Hold on My Heart (23 page)

“You can do it, Daddy.” Marti wrapped an arm around his waist.

The only ones missing were Ginny and Ben, since they were home, undoubtedly staring at baby Teddy, waiting to take another photo of his next adorable yawn.

Libby watched from behind the cluster of her family, squinting as her father teetered sideways. Every single one of them reached out to catch him before he righted himself and moved up another step.

Just breathe. Her pulse was all over the place, but she knew it wasn’t entirely concern over her dad that made her heart bouncy as a Ping-Pong ball. It was the thought of seeing Tom. It was late Sunday afternoon, so she hadn’t expected him to be here, but his truck was parked in its usual
spot, making her quake with a hundred different emotions. Anticipation, hope, lust, and worry. Worry that he’d retreat again.

Last night had been ooh-la-la incredible. Everything she’d wondered about Tom Murphy had turned out to be true. He’d been skilled and intense, but sweet and vulnerable, too. A sexy, potent combination that turned her limbs to water and her lungs into overinflated balloons.

One deliciously wicked moment flashed in Libby’s mind and halted her feet.

“You okay?” Marti asked, looking over her shoulder at Libby.

Libby felt her cheeks go hot. “Yep.”

Tom was over near a window as they entered. His eyebrows rose in surprise at the sight of them, her father with his crutches and enormous plastic boot protecting his broken ankle, her mother looking pinched with worry, and little Nana in her cherry red raincoat. Libby lingered in the back, but she could tell the moment he spotted her. His face flushed red, and a tiny smile dipped at his mouth.

He set down the hammer in his hand and came their way. “Peter! It’s good to see you.” Tom reached out an arm and clasped her father by the shoulder. “You look good. How are you feeling?”

“A damn sight better than I felt the day they wheeled me out of here on that metal gurney.” He tried to shake Tom’s hand, but the crutches made that difficult. “I can’t thank you enough, Tom. What a blessing you’ve been to me and my family.”

The color rose in Tom’s face again. He pulled over a folding chair. “Here, sit down. I’m just grateful you’re doing so well. I’m amazed you’re up and walking.”

“He’s not supposed to be,” Libby’s mother said. “But he wanted to see his precious ice-cream parlor.”

“I don’t see any ice cream,” said Nana, looking this way and that.

“It’ll be along this wall here, Nana.” Libby pointed. “Come on, I’ll give you a little tour while Dad talks to Tom.”

It wouldn’t be much of a tour since there were only three rooms in the entire building. Plus the bell tower, but she didn’t think she’d show them that. She pulled her mother by the hand, and Nana followed. Marti and Dante stayed with her dad.

“All the ice-cream cases will go here,” she told them. “Tom’s designed them to look like old-fashioned cabinets. They’ll be gorgeous. Then over here is the cash register. I found an old one on eBay to sit here, but
honestly, we probably won’t use it. It just looks cool. And then over on this side will go all the little bistro tables.”

Libby described to them all the details, the window seat Tom was building to go along the front, the vintage chairs she’d ordered, the porch swings they planned to hang out front, the window treatments, and the old-fashioned ice-cream dishes. Until that moment, she hadn’t really considered how much of herself she’d poured into this building. She was doing it for her dad, but somewhere along the line, it had become Libby’s vision, too. She was very proud of how she’d contributed, and she wanted to see it through all the way to the end.

She looked over at Tom on the other side of the room, sitting down next to her dad along with Dante and Marti. He wore his hat backward today, looking half his age, except for those big, broad shoulders that made him look every inch a full-grown man. He tipped his head and laughed at something her father said, and then he turned, as if he could feel her eyes on him. He held her gaze, not the least bit hesitant, and she stopped midsentence, forgetting everything she’d been about to say to her mother and Nana.

He smiled her way, relaxed and easy. He didn’t regret their night. No walls had gone back up. She felt a blush stealing up over her own cheeks and a warmth down low at the thought of his kiss. She wanted to march over there and demand another one right now, but she felt Nana at her elbow and resisted.

“Well, you certainly have done a lot, it seems,” Libby’s mother said, her tone reluctantly impressed.

Libby turned back to them. “We
have
done a lot. Dad’s been working really hard, Mom. I know you weren’t thrilled about this place. And he should have told you before he bought it. But it’s ours now, so I hope you can be excited.”

Her mother shook her head and let her gaze travel around the circumference of the room. “This place does have a certain charm. I can see why you like it. But, yes, Peter should have told me. And he shouldn’t have spent your wedding fund. That was unforgivable.”

Libby chuckled. “I don’t care about my wedding fund, Mom. I don’t need it.”

“You might,” Nana whispered, tipping her head in Tom’s direction, subtle as a brick through a window.

Libby smiled at her. “Anyway, let’s finish the tour. Here’s where we’ll keep the extra supplies.”

She showed them around for a few more minutes, sharing details until, at last, they rejoined Tom, her father, Marti, and Dante.

Tom stood up and gestured to Nana. “Please, sit here, Mrs. Hamilton.”

Nana settled into the chair, her vinyl coat squeaking. “Thank you, young man. What nice manners you have. Did you enjoy the pie I made for you?”

Tom stole a glance Libby’s way. She pressed her lips together, sealing off a smile as his cheeks flushed. He turned back to Nana.

“I can honestly say, Mrs. Hamilton, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a pie quite so much as I enjoyed that one.”

Libby turned away and coughed into her hand.

Nana waved a hand at him. “Oh, listen to you. It’s really all in the crust. If you make a decent crust, anything tastes good.”

It wasn’t the crust, or the filling, or the fact that it had arrived warm from the oven. It was the platter. He’d eaten a bite of that pie right off Libby’s smooth belly, and in all his life he’d never imagined licking sweet, sticky peaches from a woman’s body. His mouth watered, and his blood shot to his groin like a bottle rocket. He cleared his throat and tried to think of something hideously unsexy. But Libby was standing right there. It was no use.

He pulled up a wooden crate and sat down. He should’ve offered the seat to Beverly, but considering the hard-on taking root in his pants, it was really best for everyone if he sat down.

“So, Beverly, what do you think of this place now that you’ve seen it firsthand?” he asked.

She wrapped her coat around herself a little tighter. “I think you’ve done a very impressive job, Tom. My husband is lucky to have found you. I’m wondering what happens now, though, since he won’t be able to lend a hand in the reconstruction.”

Peter not helping could only improve Tom’s pace. He’d be nearly finished by now if not for all the
assistance
he’d been getting. There was a lot that still needed doing to get this place ready for business, and Tom
knew Peter was running low on funds. He’d do the best he could to speed the reconstruction along, although it might mean a financial hit on his end.

“Tom and I were just discussing that, Bev,” Peter answered. “We have a couple of options. Either we postpone our grand opening until after the holidays, or we could hire a few subcontractors and get back on schedule.”

Beverly turned to her husband and pressed her purse closer to her side. “Wouldn’t subcontractors cost more money?”

“Just a little.” Peter Hamilton would be no good at poker.

“I’m sure I can work a little faster,” Tom added. “And Dante here says he’s ready to lend a hand.”

“Anything you need.” Dante nodded. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with my jousting lessons and the banquets.”

Jousting. First a history teacher and a party planner, now a jouster. Tom smiled. Getting this place refurbished was taking quite an interesting assortment of unskilled labor.

Libby set her purse down on the floor and walked over toward the window. “Hey, it looks like it’s going to rain. Maybe we should get Dad home.”

Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, but Tom knew what it looked like spread across his pillow. His pulse revved like a motorcycle about to jump a canyon. He wanted to see her that way again, with her arms reaching up to him and her skin pink with heat. He’d like that for tonight. And maybe the next night after that, too.

“We have to get Nana home, too,” Beverly added. “Thank you again for all your help lately, Tom. Ginny appreciates it, and I just can’t thank you enough for being there when Peter fell. I was wondering, in fact, if you had plans for Thanksgiving. We usually have just our family, but we’d be honored if you’d join us.”

That invitation came from left field and plunked him on the head like a fly ball. Thanksgiving with the Hamiltons? He glanced over at Libby.

Her eyes were wide with surprise. She’d obviously not known about this invitation beforehand. But she smiled and tipped her head to one side.

“Unless of course you have other plans with your own family. But Rachel is more than welcome to join us, too,” Beverly added.

“Um, I’m honored, really, Bev. I would hate to intrude on your family time.”

“Oh, please,” Marti said, getting up from her chair. “We have family time every frickin’ Sunday. You should totally have Thanksgiving with us. My mom makes the best gravy on the planet.”

“I make the best pies,” murmured Nana.

Pie, and gravy, and time with Libby? That would be something to be thankful for. But being surrounded by all of them and trying to keep his feelings under wraps would be a tall order. He didn’t know what she’d said to them about him. And it wasn’t that he had regrets, because he didn’t. But going public and sharing a holiday with a woman’s family was a huge leap from tumbling between some blankets. Pie or no pie.

“I appreciate the invitation, Bev. I’d like to check with Rachel, first, if you don’t mind. I need to know her plans first.”

Libby turned back to the window.

“Of course. There’s always plenty of food, so just let us know when you decide,” Beverly said.

Rain started to pelt against the window. “Uh-oh, we’re too late. Let’s make a dash for it,” Dante said.

Peter struggled up from his chair and adjusted his crutches with some help from Marti. “These things are going to get old very quickly.”

“You’re lucky you’re not in a wheelchair,” Beverly said.

They all moved to the door and clamored down the steps. Tom stopped in the doorway, watching. Libby moved past him without a word, and his chest went heavy, but halfway to the car she said, “Oh, I’ll be right back. I forgot my purse.”

She turned around and moved quickly back inside, pulling at his shirt. He let himself be maneuvered, and as soon as she had him behind the door, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with such swiftness that he bumped against the wall. His own arms circled her waist, and he pulled her closer.

It was a fast kiss. Too fast, because he wanted to hold her there for hours, but she stepped away as fast as she’d come at him.

“Sorry,” she gasped. “I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m glad. Can I see you later?”

She shook her head and walked over to the chair to grab her purse. “I don’t think so. I have to help my dad settle in at home. I don’t really trust my mom around him. She’s still really mad and keeps accidentally
bumping into his broken ankle.” Teasing was apparent by her tone, but she was sincere about not coming over. Disappointment thumped against his hope.

“Well, you’d better stand guard then.”

She came back and pulled on his shirt once more. “I had a really good time last night.”

Her smile was shy, but her eyes were full of mischief, plucking his breath away as neatly as her kiss.

“Me, too.” He wanted to gather her close again, but her family was waiting, and the contact would just make it harder to send her on her way.

“Okay, well…” She sighed. “I’ll see you… around.”

He just nodded. What else could he say except “when?” It was the only word going through his mind.