Читать книгу Groom in Training - Gail Martin Gaymer - Страница 10

Nick sat at his office desk, sorting through his mail. As he shifted the piles that needed attention to various slots, a small envelope slipped onto his desk. He placed the new mail into its box, then picked up the invitation and looked inside the envelope, recalling he’d mailed the RSVP card. He’d accepted.

Nick eyed the calendar. Brent Runyan’s wedding. June 6. A jaded feeling settled in his chest. Since Cara had walked out, weddings never seemed the same. The usual joyful occasion left a bad taste in his mouth. How many weddings had he attended since that day? How much self-doubt had he pondered without an answer? What’s more, he hated going to weddings alone. He felt like a drill without a bit. But excuses wouldn’t cut it. He’d be there to celebrate Brent Runyan’s special day. He’d been involved in business dealings with Runyan Industrial Tool Supply since he began his company. He and Brent had become more than acquaintances.

Steph’s image rose in his mind. He could ask her to go to the wedding with him, but it might be too presumptuous on his part. Still…June 6. The date loomed over him, and he needed to make a decision. Wasn’t that the day she already had a wedding to attend? He drew up his shoulders, guessing he wouldn’t have asked her anyway.

He liked Steph. A lot. Might she be a woman who would enjoy his company without a romantic commitment? That was the only way he could handle a relationship now. She seemed receptive to talking and walking the dogs. Maybe she’d go for a casual non-date to a wedding?

A smile stole to his lips, thinking of her quirky humor and her fortitude. Martin hadn’t flattened her with his over-bearing manner. She’d been as strong as Martin. Nick wished he could be as resolute with Martin. And she had a heart for animals. He loved her enthusiasm when she worked with Fred or even talked about dogs.

Steph’s heart was filled with kindness and goodness. The thought locked him to the spot. They’d talked about a number of things, yet he’d never heard her talk about her faith, not even a reference to church attendance or the Bible. He knew that people who didn’t believe could be good people, but what about Steph? He lowered his head, admitting he’d never broached the subject.

His faith certainly wasn’t perfect. His brother’s, either. Martin had a devotion to things he valued—their mother, Suzette, his business. But faith? Nick wasn’t certain. Martin didn’t handle life as Jesus would have him do. He was too quick to anger and too unwilling to forgive. His marriage ended in a disaster, and he’d shied away from women since then. Nick questioned if his own singleness was based on the same fear. Marriage meant forever in God’s eyes. Nick saw no room for a mistake.

No matter where his thoughts strayed, they kept returning to Steph. He wanted to get to know her, but he feared he had little to offer a woman right now. His business took attention, and his finances were tangled in his company. His small apartment couldn’t compare to Steph’s lovely house. And it was paid for, at that.

He winced. Her husband had died, then the house became hers. Not a good way to pay off a mortgage. Loss. He’d had his fill. First he’d lost his dad, and now his mother’s illness left a hole in his heart. Loss didn’t have a timeline. He wondered if Steph still grieved.

Nick pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Why even think of getting involved with a woman in any kind of relationship. And definitely not romance. Time is what it took, and he didn’t know how to use his. He’d learned that lesson from Cara. Time? He shook his head. What was he talking about? Every moment he could he found an excuse to visit Steph. Time wasn’t an issue. So if he didn’t want to get involved, why did he continue to pursue a friendship?

Nick drew in a deep breath, fighting his reaction—pounding heart, racing pulse, heat rising up his chest. The sensations made no sense at all. He and Steph were only acquaintances. Real friendships took years.

The phone jarred his thoughts, and he grasped the receiver. When he heard Martin’s voice, his tension doubled. “What’s up?”

“I’m working late. Could you drop by and check on Suzette’s water and let her out before she tears up the house?”

“The dog needs training or a cage.”

“Cage?” Martin’s voice shot through the line. “I’m not putting her in a cage.”

Nick’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I’ll stop by, but obedience training would be good for her. She needs—”

“I’m in a hurry. Will you or won’t you help me out?”

“I said I would. Just think about what I said.”

Martin muttered something and disconnected while Nick stared at the receiver, realizing the only female truly in his life at the moment was Suzette.

Fred let out an excited yip and startled Steph. “What’s up with you?”

The doorbell rang, answering her question. Curious, Steph peeked out the window. No car in the driveway or in front. She shrugged and strode to the door, expecting a neighbor child soliciting for their school’s fundraiser.

She swung it open and faltered.

“Hi.” His broad grin caught her by surprise. “Just dropped by to see how you’re fairing.”

As always, her pulse skipped up her arm, and she pushed open the screen. “Would you like to come in?”

He strode in without a second thought, and she ushered him into the living room.

Steph eyed him a second. “You’re not here with a subpoena, are you?”

“No subpoena.” He gave her a wink. “Martin’s late, and I have to run some errands so I need to let Suzette out for a run before she tears up the house.”

She motioned for him to sit, and he settled into the easy chair. Today he looked amazing. He wore a sport coat—plaid in shades of brown—with khaki pants, dressier than usual, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “You’re not forgetting a meeting with someone, are you?”

A faint flush appeared on his cheeks.

“Not today. I checked my calendar.” He folded his hands between his knees, and Fred took it as an invitation to sniff his fingers. Nick let him, then unfolded his hands to pet Fred.

“If he’s bothering you, he’ll stop if I tell him.”

“He’s fine.” He continued stroking Fred’s coat. The dog appeared in ecstasy. “Suzette should be this calm.”

“She would with obedience training.” She studied his face, dark eyes, almost bitter chocolate, canopied by a sweep of dark brows and hair the color of cordovan leather. When his gaze caught hers, her pulse skipped.

Nick tilted his head. “She needs it.” He released a lengthy breath. “I doubt if Martin would bother.”

She rolled her eyes, agreeing.

“I came to look at the fence and see what we could do.” He gave Fred’s head another tousle and rose.

“But Fred hasn’t dug since that day. Hopefully, I won’t have any more conflicts with your brother.”

He grinned and motioned toward the backyard. “Let’s take a look anyway.”

Agreeing was easier. She enjoyed his company. Steph led him to the kitchen, then through the sliding door to the patio, hoping whatever he came up with wouldn’t cost a fortune.

Nick headed to the fence. It looked different than when she’d met him two weeks earlier. The stubbled earth now sprouted colorful tulips and golden daffodils along the chain links. Since that day her life had colored as brightly.

Nick probed the ground with a piece of tree limb he’d found in the yard. “Bricks or concrete might do it. Let me see what I can do.” He eyed his brother’s yard, then strode along the fence to the back.

Steph assumed he was looking for places Fred had dug, but she knew her dog. Suzette had stirred up Fred that day just as Nick had affected her. The admission made her nervous. She gazed at Nick’s broad shoulders as he ambled along the fence. His dark hair picked up a sheen from the sunlight, and she pictured his dark brows arching above his glinting eyes. The man lifted her up like no one had in years.

Doug’s death had weighted her with guilt. What could she have done to cause him to take his own life? What could she have done to save him? Those questions had darkened her life for too long. Today she felt buoyant. Hopeful. Even though Nick could easily walk out of her life tomorrow, he’d helped her make strides. She knew now that if she could convince herself she had nothing to do with Doug’s death, she could find happiness again.

“How about a high brick wall?”

Nick turned with a laugh just as Fred started barking.

Steph spun around.

The dog scampered across the yard, chasing a squirrel who dashed up her maple tree. Fred sat below while the critter chittered at him from above.

“The poor squirrel. Fred’ll stay there forever if I let him.” Steph clapped her hands. “Fred, come.”

The dog did a double take, obviously not wanting to leave his post, but he changed his mind and trotted to Steph, his head twisting to make sure the squirrel hadn’t escaped.

“Good dog.” Steph patted his head, wishing she had a treat.

Nick headed toward her, his eyes no longer on the perimeter of the fence but on her. “You’re right. No more digging.”

“Told you.”

He chucked her under the chin. “Suzette’s to blame. A woman can get under a man’s skin and cause him to do things he’s never done before.”

A man could do the same. He could burrow into a woman’s heart and cause her to feel things she hadn’t felt in years.

Nick rested his hand on her arm. “You have a real way with Fred.”

“That’s what obedience training does. It works.” She hoped she made her point.

He backed up, a playful expression spreading across his face. “Yes, but does it work on you?”

“On me?” She searched his eyes.

He clapped his hands. “Steph, come.”

Her feet moved toward him like a magnet. He slipped his hand on her shoulder and gave her a long look. “Good girl.”

Their eyes locked. She couldn’t move. She blinked, her control draining. She broke the connection, but her gaze lowered, drawn to his lips so close she could almost taste them.

“Great job.” He drew back as if he’d felt the same pull of emotion. “You’re almost as good as Fred.”

Steph found her voice. “If that’s so, then where’s my treat?” Did she really say that?

His eyes flashed. “Hmm? Good question.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Do you own a bicycle?”

Her pulse kicked. “A bicycle? I don’t know if I can still ride a bicycle.”

“It’s like walking. Once you’ve learned you never forget.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I can borrow one for you.”

“That’s my treat?”

He laughed. “It’s Memorial Day this weekend. We’ll go on a picnic. How about letting me grill you a steak?”

“So that’s why you came over.” She gave him a feeble smile as he slipped his arm around her shoulder. “I’ve always had a thing for steak.”

“Me, too.” He grew silent, looking into her eyes.

Friendship. He made a great friend, and though she could live without the steak, affection was another story.

Nick maneuvered the bike he’d borrowed for Steph into his SUV and slammed the tailgate. He eyed his watch. Late again. After slipping his cell from his pocket, he opened the driver’s door with the other hand and swung into the seat. When he’d finally had the brains to ask for Steph’s phone number, he put it into his cell phone, and now he pressed the memory button, shaking his head at his inconsideration. Late should have been his middle name.

The phone rang, and when he heard her voice, his chest tightened. “I know I’m late, but I’m on my way.”

“I understand” is all she said, and that made him feel worse. When he’d been late for his dinner with Al, Nick knew he was irked. But Steph seemed accepting. He didn’t know how to read that. Did she care enough that she forgave him, or didn’t she care enough for it to make a difference?

He slipped the cell into his pocket and backed out of his garage, his mind on the day. He reviewed what he had brought for their picnic—a small grill, charcoal, steaks, bikes and soft drinks. Steph agreed to handle the rest. She was amazing.

The idea of spending the day with her made him smile. No dogs. No time pressure. Fresh air. Time to talk. That’s what he needed. He had so many things to learn about her, and one day he wanted to tell her about his broken engagement, but it opened too many doors right now. Later maybe when he knew how things were going with them. Now they were friends. Friends almost too fast and that scared him.

Her faith. The concern knotted in his mind. He liked her too much. They had things in common—the love of dogs, laughter, pride in their work—but that wasn’t enough. His love for God was primary in his life, and he needed that in his marriage.

Marriage. Where did that come from? His heart had rushed past his good sense. Marriage wasn’t an option until he got his act together and until he felt God’s leading to a life partner. But that’s what bothered him. Nick did feel something different. He sensed Steph had come into his life for a reason and for a deeper purpose. They had a comfortable relationship together already. When he dropped by, the pleasure sparked in her eyes. But he’d also seen the look of question there, too, and he longed to know what it meant.

Perhaps a widow saw relationships differently. He did, though he’d never walked down the aisle. It had been so close. No matter how hard he tried to forget those feelings, they didn’t vanish completely. Incidences dragged them out, making him question himself and shattering his confidence as a man worthy of a good woman. Rejection imploded the spirit, attacking trust, judgment and assurance. He’d covered his hurt for so long. On the outside, he functioned and went on.

But the inside had been shattered.

Still life went on, and Steph somehow picked up some of the pieces of his life and patched them back together without knowing it. He gazed upward at the bright blue sky—the color of her eyes—and sensed today would be special.

The drive to Steph’s reminded him of too many treks to Martin’s. He’d become his gofer, and though he wanted to be helpful, one day it had to stop.

Nick turned left, and in moments pulled into Steph’s driveway and slipped from the SUV. Fred’s nose pressed against the window welcoming him.

He strode to the doorway and rang the bell. Fred’s excitement sounded through the glass but otherwise silence.

He waited.

Eyeing his watch, he calculated he’d made good time. He’d been only forty minutes late. Curious, he wandered to the backyard. No one but Fred’s tail whacking the sliding patio door. Served him right. How many people had he kept waiting?

When he reversed his steps, Steph met him in front of the house, holding a picnic hamper. “Sorry. I spilled salad dressing on my clothes and had to change.”

He grasped the basket, hoping she’d accepted his apology. “I was the late one.” He carried the food to the car while she ran inside and came out with two lawn chairs. “I thought we might like these.”

Nick nodded and tossed them inside, and they were on their way. He felt tension when he pulled onto Rochester Road, and it didn’t subside until he’d crossed Square Lake Boulevard. Steph talked about her day care and her worries about her coworker Emily. He talked about his work. Neither said a word about themselves.

When he turned off University Drive to Seventh Street, he saw the entrance to Rochester Municipal Park. The fountain spilled water into the pond as they passed, and they wended their way to the picnic area. Though they hadn’t been the only ones to choose this setting for a holiday celebration, Nick found a space and parked. He pointed out an empty picnic table close to a family reunion or some special occasion where balloons rimmed the area. “Okay?”