The Knitting Diaries (12 page)

Robyn stared expectantly.

“I write songs,” he said at last, which was true. “Mostly country music.”

“Any I’d know?”

“Probably not. I haven’t written in a while.”

He hadn’t done anything in a while, except go through the motions. The only place he felt vaguely normal was
at Only Ewe, and that was because it was safe. It wasn’t exactly living, but it was better than the half world he usually inhabited.

A
fter his date polished off an entire fudge brownie, along with a side of ice cream and extra whipped cream, T.J. drove her home.

“That was the best meal I’ve had in years,” Robyn told him. “Seriously, I owe you. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

His mind went to a place it hadn’t been since the death of his wife and the intensity of his longing surprised him. He had a vision of tangled sheets, a naked, slightly curvier Robyn moaning beneath him as he took them both on the slow road home.

He swore silently. What was he thinking? Sex? With her? Impossible. He wasn’t ready to go there.

He pulled up in front of Eleanor’s house, intending to let Robyn walk herself to the door. But he’d been raised by a mama who believed in good manners and he couldn’t help getting out of the truck and walking around to her side.

She slid out gracefully, then strolled with him to the door. “This was great,” she said. “I didn’t think I’d like spending time with you, but it was fun.”

“That was honest,” he responded, amused and a little insulted.

“You don’t talk much at the store. I had this vision of two hours with only the sound of clinking flatware to entertain myself. I’d half planned to order a dozen water glasses and play a little tune with them.”

They paused by the door. She was smiling as she spoke, her eyes bright with laughter. She was beautiful, he realized and as the thought formed, he knew he was going to kiss her.

Robyn felt a level of contentment she hadn’t experienced in years. She was full, happy and ready to crawl into her bed and sleep soundly for a full eight hours. She’d returned to where she belonged, she had people who loved her and dinner had been a whole lot more fun than she’d expected. In her world, that was a big, fat win.

She turned to T.J., ready to thank him, only to find he’d moved close to her. Really close. Then he was leaning in and she only had a nanosecond to brace herself for a very unexpected kiss.

Three hours ago she would have sworn the man would as soon spend time with a scorpion as her. Forty-five minutes ago, she would have said that maybe he didn’t completely hate her. But kissing?

His mouth was warm and sure, firm yet gentle. He kissed like a man who knew what he was doing and liked it just fine. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was both instinct and the need to hold on to something secure in a world that started to spin just a little.

Heat began in her chest and spread out to every corner of her body. Heat and hunger. Not for food, this time, but
for a man’s touch. Warmth changed to need and nearly took her breath away.

When he stepped back, she dropped her hands to her sides. They stared at each other, his face in shadow, but still handsome.

The man was broken, she reminded herself. He spent an inordinate amount of time with a bunch of older women because anything close to his old life was too much for him to deal with. She was home to get her act together, not take on a new project. They had no business kissing.

Yet she wanted to again and again. She told herself that it was just like being hungry for a good steak. That any old steak would do. But she knew she was lying. The ache inside her seemed pretty specifically about T.J., which wasn’t good news at all.

“Thank you for dinner,” she forced herself to say.

“You’re welcome.”

They stared at each other for a few more seconds. There was a moment when the air around them crackled with possibilities. But instead of acting on that chemistry, he turned away. She stood there a few minutes, listening to the sound of his truck driving away.

“I’m the wrong man for the job,” T.J. told Marion as he stared around the fussy shop. “Don’t you want Eleanor here, or Adeline? What about Robyn? She has good taste.”

At least he assumed she did, because she sure tasted good.

He grinned at the private joke, remembering how she’d felt in his arms. All angles and bones, but still exciting. He’d liked kissing her, had wanted to kiss her more. He’d
imagined her with more curves and had been aroused for the first time in years.

“You’re walking me down the aisle,” Marion said firmly, adjusting the front of her pale pink gown. “I want you here. What do you think?”

The dress was floor-length, beaded, with lace and long sleeves. It looked like a wedding gown to him. He didn’t know the difference between one and another. The full skirt emphasized her round shape and the age spots on her chest were prominent.

Yet she was as much in love as any bride a third her age and just as beautiful.

“It’s perfect,” he assured her honestly. “He’ll love it.”

Marion stared at him hopefully, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth softer in the flattering lighting. “It’s not too much? I know it’s formal, but I can’t help myself. I don’t want to wear a tasteful suit or dress.”

“Then you shouldn’t. This is your wedding day.”

She beamed at him, then patted his cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”

He knew she meant more than the dress shopping. After all, he’d been the one to introduce her to her groom.

Six months after he’d discovered emotional rescue at Only Ewe, he’d impulsively invited Marion to join him for lunch. Also at the meal was a retired rancher he knew. It had been love at first sight—both heartening and strange when the couple in question was in their seventies.

“Let me change out of this and we can go back to the store,” Marion told him.

“Take your time.”

When she’d left, one of the sales clerks offered him coffee. He refused and would have turned to the selec
tion of magazines, but she continued to stand in front of him.

“Yes?” he asked.

She was in her twenties and pretty enough.

“You’re T. J. Passman,” she said, her voice laced with disbelief. “I’ve seen your pictures before. You own Long Day Records.”

He glanced around quickly to make sure that Marion hadn’t overheard. No one at Only Ewe was aware of his business or his success. Success that no longer mattered.

“My boyfriend auditioned for you last year,” the girl continued breathlessly. “You turned him down, but you gave him a lot of really great advice. He took it all and one of your music executives signed him last month.”

He wanted to be anywhere but here. “I’m glad it worked out,” he muttered.

“He is, too. It’s so exciting.” She glanced toward the dressing rooms. “Is that your grandmother?”

“A friend of the family,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to talk business around her.”

The girl looked confused, but nodded. “Okay. Sure.”

He gave her a smile and waited for her to leave.

Years ago, he’d enjoyed the trappings of success that came with owning his company. But wearing thousand-dollar suits and driving a car that cost more than most people made in a year hadn’t saved his wife and son on that slick, wet road. Losing them had nearly destroyed him. He’d been prepared to die that night, too. The joke on him was that he’d lived.

Robyn did her best to keep smiling. Her grandmother had preregistered for her knee surgery and was already
checked in at the hospital. They sat together in her private room, waiting for them to come and take her to surgery.

Robyn knew that knee replacement was routine and nothing to worry about, but she couldn’t help thinking that stuff happened. People died and Eleanor was the only family she had in the world.

It was her own fault, she thought grimly. She’d been the one to stay away so long. Why hadn’t she come home years ago?

“Stop it,” her grandmother said firmly. “Whatever you’re thinking, I want you to stop it. I’m going to be fine. When I’m recovered, I’m going on
Dancing with the Stars.
”

Despite her worry, Robyn laughed. “Well, I should hope so. They’ve been calling and calling. It’s kind of annoying.”

Her grandmother laughed and patted her hand. “I’m not afraid and don’t you be, either. I’m excited to get back to my regular activities without being in pain all the time. And it’s a huge relief knowing you’ll be there at the store.”

“I’ll take care of everything,” Robyn promised.

“I know you will, dear.”

“I’ll even get Adeline to stop talking about her cruise.”

Eleanor grinned. “Good luck with that.”

Far too soon, the older woman was wheeled away. She waved until she disappeared around a corner. Then Robyn headed for the waiting area. The doctor had promised to come see her as soon as the surgery was over. Until then, her job was to wait and make phone calls. Marion
and Adeline were at the store and needed updates every thirty minutes—even if there was nothing to say.

She’d barely settled into one of the chairs by the window, when a tall, good-looking man walked in. T.J. glanced around the room, then headed directly for her.

She hadn’t seen him since their date. Under other circumstances, she would have felt awkward. But the impending surgery made it hard to think about anything else.

“They already take her in?” he asked.

“A few minutes ago.”

She expected him to express disappointment at missing Eleanor, then leave. Instead he settled next to her.

“Worried?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Me, too.”

Robyn blinked at him. “Are you staying?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“To keep you company and because I want to.” He frowned. “Maybe not in that order.”

Despite everything, she laughed. “That makes it clear.”

He flashed her a smile. “She’s tough. She’ll pull through this. You’ll see.”

“I hope so.”

He put his arm around her. She leaned against him, feeling his strength, knowing the waiting would be easier because it was shared.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Anytime.”

“Y
our grandmother now has the knee of a thirty-year-old,” the doctor said as he approached.

Robyn sprang to her feet, barely able to breathe. “So it went well?”

“I couldn’t have asked for a smoother surgery,” the doctor told her. “Your grandmother came through extremely well. She’s already in recovery and you can see her in about an hour. She’ll still be out of it, so you’ll have to keep the visit short.”

Robyn nodded, concentrating on sending out prayers of gratitude. T.J. was talking to the doctor, probably asking sensible questions that he would tell her about later, she thought, relieved to know that Eleanor was fine.

“You need pie,” T.J. decided when the doctor left. “It’s one of those things. Pie after surgery.”

“I didn’t have surgery.”

He shook his head. “Why are women difficult?” He grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the waiting room. “I’ll get them to put extra whipped cream on it. You’ll like that.”

“Pie does sound good,” she admitted, following him.
“Now that the four-hundred-pound weight of worry is off my chest.”

They made their way to the cafeteria and collected their pie, along with coffee. T.J. led the way to a table by the window. They sat across from each other.

Robyn took a couple of bites, letting the sugar rush restore her.

“Thanks for staying,” she said. “It can’t be fun, being back in the hospital.”

He shrugged. “It’s better to wait than be the one in the operating room.”

“I’m sorry.”

Polite empty words, she thought, wishing there was something more she could offer.

He stared at his scarred hands. “I thought I’d die, too,” he murmured. “I wanted to. With them gone, I didn’t have anything to live for.” He glanced at her. “Fate wasn’t that kind. I was left behind to recover without them.”

She could intellectually understand. She’d lost her mother, she understood the pain of feeling as if a part of yourself was gone. But to lose a child must be something so much worse. An emptiness that never went away.

“I only went into the knitting store to get my physical therapist off my butt.” A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Those old women fussed over me. I wouldn’t talk, but they said enough for ten people. The first time I answered a question, they nearly fell over.”

She touched his hand. “They’re good people.”

“Yes, they are. They helped me heal—pretty much against my will.” His gaze sharpened. “I’m not the man I was before. I don’t care about things the same way. I’ve lost as much as there is to lose.”

She wasn’t sure if he was sharing or warning her. Either way, there was a message—one she should listen to.

They’d had a single date that had been very nice. She would like to think that they were friends. As his friend, she could appreciate all he’d been through. But to want any more from a man like him was to try to catch hold of the moon. It would never happen.

“I feel guilty about my second chance with my grandmother,” she admitted.

“Don’t. Be happy that you still have time with her. She’s an amazing woman.” His expression softened. “They all are. Wait until you see Marion’s wedding dress.”

“She went for a traditional dress?”

“Lace and beads and a veil from that material you brought her. All dyed pink.”

Robyn laughed. “I can’t wait to see it. She’ll be a beautiful bride.”

“I’m walking her down the aisle.”

“I look forward to that, too.”

Robyn hovered as her grandmother gingerly sat on the edge of the bed.

Eleanor leaned back against the pillows and sighed. “Stop staring. I’m fine.”

“You just had surgery.”

“Four days ago. I’m feeling good and frankly, compared to the pain I had before, this is nothing.”

Robyn wanted to believe her, but she couldn’t help worrying. Even though the surgery had gone great and Eleanor’s recovery was exactly where it should be, her grandmother wasn’t a young woman.

The nurse, an efficient-looking woman in her forties, walked briskly into the bedroom.

“How are we feeling?” the nurse asked as she quickly adjusted pillows and eased Eleanor against them. “That last pain shot they gave you at the hospital will wear off in the next couple of hours. You tell me when it does. We need to stay on top of the pain. Pain stresses the body and for the first couple of weeks, you need to concentrate all your energy on healing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eleanor said with a teasing smile.

Her nurse grinned in return. “That’s what I like to hear. Cooperate completely and we’ll get along fine.”

Robyn stepped back to allow the nurse to check her grandmother’s vital signs.

Apparently part of Eleanor’s impressive health care had included a private room at the hospital, a drive home in an ambulance and a twenty-four-hour nurse for the first ten days she was home.

She heard the front door open and went to check who had arrived. Adeline and Marion would both come by, although not during store hours.

Robyn came to a stop when she saw T.J. in her grandmother’s tidy living room. She shouldn’t be surprised that he would visit. He’d been at the hospital every day. Still, she hadn’t been expecting him and somehow the sight of him made her breath catch a little.

“How is she?” he asked.

“Great. Happy to be home and the nurse is amazing.” She glanced back at the bedroom. “Are you sure the insurance company authorized the private duty care?”

“It’s all taken care of. The time is prepaid, so make sure Eleanor uses every minute of it.”

“I will and thanks for calling for me.”

“You had plenty to do,” he said. “I was happy to help.”

He’d done more than help, she thought, staring into his
dark eyes. He’d been a rock. When she’d been worried, he’d made her laugh, when she’d been tired, he’d sent her home to rest. Maybe he’d been difficult and judgmental when she’d first arrived home, but that no longer bothered her. T.J. looked out for the people he cared about.

Involuntarily, her gaze dropped to his mouth. He hadn’t kissed her since their dinner out, even though she’d found herself wishing he would. Which made her a fool. She wasn’t looking to get involved—she had her life to put back together. But even if she was on marriage alert, he wasn’t a good candidate. Too much of a past, she thought.

“It’s ten,” he said gently.

A not-so-subtle reminder that she was supposed to be at the store, helping Marion.

“Do you want me to go to Only Ewe?” he asked.

“No. I need to be there.” Her grandmother was trusting her with the business. Robyn wasn’t about to let her down. “Are you going to stay for a while?”

“Until Eleanor gets tired,” he said. “Then I’ll come back this afternoon.”

Telling herself he was available because he didn’t have a real job or a life might be true, but it didn’t make her less hopeful that he would be there when she got home.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll go tell her I’m leaving.”

As Robyn returned to the bedroom, she reminded herself that T.J. was the kind of temptation a sensible woman ignored. A man like him was a born heartbreaker. Her woman’s instincts made her want to heal what was broken, even as her head pointed out that loving someone like him would only rip her up inside.

Not that she loved him. But she had a feeling she easily could. If she wasn’t very, very careful.