She remembered seeing him at Nicole’s, the embarrassment she’d felt at his being in town and not coming to see her. Her face flushed at the memory.
“Well, his loss.” Monique patted her hand. “Oh! Are you expecting a delivery?” she asked, her gaze focused out the window over the parking lot.
“No. Why?”
“There’s a gentleman walking up the path toward our units with a large wrapped package. It looks like a painting.”
Macy rose and walked to the window over the sink. She looked out and gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Monique asked, coming up behind her.
“Not wrong, very very right,” Macy said, her stomach suddenly in nervous knots. “That’s him,” she whispered.
“Ah,” Monique said, her voice lifting in understanding. “You should go, then.”
Macy turned to her and pulled her into a warm embrace. “Thanks for understanding.”
She ran for the door, making it to the outside walkway just as Tyler reached up and rang her doorbell. “Looking for me?” she asked, breathless and not from the short sprint into the hall.
He turned, leveling those green eyes her way. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi yourself. What are you doing here?” She rocked on her feet, nervous and happy at the same time.
He rested the package wrapped in brown paper against the wall.
She took a minute to drink him in. His sandy brown hair was combed and lightly gelled; he was clean shaven and wore a pair of tan slacks and a light blue short-sleeved collared shirt. Typical Tyler; he looked every inch the groomed and well-styled man she’d fallen hard for. The only thing different was the nervous glint in his eyes and the uncertain expression on his handsome face.
“You said not to come back until I was free of everything.”
Clasping her hands behind her back, she merely nodded, waiting.
She wouldn’t have thought she’d want a man to beg for her, but after the way he’d taken off after Nicole, leaving her alone at the art show, she realized she needed him to wonder where she stood. To work to prove himself to her. For her.
What she wouldn’t tell him was that he’d won her over by showing up with whatever was beneath the wrapping. She had a hunch she already knew—which meant despite running after Nicole, he’d paid attention to her.
“Well, I am. Free of Nicole, my past, the family business and expectations . . . all of it.”
As he spoke, her heart lightened . . . a lot. So much that she knew that at this moment, her life just might be doing a one-eighty.
He drew a deep breath. “And so I’m here. Bearing gifts.” He grinned. “Or should I say a gift?”
Tyler looked into her bright blue eyes and waited . . . waited . . . and then she gave it to him.
She returned his smile with the first open, honest one he’d seen. “Come on in,” she said.
He followed her into her home for the first time. He took in the wild splash of colors, vibrant and alive, and laughed. “This place suits you.”
“Yeah? You don’t think it’s . . . gaudy?”
She folded her arms across her chest, a defensive gesture he couldn’t mistake. “Umm, no. If I thought it was gaudy, I wouldn’t have said it suits you.” He stepped closer and grasped her shoulders. “You, Macy Donovan, are not gaudy. You’re outspoken, honest, you don’t take crap from anyone, and you’re real. Added to that, you’re beautiful. You were it for me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Her eyes opened wide. “But you were still chasing after Nicole then.”
He wanted to forget all about Nicole. Hell, he already had. She was his friend, nothing more, but he owed it to Macy to explain.
“I think I told you before . . . Nicole and I were always good friends. When I look back now, I believed we were doing the right thing by getting married. Making everyone happy.”
“Were you? Happy?” she asked.