“I love her.”
Another beat of silence, then, a shaky drawn in breath. I have never said that about a woman other than my mother.
“I’m so happy for you, Niall.”
My eyes sting. “Thanks. You’ll love her. I wish I could get you out here before I have to go back to Europe.”
“We might be able to work something out. Is she going on the road with you?”
“I would love that, but she has a business to run.”
I hear a sound behind me, and I look over the shoulder to find Blossom standing in the bedroom doorway. I motion with my arm for her to come closer. She does, and I pull her close to me. God, it will be horrible being away from her for six more weeks.
I kiss her on the top of her head as she snuggles closer. My entire body, mind, and soul settle down with her next to me.
“I raised a good man.”
I smile. My mother did her best working several jobs to keep a roof over our heads, and I know she went without so that I could have things. She wasn’t bitter that my father left us, but she taught me respect for women.
“Yes, you did. Do you want to talk to her?”
Blossom’s head raises up so fast she bumps my chin. There’s sheer panic in her eyes.
“She’s there? Yes!”
I chuckle as I hand Blossom the phone. Blossom is already shaking her head, but I don’t relent.
She takes the phone, draws in a deep breath, then releases it before she answers.
“Hello?”
Blossom is quiet as my mom starts jabbering on. I have never introduced my mother to a woman, so this is important. And good. It’s like the universe is lining everything up. A woman, a baby, a small town that settles my soul. All good.
“Yes, it’s called Sweet Blossom, and I do have red velvet whoopie pies.”
My mother talks again, and the trepidation drains Blossom’s face. Slowly but surely, a smile curves her mouth. Knowing my mom, she’s talking about her love of cream cheese.
“Well, he hasn’t asked me yet.” Then, she laughs at my mom’s response.
“Hey, now, don’t you two conspire against me,” I say, laughing.
Knowing my mother, she just asked Blossom about her wedding cake. I know the way she thinks.
“Yes, that was him.”
Her eyes are dancing, her entire body relaxed.
“Of course, I would love to have you here. We’ll have to get you a room somewhere in town, but we have some great B and B’s.”
More silence. “I would love to have you stay with me, but I have a one-bedroom apartment that is less than five hundred square feet above my bakery.”
My mother is probably trying to figure out a way to sleep on the couch. The only problem is that Tom doesn’t have anywhere to sleep.
“I can’t wait to meet you in person, too. Bye.”
She hands the phone back to me.
“I love her.”
I chuckle. “Of course you do. Everyone loves her.”
“No, really. She sounds normal. I like it. You need that to keep you grounded.”
“I agree.”
We talk for a little more, making arrangements for her trip out to meet Blossom. Once I click my phone off, I grab my woman and pull her into my arms.
“Did you get some rest?”
She nods. “I feel so good, but now I’m hungry, and I have nothing to cook for dinner.”
“Let’s go out. I have something to show you too.”
I hope she loves my surprise and doesn’t get upset with my presumption. I did it before I left, and I know it will be a total surprise.
“Are you sure you want to go out in public?”
“Woman, I want everyone to see you with me so that when I leave, they know who you belong to.”
“Excuse me,” she says, laughing. “Does that mean you belong to me?”
“I’ve belonged to you from the moment I laid eyes on you, Blossom.”
She rises to her tiptoes to give me a kiss. “Let me get dressed and put my hair up out of my face.”
“I like it.”
“Of course you do. I look like you just ravaged me, but I would rather not have people speculate about what we’ve been doing.”
Of course, she’s right, and it is a big step going out in public. I just hope that she isn’t mad about what I’ve done and sees the rightness of the situation.
TWELVE
MELODY
Niall is driving his rental down the street, and I frown. He seems to head in the direction of the Old Meyer place.
“Where are we going?”
“I wanted to show you something.”
I sigh. “We don’t have to go look at the house. I know that it sold. I mean, I was distraught, but Harry wouldn’t tell me who bought it. Told me it was a secret. I hate the fact that someone is probably going to tear it down rather than restore it.”
“Why would they tear it down?” Niall asks as he turns onto Meyer Road.
“Well, buying it in secret would be one reason. I know that the town council wanted to get it off the books, but I didn’t think they would sell it to someone who would destroy history, but times are tough. They need the revenue.”
He seems amused by my answer but says nothing else as he turns onto the driveway that leads to the mansion. I don’t know why I thought I would be able to save the money up for it. It would have taken me years to do, and that’s if nothing went wrong. But things always go wrong.
He parks the car in front of the house, and I look at it. Someone has been working on it. Once I heard they sold it, I did my best to ignore any discussion of my dream home. With things going so badly with Niall—at least in my mind—I was just heartbroken in so many ways.
My door opens, and I jolt. I didn’t even realize he had gotten out of the car.
“This is trespassing.”
He shakes his head, his eyes dancing. “I have permission.”
I sigh, then take his hand as he helps me out of the car. We walk up the massive stairs that lead to the front porch. The door is gone—not that there was much to the door, to begin with, and into the house. I blink. Even in the dim light, I can see that it’s been cleaned out. All the debris is gone. They have even started to strip the walls.
“Wow. So, they aren’t tearing it down.”
While I’m sad it isn’t mine, I’m pleased that whoever bought it plans to restore it.
“Blossom.”
“Yeah?” I say, going to where I assume the kitchen is. It’s been gutted, but I can tell that this will be a good space. It’s massive, and there is a big space where the windows will go to look out over the backyard. I can see the stream through the plastic.
He hurries after me and grabs my hand. “Seriously, I’m trying to talk to you.”
I stop at the strain in his voice and look at him. He seems nervous, and I have no idea why he would be.
“Is there something wrong?”
He draws in a deep breath. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this particular look on his face, but if I had to pinpoint it, I would say it was nerves. What would he have to be nervous about?
He walks towards me, his gaze on my face. Taking my hand, he pulls it up to his mouth, again, not breaking eye contact.