Wedding For One. Dawn AtkinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
soft and yielding as a gloved hand. Seeing Nathan again made her heart pound so hard she was afraid he might hear it. She concentrated on the bad art on the wall—completely dead couch paintings, probably chosen because they matched the decor, not for their power. She wished she could have advised him. “I didn’t know you played the saxophone,” she said.
“My mom was a musician, so I thought it might be in the blood. I think maybe the talent skipped a generation.”
“Practice makes perfect,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said. His eyes flicked over her. “It’s a little early for cocktails, but something tells me I’ll need a drink for this.” He must have caught the hurt look on her face because he quickly added, “Because of why you came.” He headed for the wet bar in a glassed-in alcove. “Would you join me in a glass? I’ve got a nice cabernet here.”
“Sure,” she said. Wine might calm her nerves, but she wished it weren’t red, in case she spilled some onto his elegant white carpet.
He did look good. Her mother had been right about that. More handsome and more masculine than he’d been eight years ago. At twenty-one, he’d been wiry. Now his shoulders and chest were broader and more defined. What she could see of his arms beyond the short-sleeved shirt were tanned and muscled. He must work out. Maybe in that fabulous pool.
His hair, cut fashionably short, was thick and dark. His face looked older, too—more experienced. There were crinkles at the edges of his eyes, and his smile was more relaxed than she remembered. Though he wore a button-down, well-pressed oxford shirt and crisp khakis, he’d be equally at home on a golf course, in a corporate boardroom or a smoky biker bar. In fact, he’d look great in black leather.
With practiced moves, Nathan took two goblets from the rack overhead, opened the bottle and filled the glasses. She realized he probably did this on all his dates. As much as Mariah tried to avoid it, her mother had kept her apprised of the details of Nathan’s love life. In fact, she was pretty sure he had a girlfriend right now. A math teacher, if she wasn’t mistaken.
Nathan came toward her carrying the wineglasses. Now that he knew why she’d come, his smile seemed flat, and she could tell he was being careful not to touch her fingers as he handed her the goblet.
“So, how have you been?” he asked, sitting at the farthest end of the sofa, like he thought she might pounce on him.
“Fine. Good, actually.”
“Your mother tells me you own a condominium now?”
“Hardly. I rent an apartment. Nikki’s my roommate.”
“Oh, yes. Your wild friend.” He shook his head in wonder. Nikki bewildered lots of people. “Living in an apartment is probably fun.”
“Oh, yeah. Gallons of giggles.” She thought of the funky building with its erratic air-conditioning and thin walls, on which they had to pound to get the rock band next door to stop practicing after midnight. Not to mention the deals she and Nikki had to make to keep the phone and gas hooked up.
“It’s nothing like this, that’s for sure,” she said, waving out the window. “I bet you come home every night from a hard day at the candy factory and dive into that crystal cool pool, huh?”
He shrugged as if it were nothing. “How about work? Your mother says you’re acting. Community theater? A play you wrote?”
Oh, for God’s sake. She’d written the skits for most of the costume characters they took out to kiddie parties, but that was hardly theater. “Meredith tends to embellish,” she said. “Actually, I’m between jobs right now.”
She just couldn’t bring herself to explain that she’d turned over her clown suit, Barney costume and Power-puff Girl tights the day she’d left, and told the temp agency to put a hold on her job application until she settled this family situation. “Enough about me,” she said, uncomfortable with the way his blue eyes seemed to dig down inside her. “Let’s talk about you.”
Nathan gave a weary smile. “That’s why you’re here, right? Guess we might as well get to it.”
Very cool, Nathan congratulated himself. He couldn’t believe how relaxed he’d sounded, considering the fact that the woman who’d flitted through his dreams for the past eight years had suddenly lighted on his sofa. He wanted to move very slowly so she wouldn’t zip away. That was stupid, though. Mariah had come here with her own agenda, not to restart their abandoned relationship.
She was prettier than the photo her father’d let him have. The camera deadened her electric blue-green eyes, doused the life in her face, dulled the gleam in her golden brown curls. She’d done something to the ends—bleached them blond. An interesting effect that made her look exotic. Though he’d left plenty of distance between them on the sofa, Mariah’s intensity seemed to fill the room all the way to the predictably high ceiling.
He thought about the last time he’d seen her, zooming down the highway, in a sea of white satin laughing her way away from him with Nikki, her partner in crime. He often wondered how things would have turned out if he’d gone with his first impulse and grabbed a car, chased her down and dragged her back. But those were just late-night thoughts with one too many scotches in his bloodstream. They were past all that now. It was about time he realized it and moved on.
“So, I hear you’re blowin’ town,” Mariah said. “What’s the deal?”
The deal was that he’d finally figured out why no relationship seemed to work, why he could be surrounded by people, busy with work he enjoyed, and still feel dead bored and lonely as hell. He’d been holding a torch for Mariah since she drove away from him eight years ago. He was a complete idiot. “I just think my life should be more…”
“Meaningful?”
“Exactly.”
“As my mother says, what’s more meaningful than candy?”
He laughed. “Your mother’s something else.”
“I know. And, Nathan…” She looked down, then up at him. “I really appreciate all you’ve done for my parents—looking out for them, working with my dad these past years.”
Mariah’s words made Nathan realize how much more mature she’d become. She’d seemed so scared and uncertain at seventeen, he’d wanted to protect her from everything. Now, besides being more beautiful, she’d become more confident, more sure of her place in the world.
“It’s been a pleasure,” he said, pushing away his observations. “They’re great people. Like family. But I think it’s time for me to move on.”
His words seemed to worry her. For a second, he had the insane hope she didn’t want to lose him. “What are you thinking of doing?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I signed up for a conference to explore my options. It’s a retreat for business people tired of business.”
She was trying not to laugh, he could see. Her face had always revealed every feeling. “A retreat for businessmen? Isn’t that an oxymoron—like jumbo shrimp or military intelligence?”
“Not at all.” He’d explain it in its best light. “They have career counselors there. Motivational speakers. Aptitude tests, résumé analysis and, I don’t know, discussions. Speakers who’ve broken off and done different work. It’s a place to start.”
“Mom thinks you’re just having an early midlife crisis.”
He barely managed a smile. “She may be right. I just know I can’t stay here.”
“My parents are completely freaked about you leaving.”
“We’ve got good staff. The floor manager, Dave Woods, could probably take over. He’s not as passionate about the product as your dad, but he’d do fine. As far as that goes, we could hire a headhunter to find someone your dad likes.”
“That