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Why Not Tonight

Page 38

   


He paced for a while, then went into the kitchen and made coffee, but that wasn’t an escape. He could remember what it had been like to have Natalie in his house. How easy she’d made everything. How even now he could see her everywhere.
He’d never thought of her as touched by tragedy. Her story had shocked him. He’d known she lost her mother but hadn’t considered the event had been traumatic. She’d never talked about missing her, not the way she had tonight—he’d had no idea she’d suffered that much. She was so upbeat and happy all the time, yet underneath, she had her pain. Why hadn’t he known that before?
He’d hurt her, he thought as he carried his coffee back into the studio. Not directly, but she felt pain all the same. She thought he was wrong and unappreciative. She could be right about both—he didn’t know. But he did get that he had to make things better, not that he had a clue as to how.
He waited for the oven to get hot enough, then chose his materials. He had another of her origami pieces on his desk—a tiny lion—and studied it before trying to re-create it in glass. The sun was well above the horizon by the time he’d completed what he thought was a halfway decent piece. Then he went into the house to shower.
He got to the office close to noon and parked next to her shiny red car. It was only after he’d gotten out of his truck that he realized unless Natalie had called someone she would have been forced to walk to work. Something else he would have to answer for, he thought grimly.
He found her sitting at her desk. She looked pale and her eyes were puffy, as if she’d spent much of the night crying. As she looked up at him, he found himself hoping she wouldn’t apologize. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
He couldn’t agree with her about Elaine, but he thought he understood how the situation would push her buttons. As for appreciating what he had, when it came to his brothers, he knew she was right. They’d always been there for him and he’d spent the last couple of years being a jackass. All five of them had been lied to and Mathias had lost being a twin. Ronan wasn’t the only brother to have to deal with Ceallach’s crap.
“You’re late,” she said by way of greeting. “It’s nearly lunchtime. Do you really think you can come and go as you please?”
Her gaze was steady and he had no idea what she was thinking.
“Yes,” he told her. “I’m not an employee.”
“You have all the luck.”
He set the small glass lion on her desk. “I’m going to do better. It’s an interesting challenge. This is the best one I have for now. You still mad?”
She picked up the tiny piece of glass and put it on her palm. “I was never mad.”
“You acted mad.”
She stood and crossed to the shelf behind her desk. There were over a dozen small origami shapes there and the other piece of glass he’d made for her. She set this one next to it before turning toward him.
“We’re going to have to agree to disagree.”
“Can you do that?” he asked.
“Yes. Mostly. I’m sad about my mom.”
“I know. I’m sorry for what you went through. I’m sorry she’s gone. I understand that you miss her.”
“More than miss her.”
He nodded, not sure what else to say. “I’m sorry I upset you and I’m sorry I don’t appreciate what you think I have.”
“What I think you have? Meaning you don’t agree with the premise?”
“Elaine is not my mother.”
“You’re a stupid butthead.” She sighed. “But it’s not my rock, so I’m going to put it down now. I believe in my heart of hearts you are as wrong as it is possible to be. You live in wrongness about your mom. You wallow in it. But it’s your decision to make.”
“Even if I’m wrong?”
Her gaze was steady, her expression serious. “Yes. Even if.”
“So you still like me?”
“Sort of.”
“Are we still...together?”
A question he hadn’t planned on asking, but as he spoke the words, he felt a tension in his gut. He didn’t want to lose Natalie. He liked having her around. He liked her and them and how things were now, as opposed to how they’d been before she’d stumbled into his life.
She walked around the desk, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. He held her close, breathing in the scent of her.
“You’re not easy,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I’m still upset.”
“I know.”
“But I’m not going anywhere.”
Relief was cool and sweet and happy. The bands around his chest eased as he took his first deep breath in hours.
“Thank you.”
* * *
THE FLOWERS ARRIVED close to three o’clock. Natalie stared at the huge arrangement of roses, lilies, cymbidium orchids and hydrangea that stood nearly two feet high. The blooms were fresh and colorful but what most caught her attention was the vase. It was a swirl of clear and silver glass she didn’t think had been sitting on the florist’s shelf. She had a feeling it was a custom piece made by a famous glass artist and worth, well, way more than her car!
When her breathing returned to normal, she sank into her chair and touched one of the petals. No one had ever sent her flowers before. Not Quentin or any other boyfriend. She had always supposed she wasn’t the type of woman to inspire flower-giving. At least she hadn’t been before now, and wasn’t it odd that despite the value of the vase, the flowers were even more special?
There was a small card tucked in with the blooms. She opened it and read the single word. Tonight? She recognized the handwriting and knew Ronan had written the card himself. Probably when he’d delivered the vase.
She knew nothing had changed. Ronan still didn’t appreciate what he had and she still didn’t understand. The question was, could she overlook that? She supposed she already had, in a way. She understood that each of them had a different path to travel. That his inability to see what he was turning his back on made him who he was. That even though she wanted to change him, she really couldn’t—he could only change himself.
On the other hand, progress had been made. He was less isolated than he had been and he was working again. While she would love to take credit for all of that, the truth was he’d made the decision to let her in. He could have offered her housing during the storm and then have had nothing to do with her. At least he wasn’t cutting himself off from his brothers anymore.
She thought about what had happened the previous night and how upset she’d been. She thought about how much she cared about him and wished, just for a second, that she could see a future for them together. That she was one of the lucky people who could fall in love and know it would last. Then she went into the studio where she found the three brothers working on a large piece of glass together.
She waited until it had been set aside to cool before walking over to Ronan. He pulled off his protective goggles.
“Thank you for the flowers,” she said softly so his brothers couldn’t hear.
“You’re welcome.”
“Want me to come over tonight?”
Passion and relief flared in his eyes. “Yes.”
“Want me to spend the night?”
“Yes.”
“Want to cook?”