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“You have a conference call on a Saturday afternoon?” she asked as she followed him into the living room.
He reached for his coat and hat. “Yeah. A lot going on with work this week. I’ll probably be tied up for a couple hours, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to let me know, okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Be careful walking home. I think we have enough snow angels out there.”
He made a face that drew a laugh from her. “I’ll watch my step.”
His faint smile fading, he paused with his hand on the doorknob, looking as though there was something on his mind. Her fingers laced tightly in front of her. She waited, but he remained silent.
His gaze lifted, locking with hers. Lost in his bottomless dark eyes, she stared back at him. It felt as though something important hovered between them, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Something he wanted to say? To do? Something he was waiting for her to say or do?
“Call if you need me,” he said and opened the door. He was gone before she could even respond.
Biting her lip, she locked the door behind him, then crossed the room and sank onto the couch. Something had changed between her and Cole since she’d shared her news with him, she thought wistfully. She couldn’t define it, exactly. Cole certainly wasn’t showing disapproval. Just the opposite, in fact; he’d been supportive and considerate. He’d sounded sincere when he said he had faith in her. As the first of her friends she’d told, he’d reacted exactly the way she hoped they all would.
And yet, something was different. She could only describe it as an awareness she hadn’t acknowledged before. Whether it was only on her part, she couldn’t say, but what else could it be? Maybe it was all in her head. Maybe those wonky hormones and jumbled emotions were making her imagine things that weren’t real. Whatever the reason, she had to get a grip. She’d made quite a few foolish mistakes in the past few months, but she would never do anything that would put her treasured friendship with Cole at risk.
* * *
Her phone rang some three hours after Cole left. Looking away from the kitchen design on her computer monitor, she glanced at the ID screen on her phone. She smiled when she saw Cole’s name. Was he checking on her again already? Very sweet, but she’d have to convince him she was fine so he would stop worrying about her. It hadn’t helped, of course, that she’d blubbered all over him last night, she thought with a wince.
With that embarrassing memory in mind, she answered cheerily. “Hi, Cole. What’s up?”
“Just letting you know I’m going to have to catch a plane to Chicago first thing in the morning.”
She frowned. “I thought you weren’t leaving until later in the week.”
“So did I. But the conference call I mentioned was a nightmare. I have to go sort out some stuff. And try not to knock heads together while I’m there,” he finished grimly.
She giggled, but a bit wistfully. He’d only just gotten back from the last trip. She wished he didn’t have to go again so soon. She was sure he felt the same way, though probably not for the same reasons. “I’ll take good care of Dusty.”
“You always do. I’m pretty sure you’re her favorite person. Which I understand completely,” he added, and she could hear the smile in his voice now.
“Why, thank you, kind sir.”
His low chuckle rumbled pleasantly in her ear. “The roads should be much better tomorrow, but don’t take any chances, okay? Be careful.”
“I will. You do the same.”
She set her phone aside with a little sigh after they disconnected. She would miss him again. But maybe it would be good to have a little distance from him for a few days. She was quite sure everything would be back to normal—as much as possible considering the circumstances, anyway—once he returned.
* * *
It had been a long, frustrating day, but that wasn’t what kept Cole awake Tuesday night. Ultimately, the business problems had been settled to everyone’s satisfaction, and he would be able to return to Little Rock Thursday and get back to work in his much-preferred home office. So, it wasn’t the job that had him tossing and turning in the hotel bed, or that made him finally give up and move to the window to stare blankly out at the midnight Chicago skyline. His thoughts were several hundred miles away. With Stevie McLane, to be precise.
Even when he’d been immersed in discussions about figures and trends and mathematical models, he’d been aware of thoughts of her hovering at the back of his mind, ready to push to the forefront as soon as he was alone. It was rare that he allowed himself to be distracted from work, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Stevie since she’d confided her pregnancy to him Friday night. He’d acknowledged privately that Stevie had been in his thoughts increasingly often during the past months, but even more so this week.
Something she’d said Saturday kept replaying in his mind. I’ve always thought if I ever had a kid, I’d give him or her the one thing missing from my own otherwise happy childhood. A dad.
A brainstorm had occurred to him in the middle of that night, and he’d been pondering it ever since, giving it his usual thorough contemplation of all potential consequences. He still had nagging doubts about whether he was qualified to even make the offer, considering the poor example his own father had set, but he’d decided he should at least discuss the idea with Stevie.
He wasn’t sure which possible outcome unnerved him most. That she would turn him down...or that she would accept.
He turned away from the window and padded back over to the tousled bed. He always kept a few interesting nonfiction books on his tablet. Maybe if he read awhile, he’d lull himself to sleep. Reaching out to turn on the bedside lamp, he muttered a curse when he knocked his wallet off the nightstand. He reached down to scoop it up and it fell open in his hands. He started to close it when something made him pause. Very slowly, he reached into the back of the wallet and drew out a small photograph with worn edges.
He’d once commented to Natasha that she had the face of a Renaissance Madonna. She’d laughed and told him not to be silly, but that hadn’t changed the fact that she could have posed for one of those famous paintings. Framed by straight, dark hair, her oval face had been delicate, her skin a flawless olive. Her dark hazel eyes had been striking in their intensity and clarity, making him feel at times as though she could see right into him. Despite that serene exterior, she’d had a warrior spirit, refusing to accept the health issues that had eventually led to her death. She’d made plans for a long marriage, for a career, for a family. She’d clung to those dreams until the very end of her life.
He ran his fingertips slowly across the face in the photo. Natasha had been gone five years, leaving him a widower before he’d turned thirty. She wouldn’t have wanted him to spend the rest of his life alone. But still, he felt a niggle of remorse whenever he envisioned himself having all the things she had wanted so badly and would never have.
She would understand, he told himself, sliding the photo back into place. She’d have liked Stevie, though they had little in common other than kind hearts and innate optimism. Natasha would certainly understand his compulsion to offer assistance to a valued СКАЧАТЬ