She's Like The Wind (Angel Sands 2)
He shrugged. “Push the boat out, be a devil.”
She tipped her head to the side. “Is it a business dinner or a date?” she asked him. The way he was looking at her took her breath away.
“Does it matter?”
“It does to me.”
He pulled the laptop screen down so she could see his whole face, his eyes sparkling. “I’m hoping it’s both,” he told her. “That we can get the business done really quickly. After that, as far as I’m concerned it’s all date.”
It took a lot of effort not to smile. She was a strong woman, she shouldn’t let him back into her life too easily. And yet the pull toward him felt as strong as ever.
Stronger maybe.
“Okay,” she said, nodding slowly. “You can pick me up at seven.”
He had no compunction about smiling. In fact, he was grinning ear-to-ear. “It’s a date,” he said, nodding at her
“Almost,” she reminded him, unable to keep her face straight any longer. “It’s partially a date.”
32
“We’re eating at the coffee shop?” Ally blinked, bemused, as she looked at the darkened café, turning to Nate to give him a questioning stare.
He shrugged and grabbed the keys from his pocket. “I figured we’d have more privacy here.”
“It’s the perfect place for a business meeting,” Ally agreed, her voice teasing. Nate grinned and shook his head, opening the door and flicking on the lights. He gestured for her to walk in first.
He’d cleared all the tables and chairs away, leaving only one in the middle of the room. It was covered with a crisp white tablecloth and all laid up for dinner.
That wasn’t the only thing that had changed either. There was new artwork – huge black and white canvases fixed to the dark blue walls.
It took her a moment to realize they weren’t just random photographs. They were her photos, or her dad’s anyway. Each canvas depicted a different time of her life. There was the one with her parents holding her as a baby, both of them proud as punch as they stood outside the café, the sun shining down on them all. Then there was an elementary school Ally – maybe seven or eight years old, deep in concentration as her dad taught her how to pour the coffee.
She felt her throat thicken as she took them all in. Her eyes fell onto the final one – of Ally standing behind the counter of Déjà Brew, laughing at somebody to the left of her. She had no idea that photograph even existed.
“Do you like them?” Nate’s voice was soft.
Ally turned to him and nodded, her chest too full of emotion to be able to put how she felt into words. “There’s a blank space,” she said, her voice thick. “What’s going there?”
“I don’t know.” He was eyeing her carefully, as though he was trying to gauge her emotions. “I guess that’s up to you.”
“Me?”
He nodded. “I want to take a photo of the café as it is now. But I want you in it.”
“But I resigned.”
“I know. And I want you back.” He gave her the ghost of a smile. “I want a photograph of you, me and, Riley, all standing behind the counter. I want us to be as happy as you were in the last photograph.”
She took a ragged breath in. “Nate…”
“You don’t have to say anything now. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” He walked over to the counter and opened the lid of a white insulated box. Inside were two containers. He carefully decanted their contents onto two white plates. Grabbing a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, he filled two glasses up, carrying the food and drink over to the table.
“Please sit down.” He gestured to her. Ally slowly lowered herself into the seat and allowed him to take her crutches, resting them against the door.
She picked up the glass Nate had placed in front of her, taking a sip of the crisp white wine. She couldn’t help but look at the photographs again, couldn’t help but feel the connection to this place.
And to him.