by Sandra Owens
“Probably. It’s just that Elk Antler Brewery is family. I’ve worked doggone hard to earn my place there, to one day have it passed on to me. It’s not fair.”
“Sometimes life isn’t fair. My team has a saying that might apply. Suck it up, SEAL, and move on.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re a SEAL?”
Damn his mouth to hell. He was going to glue it shut.
Chapter Five
“Really? An honest-to-God SEAL?” Peyton said. Wow! That did explain his most excellent eight-pack. His eyes shuttered, and she had the impression he hadn’t meant to let that fascinating tidbit slip. “Am I not supposed to know that? Is it one of those, if I tell you, I’ll have to kill you things? I swear on my favorite beer recipe, I won’t tell a soul.”
“Yeah, now I have to kill you.”
“You’re kidding now, right? Right, Noah?” Of course he was. SEALs didn’t just go around murdering runaway brides. Not that she’d ever heard, anyway. Come to think of it, they were a secretive bunch. Other than being aware they existed, what else did she know about them? Absolutely nothing.
He chuckled. “Of course I’m kidding.” A sly smile appeared on his face. “Probably.”
“If you kill me, you’ll never get to sample the best beer in the world.”
“That’ll do it. You and your beer are now under my protection.”
And who better to have as a protector than a SEAL? He was probably going to regret saying that, because now an idea was brewing. Ha! She was a brewer of beer and ideas. The silly thought made her giggle.
“Now what’s funny?”
“This whole day,” she said, not ready to hit him up with her plan before having it all worked out. The first step would be accepting his offer. “I’ve been thinking, if you meant it, I would like to stay tonight—” she patted the seat cushion “—right here on this comfy sofa.”
“You can have my bed.”
“No way, and that’s not up for discussion. I’m smaller than you, and I’ll be perfectly comfortable.” Besides, it would be weird to sleep in his bed. “Do you actually live here?” From all appearances, he was only passing through.
“For the time being.”
“Well, that explains everything,” she muttered.
He glanced at the dog, then stood. “I need to find a grocery store and get the dog—”
“Lucky.”
“Get some dog food and something for dinner. I assume you don’t want to go out to eat?”
She eyed her filthy feet. “Too dirty and not really dressed for going out.” She held her feet up. “Plus, I don’t have any shoes, and I’m quite certain you won’t have any that fit me.”
“Not likely. Why don’t you take a shower while I’m gone? I’ll give you a clean T-shirt to put on.”
“Thank you, that would be really nice.” She was past ready to get the stupid corset off.
“What would you like for dinner?”
“I’m not picky. Anything you feel like having. Something easy like sandwiches, maybe?”
“Copy that,” he said, then disappeared down the hallway. A few minutes later, he returned. “I put some stuff on the bathroom counter for you to wear. I’ll pick you up a toothbrush. Anything else you need?”
A whole list of things—including some clean underwear—but she didn’t think he’d be appreciative of that request. She narrowed it down to the two most important. “A brush and deodorant. Any feminine brand is fine.”
He nodded, then headed for the door.
“Noah.”
“Yeah?” He glanced over his shoulder.
“Thank you. For everything.”
He dipped his chin, then as he left, she could have sworn he muttered something about remembering the glue.
“Well, Lucky, it’s just you and me now. What’s your story?” The dog gave her a pitiful look, then went to the door Noah had walked out of and stared at it as if willing the man to return. “He does kind of grow on you, doesn’t he?”
Since Lucky refused to tell her Noah’s secrets, she headed for the bathroom. Noah’s duffel bag was still open on the bed. She was sorely tempted to peek at the contents, see if there were clues to the man. “You will not snoop,” she admonished herself.
In the bathroom, she found the T-shirt he’d said he’d left her, along with a pair of sweatpants. The man was a mystery, all right. She’d been wallowing in her own misery and buzzing on champagne, and she hadn’t paid all that much attention when he’d revealed some things about him that she’d wager he hadn’t meant to.
As she showered, she tried to remember their conversation, and she sucked in a breath as his words came back to her. He’d said his father had killed his mother, right? He must have. That wasn’t something she could make up off the top of her head.
How old had he been? Surely, his father had gone to prison for that. What had happened to Noah? She wanted to know everything about him, but she sensed that it would be easier to pull his teeth out than to get him to share his life story.
She dried off, glared at the corset that she’d hoped would make Dalton—no, make Dumb Groom look at her as if she was the most desirable woman he’d ever seen. That had been a foolish longing. She knew that now.
“There. That’s where you belong, you piece of cow dung.” She dropped the hated corset in the wastebasket, along with her dreams.
If she let herself think about the one thing she’d lost that did matter, she’d crumple to the floor, so she took Noah’s advice and sucked it up. Maybe she’d find a job with a competitive brewery. Wouldn’t that get her father’s goat?
She pulled Noah’s sweatpants up to her waist. When she let go, they fell down. Maybe he had a belt in his duffel bag. He would understand her rifling through his stuff to find something that would keep her from flashing her bottom, wouldn’t he?
She found a belt, and she also found a small framed photo of a pretty woman and a boy she guessed was around seven or eight. She recognized the boy right away. Oh, Noah. What a cutie you were.
“Can I help you find something?”
Startled, she dropped the photo, then faced Noah. He stood in the middle of the doorway, his hands stuffed inside his jeans pockets. A storm brewed in his eyes as his gaze shifted from her to the photo that had landed on the bed instead of in his duffel bag and then his gaze settled back on her.
“Um...” She grabbed the waist of the sweatpants that had already drooped halfway down her bottom and pulled them back up. “I wasn’t snooping. I swear.” Okay, maybe a little. She glanced down. “They won’t stay up, so I thought maybe you had a belt I could borrow.”
And how old were you when you lost your mother? What happened to you after that? Oh, and one last question. I could use a hero. Will you accept the job?
Without a word, he strode to the bed, snatched his bag and the photo away from her prying eyes. He reached into the duffel bag, pulled out a belt, handed it to her, tossed his bag into the closet, and then shut the door. The photo he kept clutched in his hand.
Message received. Don’t snoop. What she would never tell him was that her heart was breaking for the boy who’d lost his mother in the most horrible way. She had only known him for one day, but what she did know was that he’d hate her pity.
He left, again without a word, and when he returned, she was still frozen in place, wishing with all her heart that she hadn’t abused his trust. Because she had. Her excuse of looking for a belt was merely to give her permission to snoop through his belongings.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Not replying, he tossed a plastic bag on the bed, then left again, Lucky trailing in his wake. Even the dog had given her a look of disappointment. She wished she could hide, but that would just make her a coward, so she pulled up the sweatpants, and as she put on the belt, she realized that they had a drawstring, an
d she didn’t need a belt. That only made her feel worse.
She picked up the plastic bag, and when she saw the contents, tears burned her eyes. Not only had he bought her a brush and deodorant, but also body lotion, socks, and a pair of flip-flops.
“Oh, Noah,” she murmured as she stared at his gifts.
* * *
Noah put the photo—the only one he had of his mother—in a kitchen drawer, making a mental note not to forget it was there. Like the dice always in his pocket that reminded him not to be his father, the picture of his mother was always with him, a reminder that there had been a time when someone loved him.
His father had been a man with a temper he couldn’t control, a man who’d killed his wife after he’d gambled away the grocery money and there was nothing in the house to feed their son. It had been the last straw for her, and his father had gone into a rage when she’d told him she was leaving and taking Noah with her.
He’d been nine years old when he lost his mother, the only person in the world who’d loved him. When the cops had arrested his father, they’d searched him, and finding his so-called “lucky dice,” they’d dropped them on the floor.
Noah had snatched them up when they weren’t looking. Not that he’d wanted anything from the man he hated with a bone-deep fury.
After his mother’s death and his father’s arrest, he’d gone to live with his mother’s sister. Although his Aunt Melody and her husband had been both kind and generous in taking him in, they already had five children. He’d been a heartbroken boy lost in the middle of a crowd.
Money had been tight, his aunt and uncle’s attention stretched thin with so many children in the house, and there had been a three-year difference between him and the two children closest to his age. The kids tolerated him, but that was the extent of it.
Because there wasn’t an extra bedroom, a cot had been put in corner of the four-year-old’s bedroom for Noah to sleep on. He’d kept his mother’s photo under his pillow, and the only way he could fall asleep at night was with his fingers wrapped around the frame.
To find Peyton, a woman he barely knew, holding the one thing he owned that mattered to him, had hit him wrong. Even so, he’d overreacted, and he owed her an apology. She couldn’t have known that no one but him had touched his mother’s photo since the day she’d died. Why that mattered, he wasn’t sure, but it did.
“I’m sorry, Noah.”
He turned, then leaned back against the counter. “Apology accepted, but I owe you one, too. I overreacted, and I’m sorry for that.”
“The woman in the picture. She was your mother?”
“Yes.”
“She was very pretty.”
No, she was beautiful, and not just in looks. She was kind and generous. She had a smile for everyone she met. Everyone had loved her. He remembered that.
“Will you tell me about her?”
“No.” He couldn’t talk about her to other people. Had never been able to. The one time he had tried to, when his aunt and uncle’s pastor had attempted to get through to the boy who rarely talked, he’d cried so hard that he’d vomited on the man’s shoes.
That had been the last time. For one thing, she was his and he didn’t want to share her. He was also sure if he did, there would be a repeat performance. It was one thing for a boy to barf on someone, but a man? Not gonna happen.
“I don’t remember much about my mother.” She stared at her foot as she made a circle with her toes. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Mostly, I remember that when she’d have a man come see her, she’d give me a coloring book and crayons and tell me to stay in my room and be quiet.” She shrugged. “I loved coloring, so I was okay with that. She yelled at me a lot, but I don’t remember why.”
At least he’d had a mother who’d loved him unconditionally. It didn’t sound like the princess had a mother or father who gave her that. He didn’t want his heart softening for her, but the damn organ did it anyway. That wasn’t good. He already thought she was gorgeous and sexy as all get-out. Add a soft heart to the mix, and he’d be in trouble with this one.
Trouble was his middle name these days, and the last thing he needed was a woman in his life. Nor did she need a man with his baggage considering what all she was dealing with. Tomorrow he’d take her home, think about her for a few days, then he’d forget about her.
Whoever that was laughing in his head could fuck off.
“So...” she said when he didn’t respond to what she’d said. “We’re good now?”
“We’re good. The grocery store had rotisserie chickens. I got one of those and some stuff from the deli. That sound all right?”
“Yes, that sounds perfect.”
She was wearing the socks he’d bought her, and for some idiotic reason, that pleased him. He also liked her in his clothes. She shouldn’t look sexy in sweatpants that she’d had to roll up the bottoms and in a T-shirt that almost swallowed her, but she did. Definitely trouble.
Tearing his gaze away, he found a knife to carve the chicken. Not having any idea what she liked other than her saying she wasn’t picky, he’d bought mac and cheese, two kinds of pasta salads, and cans of corn and green beans. Then he’d gone a little crazy and decided she might like some ice cream later. And again, not knowing her preference, there were now three pints of assorted flavors in the freezer.
“Beer, wine, water, or green tea with your dinner?” Yep, he’d bought green tea for the first time in his life. He really needed to get her home and out of his life. If not, who knew what he’d be buying next?
“You got me green tea?”
“Uh-huh.” By the smile on her face, you’d think he’d bought her a diamond necklace.
“Thank you. I’ll have a cup later. What kind of beer?”
He was probably going to earn points he really didn’t want for this, too. He opened the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle, and held it up. “This good?” Another smile that almost made him wish he’d bought anything but the Elk Antler Brewery beer. He was starting to like seeing her smiles too much.
“That’s one of mine. I mean, I created it.” Her smile faded. “I guess it’s the last one I’ll ever brew for Elk Antler.”
Ah, hell. Now there were tears in her eyes. It was stupid not to realize the beer would remind her of what she’d lost. He put the bottle back in the refrigerator. “We’ll have the wine. Unless you’d rather have water.”
“Screw it. I want the beer.”
“Atta girl.” There was a glint of defiance in her eyes that he liked seeing, and a definite improvement over the tears.
Lucky finished the bowl of dog food Noah had put down, then ambled over to sit at his feet. Why the dog seemed to be gravitating to him, he didn’t know, since he was doing his best to ignore it. Ignoring the woman wearing his T-shirt and sweatpants wasn’t working so well, either.
Chapter Six
Peyton’s home was a loft in downtown Asheville, one of the most diverse towns in the country. She loved living smackdab in the middle of the city. Restaurants were at her fingertips, and Elk Antler’s original brewery was a five-minute walk. If they didn’t have three other locations in the area, she wouldn’t even have needed a car.
“So, this is it, my home.” She glanced at Noah. It shouldn’t matter what he thought, but for reasons she couldn’t explain, it did. She was proud of her loft and the renovations she’d made to it. The building had once been a department store and had sat empty for years after the store had gone out of business. Now, the first floor was a merchant mall, with all kinds of small shops.
The space above the mall had been turned into lofts. She was on the third floor, and the view of downtown and the mountains beyond from her floor-to-ceiling windows was awesome, especially at night with all the lights.
“Nice. You moving out?”
Her gaze followed his to the boxes sta
cked alongside the wall. “I was. Now I’m not.”
Dalton owned a lovely house in a gated community, and it had been understood that she would move in with him. It was just another thing she’d gone along with to make him and her father happy even though she hadn’t been thrilled at the thought of living in a gated community where the houses were spread apart and no one knew their neighbor’s name. She would miss the back deck and yard and the hummingbirds, though. It had been such a peaceful place to relax with a beer after work. Would he remember to change the hummingbirds’ sugar water?
She loved living downtown. Loved the energy vibes, the restaurants, the shops, and the eclectic mix of people. She hadn’t questioned her refusal to put her loft up for sale, but now she wondered if she’d subconsciously had her doubts about the marriage all along. When Dalton had insisted she list it, she’d stubbornly refused to do so until after they were married. At least she’d done something right.
“Well, I’ll get out of your hair,” Noah said.
“Um...would you like a beer or something?” She didn’t want him to go, didn’t want to be left alone to contemplate her mistakes and what she’d lost. And then there were her father and Dalton. She didn’t doubt one or both would be banging on her door at some point, probably sometime today. There was also her plan that she wanted to talk to him about.
“It’s nine in the morning, Peyton.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a start your morning with a beer kind of day, but if you’re not an adventurous sort, I’ll make you some coffee.”
“Thanks, but there’s somewhere I need to be.”
“Oh, okay. Well...thanks for everything. I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t been there when my father and Dalton showed up.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. Just be strong and remember that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Easy for him to say. Also, that smile! Gracious, but it made her stomach feel like butterflies were hatching by the thousands. Before she begged him not to leave, she walked to the door and opened it.
