, sliding against hers. She’d quit thinking, quit worrying, all sensation physical. She wanted to be closer to him, part of him. Her purse clunked to the ground so she could wind her arms around his neck, stroke the bare skin on his nape. Nothing had ever felt so good.

He groaned, muscles tightening in his shoulders. He separated their mouths. “Allie,” he muttered. “Damn. I didn’t mean to take this so far. God, you’re beautiful.”

She blinked up at him. Enough awareness returned for her to notice that the color of the sky was deepening and headlights must have just swept over them as the next-door neighbor’s van turned into the driveway not more than fifty feet away. They’d have been momentarily spotlighted. Nolan had noticed, but she hadn’t.

She swallowed and sank back onto her heels. “Wow.”

His fingers caressed her scalp. He didn’t seem eager to take his hands off of her. “Can we do something this weekend?” He sounded urgent.

“Yes.” Her own voice came out shaky. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” he said again, so low it felt more like the scrape of bristles on his chin than actual sound. “I’ll call you.”

“Please.”

“Go on.” He picked up her purse and wrapped her fingers around the strap, then gently turned her and nudged her toward the first step. “I’ll watch to be sure you get in safely.”

Which was silly, but nice. Really nice. She climbed the stairs, very aware of him at the bottom. At the top she unlocked her door, waved and told him good-night again, then went in. A minute later, she heard the deep-throated roar of his pickup engine, and he was gone.

Allie stood inside, a hand pressed over her heart. Emotions welled in her: giddy delight, disbelief, aching regret that she hadn’t invited him in even though she never did that. She remembered what she’d said to her mother. I met an interesting man.

She laughed, tossed her purse on the sofa, rose en pointe and twirled, mere inches from the quilt frame that filled her tiny living room.

* * *

LIGHTS WERE ON, but Nolan’s house was quiet when he let himself in. After a glance in the kitchen, he went upstairs and knocked lightly on Sean’s bedroom door.

“Yeah?”

He opened the door and stepped into the opening, leaning one shoulder against the jamb. “Just wanted to let you know I’m home.”

The boy shrugged. He was flat on his back on the bed, his iPod on his chest and the earbuds in. Except for clothes, the iPod was the first thing Nolan had bought for him. He had a laptop now, too, and a printer, but he wasn’t spending much time on the computer, so far as Nolan could tell. Doing his homework, or so he said, but not much else.