Part of her wanted it. That commitment. That promise of enduring love.
No. This is enough.
She and Marie Dawn hung up, agreeing to talk more later, and it came to Allie all at once that she’d been trying to allow it to be enough. But some part of her was left unsatisfied.
She hated to be such a girl. But when had she ever imagined walking down the aisle with anyone but Mick Reid?
She shook her head, slammed the dresser drawer shut. She was being ridiculous. She was happy with things as they were. They were happy. And did she really have any better grasp on forever than Mick did? Wasn’t the idea of that what scared her?
Or maybe it was the idea of something as wonderful as the love they had for each other being taken away. It felt . . . inevitable.
Don’t think about it.
She’d been pushing that thought to the back of her mind ever since they’d talked about love. But she couldn’t help that it came creeping back in sometimes. Like after they’d made love staring into each other’s eyes and it felt like a gift, and she’d have to swallow down her tears.
She’d gotten good at pretending, hadn’t she? Pretending the fear wasn’t always there, hovering. Waiting.
No.
She had to shake it off or the fear was going to ruin everything. It was the one thing she couldn’t talk to Mick about. The one thing she had to keep locked away in a dark corner.
She opened the dresser drawer again and stuffed the tank top back in, going to the closet to distract herself more than anything, maybe. She finally decided on a long cotton-knit sundress in a modern print in shades of orange and brown. She grabbed her favorite flat brown leather sandals she’d bought in Barcelona years earlier, and added a pair of silver hoop earrings after putting her hair up, as Marie Dawn had suggested.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror she told herself not to be silly—his family had always liked her and there wouldn’t be a problem. But the real problem was the nagging voice in the back of her mind that worried about this being one more step in a serious direction.
“What are you even thinking?” she asked her reflection aloud. “You’re with the man you love, who loves you back.”
She was too afraid to assure herself it wouldn’t all disappear at some point, just dissolve like soap bubbles on the wind. Because she loved him. She didn’t dare believe in it too much. It made her so sad—it hurt to the core—if she let herself dwell on that thought.
She squared her shoulders. “So I just won’t.”
But the mirror didn’t lie. She could see for herself the haunted look in her eyes. She’d have to do better before she saw Mick.
* * *
MICK HELPED HER out of the truck in front of his parents’ home, a perfectly kept two-story wood-sided colonial built in the 1930s.
“Ready to see everyone?” he asked, holding on to her elbow as they made their way up the front steps.
She turned to smile at him. “I can’t wait.”
It was true, even if her stomach had a few gently fluttering butterflies.
He opened the door, and Mick’s father was on the other side, waiting for them.
Emmet Reid was nearly a carbon copy of Mick. He was almost as tall, with the same dark hair and gray eyes, the same hard, handsome features, if a bit more weathered. And the same air of command that had helped make him fire chief. Even after being retired for several years, he still carried himself with a natural air of authority. But his broad, warm smile was full of welcome as he pulled Allie in for a hug, and she found herself relaxing into his embrace.
“Allie, it’s been too long since we’ve seen you, girl.” He patted her back and pulled away to look at her. “I’d heard you’d grown into a fine-looking woman, but my oh my. No wonder Mick’s so taken with you.”
She glanced at Mick, who rolled his eyes, but he was grinning proudly.
“It’s so good to see you,” Allie said. It was. It was good to be back in their comfortably familiar house, with its broad wood floors and the familiar lemony scent of furniture polish.
“Hands off her, Dad. She’s mine.”
Emmet released her, gave Mick a hard clap on the shoulder and waved them through the living room. “Your mother’s in the kitchen. Go say hello to her. Everyone else is out back. Which is where I should be, tending my grill. I have some gator sausage going that’ll set your tongue on fire—so hot it’ll take all my boys and me to put the flames out.”
She caught Mick’s silent wince. She knew he hated when his father in particular made reference to his other sons being firefighters. Not that Mick begrudged any of them. But she knew he still felt it like a stab to the chest that he hadn’t been able to be a part of that noble family tradition.
They moved into the kitchen, where Mick’s mother—still a beauty with a head of gorgeous dark curls even in her sixties—was spooning coleslaw from an enormous Tupperware container into a festive plastic bowl. She set it down and wiped her hands on her apron, coming around the counter to take Allie in her arms.
“Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for joining us.”
“Thank you so much for inviting me, Maureen.”
“Of course.” Mick’s mother let her go and looked her over. “All grown up. I can remember you at sixteen like it was yesterday. How’s your mother doing?”
“She’s just fine. Still up at four a.m. every morning to bake, same as always.”
“Good. That’s good. Mick, you come give your mother a kiss.”
He leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek.
“Has he been nice to you, Allie?”
“He has. You’ve trained him well.”
“That’s my boy,” Maureen said, beaming. “Now, what can I get you to drink? Sweet tea? Lemonade?”
“A cold beer for us both, I think, Mom. Allie? Yes? I’ll get it.”
“I’d heard Allister did your kitchen remodel,” Allie said as Mick grabbed two bottles from the refrigerator. “It’s gorgeous. He’s started work on my place. I can’t wait for the dust to settle, especially if it turns out anything like yours.”
“Thank you, honey. I’m thrilled with it. And Mick told me about the work being done on your house. I’m awfully sorry about your aunt Joséphine, by the way. You weren’t close with her, were you?”
“I don’t think anyone was. I’m not even sure why she left the house to me. Maybe because I was the only relative left in the States, although she did have some family in France.”
Maureen took her hand and looked her in the eye. “Some things are just meant to be.”
She resisted the urge to pull away and smiled instead. “Yes, I guess they are.”
“You two go on out back and see the rest of the family. Allie, you haven’t even met my grandson, have you?”
“I haven’t.”
Mick reached into the bowl and pulled out a piece of cabbage, stuffed it into his mouth. Maureen gave his hand a slap. “Go on, now. I’ve got work to do in here.”
“Can I help with anything?” Allie asked.
“Don’t be silly—you know I have control issues when it comes to my kitchen. You go visit. Enjoy yourself. I’ll be out in a bit.”
“Come on.”
Mick took her hand and led her through the pantry and out the back door that led to the screened-in deck. She smelled the sausage and shrimp cooking on the grill right away, mixed with the summer scent of the sun hitting the green leaves of the big lacebark elm that grew in the Reids’ yard. Marie Dawn was next to her in a moment, pulling her away from Mick to greet his brothers. Gareth and Nolan both looked a bit more like their mother’s side of the family, with rounder features and her blue eyes. They introduced her to Nolan’s fiancée, Katie, and Gareth’s wife, Leanne. Their teenage son, Colby, was throwing a Frisbee on the grass for Emmet and Maureen’s old yellow lab, Scratch, who had been a puppy the last time she’d seen him.