Once she’d accepted the truth of it, she had reveled in knowing her heart was open and happy and ready to accept the one man meant for her, she knew the next step was telling him. She needed him to hear the words—for his sake and for her own. She wanted to declare herself, to be honest and open. He’d had so much deception already. She sensed in her gut that the way to connect with him was to bare her soul...or, in this case, her heart. What he did after that was up to him.
With that in mind, she invited him to dinner, then picked up takeout from the Italian place they both loved.
“Hey, you,” Ronan said when he arrived. He kissed her. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“There’s been a lot going on.” She stared into his green eyes and saw the affection there. Her worry faded. He’d come so far. He was realizing how much love and family mattered. Maybe this would be okay.
They walked into the kitchen and he opened the wine he’d brought. “Tell me what’s been going on.”
She smiled. “Different things. I’m trying to keep my expectations low on selling the burned piece while at the same time planning for what to do if it does sell. I’ve been working on a budget, figuring out exactly how much I need to pay my bills. I’m nowhere near ready to quit my job, but I’d like to take off a couple weeks at a time. I don’t want to waste the days, so I need to know what I’m going to be doing. Obviously the big flower project for Atsuko, but there are other things, too.”
“You have been busy.” He handed her a glass of wine and they went into the living room and sat facing each other on the sofa. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you. Like I said, I’m trying to manage my expectations.”
“You’ve never had trouble selling anything before.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never had a piece priced so high.”
“It’ll sell. Trust me. I have total faith in you.”
She believed him yet wondered if total faith was the same as love.
“Enough about my still-uncertain future. How are you doing? Last I saw, great progress had been made on your commission.”
“That’s still the case. I’m starting to think about shipping and installation. Both are going to take some time.” He touched her face. “You should come with me. We’ll have a great time.”
“You’ll be busy, working sixteen-hour days to get the installation right. You won’t have time to miss me.”
“You’re wrong.”
She felt her stomach tighten. Did he mean that? Because if he did, maybe she wasn’t the only one to realize what had happened. Maybe it was all going to work out.
He chuckled. “What are you thinking? You have the strangest expression.”
“I want to show you something.”
She grabbed her laptop keyboard and opened the slide show she’d prepared, then brought the laptop back to the sofa and sat so Ronan could see the screen.
“What is that?” he asked, staring at a color photograph of his father’s work. “If you’re trying to break the mood, you’re doing a really good job.”
“Just look. Don’t think about the artist—he’s not important. Think about the art. That one.” She stopped the slide show on a massive glass wave that was all the colors of the sea. She half expected to see a dolphin jumping out of the water at any second. She would swear she could see the shadow of it, deep in the glass.
“He has a gift,” she said. “What he creates can be beautiful.” She started the show again and the pictures showed the darker side of his creations. Sharp, angry pieces that seemed to suck in all the light and happiness appeared on the screen.
“Some of his pieces are more to be appreciated rather than admired,” she continued. “But love it or hate it, his work inspires emotion.”
“If you say so.”
“You know I’m right.”
Ronan put down his wine. “Why are you doing this, Natalie? What’s the point?”
“If he wasn’t who he is, you wouldn’t be who you are. You get your ability to create from him. Can you imagine who you would be without that?”
“No.”
“So there is a plus side to having him as your dad.”
He looked at her. “And?”
She put the computer on the coffee table and faced him. “Like all of us, you’re the sum of your parts. I never knew my dad, but my mom loved him. I guess what I have inside that I didn’t see in my mom comes from him. I have no idea what kind of man he was, but I trust her and I trust who I am.”
“It’s different,” he told her. “The parent you knew was a wonderful person who loved you and nurtured you. It’s not the same for me.”
“It’s true that you don’t know who your biological mother is, but I disagree about it changing who you are inside. You are good and funny and smart and gifted and an amazing man.” She took his hands in hers. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Ronan. I’ve been so afraid to risk my heart. I lost my mom. Then I lost Quentin and, more importantly, his family. I was afraid to believe.” She smiled. “Until I met you. I love you and I wanted you to know.”
She tried to keep her voice light and hopeful but it was difficult as she watched his expression tighten and all emotion fade from his eyes.
“You’re all I’ve been looking for,” she went on. “I didn’t know it, but you are. I understand if you’re not ready or you don’t feel the same, but I needed to tell you. It seemed the right thing to do.”
At least, it had in the safety of her bedroom. Now, facing him, she was less sure about anything.
He stood up abruptly and glared at her. “Why did you have to do this? Why did you have to change everything? This isn’t going to work. What are you thinking? Look at you. You’re light and whole and happy. You think I want to be responsible for destroying that? Look at what I did to your canvas. I destroyed it.”
She stood. “You didn’t. It turned out even better.”
“You were lucky. I could have ruined it. I could ruin you. Do you know how that thought terrifies me? I could destroy you.”
“No. I’m stronger than that, Ronan. I always have been.”
“Do you know what’s inside of me?” he asked, his voice low and filled with fury. “Do you? Because I sure as hell don’t. I have him and that’s all. All the selfish, narcissistic evil in that man is in me. Every single day I think about that. When will I become him? When will I start hitting my kids and destroying their creations? When will I cheat on my wife and become an asshole? It’s just a matter of time.”
“You’re not him,” she protested. “You never have been. The fact that you worry about it proves the point. If you were like him, you wouldn’t care.”
He stared at her. “I won’t risk it. Not with you. Never with you.”
She reached for him, but he’d already pulled back too far. Her fingers grasped only air, and before she could stop him, he was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY
RONAN WANTED TO throw the cooled piece of glass against the wall, but knew that would make too much of a statement. Instead he dropped it into the large trash bin in the corner and tried to find satisfaction in the sound of it shattering into a thousand pieces.
He’d already sent his interns home. In the past two days he hadn’t made any progress. Everything he touched was a disaster. He couldn’t think, couldn’t sleep, and he wanted to run so far the gnawing ache in his gut couldn’t find him.
He ripped off his goggles as he tried to decide what to do. Working from home hadn’t helped. He’d tried that only to end up here. Maybe if he ate something, or got drunk, but neither sounded appealing.
Damn it all to hell, what had she been thinking? Showing him pictures of his father’s work, then telling him she loved him. Who did that? What was her point? Reminding him who his father was didn’t exactly get him in the mood. Ceallach was everything he didn’t
want to be. Why couldn’t she understand that?
And how could she love him? He was a moody SOB who was barely holding it together. He was a bad risk—she had to know that. He lived in fear that he would hurt her. Things had been difficult enough before, but now that she wanted him to know she loved him, it was so much worse.
Mathias glanced across the studio. “What has your panties in a bunch? You’ve had something up your ass for a couple of days now.”
Ronan ignored him and the mixed metaphor. Unfortunately Natalie chose that moment to walk into the studio. Ronan wasn’t sure she’d heard the exchange until she said, “That would be my fault.”
All three brothers looked at her. Nick and Mathias were both curious, while Ronan was filled with dread. She wouldn’t... She couldn’t possibly...
“He’s dealing with the fact that I told him I’m in love with him and he has no idea what to say back.”
Her courage knocked the wind out of him. Her voice was strong and the only evidence of what she’d been going through was in the slight puffiness around her eyes. Because she’d been crying? He didn’t want to think that, didn’t want to know if she’d been hurt. He never wanted to hurt her. She was everything to him, only he couldn’t—
He realized the room had gone totally silent. Everyone was staring at him. His brothers looked shocked, Natalie was in obvious pain and they all appeared to expect him to say something.
“No,” he said, more to himself than them. “Just no.”
He stormed out of the studio and got in his truck. There was only one place he could go and that was home. Halfway up the mountain he realized he didn’t want to be alone, but where else was there? He couldn’t go back to town and hang with his brothers. Natalie was totally off-limits. He’d hurt her enough already.
Without wanting to, he remembered what it had been like when he was a kid. How his father would casually backhand whichever of them was closest. They’d all learned to duck and weave until Del had gotten big enough to hit back. After that, Del had stood between his brothers and his father. When Del wasn’t around, Aidan took over, then Nick. By the time he and Mathias had been about sixteen, Ceallach had stopped trying to slap them around, but he’d worked his darkness in other ways.
He’d belittled them, had destroyed their work, mocked their abilities and generally made their lives hell. He’d dismissed his two older sons for not having any artistic ability and had convinced Mathias, the most gifted of them all, that he was worthless. Nick had stopped working with glass altogether, preferring to be a bartender than having anything to do with their father’s world.
There had been so much pain, so much regret, so much hiding and defending and not wanting to be like him.
He reached his house and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. He missed Natalie so much he wondered if he could keep breathing without her. He knew she trusted him completely, that she believed she would be fine and that he would never do anything bad. But she was wrong—her current pain was proof of that. And even if she wasn’t, her belief in him wasn’t enough. He had to believe in himself and he couldn’t.
* * *
“HEY.”
Natalie looked up from the paperwork on her desk, paperwork she couldn’t see because her eyes were filled with tears.
Nick stood in the doorway. “I just wanted to check on you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
She tried to smile and failed. Nick pulled her to her feet, then wrapped his strong arms around her.
“Damn,” he said gently. “That was about the bravest thing I ever saw.”
She gave in to the tears she’d been holding back. “You th-think?”
“I know. He’s an idiot. Want me to beat him up for you, because I will. I’ll need to take Mathias with me, but between the two of us, I’m pretty sure we can give him a black eye and maybe crack a bone or two.”
She cried harder, not only because she knew she’d lost Ronan but because of deeper, sadder pain. As Nick held her and tried to make her feel better, she realized that Ronan wasn’t the only Mitchell brother to gain a place in her heart. She’d fallen in love with all of them. Nick and Mathias, Pallas and Carol. Loving Ronan wasn’t just about him; it was about his family. Once again, she’d allowed herself to belong and to believe that she could be a part of something bigger than herself. Yes, they would still be her friends, but that wasn’t the same. She wanted them as her family.
“I w-wish it could have been different,” she whispered.
“Me, too.”
“I’m crying on your shirt.”
“Pallas is having a baby in a few months. I’m pretty sure after that a few tears are going to seem downright sanitary.”
She tried to laugh, but her throat was too tight. “Don’t be mad, but I hoped we’d be a family,” she admitted.
He touched her chin, forcing her to look at him. “We are,” he told her. “No matter what, we’ll be here for you. I’ve got your back and so does everyone else you know, Natalie. You’re not alone.”
“Thank you.” She knew in her head he was right—it was her heart that was going to take some convincing.
He studied her for a second. “You know what, kid? I have an idea about how to fix all this. I should have thought of it before.”
“Don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. You can’t shame Ronan into loving me. I wouldn’t want that.”
He kissed the top of her head. “No shame, I promise. Just trust me. It’s a really good plan.”
Natalie wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t. She’d run out of faith—at least for the moment.
* * *
RONAN’S WEEK ONLY went downhill. He missed Natalie more than he would have thought possible. Sure, he saw her at the gallery, because he couldn’t seem to stay home, where he wouldn’t see her. Every morning he told himself to just stay put and he would be fine and within the hour he was driving down the mountain.
He wasn’t sure why he bothered. He wasn’t working, couldn’t work. He couldn’t sleep or do anything but think about her and what she’d said. She was possibly the bravest person he’d ever met.
He knew what he wanted. Plain and simple, he wanted her. All of her—heart and soul. He wanted to be with her, love her, spend the rest of his life with her. He needed her, ached for her, dreamed about her the few hours that he slept. So he existed in a hellish world where he saw her, heard her voice and yet wasn’t with her.
The once-burned mixed-media piece sold in three days. He left a bottle of champagne on her desk, but couldn’t stand to speak to her. She was already hard at work on another piece like it. No doubt she would ask either Mathias or Nick to burn it for her. Not him. Never him.
He kept waiting for his brothers to call him on his shit, but they avoided him instead, acting as if nothing had happened, as if everything he’d ever wanted wasn’t crumbling around them. And so it went on until he couldn’t stand it anymore.
Nearly a week after Natalie’s heart-wrenching confession, a woman walked into the studio. She was tall and slim, with blond hair and green eyes. He’d never seen her before and would guess she was in her early forties, although she could have been older.
Natalie was in the office, so it was just him and his brothers. When no one else looked up at her, Ronan walked over.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
She smiled at him, the corners of her mouth trembling slightly. “Ronan Mitchell?” she asked, her voice shaking.
He nodded, hoping she wasn’t some buyer who wanted to have a personal experience with him. He wasn’t that kind of artist. He should direct her to the gallery and tell her—
He felt a prickling sensation start at the back of his neck, then work down his spine. She wasn’t a fan or a collector of art. At least, that wasn’t why she was here. He had no idea how he knew
that, but he was as sure of it as he was of—
The woman cleared her throat. “This is much harder than I expected, although I don’t know why I would have thought it would be easy. It’s not, is it?” She gave a hollow laugh, then pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I swear, I’m not going to cry. I wouldn’t do that. It’s just so much to take in.”
She swallowed and held out her hand. “I promise, I’ll start making sense now. I’m Pippa Waddell and I’m your biological mother.”
The room went completely quiet. It was as if the ovens had shut off and his brothers stopped working and there was only stillness as her words echoed over and over again until they were all he could hear.
“I can see by the look on your face this is a complete surprise,” she said before reaching for a chair by his desk. “I’m feeling a little light-headed. Do you mind if I sit down?”
He held the chair for her. As she sank down, Mathias went and got two glasses of water. Ronan took them and offered her one before sitting across from her. His brothers disappeared into the break room. He doubted they were out of earshot, but that was fine. He didn’t have any secrets from them.
She sipped the water. “Thank you. I took the red-eye last night and drove in from Los Angeles. I’m a little tired.” She tried to smile and failed.
He wanted to ask why she was here. How had she found him and why now, only he couldn’t seem to speak.
She set down her glass. “I met your father at a gallery in New York. I was young, barely nineteen, and totally art struck. I was an art history major.” She wrinkled her nose. “Yes, so very practical, but I couldn’t help it. I loved all forms of art, and when it came to your father, I was a devoted fan.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “Meeting him was unexpected. He was so funny and charming, so handsome.” Color flared on her cheeks. “I knew he was older and married, but none of that seemed to matter. I thought of myself as so very worldly and believed I was ready for a man like him.”
She picked up her glass, then put it down again. “We started an affair. It was very torrid. Looking back, I realize I was completely out of my element. I was a silly girl from a small town who didn’t understand what she was doing. I didn’t think about the consequences of my actions or the pain they would cause others. All I knew was that for those brief months, Ceallach was my world.”
Why Not Tonight Page 25
