Anything for Her(20)

He and Allie had time to uncover each other’s reality. There was no hurry.

Braking in front of the house, he hid a grin from his son. No hurry, except for the getting-her-into-bed part. His body was getting damned impatient.

Not getting out yet, he gazed at the garage with its peaked roof. “Yep, a hoop’ll look great up there,” he said. He held up one hand, palm first, and Sean slapped it in an exuberant high five.

“Yeah!”

In total accord, they hopped out and went around back to let down the tailgate and collect the groceries.

Nolan hoped he wasn’t trying to buy his foster son’s affection, but he didn’t think so. Deep inside him was rooted the belief that parents should do their best to give their kids what they needed. Whatever else he could say about his own parents, they’d done that.

He, Jed and Anna had worn the right clothes to fit in. They’d been given bikes and even cars—albeit beaters—when the time came for each. And, yes, Dad had hung a basketball hoop above the garage. Anna hadn’t been interested, but Jed and Nolan had enjoyed some good times with that hoop. He wanted the same for Sean.

There was nothing wrong with that, was there?





CHAPTER FOUR



FABRIC RIPPLED AS Mrs. Sellers pressed her substantial way down an aisle. Three hundred pounds if she was an ounce, she emerged triumphant at the back of Allie’s store. There she stood blinking at a sight she clearly found startling.

“A new student?” She looked suspicious.

Allie’s mouth twitched at the expression on Nolan’s face. He sat kitty-corner from her at the table, where they’d been eating lunch. “I’m afraid I haven’t converted him yet. Mrs. Sellers, this is a friend of mine, Nolan Radek. Nolan, Honoria Sellers, one of my favorite customers.”

He stood and extended a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Mrs. Sellers’s now-slit-eyed gaze lowered to Nolan’s large, work-roughened hand. It was a long, grudging moment before she placed her own tiny, plump hand in his for the briefest of shakes.

She then surveyed their partially eaten lunches, spread out on the table. “A friend, you say.”

Allie heard the beginnings of a laugh next to her, ended when Nolan cleared his throat.

“Yes,” she said hastily. “We met when Nolan brought me a marvelous late-nineteenth- or early-twentieth-century quilt top to hand-quilt.” She told Mrs. Sellers the story and rhapsodized about the workmanship in the piecing. Her customer’s bristles subsided as Allie talked, until her nod at Nolan was almost pleasant.

“Good for you, helping that boy remember family. I can see why Allie likes you.” Mrs. Sellers’s gaze switched to Allie. “I’ve decided to buy the green leaf print for the backing of my quilt. You’ve got enough, don’t you? You haven’t sold any off that bolt since I was in Friday?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Allie said truthfully. “I hid it away in back. Let me go grab it. And, yes, it’s nearly a full bolt. There’s plenty.” She stood. “Excuse me,” she murmured to Nolan, who nodded.

By the time she’d fetched the bolt from her small back room, taken it up front and cut the required yardage with her rotary cutter, several other women had arrived and spread out through the store. Allie rang up Mrs. Sellers’s purchase and went to the back to rescue Nolan, who was being grilled by a pair of elderly women.

Instead of being greeted by an expression of desperation, she found him suppressing a grin. She felt a now-familiar squeezing sensation in her chest. For some strange reason, his smiles always took her by surprise, rearranging his face until plain was the last word that came to mind.

“These ladies want to know what a rude, crude man is doing, loitering around here,” he explained, straight-faced.

They both giggled. “Now, you know we never said any such thing!” the elder of the two sisters protested.

He smiled at her. “I was encapsulating.”

She visibly melted. So did Allie.

“Nonsense,” Edith declared. “We’re delighted to see Allie has found a rude, crude man.” She patted his shoulder. “It’s past time. She’s such a lovely young woman.”

Nolan’s very blue eyes met Allie’s. “Yes, she is.”

Of course, he couldn’t say anything else, could he? But she blushed anyway. “We were only having lunch and chatting, Edith.” Well, it’s true, she insisted to herself, even though she knew it wasn’t true at all. They’d been...bonding. Exchanging important information. Flirting, too.