Lone Star Holiday Proposal

“Oh, but I said you didn’t need—” Raina began to protest.

“Need doesn’t enter into it when ice cream is concerned,” Nolan interrupted her smoothly. “What do you say, JJ? Do you want a junior sundae?”

“Wif sprinkles?”

“Sure, my treat.” He looked across at Raina. “How about you? Do you want a sundae with sprinkles, too?”

JJ laughed next to him. “Mommy doesn’t have treats, she’s a mommy!”

Nolan read the subtext in JJ’s words. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Raina went without so that her son could have little treats every now and then. How much had she foregone to ensure her son could still enjoy special things while she rebuilt her business and kept a roof over their heads? Again that urge to protect swirled at the back of his mind.

“Even mommies like treats sometimes, don’t they?” he asked, looking straight across the table at Raina.

“Not tonight, thank you. I need to get back to Priceless. My first class starts this evening and I can’t be late, not even for a treat.”

“Another time then,” Nolan promised, and as he called the waitress to order JJ’s sundae, he found himself wondering just how soon that might be.

Three

Another time? Did he mean to ask her out on a date? Raina wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. She hadn’t dated since Jeb—hadn’t even been interested in dating as she came to grips with his betrayal, single parenthood and running a business. It had been a painful irony that she’d been duped by the person she’d thought would stand by her, exactly as her father had been.

She had never known her mother and pictures of her had been few and of poor quality. Raina’s enduring memory of the woman who’d borne her was the story of how she’d come home from the hospital with Raina, put her in her bassinet and gone out to buy some milk and never returned. Growing up, Raina had always had more questions about the whole situation than answers and, in retrospect, she could understand why she’d been drawn to the losers.

Despite all the security and love her father had poured into her, Raina’s sense of self-worth had been low. She’d found herself desperate to be accepted by others, only to be walked all over again and again. Jeb had been the last in a string of disastrous relationships, and when he’d cleaned out her bank account while she was in labor with his son, she’d finally learned her lesson—and with it, who she was and where she belonged in her world. Now, she was at peace with her decision to focus her energies on JJ and provide a home for them. She finally, at the sage old age of thirty, felt grown up.

Her friends still teased her about her dating moratorium but she’d avoided all potential setups they’d thrown her way. And in the aftermath of the tornado, it had made far better sense not to get involved with anyone. Life had become incredibly precious and despite her need to nurture and to try to “fix” broken souls, aka the losers she’d dated previously, she’d had to draw a line somewhere.

But a date with Nolan Dane? He was nothing like the guys she’d been out with before. He owned a suit, for a start, and showed the kind of manners her father had always told her to expect from a man.

She looked across the table and noticed that JJ had made short work of his sundae and was now rubbing his eyes and fidgeting in his booster seat. She glanced at her watch—a 1920s timepiece she hadn’t been able to bring herself to sell after she’d discovered it in a boxed lot she’d bought at an estate sale a couple of years ago. If she didn’t get on her way soon, she’d be running late for the sitter and for her class.

“This has been lovely,” she said, gathering her bag and searching for her wallet. “But JJ and I really must get going. Thank you for joining us.”

“No, thank you for your company. Please, let me get this. It’s the least I can do for crashing your dinner together.”

“Oh, but—”

“Please, I appreciated having someone to talk to over my meal.”

Before she could say anything, Nolan left several bills on the tabletop, including a generous tip, and helped JJ from the booth.

“Are you parked far away?” he asked as they walked toward the exit.

“No, not far. A block.”

“Let me walk you,” Nolan said, falling into step beside her on the sidewalk outside the diner.