Why Not Tonight
Page 15

“You like working in paper.”
“I do. It’s fun. Not just the origami, but other things. I’ve done a few paper mobiles for baby gifts. That’s been interesting. Sometimes Pallas asks me to help with a wedding.”
“Nick’s Pallas?” He sounded surprised.
She nodded. “You do remember that she owns a destination wedding business, right? Couples come from all over to be married at Weddings Out of the Box.”
“I’ve heard rumors, yes.”
“Most of the weddings are variations on a theme, but every now and then one of them is totally custom. If there’s something I can do to help, I will. It’s fun for me and a nice bonus for the income stream. One of the Valentine’s Day weddings was all things hearts. Not original considering, but still. I made origami hearts that held the place cards for the reception, and a lot of bigger folded hearts for decorations. Last year for an under-the-sea wedding, I made little turtles and starfish that were scattered on the tables.” A lot of work, but she’d enjoyed the challenge.
“Nick helps Pallas with a lot of her decorations,” Ronan said. “He enjoys the work.”
“You made the glowy orbs for the alien wedding.” She remembered how cool they’d looked with all the other decorations. “It’s nice to be a part of things. Maybe I should learn to do caricatures.”
“For weddings?”
“At the reception. As a memento. I’d have to be really fast, though, which probably takes a lot of practice.”
“You’re not going to settle on just one thing, are you?”
“Maybe if I could sell it for a lot of money,” she said with a laugh. “I love being an artist, but I do enjoy paying my bills. For the right price, I could be bought.”
Her record sale had been for nearly two thousand dollars, but that had been for an entire collection, and for a fundraiser. She hadn’t seen a cent. She’d yet to sell a single piece for more than three hundred dollars, and she had to split her sad little payment with the gallery. Oh, to be in the four-figure range.
She glanced at Ronan. His pieces sold for several hundred thousand dollars. What must that be like, to never have to worry about money? She and her mom had always pinched pennies, but her mom had made it fun—like a game. Their frugal habits had served her well as an adult.
Having a baby would be a financial responsibility, she thought as she remembered her baby daddy app. She would need savings and more regular income and better medical insurance.
Ronan frowned. “What are you thinking? You’re looking fierce about something.”
“Just that I might not be ready to have a baby by myself.”
“Rethinking the app?”
“I’m still going to play with it, but I’m not ready for a donor at this exact moment.” But if she started seriously planning, then maybe in the next year or so.
She knew she wanted a family—connection. She talked about having bad luck with men because it was an easy almost-truth. The real story was harder and more painful. First she’d lost her mother, her only family. Later, when Quentin had dumped her, she’d not only lost the man she’d loved, she’d lost the promise of belonging. Until he’d told her otherwise, she’d believed that his family cared about her and wanted her to be one of them. But she’d been wrong and once again she’d been left alone. A baby would mean being part of something again.
She would have to think on it and decide what was the most important to her. Was she willing to work full-time and put her art on the back burner for the chance to belong? Because that would mean she could get pregnant much sooner. Life, it seemed, was always about choices.
“Come on,” she said, standing and walking to the door. “I defrosted some cooked chicken and a loaf of bread overnight. I thought we could have chicken salad sandwiches for dinner.” She paused by the door and wiggled her eyebrows at him. “I’ll even cook.”
“Impressive.”
“I know, right? Oh, and maybe we could eat in the family room instead of the dining room.”
He paused in midstride and stared at her. “Why?” he asked, his voice more than a little suspicious.
“I thought we could watch a movie.”
“Uh-huh. Which one?”
“Which one do you think?”
“Not Frozen. I mean that, Natalie. We are not watching a kids’ movie over dinner.”
She walked onto the landing and started down the stairs. “It’s so strange. I know you’re talking but all I hear is a buzzing sound.”
* * *
NATALIE WAITED UNTIL the credits finished rolling before turning to Ronan. “Admit it. You have to. You know I’m right. You loved every single minute of it.”
Ronan leaned back in the big sofa and shook his head. “I’m not admitting anything.” Then he glanced at her. One corner of his mouth turned up in the sexiest way possible. “It was okay.”
She threw a pillow at him. “You are so lying. It was wonderful. You laughed, you got scared, you were totally engaged.”
“I wasn’t scared.”
“The ice monster scared you. I could tell.” She stood and stretched. “Olaf and Sven are the best. And Elsa and Anna. I wish I’d had a sister with magical powers. Or maybe just a regular sister. Didn’t you love the animation? The Disney team is so talented. And the way they seamlessly blended in the songs. Wouldn’t it be fun to do that?” She drew in a breath, then stopped herself. Singing was not her thing. Or at least not in front of other people. She was actually pretty decent in the shower.
Ronan rose and faced her. “You’re a little like a pinball, heading in forty-seven directions at once.”
“Am not.” She considered his statement. “Okay, maybe a little. It’s just everything is so interesting. We should make cookies. We’ll want them later. You’ve got the premade ones you only have to bake. You know, for our midnight snack.” She leaned close and put her hand on his chest. “Later, when ‘Let It Go’ is stuck in your head, you’ll remember tonight.”
She expected him to laugh, or groan or do something other than put his hands on her waist and pull her close right before he settled his mouth on hers.
His move was so unexpected she almost didn’t react. Or rather she almost did react by pulling back and asking him what on earth he was thinking. Only she managed to stop herself in time, which was a really good thing because Ronan’s kiss—even a casual, practically chaste kiss—was a not-to-be-missed experience.
His mouth was warm against hers. Purposeful without being too demanding. He kissed with intent and intensity, all the while not moving or taking or doing anything but holding his lips right there, on hers, until her whole body began to burn, and she knew, she just knew, nothing would ever be the same again.
He drew back. His gaze was determined, his expression unreadable. She had no idea what he was thinking, but if she had to guess, she would say he was making a decision. To do more? To stop? To—
“I’m sorry.”
“Noooo.” She drew back and put her hands on her hips. “Do not apologize. That ruins everything.”
“You’re my guest.”
“So?”
“I want you to feel safe while you’re here. I shouldn’t have done that.”