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“Did you ever think about…” There had to be something holding him there. She spent the night with him, but they barely talked. “Do you have children?”
His expression turned unreadable. “No. It’s just me.”
And, somehow, without having to actually say the words, he told her that was exactly how he preferred his life.
They were so close she could see the golden flecks in his blue irises. It was getting late. A Cinderella-like fear took shape in her heart, spurring her forward as something warned that by this time tomorrow her carriage would turn back to a pumpkin. “We should go. They’re trying to close.”
He helped her into her coat and paid the tab. Outside, the parking lot was half empty and dusted with a thin veil of freshly fallen snow.
The metallic air nipped at her nose, and she pulled a pair of red knit gloves out of her pockets.
“Cold?” He removed the scarf from his wool dress coat and wrapped it carefully around her neck. The soft cashmere smelled of him, and she never wanted to give it back.
“Thanks.”
They stopped midway between her dated Volvo and his swanky luxury sedan. The silent debate went on for only a few seconds before they both spoke at the same time.
“The hotel’s not that far.”
“We should probably walk.”
Glad they were both on the same page after having several drinks, she took his hand as they strolled down Main Street. She liked that he shortened his strides to match hers, and how they could still enjoy each other’s presence in silence.
The storefronts were dark and the road was empty. The town was as peaceful and as beautiful as a Christmas card. She liked the pink and purple decorations the town put out for Valentine’s Day. Would Harrison still be here on the fourteenth?
After that, the storefronts would turn green, for St. Paddy’s. By then Harrison would surely be gone.
The longer they walked in silence the louder reality seemed to scream. There was nothing she could do to keep him here. He was going to leave her again and it was going to hurt like hell, just like it had before.
Her gloved hand tightened around his, and he gently squeezed her fingers. They were already through the looking glass and there was no going back. She might as well enjoy the adventure while it lasted.
CHAPTER 8
The night was too still, like they were walking through a painting on a postcard, a facsimile of a place he almost recognized, a place that looked safe and welcoming, but that familiar itch of discomfort wouldn’t wane. Everything seemed too good to be true.
As if reading his thoughts, Mariella glanced up at him. “Does it look different from when we were kids?”
“Smaller. I remember everything bigger.”
She smiled, her cheeks rosy and her nose red from the cold. “The mayor did hire a special crew of architects to come in and shrink everything down while you were gone.”
“I figured.”
Their steps were quiet over the pavement, the newly fallen snow muffling any noise. At the bar, he could think of little more than getting inside of her. But now, he enjoyed their leisurely pace as he simply strolled beside her. New York was never this quiet or unhurried.
His gaze snagged on something shiny up ahead, resting on the brick walk, just out front of the hardware store. He had no interest in passing his dad’s store, but he wanted to see what was sitting on the sidewalk.
As they closed the distance, his thoughts jumbled. A package? No, it looked too flimsy to be a box. Newspapers? Maybe they were stacking up since no one had been by. Then the object came into view and he realized they were flowers.
His feet stopped and his jaw locked. The dated mosaic tile marking the entrance with the letters MH—Montgomery Hardware—brought an unwanted deluge of memories to the forefront of his mind.
“Someone left flowers for your dad.” Mariella’s soft voice didn’t match the turmoil splintering between his ears as he stared down at the wilting bouquet.
They all loved Ward Montgomery.
Visions of his childhood home ransacked his mind as the quiet night screamed with remembered chaos. The echo of his mother’s voice shrilled through his mind, sharp with panic and then brave with protective rage. Was that even her voice? She left when he was so young, he could hardly remember.
He heard the whip of his father’s belt and a mixture of panicked cries. His mother’s pleading as she begged through tears and promised things. Words that would change absolutely nothing about the way his father was.
Then came his father’s endless taunts.
Lazy! Useless! Ingrate!
Sorry excuse… Pathetic…Cry baby…
Leech! Selfish! Stupid!
He could hear his father mimicking him when Harrison would sometimes stumble over his spelling words. “Dar—dar—dar… Sound like one of those morons on the slow bus. No brains and no ambition. I’ll have to carry you your whole life.”
