Two hours later, Christy-Lynn’s errands were complete, and she was on her way home, eager to put the final touches on her first ever DIY project. Her heart skittered when she pulled into the driveway and saw Wade’s Jeep. He was sitting inside with the engine turned off, scribbling in one of the leather journals he always carried with him. He set the journal aside when he heard her approach but said nothing, his expression unreadable.
“Hi.”
He nodded curtly. “Hello.”
“I didn’t expect to see you. I wasn’t sure where you’d gone.”
“I went to see my mother for her birthday and decided to stay awhile. I needed to clear my head.”
Christy-Lynn wasn’t sure she wanted to know what clearing his head might mean. “I have the notes on the rest of the manuscript.”
“Yes. I got your text.”
“I wasn’t sure you had. I didn’t hear back after the last one.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I thought it best. I wasn’t sure I was coming back, and I didn’t want to . . . confuse things.”
The news that he’d even considered not coming back to Sweetwater made Christy-Lynn’s stomach knot. “But you did come back. You’re here.”
He eyed her coolly, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “At some point, you have to stop running, don’t you? And you still have my manuscript.”
“Right. It’s inside. Do you want to come in?”
“I’ll wait out here.”
His abrupt refusal stung. “All right. I’ll just be a minute.”
Christy-Lynn was more than a little shaken as she unlocked the front door. She was hoping there would be a conversation, a chance to apologize, to explain, but he’d made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t interested in apologies or explanations.
She hurried to retrieve the manuscript and notes from her nightstand, then started back down the hall, wanting him gone before she made a complete fool of herself. She wasn’t expecting to find him standing in the living room holding Tolstoy.
“You left the door open,” he explained, setting the cat down on the arm of the love seat. “He was about to stage a prison break.”
“Thanks.” She handed him the pages and stepped back, not trusting herself to stand too close. “I hope the notes help but feel free to ignore every word if you don’t agree. It has to be yours, or it won’t work.”
He glanced briefly at the pages before tucking them under his arm. “Thank you. I’d be happy to pay you.”
The chilly response felt like a slap. “I didn’t do it for money. I did it for you.”
Wade shifted uncomfortably. “I better get going.”
“Wait. Can I show you something? It’ll only take a minute.” His eyes slid to the door, and she saw that he was about to say no. “Please?”
He nodded, turning to follow her down the hall. Paint fumes wafted out as Christy-Lynn threw open the door to the spare room. Wade stepped inside, pivoting in a slow circle.
“It’s . . . pink.”
“Yes.”
She couldn’t help smiling as she surveyed her handiwork, the pink walls and white canopy bed, the delicate rosebuds stenciled in each of the four corners. It had taken her nearly two weeks to finish, far longer than it would have taken Hank, but it had been important that she decorate Iris’s room herself.
He looked at her, clearly stunned. “You said yes?”
“I did.”
“I guess a lot’s changed in two weeks. Did this change of heart have anything to do with seeing your mother?”
Christy-Lynn looked down at her hands, scraping at the specks of pink paint still clinging to her nails. “It had to do with a lot of things, but I think it’s been coming for a while. I started realizing how empty my life has been—and how much I stood to lose if I kept on playing it safe.”
“It’s a big step.”
“Yes,” she said gravely. “It is. But there are worse things than being afraid, like hurting people you care about. And being alone.”
She stood there, waiting for some sign that Wade understood. Instead, he turned away, feigning interest in the wall stenciling. “So . . . when’s the big day?”
“I don’t have an exact date. I had to hire an adoption lawyer to draw up the papers. It’s a little more complicated than setting up a trust, but they should be ready soon. And it took some doing, but I finally convinced Rhetta to move to an assisted-living facility Missy recommended here in town. I told her the only way I’d agree to take Iris was if she came too. I hated to resort to blackmail, but I really want her out of Riddlesville. She’s getting to the point where she’ll need looking after, and at Pine Brook, she’ll have nursing care and still be able to see Iris whenever she wants.”
“No trouble from Ray?”
“None. It seems the good reverend has lost interest in his niece.”
Wade smiled drily. “Surprise. Surprise.”
“I have you to thank for that,” she said softly. “You knew he was going to be trouble.”
“Journalistic instincts,” he said, running a hand over the freshly painted bookshelf near the window. “This is nice. Did you do it?”
Christy-Lynn nodded, beaming just a little. “My first attempt at furniture refinishing. Picking the books was fun too. I loved books when I was a kid. I hope Iris will too.”
Wade reshelved a copy of Green Eggs and Ham and forced a smile. “Well, it looks like it’s all going to work out. I’m happy for you. And for Iris.”
She panicked as he turned to go. He was still so angry, and he had every right to be, but she couldn’t just let him walk out. “I was wondering . . .” The words seemed to stick in her throat. “I was hoping you’d come with me when I go pick up Iris.”
He was scowling when he turned back. “I thought you said Ray had lost interest.”
“It isn’t Ray. It’s . . .” She felt him stiffen when she touched his arm but held on until he had no choice but to look at her. “I don’t want to do this alone, Wade. I know what I said before, about being better off on my own, but I was wrong. I want you in my life.”
Wade’s face went coolly and carefully blank. “I’m not interested in being your wingman anymore, Christy-Lynn. I tried that, and it didn’t end well.”
She dropped her hand from his arm and moved to the window, peering out through the crisp eyelet curtains she had hung last night. She’d been rehearsing this moment for weeks, not sure she’d ever get a chance to say what was in her heart, and now that the moment had finally come, she found herself tongue-tied, on the brink of losing the man who, against all odds, had found his way into her heart. Why couldn’t she just say it? I want you . . . I love you . . .
Wade was still in the doorway, still waiting for some kind of response, though the chill in his gaze told her he wasn’t going to wait much longer. She needed to say something, anything, because if she didn’t, she would never get another chance.
“Do you remember when we talked about what Missy said—about our nevers being the doors we keep closed?”
Wade shrugged, the barest of acknowledgments. He was going to make her work for this, and she supposed after everything that was only fair.
“Anyway, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I realized she was right. Being a mother was one of my nevers because I was afraid I’d get it wrong. But that isn’t the only door I’ve been keeping shut. There were others, like letting myself love someone—and letting myself be loved. And then you came along, and I was so scared that I did get it wrong. But I don’t want to get it wrong anymore. I want to figure out how to get it right—with you.”
He was standing with his arms crossed now, his face still carefully blank. “So that’s it? Just like that, you’re ready to turn over a new leaf?”
Christy-Lynn took a step forward, then checked herself. “It isn’t just like that, Wade. I’ve been thinking about this for a while. You made me think about it. And I know now that it’s what I want, that you’re what I want.” His face became a blur as her eyes filled. She blinked away the tears. “I can’t . . . lose you.”