Chapter 26
Colby sat looking at the fire again, twirling the half glass of wine he held, wondering what it would be like if this were…real. If this was home, if the dogs sprawled in front of the fire were his.
If Ali was his.
The longing that boiled up in him was searing, in more ways than one.
She was, by just being herself, showing him how utterly bankrupt his marriage had been.
Even in the early days, when he’d been caught up in the fantasy, marveling at his luck that the gorgeous, rebellious Liz had wanted him, it hadn’t been like this.
And looking back now, he realized the clues had been there all along, he’d just been too blinded to see them.
It should never have been a surprise that she would be drawn back into the Hollen web, and eventually insist he walk away from the work he loved and join the family cabal.
He wondered how much of her initial attraction to him had been part of that rebellion.
A lot, he suspected, because nothing could offend their sensibilities more than having a lowly carpenter as part of the family.
They’d been a united front from the moment Liz had, as they’d put it, come to her senses and come home.
And it was a front he was not welcome in.
That he’d never wanted to be part of that world removed some of the sting, but not all. And most of what was left was directed inward, at himself for not realizing the obvious much sooner. But then Grace had come, and he’d had no choice but to stick it out as long as he could.
He took a sip of wine, hoping to pull himself out of the useless pondering. Ali had stayed after the Foxworths had left, of her own volition, saving him from making a fool of himself asking her to.
“Funny, isn’t it? Cutter, I mean?” Ali said now, gesturing at the dogs.
He snapped himself out of the last of the painful reflections of the mistake his marriage had been.
“What?”
“I mean how he stayed here, even though his people left. The way he came over and sat by you and just looked at them, like he was saying his job was here.”
“From what they’ve told me, that’s pretty much how it works,” he said, looking at the bigger dog who was lying with one paw thrown protectively over the puppy.
“He certainly is the politest of houseguests,” she said. “And he’s a great puppy sitter, too. I think Ziggy is going to be heartbroken when this is over and he leaves.”
She shifted in her seat to look at him. He wasn’t sure he dared look back at her, not when they were here alone, in front of a warm fire, sipping wine, dogs snoozing at their feet. It was too sweet. Too homey. Too much something he wanted so desperately he couldn’t even put it into words.
“And it will be over, eventually,” she said quietly. “I’ve been doing some more reading, and Foxworth definitely gets things done.”
He steadied himself, staring at the wine left in the glass. “I’m realizing that. They seem to have every aspect covered.”
“So…do you think you could stop worrying quite so much?”
He did look at her then. “I doubt it,” he said wryly.
“Because you’ll always worry about your girl.”
“Always.”
It was a moment before, with a soft smile that did that crazy thing to his gut again, she said, “You remind me of Josh.”
He went very still. He wasn’t at all sure how he felt about the comparison to her late husband. “Is that…a good thing, or a sad thing?”
“A very good thing. If he gave his word, it was golden.”
“I… You must miss him.”
“Every day. But I also know I have to get on with my life. It’s what he would have wanted. And,” she added, “why I moved here.”
His mouth quirked. “And look what that got you into.”
“What it did was give me a chance to help the most nearly perfect child I’ve ever met.
” She smiled, widely. “And Grace is going to be so excited, that something’s actually going to happen.
I get the feeling she’s wanted to fight back for a long time, but was afraid to. Afraid of what her mother would do.”
Colby sighed. “Rightfully so. If she argued with her, or worse, tried to get away, Liz would probably lock her in her room every minute she wasn’t actually in school.”
“I meant,” Ali said softly, “afraid of what her mother would do to you. You’re who she’s protecting.”
He stared at her. “Grace…protecting me?”
“Did you not realize that the love between you flows both ways? She would do anything for you.”
He didn’t know what to say. The thought of his precious girl protecting him, worrying that much about him instead of herself, was nearly overwhelming.
He realized his hand had tightened so much on the stem of the wineglass it was surprising he hadn’t broken it. Not wanting another bloody mess to deal with, he carefully set the glass down on the end table. Oddly, Cutter’s head came up, and he stared at Colby as if he’d sensed something.
“I’m okay, dog,” he said, not even caring if it sounded silly.
“He’s an observant one, isn’t he?” Ali said. “And Colby, I think you’re a lot more than okay. And it’s going to get nothing but better from here on.”
He gave a slow shake of his head. “I don’t know which surprises me more, you or that dog.”
He winced inwardly, wondering if she’d be offended by the comparison. But she wasn’t. No, Ali laughed.
“I’m honored to be put in his company. He’s amazing.”
He should have known. True, he’d only known her a couple of weeks, but he’d never been more certain about anyone. And certain in a deep, rock-solid way he’d never felt with Liz, or anyone else. Josh Moran had indeed been a very lucky man.
He’s dead, you idiot. How does that make him lucky?
That thought sent him meandering off into other territory, specifically a poet and his famous line about it being better to have loved and lost than never loved at all. He wondered if Ali felt that way.
And if her husband had known how lucky he’d been.
“Colby? Are you all right?”
He snapped out of it. “Just…thinking,” he muttered.
“About what?”
“Love,” he said before he thought. “And loss. And if it really is better.”
She looked oddly startled. “Been reading Tennyson?”
“Not lately.” She was staring at him, and he frowned. “What, you’re shocked a carpenter can even read, let alone poetry?”
She pulled back sharply, then jumped to her feet. She started to walk away, but just as quickly Cutter was there, blocking her path. Her escape?
“Ali, don’t,” he said, getting up nearly as quickly as she had. “That was…reflex.”
“You mean all those lovely hardcover books in the library in Liz’s house weren’t yours?” she asked, a little too sweetly.
He couldn’t help it, he snorted at that. “For her, books are wall decor. She used to get really irritated if I actually took one off a shelf and opened it.”
The tension in her expression seemed to fade away. “No wonder she didn’t like my house, the one time she came inside. To inspect, I’m guessing.”
He remembered the cozy little house, and how much he’d liked it, not just the floor plan and the quality of the build, but the atmosphere it already held, even after the short time she’d lived there.
And he remembered the books. One of the first things he’d noticed when he’d stepped inside that day that seemed like both yesterday and a lifetime ago. All looking both read and cared for.
“She finds reading a waste of time,” he said. “But she knows many of the people she deals with value it, so she pretends with all those volumes she’s never touched, let alone opened.”
“So we add total hypocrisy to the list,” Ali said.
He grimaced. “It’s a long list.” He drew in a deep breath, and said what he knew he had to. “I didn’t mean what I said. It really was just a reflex. Something I would have said…to her. I should never have said it to you. And I’m really sorry I did.”
Ali looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.
“Apology accepted. I think sometimes when a sore spot gets poked often enough, it gets to where it doesn’t matter who does the poking, or even if it’s really a poke at all.
We just…react. And I reacted the way I did because I’d been thinking about that same poetic line just a while ago. ”
He couldn’t stop himself, he crossed the short distance between them and pulled her to him. Hugged her, and tightened it when he felt her head come down to rest on his shoulder. He could feel the slight tug from that not-quite-healed spot on his arm, but he ignored it.
Because nothing was worth letting go of her.
And for a moment, just a moment, he let himself think of a life after this, and Ali being a part of it. He quashed the thought. There was too much to get through first, and he had to stay focused.
But for now, until she had to leave, he held her.