There was no reason for her to fee
l embarrassed, or like she wasn’t good enough, because he hadn’t been willing to spend the next week riding around in her car.
It had been fine the year before.
“I can drive my own car,” she said, telling herself he hadn’t meant any harm. That he was just being himself, which was what she’d wanted. That she was going to have to get used to their differences, to not take offense every time her lifestyle didn’t live up to his expectations. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life feeling like she wasn’t enough. “I don’t need to be an added driver to this one,” she added, just to clarify. She didn’t even want to drive it. The thing had to be worth sixty thousand dollars or more. She’d be too nervous behind the wheel. What if she wrecked it? Or someone slammed into her?
She’d just strapped herself in as she said it, glanced back at Stella in the rearview mirror attached to her carrier, who was freshly fed and wide awake in the backseat, directly behind Nolan, and tried to pretend that she wasn’t hurt.
And that she wasn’t worried that her daughter would barf up her breakfast all over the expensive leather interior. She’d gotten a couple of good burps out of her, but you never knew...
“I just thought... No, you’re right,” he said before letting her know what he thought, and she found herself desperately wanting to know. Good or bad. Who was this man?
How much of Forte had been real?
“I wanted to drive,” he told her then. “It didn’t feel right to ask to take over your car. To use your gas. And... I’ll just buy another car seat. I’m going to need one, anyway.”
He’d been thinking of her? About the hassle of switching the base back and forth? She’d have expected Nolan Forte to be as thoughtful...so why not Nolan Fortune?
Surely she wasn’t guilty of some kind of reverse discrimination. Moneyed people, in spite of their power, could also be kind. Thoughtful. Unselfish.
Ashamed of herself, she smiled at him, told him she was scared to death to drive such an expensive vehicle, and when he assured her she’d be fine, and that she’d be fully insured, she agreed to have her name added to the lease as a driver.
Lizzie found herself wanting to agree with pretty much everything Nolan suggested as they made their way through the bazaar. Stella slept through parts of it, but when she was awake, her eyes were wide open as she studied the twinkling lights lining the booths, the colorful wares on display. It turned out that there was no Santa for her to have her picture taken with after all, but it wasn’t like she’d have understood the significance of the jolly old man at her age. The place was overflowing with unique art, glasswork, paintings and jewelry, woodworking, spices and window frames with pressed flowers in the glass. Nolan offered to buy everything she stopped to look at, and while she couldn’t let herself give in to him—she had no need for the things and nowhere to store them—after a while she was pretty sure he was just messing with her. His teasing tone made her laugh out loud. She gave him a playful shove, and almost melted when his warm grin washed over her.
“I just want you to have everything your heart desires,” he said softly, his gaze completely serious all of a sudden.
Even if her heart desired him?
“I have what my heart desires,” she said, meaning Stella, but unable to pull her gaze away from his.
He swallowed, his jaw tensing as his eyes filled with deep emotion. She thought he was going to say more, but he looked ahead, breaking the trance that had been holding her hostage, and she could breathe again.
* * *
Standing outside a public restroom after lunch, waiting for Lizzie to feed Stella, Nolan people-watched. The indoor bazaar was bustling with rows of booths and shopping extravaganzas. He’d been trying like hell not to do something stupid—like calling his parents and telling them that he was a father—when his phone buzzed a text message.
You need to play for the Christmas Eve party. Mom’s stressing out about you being gone again. Text and tell her you’ll play...
His oldest sister, Georgia, was bossing him around as usual. Which snapped his head on straight. There was no way he could tell his folks about Stella. Not yet. Because he’d told Lizzie he wouldn’t, of course.
But also because he needed time to prepare them.
A plan to prepare them.
Skipping Christmas again would not prepare them for anything good.
He only had seven more days with Lizzie. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, Tuesday and Wednesday of the following week, would only leave him five.
It was Stella’s first Christmas. He wanted every second he could squeeze with Lizzie, too. Carmela was staying in town this year, but Lizzie had given him the full ten days, which meant that he could spend the entire day with them.
And he had to think of the future. The big picture. His family eventually accepting, welcoming, his illegitimate child, made with a woman he’d only known for two weeks.
He wasn’t a kid. Couldn’t live in the moment anymore.
Scrolling down to a different text conversation, one between him and his mother, he responded to her request of two days before to play a set of holiday carols at the annual Fortune Christmas Eve party.
Yes.