Somebody Like You (43 page)

Smart, Ames. Very smart.

If she didn’t like his idea, he could only hope she’d say no and leave it at that—not pull a gun on him again.

Once he’d parked outside the range, he closed his eyes and breathed a prayer. “I’m going in, Lord. I’m being strong and courageous, believing this is the way you want me to go. I pray Haley’s heart is open to me. Please, God, if it’s your will . . . let me have the chance of loving this woman.”

He nodded to the two men behind the glass counters. Various guns were tagged and set out on shelves. Protective eyeglasses and earmuffs were on display, as well as gun cases and safes. T-shirts and targets. Now all he needed to do was find Haley.

“Can I help you?” A man with a marines-approved crew cut approached him.

“I’m looking for Haley Ames. I was told she was here.”

“She’s on the range.” The man motioned toward the bank of glass on one side of the room. “Finishing up a lesson.”

“Is it okay if I wait for her?”

“Doesn’t bother me.” The man paused. “Anybody ever tell you—”

“That I look like her husband, Sam? Yeah. I’m his twin brother, Stephen. Nice to meet you.”

They shook hands and then Stephen crossed the room, standing by the windows so he could watch Haley. Her back was to him, her honey-blond hair arranged in the usual ponytail, which was pulled through the back opening of a denim ball cap. She wore jeans and a form-fitting white T-shirt that accentuated how she’d recovered her slender figure since Kit’s birth.

As he watched, she talked with a teen girl, helping her adjust her stance and reposition her arms. Then she stepped back while the girl took aim on a target downrange and fired. Haley patted her on the shoulder, motioning for the girl to try again.

It was a full ten minutes before the teen packed up her gun and the two of them exited the range through the two doors, separated by a small sound-buffering room, then entered the store.

“You did great out there today, Candy. The extra practices are paying off . . .” Haley’s voice faded as she recognized Stephen. A smile curved her lips, her blue eyes shining. “Stephen?”

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Claire told me I’d find you here.”

“O-kay. But why?”

“I wanted to show you something—and I have a proposition for you.” He hadn’t planned on having the conversation in front of other people, but if that was the way things went down, so be it. He wasn’t walking away from Haley without telling her what was in his heart.

“A proposition?” She quirked her eyebrow and then paused, seeming to remember her student. “Wait a minute. Candy, same time next week?”

“Sure, Haley.”

“Good. You’re doing great. Get back here and practice at least twice before then, all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Haley pulled off her ball cap, kneading her forehead with her fingers before repositioning it on her head. “So, what’s the proposition, Stephen?”

“Is there someplace we could go to talk?”

“There’s a coffee shop halfway between here and home, or we could walk along the hiking path back behind the club.”

Sit and add more caffeine to his already overloaded system? Not a smart move. And if he had the chance for privacy, he’d take it. “Walking sounds good.”

“I’ll need to call Claire and tell her I’m going to be late.”

“How do you think I found you? Claire knows I planned on talking with you.”

Another quirk of her eyebrow. “O-kay, then. Let me sign off the clock—”

“And I’ll grab what I need from my car and meet you out front.”

He had all of two minutes to practice what he wanted to say once more. Proposition one. Proposition two. Proposition three. And his success depended on Haley’s liking all three of them.

God, I hope I’ve come at the right time. Not too soon. Not too late. I’m ready. I only pray Haley is ready, too.

A few moments later, Haley led him to the man-made trail. She’d taken her hair down, and it hung in soft waves around her face. Why not just enjoy walking with her in the late afternoon sunshine?

“I saw Peanut when I stopped by the house. She’s only gotten
more adorable since I was here last. She has your blond hair. Your smile.”

“Did you come to see your niece, then?”

“No—although I hoped to see her.” He patted the black presentation portfolio tucked under his arm. “I wanted to show you this.”

“And that is?”

“A couple of things I’ve been working on. I wanted to see what you thought about some of my ideas.”

“You’re the businessman, Stephen, not me.”

“True—but I value your opinion, Haley. I care about . . . about what you think.”

So much for walking and having some casual conversation with Haley. And really, his heart was racing as if he was in a marathon. If he kept this up, he’d sweat through his shirt before he finished. What was the plan again? Three points. Three propositions. One, two, three. Keep it simple. Be courageous.

Around a slight bend in the path, a wrought-iron and wooden bench was tucked up against a small trio of trees. “How about we sit for a few minutes?”

“Sure.”

She settled next to him, not close enough for their bodies to touch, but near enough that the scent of lavender caused him to close his eyes for a few seconds as he breathed one last prayer. Then he slid closer to Haley, positioning the portfolio on his lap. “Like I said, I wanted to show you something.”

Haley touched the cover, labeled with the words
FAMILY TREES
. “What is this, Stephen?”

“You’ll understand if you look inside.”

Stephen traveled all the way from Oregon to Colorado to have her look at a portfolio? Of what?

Haley tamped down the emotions that had surged to the surface of her heart when she saw him in the gun club. She’d wanted to run and throw her arms around him—hold on to him and, even if just for a moment, feel at rest in his arms again. She knew if he held her, the yearning that sometimes kept her awake at night would finally be satisfied. Or would she just want more?

But she forced herself to stand still. To not overreact. Just because Stephen was here didn’t mean anything had changed.

Haley turned back the cover and stared at the penciled sketch slipped into a clear protective plastic page. With her index finger, she traced the erased and redrawn lines, flipping the page over and reading the scribbled supply list.

“It’s the tree house—your and Sam’s tree house.”

“Exactly.”

“I told you I had the tree in the backyard cut down.”

“I know.”

“Seeing this makes me wish I still had that tree . . . I mean, a healthy tree for a tree house.”

“I may be able to help with that.” Stephen tapped the sketch with his forefinger. “Turn the page.”

Haley gasped when she saw the color photograph of the completed tree house, updated with prefabricated material that wouldn’t warp or dry out, with a sturdy ladder and a Plexiglas window instead of a crooked square opening in one of the walls.

“This is amazing. Who . . . who designed this?”

“I did.” The smile on Stephen’s face was reminiscent of the ten-year-old boy who’d helped his brother build a tree house in their backyard. “Well, Jared helped, too. And our team.”

“Y-your team? I’m confused.”

“I went into business with Jared.”

“I know you did—but I thought you were designing houses—I mean
real
houses.”

“Our clients consider these real houses. We’re building one as a guest room. The business we started is Family Trees.” He flipped through pages, showing different designs. “We create high-end tree houses.”

That’s why Stephen had come to see her, after three months? To talk about his new business venture? To show her photographs of tree houses? Haley swallowed the acidic taste building in the back of her throat. She wanted to be happy for Stephen—she
would
be happy for him. He was following his dreams.

“Thank you for showing these to me. They’re magnificent. I haven’t seen anything like them.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

Stephen slid even closer, distracting Haley’s attention from the photographs. “A favorite?”

“Yes.” He flipped the pages back and forth between different designs. “Which one would you want to build for Peanut?”

“Well, you know I love the original.” She turned back to the first photograph, the upgraded version of the brothers’ tree house, labeled
PLAY IT AGAIN, SAM
. She flipped back to another design, one with stairs winding around the tree trunk and a circular stained glass window. “But this one . . . it makes me think of all the stories I’ve read with adventures and a little bit of magic . . .”

“
NEVERENDING STORY
—that’s one of my favorites, too.”

“I’m just sorry I no longer have a tree—I’d want you to build this for Kit.”

“That’s the second thing I wanted to show you.” He turned to the middle section of the portfolio. “What do you think of this?”

Haley looked at the new sketch and back at Stephen. He wore the cologne that always made her want to lean into him.
But obviously the man wanted to talk business. “This is . . . a set of house plans?”

“Right again.” Stephen pointed out different details. “Four bedrooms. Two and a half baths. Two-car garage. Unfinished basement. Half-an-acre lot—with trees. I’ve walked the property, and there’s a perfect one for the tree house.”

“It’s . . . wonderful, Stephen.” What was going on? Why did Stephen want to show her any of this? “But if I’m not mistaken, this house is located in Oregon.”

“True.”

“So you want to build a tree house for Kit in Oregon? What, is she going to play in it when—if—we come out to visit you?”

“Well, that question leads me to my third proposition.”

“Proposition?”

“Proposition. Point. Proposal.”

“You’re confusing me, Stephen.”

“Then I’ll speak plainly.” Stephen set the folder on the bench behind him.

“Stephen, what are you doing?”

“I’m being courageous. Your movie hero John Wayne said, ‘Courage is being scared to death . . . and saddling up anyway.’ ”

Haley leaned away from him, eyebrow lifted. “Did you just quote John Wayne to me?”

“Yes. And here’s another John Wayne truism for you: ‘Life is hard, but it’s harder when you’re stupid.’ Well, I’m not going to be stupid and walk away from the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I’m going to stop being so afraid of what everyone else might think if I fell in love with you. I never stopped and asked God what he thought. I didn’t see his hand in all this—that our loving each other could be good and right.” Stephen took her hand in his, holding it against his heart. “I know traditionally I should get down on one knee, but I want to look in your eyes
when I say this.” His voice wavered for a moment, then strengthened. “Haley Ames, I love you. It’s crazy. But it’s the truth—and I want the joy of loving you and Kit forever—in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, until death parts us.”

Stephen’s declaration left her speechless.

Tree houses.

Real houses—in Oregon.

And now Stephen had come back for her. Quoted John Wayne as he confessed his love for her.

Stephen couldn’t know how many times Haley had dreamed of his kissing her, but the memory of those too-few moments when he held her evaporated as he pulled her close, the strength of his arms a welcome haven. He was going to kiss her again . . . finally.

She turned her face away, pressing both hands against his chest. “Stephen—stop!”

He stilled, his face turning pale. “What’s wrong?”

“You told me that you weren’t going to kiss me again until I admitted I wanted you to kiss me.”

His arms tightened around her again, and from the wicked gleam in the depths of his brown eyes, she knew there was no chance of escaping. “And do you want me to kiss you?”

“Oh, yes—”

With a husky laugh, Stephen fulfilled her request. Her arms slid up his chest to his shoulders, pulling him close. The echo of Stephen’s laugh intertwined with the familiar scent of him, the taste of his mouth, how he cradled her close, making her feel treasured. Even as he fulfilled her longing for him, he created a deeper desire, one that would take a lifetime to satisfy.

God had promised her more, and the chance to love Stephen Ames—to accept that he loved her—was abundantly more than Haley dared to ask for. But this moment wasn’t about asking. It was about saying yes to all Stephen was offering.

She allowed herself to respond without hesitation, without reserve. Let her kiss be her answer. When he started to end the kiss, she whispered, “Not yet,” and captured his lips again.

When he pulled away again with a low moan, Haley hid her face against his shoulder. Stephen’s breath rasped in her ear. “Haley . . . you can’t kiss me like that and not marry me.”

Haley caught her breath, running her fingers through the hair that curled just along the nape of his neck. “I love how you wear your hair long.”

Stephen pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand. “Thank you.”

“And I love the cologne you wear—it always makes me want to ask you to put your arms around me and pull me close.”