Here With You (22 page)

Nicole nodded. "Good to know. Thanks. And your new single is awesome."

She hung up.

The entire café roared in protest.

Nicole stood up and blew a kiss to the crowd and motioned to Eve to turn the radio
off. "Thank you for the support, everyone," she said and then sat back down. She put
a hand to her chest, afraid her heart was going to jump out.

Rachel was the first to speak. "You adults are crazy."

Yes, she was crazy, but sometimes you had to take a chance. Or two chances, she thought
as she looked at the papers spread in front of her.

Nicole didn't hear from Grif all night. No phone call. No text. No email.

She opened Romantic Notions early the next morning, because she needed something to
do instead of pacing in her apartment, wondering if he was serious about what he'd
said.

Of course he was serious. She shook her head as she rearranged the sketches she'd
lined up on the counter for the tenth time. Grif never said something he didn't mean.
If he said he wanted to make her happy for the rest of his life, he meant it. When
"forever" started was the thing in debate here.

Sighing in disgust—at herself—she focused on the designs. Valentine had found her
a manufacturer. Once they found a backer, they could begin production. Finding a backer
seemed like an impossible task, but Valentine had assured her it wouldn't take much.

It was overwhelming and scary. She could lose everything.

Except she had nothing to lose. She exhaled and studied her designs. Quickly, she
weeded out the ones that didn't fit with the story she had in mind for her first season's
line: true love.

The door chimed open.

She started to smile as she looked up, but it died on her lips when she saw who stood
in the doorway.

Setting his guitar case next to the door, Grif took his cowboy hat off and crushed
it in his hand. "I've been trying to get here since last night. I had a TV interview
I was committed to, and it went late so I missed the last flight out. And then this
morning my flight was cancelled and the one I was bumped to was delayed."

She swallowed thickly. "Maybe the universe was trying to keep you from coming here."

"No, the universe was testing me to see how badly I wanted this."

"You're here," she said carefully.

"I want this." In his voice, there was more rock-solid certainty than she'd ever heard
from him, and that was saying something. He gazed at her steadily.

"I can't change who I am, Nic. This is what you get, so you've got to be sure you
want it."

"I do. I want it. I want you."

He didn't make a move, as if he didn't believe her.

She'd make him believe her. She moved toward him. "You know how my parents always
told me I could be anything and do anything I wanted? That I just had to find my passion?"

He nodded, putting his hands in his pocket.

"I was so scared I'd pick something as my passion and then find out I didn't love
it. You were right, I bounced from thing to thing, always second-guessing myself.
I was the same with men, because I was never sure any of them were the one I could
give myself to forever."

"Forever is—"

"Unreasonable." She shrugged. "I know, but that's what I want. The man I pick is going
to be forever, because I believe marriage isn't something you play with."

"Nicole," Grif said quietly, "I've loved you forever, and I'll keep loving you."

She walked up to him and put her arms around him. "Even when I'm old and wrinkly?"

"I can't wait till you're old and wrinkly, because it'll mean I've had that many years
to kiss you." He traced her lips. "Your smile will always be mine."

"All of me is yours.
I love you.
" She infused it with as much emotion as she could, knowing that there was no possible
way to convey everything she felt for him. Except...

She reached around her neck, pulled the arrowhead over her head, and slipped it over
his head. It settled over his heart. "Where it belongs," she said.

"Where you belong," he said, catching her up in his arms and kissing her.

All the longing from the time he'd been gone rose to the surface, an unstoppable tide
that had her desperately grappling for more. She touched every part of him, over and
under his clothes, and gasped as his hands greedily moved over her, too.

He picked her up by her haunches, and she gripped his waist with her thighs as he
whirled them around and headed to the dressing room in the back.

"We can't do it here," she protested. Not that it stopped her from undoing his belt.
"I want you in my bed."

Pushing her up against the mirror, he didn't stop kissing her as he spoke. "It was
a challenge make it back here much less your bedroom. Next time."

She clawed his back, under his shirt. "As long as next time is soon."

"Have I mentioned that I love your little skirts?" His hand reached under her plaid
skirt, pushing it up. "But you weren't very considerate wearing tights."

"A real man would do something about it."

He gripped her tights and ripped them from her. "Like that?"

A thrill of excitement raced through her. "You always know what I need."

"I do." He framed her face with his hand, looking directly in her eyes. "I always
will
, Nic
."

And then he slowly pushed into her.

Her head fell back against the mirror. It was tight and wonderful. "I've missed you,"
she said again, fervently.

"Thank goodness you came to your senses." He grinned at her and then began to thrust
back and forth into her, slow and deliberate, keeping her gaze the entire time.

She dug her heels into his haunches, arching herself into him. "I won't be a groupie."

"I don't want a groupie. I want the sweet, sassy girl I fell in love with when I was
twelve."

Her heart melted, and she flung her arms around him. "She's yours."

"Forever," he said, and then he proved it.

Epilogue

One year later...

Dim lighting.

Gauzy curtains.

The fizz of champagne.

The buzz of conversation and laughter.

A deep red runner, sprinkled with white rose petals.

Grounds for Thought was transformed into a romantic bower.

All for her.

Nicole exhaled, trying to blow the huge butterflies out of her belly. This was the
day she'd been working feverishly toward for the past year, and now that it was here
she just wanted to get it over with.

What if she bombed?

What if the critiques called her a hack?

What if people didn't like her designs?

Valentine headed straight to her, a wrathful pixie dressed like June Cleaver. "Drink
this now," she ordered, shoving a glass of champagne into her hand. "And then smile.
You look like you're going to be sick."

"It's a distinct possibility."

Her friend got in her face, so that all she could see was Valentine's big blue eyes.
"You aren't going to be sick. You're going to shine and make us all proud."

"Okay," Nicole said obediently.

"Good." Valentine smoothed her dress and looked around with a satisfied nod.

A flash caught her attention. Nicole turned.

Marley snapped another photo and then lowered her camera. "This is awesome. I can't
believe how this all came together. You'd never guess this is normally a café bookstore.
It looks like everyone put their stamp on it."

They had. As Nicole looked around, she felt a surge of love for the community who'd
pulled together to support her. Eve had donated the location, and Olivia had insisted
on decorating. Julie, from Back to the Fuchsia, arranged all the flowers, making the
space vibrant with life. Eve had talked Daniela Rossi, the world-famous pastry chef,
to bake special little cakes and truffles. Even Lola Carmichael, a local bestselling
romance author, helped by sprinkling fairy dust on the lingerie marketing copy.

The women were all there, too. Eve, Olivia, Lola, and Daniela were chatting with Nicole's
mom, all of them drinking champagne—except Olivia, who was just starting to show with
her second baby. A tall red-haired woman dressed like a gypsy joined them, and they
all laughed.

On the other side of the room, Julie fussed with her flowers last minute, making sure
everything was perfect.

And, of course, Marley and Valentine were with her. Nicole linked her arms through
theirs. "I love you guys, you know that, right?"

"I'm glad you told us, because I've been having doubts," Marley said with her usual
sarcasm. Then she winked and lifted her camera. "I'm going to scope out the best spot
for the show. See you."

Valentine shook her head, following Marley with a fond gaze. "Where did we find her?"

"I don't know, but we were lucky."

Her friend patted her back and then pushed her toward the crowd of reporters. "Breathe.
And circulate. You're a star tonight."

"Yes." Nicole nodded and stepped forward.

A reporter came over and began to ask questions about Nicole's unprecedented show.

It was unorthodox and risky staging it in a neighborhood café. She'd been told that
her first show should be in New York, in the Fall, not Spring in San Francisco. She'd
been told that this "plebian" setting would do nothing to launch her line, and that
if she went ahead with it, she'd be relegated to the small time.

But Nicole started in Laurel Heights. Without the women who'd befriended her, she'd
still be jumping from job-to-job, unsure of what she really wanted. This lingerie
show was to launch her line, but it was also an homage to the community and the women
who'd supported her.

Fortunately, her investor had backed her decision. But Prescott Carrington-Wright
III was a god-among-men. Nicole didn't know why Scott had decided to invest in her
start-up, but she was grateful for him every day.

Scott had assured her the instinct to set the first show in Laurel Heights was a good
one. He'd hired a marketing guru to help spin the event, and the media had picked
up on it. They called it "innovative," "fresh," and "the power of community”—pretty
much everything their marketing consultant had told them it'd be. All the big guns
were there tonight:
Vogue
,
W
,
InStyle
, and
Cosmo
, to name a few.

"I'm going to borrow Nicole for a moment," a deep voice said from behind.

She turned to see Scott. He looked like he always did—powerful and in control. She
bet he intimidated most people, but she'd liked him immediately. "Did you come to
rescue me?"

"No way." He smiled. "You looked in your element. This is all fabulous and completely
beyond what I'd imagined. They're in for a treat tonight."

"It's pretty great, isn't it?" She beamed.

"Better than great." He paused, and then said, "Who's that woman over there?"

She looked to where he pointed. "Julie? She did the flowers."

He nodded, his gaze completely focused on the woman.

Nicole frowned. "Is anything wrong?"

"Not at all." He squeezed her arm. "Excuse me."

She watched him walk over to the florist. Like a deer scenting danger, Julie looked
up as he approached, her body language stiff.

Was something wrong? Nicole started to join them, but then she saw Scott's smile,
predatory, his focus completely on Julie.
Ah
. So it was like
that
.

"What are you grinning about?" Grif said softly, coming up behind her and kissing
her neck.

She hugged the arm that he slipped around her waist. "My money man is making moves
on the florist."

"Good for him." Grif nuzzled her temple. "Maybe he'll get lucky, like us."

She turned into his arms. "No one is as lucky as us."

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show.

Grif kissed her softly. "Go be a star."

"Okay." She felt the familiar flutter of nerves but excitement overrode it. She went
and accepted the microphone from the sound technician and faced everyone. "Thank you
all for joining me tonight for the launch of
Romance, by Nicole
."

She nodded at the sound guy, who kicked off the music: Grif's latest album,
Here with You
, which had gone platinum in the first week of its release.

She held her breath as the first "model" walked out from the back. In keeping with
the community theme, Nicole had wanted to use customers from Romantic Notions to show
off the designs--everyday women of all sizes and shapes, transformed into passionate
dreams.

The next model came out: Rachel.

Nicole smiled. Talk about transforming—the girl had done just that in the past year.
She was lovely, and in the modest babydoll she looked both adorable and stunning.
Her boyfriend Aaron certainly thought so, if his cheering was any indication.

The teenager winked at Nicole and then strutted down the red carpet.

Nicole watched model after model parade through the room, showing off her creations,
and felt so blessed. She clasped her hands to her chest and tried to keep it in.

"Who's that?" Bull asked softly, coming up alongside her.

She glanced at the woman on the red carpet that his gaze was trained on. "Joey? She
lives in the neighborhood. She shops at Romantic Notions."

He growled low and deep in his throat, like he was hungry. If the way he was looking
at Joey was any indication, he was hungry for her. "She looks like my size."

Nicole remembered the red lingerie he'd bought and looked at him, impressed. "She
is, actually."

"I could tell."

Smiling, Nicole patted his arm. "She'll be around after the show."

"I'm gonna make sure of it." He kissed her cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

When the last model strode out wearing white bridal lingerie, the entire room burst
into applause.