Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(34)

This couldn’t be happening; it just couldn’t.

Only it was.

Sucking in a deep breath to center herself, Libby sat upright and squared her shoulders. She reached for her knitting. She’d discovered that holding the needles and yarn calmed her. Although her hands trembled and she was forced to catch a sob or two, she managed to complete an entire row without an error. The baby blanket pattern was the most difficult project she’d tackled. She wasn’t even sure why she’d chosen to knit it. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time. No shaping, no need to sew it together once she’d finished. Lydia had one knitted up for display, and Libby had been drawn to it. The progression from the preemie hats to a blanket had seemed natural enough—like the hats, the blanket would most likely be given to a charity.

After knitting for an hour, Libby’s nerves had relaxed, but only a little. Every time her mind took her to an uncomfortable place she forced her thoughts in a different direction. She refused to entertain a single flashback of her failed marriage or what had happened with Phillip that afternoon. To do so would only upset her more, and she was distressed enough. What a mess she’d made of her life …

Her doorbell chimed, interrupting her musings. It was so rare to get company that all Libby did was stare at the front door. By the time she stood, the doorbell had rung a second time. Apparently whoever was on the other side was impatient.

“Hold on,” she said. Checking the peephole, she gasped and rolled away from the door, flattening her back and her hands against the wall.

Phillip Stone.

“Libby,” he called. “I know you’re in there. Open up.”

Biting into her lower lip so hard she almost broke the skin, she twisted the deadbolt and opened the door.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded with great bravado. Her heart felt as if it was about to explode. At this rate she would never need to exercise again. All she needed to raise her pulse was Phillip Stone.

“Nice to see you, too. Are you going to invite me inside?”

Keeping her hand on the doorknob, she reluctantly moved out of the way.

Phillip walked three feet into her condo, paused, and looked around. “Nice view.”

Libby was fairly certain he hadn’t stopped by to gaze at the Seattle skyline.

“You can close the door now, if you’d like.”

He was bossy, too. Libby shut the door and then leaned against it, needing its support. “Why are you here?” she asked a second time.

“To be perfectly frank, I haven’t figured that out myself.” He walked over to the couch and sat in the very spot she’d so recently vacated.

“As you can see, I’m fine … I apologize for that emotional display, but I’m in control now.”

“Good.” He hesitated and then commented, “When I get upset I usually have a shot of good whiskey.”

“Not my thing,” Libby told him, cringing at the thought. She had a bottle of wine in the refrigerator, but frankly she wasn’t in the mood.

Not knowing what to say, Libby claimed the chair across from him and pressed her two hands between her knees. The silence felt awkward and strained. She was content to wait him out. Eventually he’d get bored and leave. At least that was what she hoped.

Finally Libby couldn’t stand it any longer. “Did you stop by to embarrass me even more?”

He arched his brows as though her question surprised him. “No. I came to make sure you made it home all right.”

“As you can see I … did.”

That didn’t appear to satisfy him. “You want to tell me what happened back there?”

“No.” Libby had no intention of explaining what had led to that dreadful scene. She’d embarrassed herself enough for one day and wasn’t looking to repeat the performance. Besides, she’d blurted out more than she’d intended earlier. “I believe I already told you everything …” Actually she’d told him more than she was comfortable admitting.

Leaning forward, he set his elbows on his knees and rubbed his palms together.

“I’m not normally like this,” Libby blurted out. Naturally, she’d been upset before. Losing her position with the law firm had been traumatic, too. But it hadn’t caused her to throw herself into a man’s arms and sob her heart out. “Let me put it this way. I am usually able to control my emotions; today was an exception.”

“Good to know.”

She’d been on the verge of calming down when Phillip Stone had arrived. Her pulse had returned to an even rhythm, and she’d managed to herd her thoughts away from the keen embarrassment. Now all her emotions threatened to burst free again. “I was doing just fine until you came along.” Her voice wobbled slightly before she regained control.

“I see. Then it’s all my fault.”

“Yes, exactly.” She smiled in spite of herself. He really was the most surprising man.

He smiled back. “I was worried about you,” he said, speaking low.

“I … I’m okay now.”

He leaned forward and reached for her hand. His touch felt cool against her heated skin.

“How did you know where I live?” she asked without looking up. Her phone number was unlisted.

“I asked Sharon. She had your volunteer form on file.”