Almost Like Love (21 page)

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

K
ate couldn’t help feeling a little flutter of anticipation as she got ready for the rehearsal dinner. Of course, this wasn’t a date—after their night together the previous week, she and Ian had gone back to a friendship dynamic, which was definitely the best thing for both of them.

Sure, she felt a twinge of disappointment every now and then. That was only natural—just as it was natural to feel that electric rush of attraction every time she saw him. It wasn’t as if her female hormones had stopped functioning just because her mind was being sensible.

And she didn’t regret their last night together.

She decided she had no reason to feel self-conscious about making an effort with her appearance tonight. It was Jessica’s rehearsal dinner, after all. Everyone would be dressed up.

The fact that Ian was her escort for the evening was only a secondary factor. And he definitely wasn’t the reason she’d begged Simone to go shopping with her yesterday.

If it hadn’t been for Simone, Kate would never have considered buying the dress she wore now. She slipped on the strappy sandals she’d bought to go with it and went to stand in front of the mirror.

The dress was sapphire blue—to match her eyes, Simone had explained. It was a simple design, with cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline and a skirt that swirled around her knees in floating layers of silk tulle.

She loved it.

The intercom buzzed, and her flutter of anticipation turned into a riptide.

“There’s a gentleman here for you,” Andreas said. “Shall I send him up?”

“No, tell him I’ll be right down,” she answered.

She checked her hair once more in the mirror—she’d worn it in an upsweep, which actually made her neck seem long and elegant—and then grabbed her purse. A minute later, the elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the lobby.

As Andreas held the front door for her, she noticed a vintage Rolls-Royce at the curb.

“Wow. Whose car is that?”

He grinned at her. “I believe it’s yours—at least for tonight.”

Just then, the driver’s side door opened and Ian emerged.

She blinked.

He complemented the car perfectly, even though he wasn’t wearing anything vintage. He also wasn’t in one of the business suits he wore to work, and he wasn’t dressed as Spike.

His suit was modern and sexy and exquisitely tailored for his broad shoulders, and Kate had to resist the urge to fan herself.

“You really outdid yourself, Hart,” she said, trying not to show how touched she was that he’d gone to all this trouble.

“And you look like a princess,” he said, handing her a white rose she hadn’t even noticed he was carrying.

She looked down at it to hide her sudden blush. “It’s lovely. Thank you.”

She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Andreas had gone back inside the lobby. Then she turned back to Ian, who was smiling at her.

“So . . . what’s the deal with all this?” she asked cautiously. “It’s wonderful, but a little over the top, don’t you think?”

“I needed the right setting,” he told her, leaning back against the gleaming white car and sliding his hands into the pockets of his dark gray suit.

“The right setting for what?”

“For a story I’d like to tell you.”

A stor
y
?

“Well . . .” She hesitated. “I guess we have some time before we have to be at the restaurant. Is it a long story?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Okay, then.”

He took a deep breath, and then he began.

“Once upon a time, a lonely man fell in love with a beautiful woman. But he was proud and blind and afraid, and he didn’t realize his true feelings.”

Her heart knocked against her rib cage. She squeezed the rose stem in her hand, belatedly grateful that its thorns had been removed.

“But one day the man was faced with the loss of something precious. And he knew in that moment that what really mattered to him were the people he loved: his nephew, and his friends, and the woman who’d taught him that magic is real—and that love is real, too.” He paused. “And that cats purr between twenty and a hundred and forty hertz.”

She was caught between tears and laughter.

“Damn you, Ian Hart,” she muttered, grabbing a tissue from her purse and swiping at her eyes.

“What is it?”

“I never wear makeup. I put some on tonight, and now you’ve made me cry.”

She stuffed the tissue back in her purse. Ian took it from her, along with the rose, and set them on the hood of the car.

Then he reached for her hands. “Kate Meredith, I love you. I have some long-term plans I don’t think you’re ready to hear yet, so for now, I’ll just ask you this: Will you be my girlfriend?”

She wanted to say yes.

“I . . .” Her mouth was dry. She tried again. “I . . .”

She shook her head. “Oh, Ian. I know I called you a coward, but . . . maybe I’m the real coward. My heroines are brave, but I’m not. I was with Chris because it was easy. And even though it didn’t work out with him, I don’t know if I can handle . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Me?”

“Well, yes.”

He squeezed her hands. “The thing about being a writer is that you get to be in control. The characters you create have to act exactly the way you want them to. Being with me won’t be like that . . . and it won’t be easy. I won’t always do the things you want me to, or the things you wish I would. But I promise to love you with everything I’ve got.” He looked into her eyes. “And you’re not a coward. You feel scared right now, but that doesn’t make you a coward. You’re every bit as brave as any of your heroines. You just need to let your own life be your greatest story.”

Let your own life be your greatest story.

Her skin prickled. All her life, Kate had poured every color of the rainbow into her writing—but she’d been content for her own life to be in black and white. Now, for the first time, a new possibility opened in front of her.

Being with Ian would challenge her on every level. It would take courage, love, and imagination.

Everything she valued most.

“For a guy who claims he’s not creative, you sure have a way with words sometimes.”

He lifted her hand and kissed it. “So what do you say, Kate? Will you come with me on this adventure?”

And then, all at once, her excitement was bigger than her fear.

“Yes,” she said, and he pulled her into his arms.

His mouth slanted over hers, and she felt his kiss in her bones. When they finally came up for air, she told him, “Now you’ve messed up my lipstick, too.”

He grinned at her and opened the passenger door of the Rolls. “I make no apologies for that. My lady, your carriage awaits.”

She got into the car, and Ian handed her the rose and her purse with a courtly bow before coming around to the driver’s side.

“You know, this is harder for me than it is for you,” he said as he settled in next to her. “I’ve had to adjust all my ideas about the world.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never knew life could be like a fairy tale.”

Her heart threatened to overflow. “I have to adjust my ideas, too,” she said.

“How?”

“I never knew life could be better than a fairy tale.”

She could have sworn his eyes were brighter than usual.

“Are you crying, Hart? That’s so sentimental.”

“I’m not crying,” he said. “The sun’s in my eyes.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Hey, Ian?”

“Yes?”

“I love you, too.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A huge thank-you to the entire team at Montlake, especially the wonderful Maria Gomez. I’m also indebted to Charlotte Herscher, editor extraordinaire, who helped make this book better.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Photo © 2014 Target Portrait Studio

Abigail Strom started writing stories at the age of seven and has never been able to stop. On her way to becoming a full-time writer, she earned a BA in English from Cornell University, as well as an MFA in dance from the University of Hawaii, and held a wide variety of jobs from dance teacher and choreographer to human resource manager. Now she works in her pajamas and lives in New England with her family, who are incredibly supportive of the hours she spends hunched over her computer.

You can visit her website at
www.abigailstrom.com
or e-mail her at
[email protected]
. She would love to hear from you!