Acceptance, The (11 page)

He’d arranged to meet with his cousin tomorrow at lunch and they could begin melding ideas for the gala his aunt would put on to raise money for her organization.

He was honored that Simone took him into consideration. He felt right about helping others. Tyler smiled as he pushed his cart through the grocery store. There was something in the way that Courtney carried herself, the way she thought, just the way she lived that made Tyler want to be more like her. She had an acceptance about things that had had him driving over to his sister’s house first thing the other night to apologize. And wasn’t he glad he had. On Sunday he’d go back again, this time as an expected guest, though he’d believed that there had always been an extra seat there just in case he was to drop in. This time, however, he’d take Courtney with him.

The thought made him warm. He’d only known her a few days, but the woman had changed his life already. Just the vision she had, without physically seeing the world, made him see it more clearly.

Yes, she might have just made him accept everything that he thought was wrong with his life. Thank God, Courtney thought he smelled good enough to drop her scarf.

Tyler called her around one o’clock and invited her to dinner. He wasn’t sure her voice was very uplifting, but she’d accepted his invitation and that, he thought, had made her sound a little happier.

As he disconnected the phone call he thought about her. Six o’clock just wasn’t going to get here fast enough. He wanted to see her. Be with her. Oh, and the urge to kiss her was weighing big time on his mind.

He put away his groceries and looked up a recipe for something with chicken on the computer. If he’d done that first he wouldn’t just be putting in
available ingredients
in the search box. Maybe Clara or Avery knew a thing or two about cooking. It would be nice if he didn’t have to think so hard each time he wanted to cook a meal for Courtney.

Tyler sat back in his chair and just looked at the computer screen. He did want to cook for Courtney. He realized, that even in the few brief times they’d spent together he’d grown closer to her than he had anyone in years.

He smiled to himself. His mother and father were only together about a year before they married. Avery’s parents had her before they got married. Clara ran off and married Warner in Vegas. Even Ed and Darcy fell in love right after meeting. Could that be what he was feeling? Were the feelings he was having for Courtney deeper than just this acceptance she made him feel?

Really, did it matter? He liked her. He liked her a lot. As long as they got along and wanted to be with each other they could see where things went between them.

He let out a deep breath. There was something inside of him that made him think there just might be something between them.

At six o’clock Tyler rang the bell at Courtney’s door. He stood there and wondered if she was even home. He was just about to ring it again when she opened the door.

“I was afraid you weren’t home.”

She smiled easily at his voice. “I guess I fell asleep. I was a little tired after staying up all night and then putting up with my mother today.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Do you have wine at your house?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s talk about it over wine.” She smiled sweetly. “Let me get my purse.”

Courtney stepped back into the house and a moment later came to the door with her purse on her shoulder. She shut the door, locked it, and then held out her hand to reach for his arm.

Tyler moved next to her, but she stopped from taking his arm and instead rested her hand on his shoulder and turned him toward her.

Her other hand came up to his face and her thumb grazed over his lip. “You shaved.”

“I did. The grizzly look is not good on me.”

“I’ll bet you’re just as handsome either way.”

“Thank you.”

Courtney stepped in closer to him. “Would you mind if I test it out?”

“It?”

She laughed as she pulled his face closer to hers. “Your smooth cheek.” She rested her cheek against his and his eyes drifted closed in anticipation. “Very nice.”

Courtney’s other hand came to his other cheek and she guided his lips to hers where she pressed a warm kiss to them. But she didn’t back away. She stepped in until his only choice was to wrap his arms around her and hold her as much for balance as need to be near her.

Courtney opened her mouth to him and he took it. Her hands slid around his neck, entangled in his hair, and sent pulses of energy through his body.

As she pulled back he could still sense the tension in her. Her mother must have upset her quite a bit, not to mention he was sure she was beginning to miss her brother. That would only prove to grow deeper for a while, he assumed. He’d never lost anyone he was close to. His grandfather, whom he was named after, had passed years before he’d been born. But he remembered his mother talking about the depression his father had gone into.

He could offer her company and compassion. Surely that would be enough for now.

Courtney had longed for this moment since she’d awakened next to him on the couch. Her mother’s visit had put her in a less than sunny mood. She couldn’t blame her for being the way she was, Courtney knew that. But she figured they’d butt heads a few more times before they’d each healed from Fitz’s death.

Tyler was here now. She embraced the thought. He’d come to pick her up for dinner.

She took his arm and he led her to the curb where his car was parked.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked as she climbed into the car.

“Home.”

Courtney hesitated for a moment. “Home?”

“I’m cooking for you.”

A hundred different feelings burst inside of her like a bomb being detonated full of emotions.

“You’re cooking me dinner?”

“I’ve been on the move for nearly three years. I haven’t called anywhere home in that long either. I just feel like being home. Cooking a decent meal—I hope. And being with a woman that fascinates me.”

She could feel those doubtful emotions begin to fizzle out and warmth began to surge through her. “
I
fascinate you?”

“In a million ways. Maybe I can share that with you tonight. I have a lot to talk about. I’ve had a wonderful day.”

Courtney locked her seatbelt in place and Tyler closed the door. She wondered what had gone on in his day that could have made him so chipper. Hopefully she wouldn’t dull his mood.

He had the radio on and it kicked into song when he started the car. Luke Bryan sang about playing a song again and again because a girl liked it. She was sure that if there was a song on the radio that would make her happy to hear over and over, Tyler would find it and play it until she’d had her fill.

The thought made her smile. What was it about this man who had been so lost that made her think he’d do something like that—for her?

As he drove he reached for her hand and held it. She enjoyed this. Never in a million years would she have thought that a man would find her so interesting. And for some reason, she never thought he’d be sighted. For what ever reason, she always figured the man she would get involved with,
the one
she thought more clearly, would be blind too. After all, the only men she’d been with had been blind. There had been no driving around and holding hands. No searching through rooms for treasures. Oh, there had been the fumbling of clothes, buttons, and tripping over shoes—the memory had her stifling a laugh. But this was different.

She thought back to the boulder in the creek at his grandmother’s. When she’d told him to close his eyes so he could see. It had awakened something in him. A sight.

She reminded herself that he was already healing when he got on that plane bound for Nashville. But she’d like to think in their few days together she had helped him move closer to accepting who he was and how important his family was.

“So what made your day so good? Did you talk to your father about a job?”

He gave her hand a squeeze. “I did.”

“When do you start?”

“Oh, I start tomorrow, but I’m not building anything.”

Courtney turned her face toward him. “So you’re in a different department?”

“I didn’t take his job. I went looking for a different opportunity.”

“Such as?”

“My first project, I guess, is as an event planner.” He chuckled.

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. I went to my aunt and asked for a job.”

“Your aunt. The one with the charity?”

“Yes. I have a need to do things for people who need it. I want to do something that will really matter in the long run.”

“When did you decide on this?”

“When I was sitting in my father’s office realizing that wasn’t what I wanted.”

She couldn’t help but wonder if that was what fascinated him with her—was she someone he saw as a person who
needed
help?

There was nothing she thought was probably further from the truth, but the thought stuck for a moment.

“What kind of event planning will you be doing?”

“I’m going to work with my cousin on putting together her fundraising gala. This one event nearly covers all her expenses.”

Courtney felt him shift. “In fact, she said she had a call today from a woman whom she’d helped out. The daughter had been assaulted by the woman’s boyfriend. But they had gotten away. She now had a good job and the girl was in school and doing well. I think this was exactly what she’d hoped for when she began her work.”

“How did she get into this?”

“One day there was a woman who kept coming to the clinic. She had a baby with her, I think. But she was always beat up. My aunt, who had managed a job at the clinic, had given the woman the diamond earrings her father had bought her. It was enough for the woman to pawn to buy food, diapers, and get away from the man. The woman did just that and in time she had a job, a new home, and a future. She worked with my aunt and the charity for years.”

“She doesn’t work for her anymore?”

“No. If I remember correctly she’s some city council woman or something. What my aunt did for her changed her life and my aunt’s. And when my aunt saw what one gesture like that could do she knew she could help many more women and families.”

Courtney couldn’t wait to meet this aunt. She sounded amazing.

“So does she have some big office? What is the overhead like on something like that?”

He laughed again. “No. She certainly doesn’t have a big office. In fact, she still works out of the clinic where she worked all those years ago. Her office hardly has room for her to turn around in. She certainly could have had a nice office. In fact, once she and her father made amends enough, and he reinstated her trust fund, she could have had Benson, Benson, and Hart build her a nice high rise.”

“She’s humbled.”

“She is. And she’s right where she wants to be.”

“I think that’s a wonderful place to be. You’re very lucky to have an idea of what you want to do.”

“We’ll see,” he chuckled. “I’ve never been one to have a long term plan. I suppose I just always assumed BBH is where I’d end up.”

“It speaks volumes that your father would let you do whatever you wanted.”

His hand moved over hers in a gentle stroke. “What do you do?”

“Me? Oh, well that would depend on who you ask. My father would say I take care of my mother. My mother would say her job is to take care of me. I’d like to say I was a writer.”

She felt him shift. “No kidding?” His voice rose in pitch. “I think that’s very cool.”

“You do?”

“Yes. What do you write?”

“Well,” she cleared her throat. “I’ve written a lot of short stories. I write a blog, which no one but Fitz knew about.”

“What kind a blog.”

“
The Blind Girl Diary.
I write about the world of darkness from my perspective. I’ve done some series on how the blind are treated in restaurants, how people nearly fall over themselves when you go to a movie theater, and how I’d love to have a service dog as much for having help as companionship.”

“Why don’t you have one?”

“Remember, my mother thinks it’s her job to guide me. I don’t really need an actual service dog. There are a lot of people who
need
them. But a dog in general would be fun.”

“How many followers do you have on this blog of yours?”

“Four thousand.”

The car turned and she heard him laugh. “That’s a lot of people.”

“I suppose. Someday I’d like to write articles. Maybe I’ll be a published author someday. I’ve thought about writing books for young girls who are blind. You tend to go through a huge phase of assuming you’re ugly since you can’t see how your hair looks. You have to learn that it’s how you feel that matters.”

A moment later the car came to a stop. “We’re here.” She heard him turn in his seat and could feel the shift of his breath and knew he was facing her. She turned. “What about writing articles about charities? Interviews. Press releases? Do you think you could do that?”

A smile was tugging on the corners of her mouth. “You want me write about your aunt’s organization?”

“Yeah. What if we got some media attention? Did some interviews with some of the women who she’s helped? Get your name out there and find you four thousand more subscribers to your blog?”

A laugh burst from her. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.” His hand came to her cheek and she reached for it. “Courtney, I don’t know what this all is—these feelings I’m having. But I don’t think there is much I wouldn’t do for you.”

He eased her toward him and his lips came to hers.

As he pulled away she sucked in a breath. “I’m never going to see again.”

“Why did you say that?”

“If you continue to want to be with me your life won’t be everyday normal. My house has to be spotless or I’ll get hurt. I can never drive to meet you anywhere. I sometimes put my shirt on backward,” she thought of her mother’s comments. “I have days where I get very depressed that I can’t see the sunsets, the flowers bloom, or how my hair looks in the mirror. I’m a lot of work.”