01_The Best Gift (10 page)

Slowly A.J. turned back to Blake. “All right. Thank you.”

Though Blake’s casual stance didn’t change, she could sense his relief in the subtle relaxing of his face muscles and the merest easing in his shoulders.

“Good. I’ll go clean off the car. Give me five minutes.”

By the time A.J. stepped out of the rear door of the shop, Blake was just putting away his ice scraper. He looked up when the light spilled from the doorway.

“Wait there,” he called. “It’s really slippery.”

A.J. did as he asked. The last thing she needed was to ignore his advice and fall flat on her face. Besides, now that the ache in her hip had subsided, she didn’t want to do anything that might bring it back.

Blake joined her moments later, completely covered with snow. The storm seemed to intensify with every minute that passed. “Take my arm and hold on. This lot is like a skating rink.”

Again she didn’t argue. Slowly they made their way to his car, and even before they were halfway there, A.J. knew she had made a wise decision in accepting his offer. She could barely walk on the slippery surface, and driving would be a nightmare. Just riding in a car would be bad enough.

Blake helped her into the passenger seat, then came around to his side and brushed himself off before sliding behind the wheel. He looked over at A.J. Snowflakes still clung to her strawberry blond curls, and he smiled. “You look like you have stars in your hair,” he said.

She tried to smile. “Better than in my eyes, I suppose.”

He focused on those green eyes for a moment. No stars there. Instead he saw fear. He watched as she swallowed convulsively, then nervously brushed back a stray strand of hair with shaking fingers. She was absolutely terrified, he realized with a start. Not just a little nervous about driving in bad weather. But terrified. This time he followed his instincts. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Hey, it will be okay. I’ll get you home safely,” he said gently.

For a moment she seemed surprised by his action. But she didn’t pull away. Again, she valiantly tried to smile. And failed. “I just don’t like driving in snow,” she said.

There was more to her terror than that. He wanted to ask what it was, but didn’t. This wasn’t the time. “Just relax. You’ll be home before you know it.”

But he was wrong. It took them ten minutes just to go six blocks, slipping and sliding the whole way. It was so bad that even Blake, who never minded driving in bad weather, was getting worried. When they skidded dangerously close to a parked car as he maneuvered one corner, he pulled to the side and turned to A.J. She hadn’t said one word since they’d left, and he’d been so busy trying to navigate that he hadn’t looked at her. But now he realized that she had a death grip on the dashboard, and in the light from the street lamp he could see that the color had drained from her face.

“This isn’t looking good, A.J.” When she didn’t respond, he reached over and laid a hand on her arm. He could feel the tremors running through her body. “A.J.?”

With an effort she tore her gaze away from the street and stared at him, her eyes wide. “Wh-what?”

“I said this isn’t looking good.”

“I kn-know.” The catch in her voice spoke eloquently of her fear.

“Look, I don’t think we should try to make it to your apartment. I have a guest room, and I’m only half a mile from here. Would you consider staying there tonight?”

“At your place? You mean…just us?”

“I’ll sleep next door. My elderly neighbors are on a cruise and they gave me a key to their house.”

“I don’t want to put you out of your own home.”

“It’s not a problem, A.J. They have a huge couch in the family room. I’ll be fine for one night.”

She took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. Hang in there. It shouldn’t take us long to get to my place.”

By the time Blake pulled into his attached garage twenty minutes later, even he was tense. He’d driven in some pretty bad weather, but the icy conditions he’d just encountered ranked right up there with a raging blizzard he, Dave and Jack had once encountered on a drive back to the Denver airport from one of their annual ski trips.

“Sit tight. I’ll get your door,” he told A.J.

A moment later, he pulled it open. When she didn’t move, he leaned down. “A.J.?”

She was still staring straight ahead, gripping the dashboard, and he could tell that a single tear had slipped from her eye and left a trail halfway down her cheek. He leaned in and gently touched her shoulder. “It’s okay. We’re home. Everything’s fine,” he said soothingly. “Come on, I’ll help you out.”

Automatically she swung her legs out of the car. When she faced him her eyes were slightly glazed and she seemed almost to be in shock. He took her hands and urged her out of the car, shutting the door with his hip. And then, for the second time that night, he followed his instincts and pulled her into his arms.

A.J. didn’t protest. In fact, she went willingly, letting him wrap his arms around her and hold her close. She laid her head on his shoulder, and her own arms went around him. He could feel her trembling, and he stroked her back with one hand, letting the other move up to cradle her head.

“Everything’s okay. You’re safe,” he murmured softly near her ear.

A.J. knew she should step out of Blake’s embrace. Knew that her acquiescence was completely out of character and that he would eventually want an explanation. But she couldn’t help herself. As she’d stared out the window of the car on the drive to his house, watching the snowflakes beat against the glass, her nightmarish memories had replayed themselves in her mind for the second time in a couple of weeks. Once again, their vividness had taken her breath away. Even now her heart was pounding and her breathing was erratic. She needed something solid and sure to cling to. Namely, Blake. In his arms, she felt safe and protected. It was an illusion, of course. She knew that. But it felt good. And for just a moment, she let herself pretend that it was true.

A.J. wasn’t sure how long she remained in Blake’s embrace. But finally, when her trembling subsided, she took a long, shuddering breath and made a move to disengage. He let her step back, but continued to hold her upper arms as he searched her face in the dim light of the garage. She was still pale, and the freckles across the bridge of her nose were more pronounced than usual.

“A.J.?”

“I—I’m okay, Blake. Sorry about this. Storms freak me out.”

There was a brief hesitation before he spoke. “Okay. Let’s get inside where it’s warm.”

He kept his arm protectively on the small of her back as he fitted the key in the lock. When the door swung open, he ushered her into a small mud room.

“Let me take your coat.”

He helped her take it off, then shrugged out of his own and hung both on hooks. “I’ll show you the guest room and let you settle in while I get a fire going.”

He led the way through a cozy kitchen/breakfast room combo, across a small entry foyer and down a hall to a door near the end.

“This is really part office, part den,” he apologized as they stepped into the room. It was furnished with a modular desk and computer, and a couch stood against one wall. “The sofa is a sleeper. It’s not the most comfortable bed around, but it works pretty well for emergencies.”

“This will be fine for one night, Blake.”

When he spoke, it was almost like he hadn’t heard her. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you take my room tonight? It has a real bed, and it would be better than…”

“I’m perfectly fine with the sofa sleeper,” she interrupted.

He could tell from the stubborn tilt of her chin that arguing wasn’t going to get him anywhere. So he decided to save his persuasive powers for other discussions. Like finding out why she was so terrified of snowstorms. And why she sometimes limped.

“Okay.” He walked over to the sofa, quickly dispensed with the cushions, and in one lithe movement pulled the bed open. “There are blankets in the closet in here,” he said, nodding toward the other side of the room. “And I have extra sheets in the hall closet.”

She followed him into the hall, reaching for the bedding as he withdrew it. “I can handle this. I’d rather you spend your time getting that fire going,” she said.

He handed them over without resistance. “The bathroom’s right across the hall,” he told her, nodding toward an adjacent doorway. “There are fresh towels under the sink. There’s also an extra toothbrush under there.”

She gave him a small smile. “I see you’re always prepared for guests.”

He looked at her, and paused for a moment as if debating his next words. “No one’s ever spent the night here before,” he told her quietly.

Her grin faded. A.J. had been joking. Blake wasn’t. He was telling her in no uncertain terms that he didn’t have overnight guests. And that he didn’t believe in casual intimacy.

A.J. had no idea how to respond to this revelation. So she didn’t. “Well, I—I guess I’ll go make up the bed,” she stammered.

And before he could respond, she headed for the den.

Blake watched her go. Now why had he told her that? The statement had been true enough. He didn’t believe in one-night stands or living together. When he met the right woman, he would make a commitment to her. Publicly. Formally. That was the only way intimacy had any meaning. And for some reason he’d wanted A.J. to know that. He wasn’t sure why. But tonight wasn’t the time to figure it out. Not when he had a fire to make and a dinner to prepare.

As A.J. made the bed and freshened up, she thought about Blake’s comment. It was something you might say to a woman you were interested in having a relationship with. But they were just business partners. Maybe her receptiveness to his embrace in the garage had prompted the disclosure. But there had been nothing intimate in his touch. She had felt only caring and comfort and friendship. So she didn’t think that was why he’d said it. There was something more. But tonight wasn’t the time to figure it out. Her nerves were already shot from the drive here. They couldn’t take much more.

She opened the closet and spotted the blankets. But her attention was diverted by trophies that shared space on the same shelf. Curiously, she stood on tiptoe to read the inscriptions. There were several for running and biking events, and even one for a very good finish in a triathlon. All were of fairly recent vintage. She stared at them, impressed. She’d known Blake was in good shape, known that he was a runner and cyclist. Nancy had mentioned it. But she’d thought his interest was purely recreational. She’d had no idea he was competitive in either sport. Or that he was a swimmer.

Thoughtfully she withdrew a blanket, and as she turned back toward the sofa she noticed a couple of framed certificates near the desk. On impulse, she moved closer to examine them. One was an acknowledgment of Blake’s work with a local homeless shelter. The other recognized his contributions as a board member to the Big Brothers organization. Her glance fell on the three-month calendar under a clear mat on his desk, and her gaze was drawn to the Saturday she’d been so ill, when he’d refused to sub for her at the shop. There were meetings listed for both organizations.

A.J. took a deep breath. She’d learned more about Blake in the past few minutes than she had since they’d met. In the garage, she’d learned just how caring and compassionate he was. She’d learned he had strong moral principles when it came to relationships. That he was a superb and disciplined athlete. And that he believed in helping those less fortunate. His choice of organizations to support was also clearly a reflection of his own upbringing.

When they’d met, A.J. had written Blake off as a stuffy, inflexible, stick-in-the-mud loner. But as she was beginning to discover, there was a whole lot more to this complex man than met the eye. He might not be the most spontaneous guy in the world, but there were some very good reasons for that. And he was able to bend when necessary. His willingness to step in and speak in her place at the Board of Aldermen meeting was clear evidence of that. And also of his kindness and compassion. She knew he hated confrontation and anything that reeked of protest. But he’d put himself front and center in that situation anyway. For her, and for their cause. And she deeply admired—and respected—him for that.

As A.J. thoughtfully made her way to the kitchen, she peeked into a darkened room as she passed. It was empty except for a weight set and a racing bike. More evidence of his training regime. He skied, too. It was telling that all of his sports were solitary, she reflected.

When she got to the kitchen, she found him chopping onions. “What can I do to help?”

He turned toward her. Her face had more color now and the tension had eased. “Why don’t you just go in and enjoy the fire?” he said with a relieved smile.

“I’d like to help.”

“I think I have everything under control. But I’m not doing anything as exotic as the meal you made. Just meat loaf and mashed potatoes. I hope that’s okay.”

“I eat normal food, too,” she teased. “If you have some fresh vegetables, I could make a stir-fry. And I could probably put together a salad if you have some lettuce.”

He nodded toward the refrigerator. “Help yourself to anything you can find.”

A.J. peered into the refrigerator and rummaged around a bit. “There’s plenty of stuff here for both,” she said, her voice slightly muffled. She began withdrawing items and set them on the counter beside Blake. “Where are your spices?”

He reached past her and pulled open a cabinet, his rolled-up sleeve brushing her face. She couldn’t help but notice the sprinkling of dark hair on his forearm. Or the subtle masculine scent that invaded her nostrils. Her pulse suddenly tripped into double time, and she drew a sharp breath.

Blake looked at her. “Are you okay?”

She forced herself to nod, but that was a lie. She hadn’t had such a visceral reaction to a man since Eric. And she’d forgotten how to deal with it. So she focused her attention on the spice rack. “Do you have a paring knife?” she asked when she could finally speak.

He rinsed off the one he’d been using and handed it to her. “Ask and you shall receive.”