Why Not Tonight Page 6

  “You’re on.” He rose. “What’s the wager?”

  As he spoke, she would have sworn that his gaze dropped to her mouth. She felt heat and a sensation that was almost a kiss. Then he returned his attention to her eyes and she wasn’t sure it had happened at all. Real or wishful thinking?

  “You don’t want to bet with me, Ronan,” she said, hoping her voice sounded playful instead of needy.

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “In the words of Yoda, you will be.” She grinned. “How about this? We each do a practice flight, and then if you still want to bet, we will.”

  “Done.”

  He followed her upstairs to the turret. She’d put out paper, scissors and a couple of rulers to flatten the edges. They each sat at the long table and started to work. In a matter of minutes, he’d completed a traditional paper airplane. It took her a few seconds more to complete her gliding plane. The more snub-nosed design was reinforced with additional folds that would withstand the updraft from the furnace vents.

  Ronan looked from her plane to his sleek design. “You think that’s going to win?”

  They walked to the landing. She smiled.

  “In this confined space, winning is about staying aloft longer. Your plane is built for distance. It’s going to soar out perfectly fine and then pretty much plummet. Mine is going to stay up in the clouds for hours.”

  Ronan’s eyes brightened with humor. “You’re a ringer, aren’t you? Instead of hustling for money at a pool table, you use paper airplanes. I’ve been had.”

  She tried not to look smug. “And you were so sure you’d win. Come on, Mr. Bossy Pants. Let’s see what you’ve got under the hood.”

  Ronan turned and sent his plane soaring off the landing. As she’d predicted, it made its way across the foyer with great speed and grace. He threw it hard enough that it actually hit the opposite wall and then tumbled to the floor two stories below.

  “Well, damn,” he muttered. “You were right.”

  “I know. Isn’t it great?”

  She put out her arm and felt for the warm updraft from the air below, then aimed her stubby plane at the ceiling. It took off, looped once, then kept flying as it was slowly, slowly, oh so slowly, taken down by gravity.

  “I want to learn how to do that,” he said the second her plane touched the floor. “What other kinds of planes do you know how to make?”

  They spent the next hour folding paper planes. She showed him a half dozen designs and they practiced with all of them. When the foyer was littered with their efforts, they went downstairs for hot cocoa. While Ronan heated the milk, Natalie pulled a bag of marshmallows out of the pantry.

  “I found these earlier,” she said, waving the bag. “I’m superexcited.”

  “About marshmallows?”

  “Duh. Of course. Aren’t you?”

  He studied her for a second before he smiled. “I am. Now tell me how you learned to fly airplanes so well.”

  She settled on a stool at the island. “There weren’t any girls on the street where I grew up. Just boys. It was fine when I was little, but by the time I was seven, they didn’t want me tagging along. Whenever I convinced them to play with me, it was sports and they always beat me. I got tired of being humiliated. My mom was the one who came up with the idea of paper airplanes. I was already doing origami, so it was an easy transition.”

  She grinned at the memory. “They were woefully unprepared to be beaten by a girl and they didn’t take it well. After about a dozen rematches, they stopped trying to beat me and I was still shut out.”

  “That must have hurt.”

  “It did, but then a couple of girls moved in, so I cared less. Plus anytime the boys tried to tease me, I reminded them they’d been beaten by a girl and they wilted.”

  “You’re scrappy.”

  “I try.”

  He stirred the cocoa into the pan. The smell of chocolate filled the kitchen and her mouth began to water.

  “I’m drinking up your supply,” she said. “I should order you more.” Although she had no idea how much it would cost to buy a tin of cocoa from the former East Berlin. There went her meat budget for the month.

  “I already have.” He poured the mixture into mugs, then handed her one. “It’s nicer when it’s shared.”

  “Thank you.”

  She looked up and saw he was watching her. For a second, their gazes tangled and refused to separate. She found herself leaning toward him, as if... As if...

  He turned away and put down the pan, then passed her the bag of marshmallows. She took two and dropped them into her cocoa all the while telling herself not to be silly. Whatever she was feeling was obviously one-sided. Ronan wouldn’t be interested in her that way. He was worldly and famous and rich. She was just a girl who couldn’t find someone to love her and who tore up bits of paper and called it art. He was the real artist. Speaking of which...

  “How did work go today?” she asked.

  The energy in the room changed immediately. Ronan’s face tightened. She had a feeling that if he hadn’t already been sitting next to her at the island, he would have turned and walked out. She wondered if he still would.

  For more than a minute, there was silence. Natalie told herself to keep quiet, to let him talk, but in the end, she couldn’t help blurting, “Do you know why you’re not working?”

  He looked from his drink to her and back. “I take it you have a theory.”

  “I do. Several, in fact, but the one I like the best is that you can’t work because you’ve closed your heart to your family. You’re like Elsa in the movie Frozen. You have to believe in love again.”

  He turned toward her, his expression disbelieving. “Like Elsa?”

  “In Frozen, yes. Have you seen it?”

  “I know the song.”

  She smiled. “Isn’t it great? And I love the movie. You should watch it sometime. You’ll see what I mean. If you would just...”

  She paused, not sure what he should just do. It occurred to her, perhaps a tad late, that there were things about his life she didn’t know.

  “Not that I’m an expert,” she added quietly.

  “What do you know about my past?” he asked. “About my family?”

  He didn’t seem to be challenging her. Rather he wanted to know how much she’d overheard, been told and figured out on her own.

  “I know what your dad did. That he had an affair years ago and you’re the result. I know you thought you and Mathias were fraternal twins and then you found out you weren’t. I know he didn’t tell anyone that you knew, so the two of you had to deal with it by yourself.”

  “That sums it up,” he told her, cupping his mug in both hands and watching the marshmallows melt. “My father is a difficult man. He’s gifted, cruel and selfish. Everything is about him. No one else matters. Not us, not his wife, Elaine—just him.”

  He glanced at her. “As you said, I’m the result. I was born a few weeks after Mathias. For reasons I can’t explain or understand, when my birth mother gave me up, Elaine agreed to raise me as her own son. They told everyone Mathias and I were fraternal twins. That’s how we were raised and what we believed. Elaine never hinted otherwise.”

  He kept saying Elaine. “You mean your mom.”

  His gaze hardened. “She’s not my mother. She’s the woman who raised me.”

  As far as Natalie was concerned, that was the same thing. “Okay,” she said slowly. “So your dad dumped this on you and then you had to deal on your own.” She hated to speak ill of someone she’d met for five seconds a year ago, but the man sounded like a butthead. Yes, he’d thought he was dying from a heart attack when he’d blurted out the truth, but what about after? Why hadn’t he gone back to his sons and explained things better? It made her furious to think about.

  “I’m sorry it happened, but
I’m glad you and Mathias moved here,” she said.

  “I moved here. Mathias decided to come with me. I thought being somewhere else would help and it did for a while. Now, I don’t know.” He angled toward her.

  “Everything is different. I’m not who I thought. I don’t know where I come from. Ceallach is so much worse than you’re imagining. I always thought I had Elaine to offset that. She’s misguided in her devotion to my father, but otherwise a decent person. Now there’s nothing in me but him.”

  “You’ve never met your birth mother?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you want to?”

  “No. She dumped me and ran. I don’t need to meet her to know what she’s like.”

  Natalie touched his arm. “Don’t say that. She was young and scared. You need to find out who she is and why she did what she did. That could change everything.”

  “I know enough.”

  “You’re stubborn. Just like Elsa.”

  One corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re not going to let me wallow in this, are you?”

  “I’m not going to stop you. I enjoy a good wallow as much as the next person. I’d just like to point out that, so far, it hasn’t helped very much. You should talk to someone.”

  He drew back. “Like who?”

  “You know, to a therapist. Someone who could give you perspective and help you brainstorm ways to handle this. You’re too brilliant not to be working. I’m guessing you don’t really need the money, but that’s not what’s important. Creating is who you are. Without that, I’m not sure you can be happy. I know I couldn’t be and I’m nowhere near as talented. You need to learn to open your heart, Ronan. Or you’re going to be trapped in your emotional ice kingdom forever.”

  He groaned. “That’s another Frozen reference, isn’t it?”

  She smiled. “Admit it. You find me totally charming.”

  Figuring she’d pushed her luck about as far as she could, she lightly kissed his cheek, then rose and reached for her mug.

  “Night, Ronan.”

  He watched her go without speaking. When she reached the doorway, she turned back and he was still looking at her. For a second she hoped he would come after her, take her in his arms and give her a hearty kissing. Or maybe more. Instead he didn’t say anything and she was left with the uncomfortable sensation of wanting someone who probably didn’t see her that way at all.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  DESPITE HIS CONVERSATION with Natalie, Ronan slept well. Maybe it was getting things off his chest. He never talked about his situation anymore. He used to discuss it with Mathias, but lately they only spoke about work.

  He woke up early and, after making coffee, went into his studio, where he studied what he’d done on his commission. He couldn’t work on it without help. Glass was a demanding mistress and creating the hundreds of pieces that would make up the final work required many hands.

  He had interns and a few assistants scheduled, but with the weather, they couldn’t get up the mountain and he couldn’t get to town. A few days ago, he would have welcomed the excuse. Now he felt stirrings of energy about the project.

  He walked around his studio, remembering how excited he’d been when the space was first completed. He’d had so many plans for what he and Mathias could do here. Because it had always been the two of them. Elaine had often talked about how they’d shared a crib until they were toddlers. At the time, he and his brother had assumed that story was about their unbreakable bond. After Ceallach had told them the truth, they’d realized they’d shared a crib because Elaine hadn’t been prepared for a second infant and she’d had to make do.

  Still, knowing the truth hadn’t shaken the memories of all the times he and his brother had worked together as a single unit, and damn it all to hell, he missed that. He didn’t want to, but he did. He missed having Mathias around. He missed knowing what he was thinking without having to ask. He missed their connection.

  That bond had been severed with a few words. Ronan hadn’t seen that at first. He’d been stunned by their father’s revelation. He and his brother had left the hospital and walked around town for over an hour until they could finally speak. Only there hadn’t been anything to say.

  After a few weeks, Ronan had decided he had to leave Fool’s Gold. He’d found Happily Inc and had made plans to relocate. When Mathias had found out, he’d said he was coming with him. And he had.

  Ronan had thought being here, together, would make everything right. Only it hadn’t. They were slipping farther and farther away from what they had once been. Sure, some of that was them growing up. Mathias was married now. But they weren’t close anymore and Ronan knew he missed that.

  The problem was he also didn’t know how to get it back.

  He put down his coffee and studied the disastrous faux origami piece he’d made the day before. He saw now what had gone wrong and decided to try again. He wanted to make it right so he could give it to Natalie. He had no idea why. She was—

  He put on a thick apron and goggles and reached for a rod. It was one thing to lie to other people, but he should at least tell himself the truth. He wanted to impress her. Just like some sixteen-year-old dreaming of scoring the winning touchdown, he wanted to get the attention of the girl.

  He smiled at the realization. It had been a long time since he’d been interested in a woman. He wouldn’t have guessed she would be the one to light that spark, but she had and now the flame burned hot and bright.

  Not that he would do anything about it. She was his guest and his responsibility. While she was trapped in his house, she needed to feel completely safe around him and not have to worry about him making a move. Still, a man could dream.

  As he collected the material to begin his glass piece, he thought about what they’d talked about last night. How his father had once again produced drama. Yes, the situation was complicated and there was no good way to tell your son he wasn’t who he thought, but as always, Ceallach had picked the worst possible way.

  Ronan pushed thoughts of his family and his growing need for Natalie from his mind and began to work. He’d come up with some ideas for making his piece look more like what she’d made—with the lines and angles.

  Hours later, he had a series of small dragons. They were bigger than hers. The first three were crap but the last one was close. Damned close.

  He held up the small glass dragon. Light flowed through the various thicknesses, creating the illusions of different shades of green. He hadn’t done a good job with the scales, but he would do better next time.

  He walked back in the house. As he passed through the long glass-lined hallway, he was surprised to see the shift in the light, now that the storm had passed. There was blue sky and, according to the thermometer hanging just outside the window, temperatures were climbing back to the normal summer sizzle. He’d been in the studio much longer than he’d thought.

  He walked into the kitchen and found Natalie sitting in her usual seat at the island. She had piled her long, curly hair on top of her head and wore a different sweatshirt over the sweatpants. The second she saw him, she smiled.

  “You’ve been working,” she said happily.

  He held the small dragon down by his thigh so she couldn’t see it. “How do you know?”

  “You look content and a little smug. It’s your work face.”

  “I have a work face?”

  “Who doesn’t? Mine is a little more bemused, but then, I’m not the great Ronan Mitchell.”

  “I’m not him, either.”

  “One of us has to be and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t convince anyone.” She pointed to the window. “It’s sunny. I spoke to the county road crew supervisor, who is a very nice man, by the way. He said the main roads will be cleared by the end of the day and that he’ll make sure your road is passable first thing tomorrow. You’ll be abl
e to take me to town by midmorning and be rid of me.”

  He didn’t expect the sense of being kicked in the gut. “You must be happy,” he said. “Back to your own place.”

  She hesitated just a second before answering. “I am, of course. Just like you’re thrilled to have your place all to yourself. Not that you haven’t been the perfect host. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.”

  “Thank you.” He put the glass dragon on the island. “You’ve been an exemplary guest.”

  Her eyes widened as she picked up the tiny glass creature and set it on her palm. “Oh, Ronan, he’s wonderful.” She raised her gaze to his. “How did you get the folds in the glass?”

  “It’s not easy. I’ve been failing for two days. I still have to work on the scales, but he’s getting there.”

  “I love him. Thank you.” She smiled. “I finally have a Ronan Mitchell original.”

  Right—because she couldn’t afford any of his regular pieces. He wasn’t sure if she was teasing or not because if she really did want something he’d made—a real piece of art—she was welcome to any in his storage room. He started to say that, then realized the offer could easily come out wrong.

  “I’m glad you’re happy.”

  “I am. Very.”

  The polite response, he told himself. She was saying what you were supposed to say—nothing more. Yet he couldn’t help wishing she was telling the truth about spending time with him.

  * * *

  NATALIE SEARCHED THROUGH the drawers in the turret art studio. There were so many supplies stored so haphazardly that she was never sure where she’d seen what she was looking for. Ronan kept his work space organized, so she wasn’t sure why the turret was such controlled chaos. She wondered if he’d simply ordered every art supply he could think of, then had randomly stored them without giving them a second thought.

  Not that she minded the search. As she opened cupboards and drawers, she found iridescent discs she could use, along with some black glitter. Her time with Ronan had a distinct dragon theme, one she was continuing with her piece.