Where Two Hearts Meet

by Carrie Turansky

  She laughed. “Tyler, you always were a dreamer.”

  He took a sip and gazed at her over the rim of his mug. “I’ve always known you had a special gift.” He nodded toward her artwork. “That painting proves it. It draws you in, makes you feel like you could step right into that room.” He focused on the cozy scene. “You’ve invited a good friend over for the evening. You light the fire, put on the coffee, slice the pie, and get out your Bible so you can sit down and talk about what you’ve been learning.”

  She sent him a curious glance. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.” Most people who’d looked at the painting didn’t even realize the open book on the footstool was a Bible. But Tyler had.

  He nodded, looking pleased, and took another sip of coffee. “So, are you ready to take a look at my designs for Sweet Something?”

  She agreed, picked up her cup, and led the way to the living room.

  Tyler opened his portfolio and spread out his designs on the coffee table, then took a seat beside her on the couch. “I worked with several different concepts, but these three are the strongest. Of course we can always combine ideas and change things around.”

  Allison was suddenly very conscious of Tyler’s nearness. His shoulder brushed against hers as he reached to pick up the first design, and the warm spicy scent of his aftershave tickled her nose. She clasped her hands and forced herself to focus.

  Tyler explained how he came up with the logos. Then he showed her each one on menus, business cards, a new outdoor sign, a newspaper ad, even gift certificates and discount coupons. “So what do you think? Which do you like best?” Confidence and expectation glowed in his eyes. He seemed to have no doubt she’d like his work.

  “They’re all beautiful. I’m not sure how to choose one.”

  “Go with your feelings. Which one stands out to you?”

  “Well . . . I guess I’d say this one.” She pointed to the logo featuring a delicate teacup and a soft pink rose in full bloom. The swirling green type and soft pastel colors in the rose and cup looked sophisticated yet fresh and inviting—just the image she wanted to project.

  “That’s actually my favorite, too.” He turned to her and smiled. His expression softened, and tenderness filled his eyes as his gaze traveled over her face and hair.

  Allison felt certain he wasn’t thinking about logo designs anymore. Her heartbeat sped up, and she held her breath, waiting to hear what he would say next.

  The doorbell rang. Allison jumped as if someone had poked her with a sharp stick. “Sorry. Excuse me a minute. I’ll see who that is.” She crossed the living room, pulled opened the door, and stared in stunned silence.

  “Hello, Allison.” Peter Hillinger leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

  How could she have forgotten she had a dinner date with Peter? Her mind whirled back to the day she had received the anonymous check. Right after Tyler had walked out the door of her shop, Peter had come in. When he’d invited her out to dinner, she’d been so flustered she’d said yes without thinking it through or writing it down.

  “May I come in?”

  “Yes, of course . . . I’m sorry.” She stepped back and darted a glance at Tyler. He stood and looked Peter over warily.

  A slight frown creased Peter’s high forehead when he saw Tyler. He sent Allison a questioning glance.

  She forced a tight smile. “Peter, this is Tyler Lawrence. He’s . . . an old friend, and he’s offered to do some promotional work for the teashop.” She turned to Tyler, her mind spinning as she tried to come up with an explanation. “This is Peter Hillinger. He owns Princeton Interiors, the shop next to ours.”

  The two men shook hands, a challenge obvious in both their eyes.

  Peter turned back to Allison. “Our dinner reservations are for eight o’clock, but I think they’ll hold them for a few minutes if you’d like to change.”

  She glanced down at her outfit. “Oh . . . yes, I guess I should.” She turned to Tyler, wishing she could explain. “I’m sorry. It looks like we’ll have to finish this another time.”

  “No problem. I’ll call you.” He smiled, but disappointment clouded his eyes. At least she hoped it was disappointment and not irritation because she’d cut their evening short.

  * * * *

  Tyler watched Allie walk down the hall and slip into the first room on the right. Regret burned in his throat. There would be no more opportunity to talk to her tonight.

  He felt Peter’s haughty glare even before he turned to face him. Peter wore an expensive-looking black wool overcoat, white silk scarf, and leather gloves. Tyler had spent less than two minutes with the man, but that was long enough to know he didn’t like him. His puffed-up attitude was bad enough, but the way he’d kissed Allie and walked into her house like he owned it, bothered him even more.

  “So you’re an old friend of Allison’s?” Peter pulled off his gloves.

  “Yes, we’ve known each other since college.”

  “That’s funny.” Peter sent him a slight smile. “I don’t remember her ever mentioning you.”

  Those words cut deeply, and it took him a moment to recover. “Allie and I lost touch for a few years, but I’m back in Princeton now.”

  Peter glanced at the designs on the table. He lifted his brows for a brief moment, looking impressed, then glanced back at Tyler. “Interesting. But I’m not sure Allison needs any of this.”

  “I suppose that’s up to her, isn’t it?” Tyler gathered up his artwork, slid them back into his portfolio, and closed the flap.

  “I appreciate your wanting to help Allison with her business, but I hope that’s all you have in mind.”

  Tyler gripped the handles of the portfolio, wishing he could knock the pompous expression off Peter’s face. A verse he had memorized flew to the front of his thoughts. A foolish man gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control. He walked away from Peter and grabbed his jacket and coat from the closet.

  Peter followed as though he were the host and intended to show Tyler out the door. “Allison has been through a lot over the past year, helping her sister through everything that’s happened, and she’s had a rather difficult time getting her business up and running. I’ve been there for her every step of the way.” He narrowed his steel gray eyes, looking as though he wanted to make sure Tyler understood the message behind his words. “We’ve grown very close. I wouldn’t want anyone to hurt her.” Tyler squared his shoulders and locked gazes with Peter. “Neither would I.” He turned and walked out the door.

  * * * *

  “You invited him over to your house?” Tessa turned from brushing crumbs off one of the tearoom tables and stared at Allison.

  “Well, he wanted to show me his design ideas.” Allison straightened the stack of menus, trying to ignore the disapproval in her sister’s eyes.

  “Right, I’m sure he had all kinds of designs he wanted to show you.”

  “Tessa, nothing happened! We had coffee and looked at his promotional plans for about twenty minutes. Then Peter came to pick me up for dinner.” That thought left her feeling like a deflated balloon. After she’d changed and walked back into the living room, Peter was the only one waiting for her.

  “So how was your date with Peter?”

  “We went to Lambertville Station. The food was good. There was a jazz trio playing.”

  “So things are progressing?”

  “I suppose. Peter’s just so . . .” She squinted, trying to come up with the right word.

  “Mature, confident, wealthy?”

  Allison rolled her eyes. “Too bad you’re already married. You could date him!”

  “We’re not talking about me. Were talking about you and Peter.”

  “I know.” Confusion swirled through Allison. “I like him. He’s thoughtful and interesting, but there’s something missing. It’s like I have to try too hard with him. And I just don’t feel a connection with him like I do with Ty. . .” She swallowed the rest of her sentence a
nd turned to push in the chairs at the nearest table.

  “You’re not thinking about dating Tyler again, are you?” Tessa tapped her nails on the oak desk they used as a hostess podium.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Good. Remember what happened last time. He left town and broke your heart.”

  She winced at her sister’s words. “I know. You don’t have to remind me.”

  “Sorry.” Tessa softened her tone. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let Tyler talk me into anything more than a business relationship.” But as Allison turned and glanced across the quiet teashop, she remembered how Tyler had spent the previous afternoon greeting customers and clearing tables for her. He seemed different somehow—still charming and persuasive as ever, but there was a softening, a gentleness about him that was new . . . and very attractive.

  “Allison?” Tessa tapped her on the shoulder. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “No. Sorry, guess I was daydreaming.”

  “About Peter or Tyler?”

  “Tessa, stop! I am not interested in Tyler.” Allison huffed and strode toward the kitchen.

  * * * *

  Four days was long enough to wait. Allison slipped Tyler’s business card from her apron pocket and picked up the phone. She glanced at the clock by the front door, hoping she could make the call and connect with Tyler before her sister returned from the bank. The shop didn’t open until eleven, so she didn’t need to worry about taking care of customers for at least another hour. She quickly punched in his number and whispered a prayer. On the third ring the receptionist answered. Allison willed her voice to sound confident as she asked to speak to Tyler.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Lawrence is out of the office this morning. May I take a message?”

  “Yes. Mr. Lawrence showed me some designs last Tuesday, but our meeting was interrupted. I’ve been expecting him to call so we could set up another meeting.”

  “I’m sure he meant to get back to you, but he’s been sick for a few days.”

  Her heart jerked. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

  “I really couldn’t say, but if you’d like to leave your name and number, I’ll let him know you called.”

  Allison left the information and hung up the phone. She glanced out the teashop’s front windows. Gray storm clouds gathered, and wind whistled in the eaves. Where was the promise of spring? She shivered and rubbed her arms.

  Over the past week her financial troubles had become increasingly clear. The anonymous check had been a wonderful gift that carried them through early March, but unless she could bring in more customers soon, her business was doomed.

  She closed her eyes. Father, I can’t live off my savings forever, and You know how much Tessa and Matt need the extra income. We have to start making a profit. I need Tyler's help for that, but I’m afraid I've botched things with him, and now he's sick.

  Little vines of worry wrapped around her heart as she considered the possibilities. How sick was he? Had he seen a doctor? Was anyone checking on him?

  Chapter Four

  Allison slipped the heavy basket over her arm and rang Tyler’s doorbell. Her heartbeat surged in her ears as she strained to hear any sounds inside his apartment.

  Nothing. She bit her lip and rang again. This plan had to work. Her only hope was to make amends with Tyler and convince him to follow through on his offer to do free promotional work for Sweet Something.

  Finally, she heard a soft shuffle and the door swung open. Tyler looked out at her through red-rimmed, watery eyes. His baggy gray sweatpants and a wrinkled navy blue T-shirt made it look as though he had just crawled out of bed. He blinked at her. “Allie, what are you doing here?”

  Heat rose in her cheeks, and she forced a smile. “I called your office, and they told me you were sick, so I thought I’d bring you some lunch.”

  “Wow, that’s nice. Would you like to come in?” He stepped back and glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry, things are kind of a mess.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. I can tell you’ve been sick.”

  He ran a hand over his bristly chin and sent her a sheepish grin. “I probably look worse than my apartment.”

  He looked adorable, but she quickly squelched that thought. “You look like a guy who needs to sit down and put his feet up.” She pointed toward the dark brown leather couch. “Go on.” Tyler obediently headed for the couch. He tossed his pillow to one end and straightened the blanket and sheet before he sat down. “So what’s in the basket?”

  She set it on the coffee table next to a worn, brown leather Bible. That surprised her. Of course she knew Tyler had prayed and asked Christ into his heart when he was twenty-one. She’d been with him that night. But everything she’d heard about him since he’d left Princeton made her doubt his sincerity. If he was serious about his faith, how could he have been arrested for drinking and driving? And worse yet, how could he have a reputation for being involved in a string of broken relationships? Her stomach clenched at that thought.

  Focusing on her basket, she folded back the blue tea towel. “I brought you some homemade chicken-noodle soup, blueberry muffins, applesauce, bottled water, tissues, and some cold and flu medication.” She felt a little embarrassed by the overflowing collection she’d put together for him. But she needed him to get well as soon as possible.

  He sent her an appreciative smile. “I haven’t been able to eat much for a few days, but soup sounds great.”

  “Good. Why don’t I warm some up for you?”

  He glanced toward the kitchen. “I haven’t cleaned up in there for a couple days.”

  “It’s okay. You lie down and rest, and I’ll be back with some hot soup in a couple minutes.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  She picked up the basket and headed for the adjoining kitchen. Her steps slowed as she scanned the room. Dirty dishes and sticky pots and pans cluttered the counter and sink. Newspapers lay scattered on the small kitchen table, as well as a stack of unopened mail, two empty coffee cups, and a take-out bag from Mrs. Chow’s Chinese Restaurant.

  She looked for a microwave, but didn’t see one. So she checked the cabinet and found a pan, poured in the soup, and turned on the burner. She decided to rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher while she waited for the soup to warm. Glancing at the windowsill, she noticed a stack of 3 x 5 cards. Leaning closer, she saw a Bible reference written on the top card in Tyler’s neat, all-cap handwriting. Surprise rippled through her.

  “Are you finding everything you need?” Tyler called.

  Allison jumped. “Yes, no problem.”

  “Sounds like more is happening in there than warming up the soup.”

  “I’m just loading the dishwasher.” She leaned forward again and read the card. “Flee the evil desires of youth, and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart.” 2 Timothy 2:22.

  The power of those words warmed her heart. With damp fingers, she reached up and flipped to the next card. “You have made known to me the paths of life; You will fill me with joy in your presence—”

  “Allie, you don’t have to wash dishes for me.” Tyler’s gentle rebuke startled her.

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him standing in the kitchen doorway. Plunging her hands in the soapy water, she began vigorously scrubbing a small frying pan. “I don’t mind. Might as well make myself useful.”

  Tyler leaned against the doorjamb, his hands in his pockets. A small smile lifted the comers of his mouth. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m not usually such a slob, but the last few days I’ve really been wiped out.”

  She blew out a deep breath. My, oh my, slob was not the word that came to mind when she looked at him. She silently chided herself and focused on the pan in her hands. What was the matter with her? She couldn’t deny her attraction to Tyler, but starting something with him would be foolish. She’d made the mistake o
f following her feelings and trusting him before, and she didn’t intend to get hurt like that again. Just because he memorized a few Bible verses, that didn’t mean he had truly changed, did it?

  “I think the soup is boiling.” He pointed toward the stove. “Oh, right.” She dropped the pan back in the dishwater and dried her hands on a towel.

  Tyler suggested they sit at the kitchen table. He gathered up the newspapers and tossed them in a box by the back door. Allison placed his steamy bowl of soup on the table.

  “Looks like there’s plenty,” he said. “Would you like some?”

  “No, that’s okay. I need to get back to the shop soon.”

  “Can you sit down for a few minutes?” He looked reluctant to eat without her, so she pulled out a chair and sat down.

  He extended his hand across the table toward her. “Would you pray with me?”

  Stunned, she slowly nodded and took his hand. His grasp was warm and strong.

  “Father, thanks for answering my prayers for strength and healing.” Tyler’s voice took on a gentle tone. “And thanks for sending Allie here today to encourage me and bring me this meal. I’m grateful. You’ve poured out Your grace and love in my life, and I pray You’ll give me a chance to do that for Allie. Please help us spread the word about Sweet Something, and we ask You to bless and increase her business.”

  Warmth and sweetness wrapped around her heart. She’d never expected Tyler to pray for her. Relief washed over her as she listened to the rest of his prayer. He certainly didn’t sound upset with her. He probably didn’t care that she’d cut their meeting short or that she’d gone out with Peter. Why had she even worried about that?

  “Amen.” Tyler squeezed her hand.

  She squeezed back and opened her eyes.

  He grinned. “This soup is making my mouth water.”

  She laughed softly and enjoyed watching his expression as he savored the first spoonful.