Anything for Her(41)
She let out a ragged breath and reached across the table for her mother’s hand, which had a tremor. “No. No, I swear I’m not, Mom. Just...confused sometimes. It’s scary how much I’ve forgotten.”
Mom’s anguished gaze met hers. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
She had to let this go. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve just been thinking more than usual, that’s all.”
Mom’s shoulders sagged slightly with relief. She reached for her iced tea, and froze. “You haven’t said anything, have you? To Nolan?”
“No!” Never, never, never.
“No. Of course.” Her mother relaxed again. “I shouldn’t have even asked.”
“It’s okay.” Allie forced a smile. “I’m the one who is sorry. We were having such a good time.”
“Don’t be silly. I want you to feel free to talk to me anytime, about anything.” She reached for her fork at last. “Once we’ve eaten, what do you say we walk over to Coldwater Creek next? And stop at any shops on the way that appeal to us.”
“Sounds good,” Allie lied. “I need to drop these bags off at the car first, though. Maybe we can separate and set up a rendezvous.”
They agreed, and, walking the opposite direction her mother went when they left Nordstrom, Allie was glad to be alone for a few minutes. She, who was never mad at her mother, felt as sulky as Sean had last Sunday.
Because a rebellious part of her knew damn well her mother didn’t really want Allie to talk to her, not when the subject was the past. What she also truly didn’t want was Allie ever talking to anyone else about it—ever. And for the very first time, Allie wondered whether that was really because of potential danger, or whether there were other reasons altogether to explain why her mom still held on so tight to her daughter.
* * *
NOLAN PARKED BEHIND Allie’s Corolla and sat for a moment looking up at her apartment.
Sunday had been a crappy day for him, although he’d tried to hide how he felt from Sean. The only place they went was grocery shopping. Otherwise, they played one-on-one in front of the hoop, newly hung Saturday afternoon, and romped with Cassie. He’d gone out with Allie Friday night, and made love with her, although he’d hated having to leave her so quickly. Maybe it was stupid pride that had kept him from asking when they could see each other again, but he couldn’t help realizing that he had made all the moves. And he wanted Allie wholehearted, not reluctant. So he’d left without saying anything but good-night.
Then he’d spent Sunday feeling as jealous as if she was out with another man, and he didn’t even know why.
When the phone rang last night, midevening, he’d pounced on it beneath Sean’s astonished gaze. With an effort he had straightened his shoulders and gone for an air of dignity. “Hey, Allie,” he’d said, and murmured to Sean that he’d take Cassie out. So at least he had some privacy when she invited him to lunch today at her place. He’d accepted instantly, and to hell with the day of work he’d be losing, like he had last Monday.
By the time he climbed the stairs Allie had the door open and was waiting for him. She wore jeans today and a skimpy T-shirt with tiny cap sleeves baring slender, pale arms. Her hair was captured in a loose braid. To him, she looked so beautiful, he immediately felt as dazed, clumsy and tongue-tied as he had when he first met her. He didn’t seem to be the kind of man a woman like her would choose, he sometimes thought fearfully, but the vulnerability and loneliness he’d glimpsed in her made him suspect her looks didn’t have much standing in her self-image.
As he climbed those damn steps that, short-rised as they were, tried to trip him up, Nolan reminded himself that he didn’t know that Allie had chosen him. Maybe from her point of view all they were sharing was a brief, casual relationship. Which might be why she didn’t seem all that eager to share every little bit of herself with him.
Yeah, that would make sense—except he didn’t believe there was much that was casual about Allie Wright. And most especially he had trouble seeing her having casual, never mind brief, relationships.
So maybe she wanted to choose him, but something was stopping her. Or maybe she was merely cautious, and he was impatient, he thought with a certain wry humor. A man who carved granite, impatient for results. Now, there was a picture.
He reached the top and touched her cheek. “Hi,” she said softly, and flowed into his arms. With a struggle he kept the kiss more tender than passionate, because he could smell her cooking.