He dialed Josh’s number, putting the phone on speaker as he worked on cleaning up the rest of the kitchen.
“Hey. I was just about to phone you. Kyle and the guys will be there at nine tomorrow. They’ll finalize anything that needs to be done but at this point, we need to put them on hold until you hire one of these designers. Did you talk to any of them yet?”
Washing the counter, he replied, “Yeah. I’ve narrowed it down to three. They’ll come see the space, give me some ideas, and I’ll be able to choose the one that fits what I’m imagining.” He eyed the sketches Grace left. He’d need to return her sketch book. He wondered if she realized she’d left it. She was really good. It was too bad she was still a student. Not that she’d want to work with him anyway. Not now. Plus, he wanted to be in that magazine, and that meant big-ticket names.
He blurted out his question before he lost his nerve. “What’s the best way to apologize to a woman?” Noah asked, squirting soap into the stream of warm water.
“What’d I do?”
“Hurt her feelings.” Even saying it, never mind imagining the look in her eyes, made him feel like he could be sick.
“Hmm. Dick move.”
Noah bit back his growl. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”
“This is going to sound radical but if you’re serious…” Josh said.
Noah stiffened, stared at his phone. “I am.” He held his breath.
“You look her right in the eyes and you say, ‘I’m sorry,’” Josh said, his voice cracking with laughter at the end.
“Why do I pay you again?” Noah asked, but his lips were twitching with amusement.
“To answer weird-ass calls at all times of the day.”
“I was thinking a bracelet or something. My dad always bought women jewelry.” He had an account at Tiffany’s just for apologies.
“Unless you’re in a serious relationship or you broke her bracelet, I would not go that route.”
Could it be as simple as saying, “I’m sorry. I was insensitive”? That didn’t seem like enough.
“Okay. Thanks.” Noah turned off the water.
“No problem. Funny, though. You’ve got this reputation as a ladies’ man but you’re asking for advice.”
“Well, that reputation is mostly bullshit. I hit any event with a woman, no matter who it is, and some tabloid says I’m marrying her. Fortunately, my brothers and I don’t make much of a splash in the New York society pages anymore. My sister is still pretty good at it, though.”
She could have it. That was a spotlight he didn’t need.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then. I have a surprise.”
“What is it?” Noah washed the pan he’d used to grill onions for the burgers.
“A surprise is a thing you don’t tell people.”
Noah laughed. “An employer is a person who controls a paycheck.”
“Touché. You’ll see. It’s a good one.”
“Better be or it’s a sucky surprise.”
“As long as you don’t do a sucky apology, everything should work out fine.”
He dried his hands so he could press End. Hopefully, Josh was right and everything would be fine. It occurred to him, as he finished up the dishes, that he was so worried about making things right with Grace, he’d forgotten that he wanted her house in the first place. Maybe Chris and Everly were right: it was a choice. He was choosing to shift his priorities. It wasn’t too late to figure out what kind of man he wanted to be. He hoped.
16
Grace finished the online practice test with a score of ninety-three percent.
“I’ll take it.” She shoved her books aside, looked for her sketchbook before remembering she’d left it at Noah’s.
She’d probably overreacted, leaving without even saying goodbye to his family. Over the last several years, she’d prided herself on reading people—which was part of why she hadn’t told Noah to take a hike. There was intrinsic good in him, a connection she hadn’t felt with anyone else, even if he could be a jerk. She sensed there was a reason behind it. But last night, she’d felt like her supersenses were off.
She didn’t need anyone else in her life who put themselves first. Her mother had given her enough of that. She picked up the letter again. Read it. She didn’t want to. Avoidance was a cool strategy, right? Sure. Works every time.
Rolling her shoulders, she finished the last of her coffee. She was debating another cup when the doorbell rang. She hoped it wasn’t Noah. She wasn’t ready to see him or talk to him yet. She did need her book, though.
As she walked to the door, she muttered under her breath, “You’re hurt because you thought he was starting to feel something back.” Let’s face it, she’d been drawn to him from first sight.
Grace swung the door open. She was greeted by a middle-aged man in a red uniform. Bright red. Red shorts, shirt, socks, and hat. She blinked, her gaze zeroing in on the patch on the right chest pocket. RED’S FLOWERS. HERMAN. Okay.
“Hi, ma’am.” His wide grin showed slightly crooked teeth.
“Hi … Herman.”
He laughed, tapping his chest where his name was stitched. “That’s me. Are you Grace Travis?”
“I am.”
He passed over a clipboard. “Sign here. I’ll grab your flowers.”
“Okay.” Her chest tightened. No one had ever sent her flowers.
She handed the clipboard back after signing, then watched Herman head to the red van. Since it’d never happened before, she didn’t know what to expect. Maybe a bouquet? Some roses? Grace did not expect Herman to start lugging blossoming flowerpots out of the vehicle. The clay pots he set down on her lawn were beautiful with their bold colors. The flowers inside each one were different. Every color of the rainbow shone out of the arrangements. When he finished, there were twelve pots in her yard.
Herman, who wiped his forearm across his brow, glanced up. “You want these up there on the porch?”
“Who are all of these from?”
Going to the van, Herman grabbed something before coming toward her and passing her a small white envelope.
“The porch, ma’am?”
Blinking rapidly, she looked from the porch to the pots. They wouldn’t all fit. There were enough to edge all the way around her front porch.
“No. They’re fine where they are.” Feeling slightly dazed, she jolted when he slammed the van door shut. “Let me grab my purse for a tip.”
“No need. It’s all been taken care of. You have yourself a great day. Enjoy those beauties.”
Holding the envelope like it was a precious secret, Grace waved as he drove off. She stared down at it a moment before tearing into it.
Hurting you was never my intention. I was wrong.
Noah.
She frowned. Wrong about what? Manipulating her? Hurting her? All of it? Without thinking it through, she walked around the fence and up to his front door, knocking before she could back out.
He opened the door quickly enough that she’d bet he was watching from the window.
“Hey.”
That was it? “Hey.”
He smiled at her. It wasn’t the usual disarming smile but one more humble. “You got your flowers?”
She glanced back at them, then gestured with her hand. “What is all that?”
Noah stepped out onto the porch, surveying the pots. “Flowers.” He looked down at her, his forehead creasing in confusion.
“Flowers? That’s not flowers. It’s … landscaping. What are they for?”
Now he put his hands on his hips, turning to face her. “To say I’m sorry. It’s what people do. It’s a gesture. An ‘I’m sorry I was a jerk’ gesture.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting over her. “I didn’t mean to play you. Actually, that’s a lie. I fell back on a business strategy that I shouldn’t have tried with you. It was wrong. I won’t ask to buy your house again. Because you asked me not to.”
“Okay. But couldn’t you have just said that? Did you need to buy all
of California’s flowers?”
He looked incredibly uncomfortable, even shifting his stance, which did not suit the man she’d come to know. “It didn’t seem like enough.”
Grace could only stare. Too many thoughts collided in her brain, so she started at the beginning. “What you said would have been fine. I appreciate it and can see that you mean it. But for future reference, if you’re doing flowers as a follow-up, it’s typically a bouquet. You know, like, twelve roses? Not twelve huge potted plants.”
He smirked. “Given a lot of apologies?”
She narrowed her gaze, making him put his hands up in a surrender gesture.
“Just asking. I’m new to this. Cut me some slack.”
Grace threw her arms up in the air. “How can you be new to apologizing? Are you that much of a jerk that you just stomp on people’s feelings without ever regretting it enough to say so?”
The look on his face stopped her before she said anything else. Surprise registered first, then worry. His mouth opened. Closed. He rubbed the back of his neck again.
“I don’t make a habit of hurting people, Grace. Regardless of what you think of me.”
Part of her problem was that she didn’t know what she thought of him. Not clearly. Being around him made her brain and feelings resemble a shaken snow globe.
She shook her head. “I think you have no idea the impact you have on the people around you. Everyone hurts people, Noah. Intentionally or not, there’s no way around it.”
He stepped closer. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
God. It was this right here that kept her coming back despite her uncertainty. That look in his eyes, the way her body hummed from the tips of her toes to the roots of her messy updo. No one had ever made her feel this way with just a look.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Something shifted inside of her, pushing common sense to the side and leaving her with a whole lot of wanting to know how his mouth felt.
He took a deep breath in and when he let it out, the warmth of it fanned over her skin. When had he moved closer? Or had she? “You confuse the hell out of me.”
Her throat tightened. “Then we’re even.” In the back of her mind, she heard her own warning: Do not venture down this rabbit hole.
Noah reached out, brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek before tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She felt like she had a hundred heartbeats and he was controlling every one.
“This is a bad idea,” she whispered, right before she stepped into him, ran her hands up his chest and met his waiting mouth. His arms clasped around her, pulling her closer into him. He stood in the same spot, rooted to his porch, but Grace felt like she was spinning, falling, twirling, losing control of her carefully scheduled program.
When his tongue touched hers and one large hand roamed over her body, she didn’t care about anything other than getting closer. This was how people ended up broken. And healed. She couldn’t let a man do either of those things to her. She had no room in her life for an unscripted fling. At least not one with this man, because she knew, just from this mind-blowing kiss, that he could wreck all her carefully laid plans.
She pulled back in small degrees as if it would ease the ache. It didn’t. Their combined breaths echoed in her ears as their foreheads touched. Her eyelids fluttered open, reality seeping back in.
“We shouldn’t have,” she whispered even though she’d never be sorry she had. Just once. She’d needed to know. Now she did. Now she knew the kind of desire that probably set her mom’s path on fire. The kind that made her leave a home with people who loved her to follow a man who hadn’t stuck around past Grace’s birth.
That’s where this kind of passion went. It was uncontrollable. Unpredictable.
“Gracie,” he whispered, his lips finding hers again. She arched into him, not wanting to let go. Because she knew, when she did, she’d have to walk away. Noah Jansen was the kind of man she could lose herself to. Something she’d promised herself she’d never do.
Her feet touched the ground, she pulled her fingers from his hair, fidgeting with them, unsure how to shift her universe back to pre-Noah.
At least Noah looked as poleaxed as she felt. “That’s some serious chemistry.” His voice was rough. She shivered.
“I’ll say,” she whispered.
They both started to speak at the same time. She shook her head. “This is a bad idea. For so many reasons.”
“Right. Obviously,” he said, one side of his mouth lifting halfheartedly.
“We’re neighbors.” Who was she clarifying for? What she should have said was, “We’re worlds apart and completely different and want different things out of life.”
“Complicated,” he muttered.
“Exactly,” she said, more excitedly than she should. “We don’t want this to be complicated.”
“We could be friends.” He stared at her like he wanted to pull her into his arms again.
It was a careful in-between that she wanted to believe she could manage. “We could.”
He held out a hand. She laughed, taking it, wishing she didn’t want to feel the slide of his palm over every inch of her body.
“I’ll grab your book,” he said.
She watched him go, whispering to the flower-scented breeze, “I’ll just stay here and pretend this is going to end well.”
17
Grace fiddled with her 3D design program, moving furniture around. She’d been able to plug in her dimensions to basically re-create her home. Her teacher had told her about a student laptop buy-as-you-go option through the school. It wasn’t the top end but it was far better than what she’d had and could actually run the programs. She couldn’t afford to make all of the changes, definitely couldn’t afford the furniture all at once, but seeing it, even on a screen, infused her with energy. Drive. She wanted this. She’d work her ass off until she got it.
She was averaging a pretty good Noah ratio today, about three-to-one. Three thoughts about something else, one about him. It was better than the night before, reliving the feel of his mouth and dreaming about more. When she’d woken up with his name on her lips, she’d had a firm talk with herself, a reminder of what she was working toward. Noah was not part of her picket fence, two-point-five-children, happily-ever-after plan. A man like that … how many places did he own? This was the first he’d actually hung on to.
She wanted a man who held on. Someone she could hold on to when the storms blew. Her mother had spent her life looking for the right man to make her feel good about herself, to help her achieve whatever she wanted to achieve in any given moment. She used men like a crutch, solidifying Grace’s determination to make it on her own before sharing her life with someone else. That someone else, whoever he ended up being, would be her equal. Someone who assumed she could handle a hammer rather than being surprised by it.
As she poured her coffee, the best possible incentive for staying on track sat, mocking her. She grabbed the letter from her mother and tore it open.
One hand clutched the envelope while the other shook slightly.
Grace,
You never return my texts. I get that you’re probably mad at me. What kid doesn’t grow up mad at their parents? Maybe now you understand me a little better. I guess this is some kind of karmic kick in the ass for walking out on my parents. But I had a reason. You don’t. I never tried to hold you back from anything.
I don’t want to be alone my whole life. I have no one. Really, neither do you. I’m your family. Maybe I didn’t get that before but I do now. I could come out there. I know you’re living in my parents’ house. The house that should have been mine. There’s no point in me paying rent on the trailer when I should be there, too. I have every right no matter what some stupid lawyer says.
Taking care of you until you were old enough to do it yourself made things hard on me. I couldn’t do the things I wanted to do to have a better life with a kid hanging on my hip. I think that war
rants a little compassion on your part. Or, at least, a place to stay. I never wanted to go back to California but if that’s where you’re going to be, that’s where I want to be, too. We could try to fix our relationship. Try to make things better. Think about it. Maybe text me back sometime so I don’t have to mail you letters like we live in another century.
Mom
Grace crumpled the letter, tossed it onto the counter. Her breaths sawed in and out rapidly. Gripping the counter, she closed her eyes, forced herself through the alphabet. By m, ironically, she was calmer.
Some things never changed. Tammy Travis was one of them. Passive-aggressive bullshit that ultimately laid all of the blame at Grace’s feet.
When Grace had been notified about her grandparents’ passing and the will, her mother hadn’t been mentioned at all. Grace was already in California at the time. She had no idea if her mother had been notified, but clearly she knew Grace had inherited the house.
The letter served its purpose; her priorities were back on track. School, graduate, job, and then she could think about a man. One who would complement her life, not confuse it.
“Enough,” she said, pushing back from the table. No dwelling. She had plans for today. She went out the back door, noticing that Noah had someone working on his palm trees. In her shed, which needed fixing, she grabbed some gloves and gardening tools. She was going to plant his apologies.
Going back through the house, grabbing a bottle of water on the way, she bit back a scream when she opened the door and came face-to-face with a stranger.
He was tall with dark hair, good bone structure, and a decent physique. Attractive. Grace immediately decided he didn’t have a serial-killer vibe, which was backed up by the fact that he didn’t bite back his scream.
Grace laughed. He pressed a hand to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Damn. That scared the hell out of me.”
“Same. Can I help you?”
“Do you know CPR?” He grinned, his dark eyes joining in.
“You’re still breathing so I think it’d be a bad idea.”
“Good point. Okay. Let’s try this again. Are you Grace?”
How to Love Your Neighbor Page 11
