One Night in the Ice Storm (10 page)

“You’ve
always been almost family, and I’m inviting you.”

“Then
I accept, but I’m still taking you out on Saturday night.”

She
stretched up to kiss him, so that distracted them for a minute. As they were
pulling away, she said, “Two dates in one week. My social life is picking up.
I’ll have to reorganize all of my other boyfriends to make room for you.”

She
was joking, and he evidently knew it. He lifted a hand to cup her cheek and
gently wiped one tear from her skin with his thumb.

“You
better not tell me the names of those other boyfriends or their cars and houses
will be suddenly struck with a deluge of inexplicable catastrophes.”

She
giggled helplessly.

“You
understand, don’t you?” David continued, his expression and tone growing sober.
“I’m not going to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for, but I don’t
just want to date you. I don’t want you to date anyone else. I’m serious about
this. I’m serious about
you
.”

She
reached up to grab his face the way he’d grabbed hers. “I’m serious about you
too. I don’t want to see anyone but you.”

“Really?
I was trying not to scare you by moving too fast. I know we’ve just had the one
night.”

She
gave a huff of objection. “One night? I’ve been crazy about you since I was ten
years old.”

He
smiled. “That’s good to know. I know we’ll have to work a lot out, with us
living in different parts of the state. But I’ll do whatever I need to do to
make it work.”

“Me
too.”

“I
just want you to know—if you want to stay in Richmond, I’d even be willing to
move. I know that’s in the future. I’m not trying to scare you.”

She
actually laughed at the idea of her being scared by his passionate sincerity.
She thought she might melt away in pure joy.

“I’m
not sure I’ll want to live in Richmond the rest of my life, but that’s
something we can figure out down the road. But, seriously, David, nothing you
say is going to scare me.”

He
turned his head and pressed a kiss into her palm. It was the sweetest thing.
“So if I said I love you…”

“I’d
say I love you too.”

He
stifled a moan of joy or pleasure or exhaustion or relief, and then he pulled
her into another kiss.

They
were just getting into it when Rachel heard a car turn into the long driveway.

They
pulled apart, almost sheepishly, and were standing together in the living room
when Rachel’s mother walked in.

“There
you are. Are you all right, baby? You’ve been crying. And what happened to your
ankle?”

“I
just twisted it,” Rachel explained, returning her mother’s hug and kiss.

“Sprained
it,” David corrected.

“
Twisted
it.” She slanted him an annoyed glance at his interference, but he looked so
adorably rumpled with his hair sticking out in all directions—and he looked so
transformed with what could only be happiness—that she couldn’t hold onto her
annoyance for more than a couple of seconds.

Instinctively,
she reached out to put a hand on his chest—wanting to touch him, to know he was
hers. He pulled her to his side, sliding one arm around her.

Rachel’s
mother didn’t appear even remotely surprised by their sudden closeness.

“It’s
good to see you too, dear, although I’d advise you to shave just as soon as you
can. And thank you for helping Rachel out in the storm.” She reached up to give
David a sound kiss on the cheek. “Now that you’ve gotten things worked out
between you, do you think that you might be able to convince her to move home
soon?”

“Mom!”
Rachel wailed.

Brad
laughed from the doorway of the room.

David
laughed too. “We can talk about it. It will be up to her, but I’ll at least
give her options.”

Rachel
smiled at David rather sappily.

“Well,
baby,” her mother said, turning her attention back to Rachel, “I was talking to
Missy Roberson—you know she owns the gift shop in town. That place is the
shambles. I’ve never seen so many tacky, useless items assembled in one place.
But she’s going to be moving to North Carolina to live with her daughter.”

Rachel
frowned, trying to keep up with her mother’s rambles, which were often
difficult to follow.

“Anyway,”
her mother continued, “I suggested to Missy that you should take over the
business. You could do flowers like you’ve always wanted and combine it with
the gift shop. Maybe showcase local art. Lots of people come through looking
for antiques and country cooking. David could sell his furniture and you
could—“

“Mom,”
Rachel interrupted. “Let’s not get carried away.”

Her
mother leaned over to kiss her cheek again. “Okay. Just think about it. Now
Brad’s shower was just not up to par, so I desperately need another shower and
to get out of these clothes before I start to get ready for tonight. You need
to sit down and elevate your ankle.” She patted David’s chest. “David, dear,
you’re joining us this evening, aren’t you?”

“I’ll
be there.”

While
her mother bustled out of the room, Brad came in all the way.

“Sorry,
man,” he said, stretching his hand out to David. “I know I promised not to say
anything. But she wouldn’t stop crying, and there’s only so much of that a man
can take.”

“Brad!”
Rachel exclaimed, much as she had reproached her mother earlier. She looked up
at David. “I wasn’t crying.”

David
chuckled. “Not even a little bit?”

“Well,
maybe a little. But not when I was talking to Brad.”

“You
didn’t cry when he accidentally locked you in that closet either and then
couldn’t get the door opened for hours.”

Rachel
shuddered at that horrible memory from when she was nine years old.

David
leaned down and said against her ear, “I thought you were the bravest girl I’d
ever known. That might have been the day I realized there was no other girl for
me.”

There
was no other man for Rachel. That much had always been true. And she still
couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that David was actually hers.

But
he was. She knew it because he had told her, and she knew it because she could
see the truth in his eyes.

The
story of her life had been retold—truth casting light onto all of the shadows
and melting all of the ice.

And
it had happened in only one night.

About the Author

Noelle handwrote her
first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she
hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and
currently resides in Virginia, where she teaches English, reads any book she
can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.

She
loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of
her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and
focus on writing contemporary romances. For more information, please check out
her website: noelle-adams.com