Sweet Nothings (34 page)

“Hi Nancy. How are you today? I’d like you to meet my friend Joanie.” He nodded his head to Joanie, but kept a firm grip on her, wanting to make sure she didn’t get some crazy notion to turn him loose and reel the
other woman in. Nancy was like a vampire. If you invited her across the driveway threshold, she suddenly felt free to pop in all the time.

Yet if he didn’t go to the trouble to introduce the two women—which was the only reason Nancy would have come over the instant he’d arrived home—she wouldn’t go away.

“Nice to meet you,” Nancy said in her southern drawl. Her smile was friendly, but Nick didn’t miss how her gaze lingered over the orange tips of Joanie’s hair. They did things traditionally in this neighborhood. Bright orange hair stood out. “Looks like you’re going to a game,” she said.

Joanie’s hockey jersey must have been a dead giveaway.

The three of them had a moment of chitchat before Nancy smiled and took in Joanie’s hair one more time, then she was on her way back to the house across the street. Nick was certain she would be on the phone to several other neighborhood wives within minutes. She was his very own Mrs. Kravitz from that old show
Bewitched
.

Joanie glanced at him as he unlocked his front door, a laugh in her eyes.

He just shook his head. “Nancy is Winding River’s Beatrice Grayson and Reba London all rolled into one.”

“Ah.”

He could see her processing that though he lived in a bigger city, small-town gossip still ran rampant.

He pushed open the door, holding it wide for her to step through. The alarm was beeping so he followed her in and turned it off.

“You built this?” she asked as she wandered through the rooms.

“I did. About seven years ago.”

When she got to the kitchen with the oversize gas stovetop and the copper hood, she took it all in and then glanced at him. She ran a hand lightly over the thick slab of granite covering the square island. “Did you build this kitchen for you to cook in, Nick? Or for a woman?”

Heat touched his cheeks. She had such a way of pegging him. “I guess I’d have to say both.”

“So you were serious about someone?”

He tossed his keys on the counter, somewhat embarrassed to tell her that when he’d started building the house, he’d thought he’d found the one. “It was years ago. After she dumped me, I realized it had been more about her two kids than her,” he said. “I was crazy about them.”

“So what happened?” Beautiful, understanding eyes peered up at him.

He shrugged. “Said I was a nice guy, but not the guy for her.”

She said nothing to that, only lifted her eyebrows in question. The movement produced a very thin horizontal line high on her forehead.

“It was a running theme for a while,” he admitted. “You’re such a good guy, Nick, but… Hell, I brought one girl here after we’d gone out a few times. She took one look, told me I was a good guy, then shook her head and slowly backed away.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the thought. “The allure of the ‘bad boy’ is strong for some women. I guess seeing my house drove the point home that I was never going to be that guy.”

He grabbed Joanie’s hand and led her out of the room. Enough sounding like a schmuck. He’d figured out over the last few weeks what the problem had been. None of those women had been his type either.

But Joanie was.

“I think you’re a good guy,” she said. She peeked into the oversize den and he could see she was impressed at the sunken, comfortable room. This was where he spent most of his time. Other than in his bedroom, sleeping. “I’ve even told you that a time or two,” she added.

“You have,” he agreed. “I cringed at first.”

They stopped in the guest bath and she looked up and met his eyes in the mirror. “You don’t cringe now?”

She looked so cute in her Preds jersey and tight jeans. She’d added a blue and gold scarf headband to her blond and orange hair. He had never seen a more perfect woman.

He shook his head. “Now I hope you think I’m a good guy. You see it as something different than all those other women.”

A half smile curved her mouth and he turned her to him and kissed her. He wanted to make love to her in his house—though there was no time for that at all. They had a game to get to and he was not going to let her be late.

“I want to be a good guy for you,” he whispered when they came up for air. “Because you haven’t had those in your life.”

She’d told him about her first boyfriend as they’d shared stories late one night. About how he’d talked her out of her panties and then forgot to talk to her the next day. Or the next.

When Nick had learned the guy still lived in Sugar Springs, he’d had the urge to pay him a visit. Joanie had convinced him that it had been a long time, and she had gotten over it years ago. Maybe she had, but it had left a lasting impact.

It had added to her belief that she was on her own in the happiness department.

“I want to make you happy,” he told her as he looked down at her. He almost added the word “forever,” but wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it yet. They were getting closer, though. Before the night was over, he was going to make sure she understood that the love he felt was real. It wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was he.

She gave him a slight nod. “You do make me happy.” Then she peeked around his shoulder, back out into the hall. “You have a bedroom around here, somewhere?”

“Oh no,” he said. “There’s no time for that tonight, babe.” He grabbed her hand in his and continued the tour. “Another time, though. Definitely.”

She laughed. “Maybe I’ll visit you here someday. I’ll show up in my van to see what Nancy thinks about that.”

Her tone was light, but he knew the way the other woman had looked at her had bothered her.

“When are you coming home, anyway?” Joanie glanced casually at him as they took the stairs to the second floor, but he sensed the tension in her. Her house remodel was done. He’d already spent six weeks away from here. It only made sense he return. And he did need to. He’d talked to his partner earlier that day and confirmed he’d be at the office sometime next week.

Though he had yet to figure out how to make a Sugar Springs to Nashville commute a reality. Until he convinced Joanie they were meant for each other.

“Supposed to be back in a few days,” he finally admitted. He didn’t want to come back at all. “Probably Wednesday. Maybe Thursday.”

Her face lost a bit of its glow. Which was good. He thought.

Meant she wasn’t ready for him to leave.

“So…” she said, seemingly at a loss for words.

“You’re not dumping me just because I have to come back for a bit,” he told her. He gave her another hard kiss. “We’ll figure it out.”

He had it figured out already, though the solution had come as both a shock and a seemingly easy answer. But when something was right, he knew it.

He’d sell his house. He’d move to Sugar Springs. It had everything he wanted. Joanie. A brother. Nieces.

Family.

He could make anything else work. He might even sell off his half of the business here. That was something he intended to talk to his partner about. Because the picture of him growing the business in Sugar Springs while Joanie baked cupcakes every day and came home to him at night was the right one. He wanted to make that happen.

Joanie didn’t reply.

When she came out of one of his five bedrooms, her words made his heart stop. “I tried to sell Cakes this week.”

“Why would you do that?”

She shrugged, not looking at him. “It’s what I do.”

He had to wonder if her not tying herself to businesses had anything to do with her not tying herself to relationships. It was interesting that she seemed to have the same hang-ups with both facets of her life.

Of course, the “curse” didn’t extend to her business, but he had the suspicion that her problem was more fear of commitment. To anything. She was used to constantly changing, all the way down to her hair. Probably it was easier never to admit how badly she wanted something than to risk going for it and it potentially turning out badly.

But she was perfect for that store. He couldn’t let her sell it. “Are you sure you want to sell?”

She studied him silently before answering. “I always do.”

“That’s not what I asked.” He pulled her into the master suite and settled them both on his bed so that they could focus on the conversation and nothing else. “Are you sure you want to sell this one? Don’t you enjoy it?”

He couldn’t quite read the expression on her face. It was part sad, maybe a little hesitant. But definitely withdrawn.

“I do enjoy it,” she finally admitted. “A lot. And it means more to me than the others have. It’s kind of like it’s a part of me and a part of GiGi, all rolled into one. I just figure I should sell. Like I always do.”

That’s why it worked for her. It so perfectly represented who she was. “Maybe give it some time, sweetness. There’s no hurry, right?”

“I suppose not.” She lifted a shoulder, then looked around at his room. It made him nervous for her to see this piece of him.

He hadn’t changed the space too much from the original neutral he’d built it as, but he had added a dark brown accent wall and the bed was a heavy, block-wood rustic king-size he’d fallen in love with the minute he’d found it two years before. It would fit nicely in the master bedroom at the Barn.

And he couldn’t say that hadn’t crossed his mind a time or two as he’d done the renovations.

“Who’d you try to sell Cakes to, anyway?” Given the whole town was betting on her settling down with him, he figured they might be betting on her keeping Cakes, as well. The thought being, commit to one, might as well to the other. Might make for a hard sell to a local if that was the mind frame. They tended to look after her.

“Brian Marshall,” she answered. “He owns a few businesses. Thought he might like to add this to his list.”

Irritation flared at the mention of the other man’s name. “I take it he said no?”

“Suggested I keep it as an investment if I didn’t want to run it.”

“Good idea.” Jealousy was an ugly thing. “So there is something the guy won’t do for you, huh?”

She’d moved to check out the connecting bathroom, but came back with his words. “What do you mean by that?”

“Come on, babe. The man watches you like a hawk. Maybe you’re only friends
now
, but I can see there’s more between you.”

“He’s my friend,” she stated.

“I know.”

“You don’t sound like you know. What do you think? That I have something going on with him?”

“No,” Nick stressed. “Really, I don’t. I just think you
once
had something going on with him. I know we all have pasts, but this one bugs me.” He moved to stand by her, catching her hand in his. “You two are close. I want to be the one close to you.”

The stiffness in her fingers relaxed with his words. “You and I are close,” she said. Her voice took on an air of awe, as if she might not have realized that before she spoke the words. “I’ve shared more with you than I ever have with Brian.”

He nodded. He knew he was being ridiculous.

“Nick?”

He glanced away from her. “What?”

“There’s no need to be jealous.”

“I know. You’re with me now.” He just hoped he could keep her.

“I was never
with
him. He and I are just friends. That’s all we’ve ever been.”

He turned back to her. She seemed sincere, and the fact was, she had no reason to lie to him about this. God, he was an idiot. “I’m sorry, babe. I believe you. Just… ignore me, okay? I have a lot on my mind tonight.”

Like telling her he loved her more than the world. He would do that when they got home tonight. After he made love to her in the third-floor room.

“What could possibly be on your mind?” she asked in a teasing voice. “We’re going to a hockey game, and then we’re going to end the night with me showing you the new underwear I bought for my birthday.”

Ah, hell.
That
pushed Marshall from his mind.

He leaned in and kissed her. “Good idea,” her murmured. “Now let’s get you to that game so we can get home and get me to that underwear.”

Chapter Twenty

M
usic blared from the overhead speakers as the hockey game went to a commercial break and the players skated to the bench. Joanie stepped back from the glass—where she’d been standing for the entire last period—and dropped into her seat with an exhausted sigh. Adrenaline rushes were good things, and this had been an awesome game.

She slipped her arm through Nick’s in the seat beside her and grinned up at him, snuggling into his side. “Thank you for my present,” she said.

His eyes were warm as he returned her smile. “You’ve had a good birthday then?”

“The best.”

It had been. GiGi had made her birthday cakes and let her invite her friends over when she’d been young, and then she’d spent her birthdays over the last decade or so either working or hanging out with Lee Ann. To have an honest-to-goodness date with someone as hot as Nick—and to have glass seats at a hockey game!—was priceless.

She leaned closer, using the excuse of the roar of the crowd to put her mouth next to Nick’s ear. “I hope my new panties will explain my appreciation later.”