When he returned to her bedroom, he found her sitting cross-legged on her bed cradling Beefcake.
“He tried to kill me again,” Noah said, hoping to coax another smile from her.
Alexis set the cat aside and reached for the tea. “Thank you.”
“You want a fire?” he asked, gesturing toward the fireplace along the wall.
“Sure.”
He set his whiskey on the bedside table before crouching in front of the fire. A minute later, it crackled to life. When he turned around, she had scooted all the way back on the bed to lean against the headboard.
He toed his shoes off and sat down on the mattress. It dipped under his weight and creaked, and the sound sent an uncomfortable jolt through his senses. In all this time since they’d known each other, all the time they’d spent together, he’d never been on the bed with her. He’d been in her bedroom numerous times. Hell, he’d been the one to bring the firewood up here. But this? Never this.
Alexis sipped her tea and sucked in a breath.
“Too hot?” he asked.
“Too whiskey-ey.”
Noah chuckled. “It’ll take the edge off.”
“And put hair on my chest?”
“I fucking hope not.”
She laughed. Finally. Thank God. She took another sip, and this time it must have gone down smoother, because she rested her head back against the headboard. After two more sips, she rolled her head in his direction. “Thank you for coming over.”
He leaned back and matched her pose, bringing their faces within inches of each other. “What’re friends for?”
“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
“Just Colton making up conspiracy theories.”
She laughed again, and before he knew what was happening, she leaned toward him and rested her head on his shoulder. The top of her messy bun tickled his chin. Her hair smelled spicy, like the essential oil she used on her neck to ward off headaches.
“My mom’s birthday is next week,” she said suddenly.
“Yeah?”
Her cheek lifted away from his shoulder, and she turned her face up toward his. “Her birthday is harder for me than the anniversary of her death. Is that weird?”
Noah forced himself to hold her gaze. They rarely talked about their parents, even though they’d both lost a parent at too young an age. Her mother died from cancer three years ago, and his father died in Iraq when Noah was fifteen. It was something they shared, a club they never wanted to join but that defined them in ways no one outside the club could understand. There was a loneliness to losing a parent so young. A sense of unfairness that separated you from others.
But probably that’s why they didn’t talk about it. They understood each other without having to perform their grief for each other.
He swallowed. “No, it’s not weird.”
“What about you?”
“The anniversary is harder for me,” he said. But then he shook his head and looked at his lap. “Actually, that’s not true. The night before the anniversary is the hardest for me.”
“Why?”
“Because I start counting down the hours and the minutes until the moment we found out. I can’t turn it off. I can’t sleep. By morning, I’m . . .” His voice trailed off as he searched for the right words.
She didn’t prod him to continue. She just listened and waited. A quality that he doubted was something she’d learned only from working with survivors but was probably just part of who she was. A good listener. A good friend. A good person.
“Impotent,” he finally answered. “That’s how it feels. I can’t do anything. I can’t go back and change things.”
She nodded, smiled softly, and then rested her head on his shoulder again.
The fire popped. Alexis sighed. At the end of the bed, Beefcake licked his fur. And somewhere deep inside Noah, an ember caught fire.
It’s not like it was the first time she’d ever snuggled up to him. Their standard pose when watching a movie these days was her feet in his lap. And just a couple of weeks ago, she’d fallen asleep leaning against him.
This felt different.
Maybe it was because of the guys’ meddling. Maybe they’d planted seeds in Noah’s brain that were starting to germinate. Or maybe, probably, it was because the guys were right. His feelings for her were real, and seeing her vulnerable like this was making it impossible for him to deny it. But the one thing Noah knew about gardening was that there was a small window of time when roots could grow. He’d missed the window with her. Breaching their friendship now would be crazy. Stupid.
Especially now.
He wasn’t friend-zoning himself. He was being a friend.
“Your mom never mentioned your father?”
“Not once. Not by name, anyway.” Alexis licked her lips and continued. “She offered to tell me who he was when I turned eighteen, but it didn’t seem important. He obviously didn’t care about me, so why should I care about him?”
As far as Noah was concerned, that sentiment still applied. The bastard was using one daughter to guilt the other—the one he’d neglected her entire life—into risking her life to save his sorry one.
“What’re you going to do?” he asked after a moment.
“I have no idea.”
“You don’t have to do anything, you know. You’re under no obligation to do what Candi is asking of you.”
She stifled a yawn.
“You okay?”
“I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Then sleep. Your body is telling you it needs time to recover from the shock.”
She yawned again. Noah took the tea from her hands. “Lie down. Get some sleep.”
“Are you going to leave?” she asked, lifting her head from his shoulder.
Noah dipped his head and kissed the crown of her hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Alexis scooted down and rolled onto her side away from him. Ten minutes later, her breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm.
It would be hours before Noah’s did the same.
* * *
* * *
Noah couldn’t breathe.
A hot, heavy pressure on his chest was slowly crushing his lungs. He awoke with a choking cough and stared directly into the glowing yellow eyes of the demon himself.
Beefcake.
This was it. This was the moment when he died. Beefcake had seen him sleeping next to Alexis and was finally getting his revenge. The cat stood on his chest, claws digging into his skin through his T-shirt. Hate radiated from his eyes.
“Easy now,” Noah whispered, glancing sideways at where Alexis slept soundly. “Just be cool.”
Beefcake opened his mouth and dropped the remains of a dead mouse on his chest.
“Jesus Christ!” Noah leaped off the bed. Beefcake yowled and dug his claws into Noah’s chest before taking flight like a winged gargoyle. The dead mouse fell to the floor with a quiet thud.
Alexis stirred but didn’t wake. The dead mouse stared up at him with vacant, mournful eyes. Noah was going to have to clean that up before Alexis noticed. He crept from the room and down the hallway to the bathroom. Under the sink, he found a roll of paper towels and a stash of plastic bags. Beefcake growled from the top of the stairs, and Noah fought the urge to flip him off before soft-footing it back to the bedroom.
Holding his breath, he grabbed the rodent with a wad of paper towel and tossed it in the bag. Alexis stirred again, so he froze. Her chest rose and fell evenly with every breath, and in her sleep, her face was as relaxed as he’d ever seen it. He wanted to crawl back in bed with her and wrap his arm around her waist.
Which is why he forced his feet to move. He carried the bag and dead mouse downstairs. The dumpster was just outside the back door, and after tossing it in, he dragged his keys from
his pocket. There was no way he was actually going to fall asleep again, so he might as well make use of the time.
He grabbed his backpack, went back inside, and flopped down on the couch. He did a quick search for kidney donation risks. The first result was a FAQ from the Mayo Clinic, so he clicked on it and sat back against the cushions to skim the key points. Thousands of kidney transplants were performed every year in the United States . . . higher rate of success when donated by a living donor . . . minimal risks of long-term health problems for donors . . . recovery of six weeks.
He clicked through several more search results, but all gave the same basic information. Kidney donation was safe with very few risks to the donor, and donations from family members who shared a genetic link could reduce the chances of the recipient’s body rejecting the new organ.
Noah closed his laptop and scrubbed his hands down his face. It was all so clinical. He stared at the ceiling and pictured Alexis upstairs. In bed. Another groan brought him upright, and he lifted the lid on his laptop again. He typed in the name Elliott Vanderpool. It took less than five minutes of research to realize that he had a lot more than abandoning his daughter to answer for.
The bastard was the head of engineering for the aerospace division of one of the country’s biggest defense contractors, BosTech—a company that had been under federal investigation five years ago for failing to properly report defects in its drone navigation systems, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of Iraqi civilians.
Which meant he was neck-deep in blood.
A man like that didn’t deserve to even breathe Alexis’s name much less ask for a goddamned kidney from her.
CHAPTER SIX
Alexis woke up the next morning feeling like a hollowed-out pumpkin. And not the perky, freshly carved kind either. She was more like a month-old jack-o’-lantern, empty and soft, likely to break into squishy pieces if kicked over.
She’d fallen asleep on top of her comforter, but at some point, Noah must have covered her up before leaving. She couldn’t believe she’d slept all night. It must have been the whiskey.
A meow next to the bed interrupted the pointless direction of her thoughts. Alexis rolled onto her side and stared down at Beefcake. She patted the mattress for him to jump up. It took several tries before he finally hauled his substantial bulk onto the bed with her. He rubbed his face on hers before settling down with a strong purr. She was the only person he trusted enough to let his guard down around like this. The only person he trusted, period. Her poor misunderstood cat.
Alexis adopted him just six weeks after her mom died. She hadn’t been looking for a new cat. She could barely function, and the last thing she’d needed was the responsibility of a new pet. But the shelter had called and said he’d been there for more than three months. Could she at least foster him for a little while? Alexis had taken one look at his angry face and knew he’d be hers forever. She’d never been able to turn her back on a lonely creature.
Lonely creatures were almost always fighting a battle no one knew about.
The morning alarm on her cell phone chimed on the bedside table. Time to get up. She couldn’t afford to lounge in bed, no matter what had happened yesterday. The café didn’t care that a wrecking ball had crashed through her life.
With an apology to Beefcake, Alexis sat up and lifted the afghan from her legs.
And that’s when she smelled it.
Coffee.
It had to be her imagination. But when she slid from bed and stood, the smell hit her again. Stronger now. Like a gift from Heaven. Had Noah programmed her coffeepot before leaving last night? It was exactly the kind of thing he’d do. Something warm and gooey spread in her chest as she walked across her bedroom, but she stopped short when she heard a noise downstairs.
A clink, like coffeepot against mug.
The warm, gooey feeling evaporated as her heart somersaulted. Noah was still there. Alexis turned and stared at her bed as all the air seeped from her lungs.
Ducking into the bathroom, Alexis took stock of her morning face. Eyes puffy from sleep. Cheeks chapped from crying. Hair like a cartoon character. So, yeah, she was super attractive. She quickly tamed her hair into a twist on top of her head and splashed some water on her face.
Her bare feet padded softly on the carpet as she walked downstairs and up the hallway toward the kitchen. She stopped short at the sight that greeted her. Noah stood at the counter with his back to her. He wore the same clothes as last night, but they were more rumpled now. His hair hung loose around his shoulders—full and curly and the kind of hair supermodels paid millions to achieve and maintain. He held a mug in one hand and his phone in the other, his thumb scrolling rhythmically through his Twitter feed.
Alexis stepped into the kitchen and tried to keep her voice normal. “Hey.”
Noah turned around and gave her a tired smile. “Hey,” he answered through a voice still thick with morning. “You sleep okay?”
She nodded and hugged her torso. “I thought you’d left.”
He peeled away from the counter, eyebrow raised behind his glasses. “Like I was going to leave you alone.” He nodded toward the table. “Sit. I’ll make you some breakfast.”
“Thanks, but maybe just some coffee? I’m not sure I can handle food right now.”
She sat in a chair and drew one knee up to her chest, propping her foot on the edge of her seat. Her eyes followed his movements—reaching for a mug from her cupboard, filling it with coffee, dumping the right amount of creamer and sugar in it to make it palatable. Then he joined her at the table, claiming the seat next to hers.
He handed her the mug. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Mostly I’m just numb. Yesterday doesn’t even seem real.” Alexis curled her hands around the hot cup and let the heat seep into her skin. “Thank you for staying.”
He softly clinked his mug against hers. “What’re friends for?”
They sipped their coffee quietly. Alexis smothered a yawn behind her hand.
“Maybe you should take today off,” Noah said.
“I can’t. I need to be there.”
“You’re allowed a sick day every now and then, Lexa.”
“What’s your day look like?”
He lifted his eyebrow again at the obvious change of subject. “A lot of voice mails I don’t want to deal with and a follow-up meeting with a potential new client and whatever crisis crops up.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“It’s not. I’d rather stay here with you.”
Warmth returned to her chest, followed quickly by uncertainty. What did that mean? “What time do we need to be at your mom’s?”
Noah sat back in his chair. “Maybe we should skip dinner tonight.”
“No.”
“It’s too much. We can just hang out, put together the LEGO set.”
“I want to go, Noah. I need to go.” She offered half a smile. “Anyway, I want to make those stuffed mushrooms your sister likes in case she shows up.”
“God forbid we should disappoint Zoe.”
Alexis nudged his foot with hers. “You’re as scared of her as I am.”
“That is absolutely true.”
The conversation lulled into a shared smile. Alexis opened her mouth to thank him again for staying, but he cut her off.
“I did some research last night after you went to bed.”
Her breath caught. “Research?”
“Into him.”
The coffee turned to tar in her stomach. “What’d you find out?”
His fingers scratched his beard-covered jaw. “Most of what Candi told you seems to check out. He lives in Huntsville. Has two grown children, Candace and Cayden. Works for an aerospace engineering company. I found a link to a company newsletter with a profile of him from a few months ago. I printed it out if you want to read it.”
His fingers tapped an overturned stack of papers next to his laptop. She studied it a moment before nodding. Noah slid the stack over, but she didn’t pick it up. She’d read it later. “Did you find anything else?”
Noah hesitated. “Didn’t you say your mom is from Tennessee?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Elliott is from California, and it looks like he didn’t move out this way until 1999.”
“My mom lived in California for two years before I was born.”
Noah nodded absently, but his eyes had a far-off look to them. “I guess that makes sense, then.”
Alexis tugged her eyebrows together. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I dug up his wedding announcement in an online newspaper archive.” Without meeting her gaze, he powered up his computer, hit a few keys, and then turned the computer around for her to see. On the screen was a black-and-white photo of a beaming bride and groom with their cheeks pressed together and their hands clasped at the chest.
The room spun in her peripheral vision as her eyes focused on the man. Was that him? Was that her father? The man her mother would never talk about, the man who’d never cared to know his own daughter, who’d abandoned her mother to raise a child all on her own? The image was too blurry for her to study the eyes enough to see if they were truly a match to her own, so instead Alexis tore her gaze to the words beneath the picture.
SAMMONS-VANDERPOOL
Andrew and Ellen Sammons of Redlands are proud to announce the wedding of their daughter, Lauren, to Elliott James Vanderpool of Santa Barbara on March 23. The couple were married at St. Francis Cathedral in Redlands followed by a reception at the historic Mission Inn in Riverside. The bride and groom met as students at UC Santa Barbara, where the groom earned his doctorate in aeronautical engineering and the bride earned a bachelor’s degree in education. The groom is employed as an engineer at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, and the bride is a kindergarten teacher. The couple honeymooned in Tuscany, Italy, and will reside in Pasadena.
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