Waiting For Nick
Page 50

"You think I'm going to let you climb up to the lady's window?"
Nick shifted his bags. "Mooney, how long have you known me?"
"Too long." But he smiled a little. "What have you got in mind?"
By the time Nick finished telling him, Mooney was grinning. "Tell you what I'm going to do, since I've watched you grow from a snot-nosed punk into an upstanding citizen. I'm going to stand right down here and let you give it your best shot. If the lady isn't receptive, you're coming right back down."
"Deal. Listen, it could take a little time. She's pretty stubborn."
"Aren't they all? I'll give you a leg up, boy." With Mooney's help, Nick managed to yank down the ladder. After a climb that reminded him that his bruises were still very much around, he tapped on Freddie's window.
Moments later, she jerked it open. Her eyes were a little swollen, and that cheered him. Even if the expression in them wasn't welcoming.
"Fred, I want to—"
She slammed the window down and flipped the lock.
"Strike one, Nick!" Mooney called up. A man came out of the bakery behind him and paused next to the cop.
"What's going on?"
"The boy up there's trying to charm the lady."
Nick prayed it was just temper. If she'd finally written him off, he'd lose everything that mattered. He only had to get her attention, he assured himself, and wiped a damp, nervous hand on his jeans. He pulled the flowers out first. They'd gotten a little crushed, but he didn't think she'd notice.
He rapped again, harder. "Open up, Fred. I brought you flowers. Look." More than a little desperate, he waved the bouquet when her face appeared on the other side of the glass. "Yellow roses, your favorite."
Her answer was to yank the drapes smartly shut.
"Strike two, Nick!"
"Shut up, Mooney," he muttered.
He was drawing a crowd now, but he ignored it as he pulled out his next weapon. After arranging the candles in their holders, he lighted them. He turned to the blank window and tried to pitch his voice loud enough so Fred would have to hear him, but not so loud that he'd get commentary from below.
"Hey, I've got candlelight out here, Fred… Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look in candlelight? The way your eyes sparkle and your skin kind of glows? You look beautiful in any light, really, sunlight or moonlight. I should have told you that. I should have told you a lot of things."
Nick shut his eyes a moment, took a breath. "I was afraid I'd mess up and ruin your life, Fred, so I messed up anyway and nearly ruined both our lives." His hands were pressed against the window glass now, as if he could will her to open it. "Let me fix it. I've got to fix it. Just let me tell you everything I should have told you. Like the way the smell of you haunts me. I breathe you for hours, even when you're not there, like you're inside me."
"That's pretty good," Mooney noted to several people who'd stopped to watch. They all agreed with him.
"Open the window, Fred. I need to touch you."
He wasn't even sure if she was listening. All he could see was the insulated barrier of draperies. He set up the portable keyboard, to the hoots and calls of encouragement of the crowd below.
"We wrote this song for each other, Fred, and I didn't even know it."
He played the opening chord from "It Was Ever You" and, tossing pride away, sang.
He was into the second verse before she snapped the drapes aside and tossed up the window.
"Stop it," she demanded. "You're making a fool out of yourself and embarrassing me. Now I want you to—"
"I love you."
That stopped her. He saw tears swim into her eyes before she fought them back. "I'm not putting myself through this again. Now go away."
"I've always loved you, Freddie," he said quietly. "That's why there was never anyone else who meant anything, or could. I was wrong, stupid, to think I had to let you go. I need you to forgive me, Fred, to give me another chance, because there's nothing without you."
The first tear fell. "Oh, why are you doing this? I'd made up my mind."
"I should have done it a long time ago. Don't leave me, Fred. Give me a chance." Nick picked up the flowers again and offered them.
After a moment's hesitation, she took them. "It isn't just flowers, Nick. I was angry then. It's—"
"I was afraid to love you," he murmured. "Because it was so big, so huge, I thought it might swallow me whole. And I was afraid to show you."
Her gaze lifted from the flowers, held his. She'd once dreamed about seeing that look in his eyes. The tenderness, the strength, and the love. "I never wanted you to be anything but what you are, Nick."
"Come on out." His eyes never left hers when he held out his hand. "Welcome to my world."
She sniffled, then shook her head with a laugh. "All right, but we'll probably be arrested for arson."
"No problem. I've got a cop watching."
Even as she stepped out on the crowded platform, she looked down. Besides the uniform, there were several others in the audience. Someone waved at her.
"Nick, this is ridiculous. We can talk this through inside."
"I like it out here." She'd wanted romance. By God, he was going to give it to her. "And there's not much to talk about—just tell me you still love me."
"I do." Swamped with it, she lifted a hand to his cheek. "I do love you."
"Forgive me?"
"I wasn't going to. Ever. I was going to live without you, Nick."
"That's what I was afraid of." He laid a hand over the one resting on his cheek. "And now?"
"You haven't left me much choice." She brushed a tear away. "What were you thinking of, candles and music before noon?"
She'd already forgiven him, he realized, humbled. "I thought it was time I did the courting. Do you want me to go to the next step in my master plan?"
"I want to apologize about that."
"I hope you won't." He lifted her hand and kissed it, in a gesture that made her blink. "I intend to remind you, for the rest of your life, that you came gunning for me. I'm glad you did." He kissed her hand again. "I'm going to need a long time to show my gratitude." Watching her, he shifted and took a small box out of his pocket. "I'm hoping you'll give it to me. Marry me, Fred." He flipped the top on the box to reveal an elegantly simple, traditional diamond. "No one's ever loved you the way I do. No one ever will."