"But we barely know each other," Melanie said, shaking her head.
"You've spent the last two weekends with him," Nana observed archly. "Seems to me you should know each other pretty well."
Heat flooded Melanie's face. "Not well enough to be in love."
"Honey, how long do you think it takes to fall in love? A month? A year? Three years?"
"I don't know. I don't trust myself. I thought I was in love before. I can't make that mistake again."
Nana reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "I'll tell you how long it takes to fall in love. It only takes a moment." A faraway look came into her eyes. "I took one look at your Grandpa Will and knew he was the man for me. Luckily, he felt the same way. We'd only known each other three weeks when we got hitched." Her expression cleared. "The only time there's a problem is when you love someone who doesn't love you back. That doesn't appear to be the case."
Hope dawned in Melanie's chest. "You mean, you think he might really love me?"
"If he's half as smart as I think he is, I'm sure he does. He said so, didn't he?"
"And you don't think it's too soon?"
"How long did it take you to fall for him?"
A slow smile tilted Melanie's lips. "Only a moment."
"So don't you think the same thing could happen to him?"
"But he told me that he'd waited a long time to lead a bachelor life."
"Honey, a man who's determined to remain a bachelor doesn't tell a woman he loves her. It appears he's changed his mind. The question is, what are you going to do about it?" Nana regarded her steadily from wise eyes. "If you're really set on not being involved, you need to tell him. It wouldn't be fair to lead him on.
"But," she added, patting Melanie's hand, "if you decide to come out of your self-imposed exile and give love another chance-this time with a real man instead of a lying scuzzbucket-then you need to stop your cryin' and start celebrating. You've found yourself one helluva guy."
"I'm scared, Nana," Melanie whispered, wishing she wasn't.
"’Course you are. You should be. But don't throw love away just because it came calling and you weren't ready. Love is ornery. It likes to wait until you least expect it, then it jumps up and bites you right on your unsuspecting ass. I always thought love was like childbirth. It hurts like hell, but in the end it's worth it."
Melanie took a deep breath and pressed a hand to her stomach. She was in love. And it was okay. In fact, it was wonderful! Chris was kind, honest, and loving. He would never betray her the way Todd had. Hadn't she already realized that she trusted Chris completely? Love didn't mean she had to give up anything. Only share. And sharing with Chris was something to look forward to, not dread.
She cringed, recalling how she'd panicked and practically run away from him. He must have thought she was loony. She wanted to call him and tell him she loved him, but she didn't want to tell him over the phone. She glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. Too late to drive over. And he was going out of town tomorrow.
Darn it, she'd have to wait until Wednesday night to tell him.
But that was okay.
What could possibly go wrong between now and then?
Chris drove back to his condo, his thoughts in a whirl. For the first time in his life, he'd told a woman he loved her, and what happened? She'd looked like she swallowed a bug.
Damn it, he hadn't expected her to fall at his feet and declare undying devotion, but it would have been nice, or at least encouraging, if she hadn't bolted like a frightened deer. He'd been debating whether or not to tell her about the information he'd given Glenn, but her hasty departure had prevented him from broaching the subject.
According to Glenn, the bank wouldn't make its decision before Thursday, and Chris was scheduled to arrive back in Atlanta Wednesday evening. He certainly didn't want to tell Melanie over the phone.
I'm worrying needlessly. The bank will approve her loan. When I get back from LA, I'll tell her everything and we'll laugh about it. Besides, if the bank said it wouldn't make its decision before Thursday, that no doubt meant they'd decide sometime next week, or the week after.
Considerably cheered, Chris pulled into his parking space. What could possibly go wrong between now and Wednesday?
Chapter 15
He had to talk to her. Right away.
But the gods were conspiring against him.
Chris glanced at his watch for the hundredth time and frowned. His flight to Los Angeles was boarding and he needed to speak to Melanie before he left. He'd called the Pampered Palate half a dozen times, but he kept getting a busy signal. That was good for business but not good for him.
He'd already left two messages on her answering machine at home. His flight was announced over the loud speaker.
Damn.
He had to talk to her, had to explain before she heard it from someone else.
Glenn had promised not to call Melanie until tomorrow morning with the news, which was fine-but not if Chris couldn't talk to her first. Damn it, he should have told her last night, but she'd left him in such a hurry, he hadn't had a chance. Not to mention that he'd been so caught up in telling her that he loved her, he hadn't mentioned that her loan might be kaput because of him.
Now he knew the loan was kaput, and he had to tell her. Jesus, when the hell did banks start doing things ahead of schedule? The loan officer had called Glenn at eight A.M. to deliver the regretful news that Miss Gibson's loan was denied. Glenn had sprung the news on him as he was racing out of the office to drive to the airport. And to make matters worse, Glenn also announced Chris's trip to Los Angeles needed to be extended to meet with another client and now he had to remain on the West Coast until Friday.
His stomach clenched at the thought of telling her over the phone, but it was all he could manage. Impatiently dropping coins into the pay phone, he cursed himself for not bringing his cell phone. He almost cheered out loud when he didn't hear a busy signal.
"Pampered Palate, Gourmet to Go," came Nana's gravelly voice over the line.
Relief washed through him. "Nana, it's Chris. Is Melanie there?"
"Hiya, handsome," Nana said, and Chris had a mental picture of her patting her bright red hair. "Mel just left. She's helping out with the last of the deliveries. It's been a zoo here."
Chris swore silently. "I have to talk to her, Nana. Will you tell her I'll call her tonight?"
"She won't be home tonight," Nana stated. "We have tickets to the Braves game. We're heading over to Turner Field as soon as she gets back."
"Final boarding call, Flight 423 to Los Angeles."
Chris raked his free hand through his hair. "Nana, please write down this phone number." He pulled his itinerary out of his briefcase and rattled off the number for the Los Angeles Marriott. "Ask her to call me tonight."
"We'll be getting home late," Nana said.
"It doesn't matter what time it is. Please tell her to call me. Tonight."
"Okay, honey. I'll tell her."
Chris said thanks, hung up, and sprinted for the gate.
He settled into his seat and laid his head back and closed his eyes. His stomach churned and his head pounded.
He had to talk to her before Glenn did.
The phone rang.
Chris rolled over and groaned. What the hell time was it? Peeking out of one eye, he grabbed the receiver.
"Melanie?"
A mechanical voice greeted him. "Good morning. The time is seven A.M. This is your requested wakeup call."
Chris's eyes popped open and he sat up straight. One look at the beside clock confirmed that it was indeed seven in the morning.
She hadn't called him.
He jammed down the receiver. "Damn, damn, damn!"
What the hell time was it in Atlanta? He shook his head to clear it of sleep. Ten A.M. He had to call Melanie right away. He was just reaching for the phone when it rang. He grabbed it.