by Jeannie Watt
“Why this place?” she had to ask.
“The price. It has room for parking,” he said. “It’s close to you. And even though it’s an eyesore, the foundation is strong. Everything else can be fixed.”
“How do you know that? About the foundation?”
“Frank and Bernie.”
Reggie stepped back. “They knew you were here before I did? They already toured this place?” Once again, she was ready to turn and walk…or was she just scared, too?
“I live next door to them, Reggie. I had to get my dog…and I needed their help. I wanted to come to you with a plan.”
“They’re your renovators,” she guessed.
Tom nodded. “I’m going to work with them, too. Sweat equity. I’m not starting this place until I’ve helped rebuild it. Just like I want to rebuild with you.”
Reggie started walking then. Everything he’d said made sense. He’d actually come up with a plan. He was trying to stay.
Tom caught up with her, matched her pace, but she didn’t slow down, didn’t look at him. Instead she focused straight ahead, but saw nothing.
Okay. Maybe it made some sense for him to present this solution fait accompli. That way she’d know he was serious. That he was honestly trying to put down roots.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was here,” Tom said. “I tried to think of the best way to do this.” She gave a curt nod, but continued to march back the way they’d come. Back to her kitchen. To her safe life where she never had to take any chances or risk getting her heart broken. And she realized she was behaving exactly like she’d accused Tom of behaving.
She stopped suddenly, turning to Tom, who also stopped, a wary expression on his face as he tried to gauge what her next move might be.
“You think we can?” she asked in a low voice.
“Rebuild?”
“Yes.”
“I love you, Reggie. Always have. I think our foundation is strong.” He smiled. “If it wasn’t, we wouldn’t be making each other so miserable.”
She couldn’t help smiling back. “Good analogy, Tom.”
He reached down to tip her chin up. “I’m a chef, not an analogizer. You get my drift, right?”
“I got it.”
“What do you think?”
Reggie took a deep breath. What did she think? That Tom was trying damned hard to do the right thing, to face down his demons.
“Reggie?” he said softly when she didn’t answer.
She met his eyes, saw nothing but sincerity and perhaps humility there. And she felt herself go mushy. Tom was trying. She had to meet him halfway, believe in him. “Renovations take time. I’m not going to hurry this one, even if we’re running out of time.”
“No hurrying,” he said. “On the renovations, that is.”
“We can’t screw up again.” To make her point, she reached out and took his hand, placed it on the baby. Tom shifted so that he had a hand on either side of her small belly. Seconds later the baby twitched and he raised a startled gaze to hers. “It moved.”
“Showing definite signs of impatience.”
He bent his head lower to kiss her lips, his hands still on her belly. It felt…right.
“We communicate,” she said, kissing him back.
“I won’t withhold anything.”
“If you feel a knee-jerk urge to flee, tell me.”
“Done.” He took her into his arms, looked her straight in the eye and said, “I’m scared, Reg. I won’t lie. But I want to succeed in this. I want to succeed with you.”
She leaned back to take his face in her hands, looking him square in the eye. “Then I promise you that you will succeed, because I’m going to be with you, every step of the way.”
She dropped her hands and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She relished the feel of his long hard body against her own, the baby between them.
“I love you, Reggie,” he murmured against her hair as his arms closed around her.
She smiled into his shirt. “And that is why you’re going to succeed in this, Chef Gerard.”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-8242-1
THE BABY TRUCE
Copyright © 2011 by Jeannie Steinman
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