How to Love Your Neighbor

by Sophie Sullivan

  Noah stayed right by her side as they climbed the stairs to the guest room.

  “Says here you need to tell us the theme and intention,” John said, tapping the clipboard.

  Clasping her hands together, sort of glad this part wasn’t being photographed, she turned to address the small group of their friends.

  “Noah and I had previously discussed color themes.” Her gaze automatically sought out his. “This one is ocean blue. My intention was to create an oasis where someone could kick back with a good book or curl up for a wonderful night of sleep or…” She grinned, trailing off purposefully.

  “Or what?” Morty asked, trying to peer around Tilly’s shoulder.

  Grace ignored him and turned the door knob. They all entered the room. She sucked in a breath and held it while they took in the transformation. She couldn’t look at Noah. She was scared to see his initial reaction.

  The feature wall was an off-white with painted lines that gave it the illusion of being covered with shiplap. Shane had done an amazing job making it look like actual panels of whitewashed wood were attached to the wall. The wrought-iron bed was covered in a white bedspread, but accented with giant navy blue pillows, and a white-and-blue-striped throw decorated the end of the bed.

  The shelving nook beside the closet had been painted a pale blue, the white knickknacks—a cool-looking shell, pieces of worn-looking beach glass, and a tiny replica of a ship—creating a kitschy beachside vibe. An oversize chair sat just under the window. The other walls were painted pale blue, so the dark blue of the chair really pulled everything together. This was her work and it was going to be featured in a magazine. The magazine. She subtly pinched the skin under her arm. Ouch. Yup. Really happening.

  She watched Noah move around the space, taking it all in. A purposely weathered dresser, also white, sat against the wall across from the window. The room was clean, comfortable, and striking. She saw a smile tip his lips. When he stopped at the chair, his large hand sweeping over the blanket she’d draped across the back, his gaze found her own. Her heart rattled against her rib cage.

  “Not a flamingo in sight,” he said quietly, his eyes wide.

  She laughed, but it sounded as nervous as she felt.

  Touring the room, he came back to stand in front of her. “Grace. This is stunning. You’re amazing.” His tone was reverent, the words seeping into the cracks of her heart that she’d always covered with bravado.

  “Not too bad,” Morty said gruffly, patting Grace’s arm. “Let’s go see how he did.”

  “Don’t you know?” Grace sniffled. She would not cry over a design or the look in Noah’s eyes taking it all in. So what if it was the best moment of her professional life? And maybe her personal one.

  “Nah. Thought I’d keep myself in suspense.”

  The doorbell rang. Morty lengthened his stride. “Damn. Pizza is here. Might need to take an intermission.”

  “Oh, stop it. You can wait a few more minutes. Go on, Grace. Take them over, sweetie. I’ll take care of setting up the drinks and food,” Tilly said, squeezing her arm.

  She kept shooting glances Noah’s way, and every time she did, he was looking back at her with the kind of awe she wasn’t sure she deserved. He hadn’t really expected flamingos, had he? Curling her fingers into her palms, she fought the overwhelming desire to slip her hand into his as they entered her house.

  “Breathe, babe. Your guy may get easily distracted but we’ve got you. You’re going to love it,” Rosie said.

  Your guy. Had Noah ever been anyone’s guy? Did he have a bad relationship under his belt? One that had changed him, made him averse to finding forever?

  John stopped in front of her closed office door, pushing his shoulders back. He wasn’t using his cane today. Actually, neither was Morty. She was so happy they’d taken part. Merging the two … Two what? Families? Groups. She’d go with groups. Bringing them all together was more fun than she’d expected.

  “Please state your theme and intentions toward our Gracie,” John said.

  Morty’s laugh turned into a cough. “Maybe we ought to ask Grace’s intentions toward Noah.”

  “Maybe we should stay on track before I deny you both pizza and beer,” Grace said with a smile.

  John cleared his throat, gesturing to Noah. “Go ahead, boy.”

  Noah was at least a foot taller than the older man and definitely not a boy, but he stepped forward. As his gaze locked with Grace’s, she noted the way he shoved his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels. Noah Jansen was nervous. Rosie nudged her hip, ramping Grace’s excitement up another level.

  “I’ll admit that Rosie is the genius behind this vision but we all wanted to create a space for you that was functional and eye-catching. While you’re all standing here, I also want to say thank you for doing this with us. It’s unconventional for sure. It’s … special.”

  Grace’s stomach flip-flopped with his words, the intensity of his stare.

  “What’s the theme?” John asked, tapping the clipboard.

  “Serenity,” Noah said.

  “Productive serenity,” Rosie amended.

  “Open it up,” Chris said, his arm around Everly.

  John pushed the door open. Grace moved into the doorway, taking in the changes. Folding her hands together, she clasped them in front of her chest, her gaze moving over every nuance of the space they’d created for her to work in.

  Soft yellow adorned one wall, while the others were a light gray. She’d so hoped they’d use the gray. Instead of standing the shelving units against the wall, they’d mounted them above the worktable she’d purchased, which gave her more room than she’d expected. A corner desk sat to the left of the window. The shelving cubes above the one side of the desk were decorated with treasures: a squat gorgeous blue ceramic vase filled with her favorite contour sketch pencils, a framed abstract color wheel, and a cool wooden clock.

  On the wall opposite, next to the closet, were the photographs she’d had framed years back. They were black-and-whites of some of her favorite architectural pieces.

  “You took off the closet door,” she said, her voice scratchy as she walked toward the shelving they’d installed. Most of the shelves were empty, ready for her to fill up, but several copies of Home and Heart magazine sat on one of them.

  Grace’s throat tightened uncomfortably. She stared at the shelves, overcome with the fact that they’d put so much effort and thought into every little detail. It was meant to be fun. A way to show Noah how regular people got their homes painted. With a twist. He didn’t have to jump in with both feet. The man was paying her to design his house, not come up with games. He’d not only jumped in with enthusiasm, he’d helped create a dream office space. She breathed in and out slowly.

  Noah placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. She felt his body at her back. Everything else seemed to disappear, though she was sure the others were all still standing there.

  “You like it?” he whispered.

  Pressing a hand to her mouth, not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

  Noah dipped his head, his breath fanning over her cheek as he spoke into her ear. “You sure?”

  A strange sound left her throat as she turned, launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. The emotions and feelings she tried to keep in check when he was near burst free. She couldn’t stop them. “I love it. I love it so much.”

  Her voice broke but she didn’t even care because his arms came around her, locking around her waist.

  “Maybe we should check on that pizza,” Rosie said.

  Grace didn’t look up from where her nose was buried in Noah’s neck, but she heard the others mumble agreement. Cool air washed through the room from the open window. Noah pulled back, looking down at her with a mixture of concern and amusement.

  “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, Grace?”

  She blinked, unsure if she could speak without spilling the contents of her he
art all over him.

  Noah’s hand stroked her hair back from her face. The last vestiges of the day’s sunshine flickered along the walls like diamonds sparkling. Grace’s breath caught in her throat. She felt so much for this man despite her denial. The cage around her heart, the one she kept locked while she waited for the perfect moment and the perfect man, squeaked open.

  “Is it what you imagined, Gracie?”

  Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she nodded slowly. “I love it. I feel so selfish because we’re supposed to be transforming your house. I just thought this would be a fun way to introduce you to having friends over to help out because you wanted to do things differently and I knew they would do a good job, I mean, Rosie was here. But this is so much more than I expected. I love it. While I was trying to show you how much people care about you, how they have your back and will show up when you need them to—without you having to hire them—I showed myself the same thing.” All the words tumbled over one another, coming out in an ultrasonic stream of emotion.

  Noah’s expression was unreadable. She was such an idiot. Why had she thrown all of that at him? Why couldn’t she just say thank you? She started to apologize but he beat her to it.

  “Grace.” His voice was rough. Reverent. “This friend thing might be harder than I thought.”

  The tip of his nose touched hers and before she could ask him what that meant, he kissed her, his arms tightening around her as he lifted her up against his body. One hand tunneled into her hair, holding the back of her head while the other arm gripped her around the waist. Grace got lost, and possibly found, in the seconds that followed.

  Everything that followed was a blur; like a dream she could picture vividly but wasn’t entirely sure actually happened. The laughter and voices of their friends were the soundtrack to a day and night she wouldn’t ever forget.

  With an unspoken understanding, Grace and Noah rejoined the others, standing apart but sneaking glances at each other. She didn’t have to be touching or even standing next to him to feel like he was at her side. She wasn’t sure she participated in the conversations, the debates over who won. She no longer cared. Nerves hovered along her skin with the acknowledgment of how consumed she felt with him. But beyond the worry, surpassing it, was a bone-deep desire to see where it could go. You’re not your mom. She was in charge.

  Noah’s heated gaze caught her attention. The overwhelming urge to usher everyone out of her house caught her off guard.

  No one seemed to notice that she’d checked out. No one other than Noah.

  John raised a hand and announced, “Due to the transformation of such a small space, we’ve decided that Noah’s group wins.”

  They cheered, leaned into one another, and high-fived. Noah looked at Grace, then leaned in so only she could hear. “Whatever I want.”

  She shivered. She wouldn’t think about what came next. She’d just focus on right now. One day—one minute—at a time. Even losing, she felt like a winner.

  28

  Fire blazed through Noah’s body when he heard the click of the front door closing. He curled his fingers into fists, watching Grace come back to the living room from saying goodbye. Their gazes collided like stars. Memories of high school astronomy tickled his brain: crashing stars could combine to create a giant constellation or collapse into a black hole.

  Even knowing that this could go really damn well or completely implode, he stepped forward. When she reached her hand out, he met her halfway, surprised their connection didn’t create bursts of color in the air.

  Grace stared down at their joined hands. “We said we wouldn’t do this. That we wouldn’t go here.”

  His heart stumbled at the thought of walking away. He’d rather get caught in the black abyss of them not working out than not try at all. He tilted her chin up with his index finger.

  “It’s not too late to walk away,” he whispered, their bodies moving closer.

  A one-sided smile tipped her beautiful lips upward. “It’s not?”

  Had he ever worked so hard to stop himself from taking what he wanted? Craved? “It’s whatever you want, Gracie. The choice is yours.”

  She pressed her hand over his heart, resting it there. “It’s yours, too. It’ll change things. I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl. Especially with someone I care about.”

  God. The thought of walking away after a night with her gutted him, actually making his insides seize. He pushed a hand into her hair, inhaling the unique scent only she possessed. The one that curled inside of him, burrowed into his being. This wouldn’t just change things. It would change him.

  “I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he said, his throat unexpectedly dry. “But I can tell you I’ve never felt like this before or wanted anyone more than I want you. Not just for a night or two or three. I don’t know what the future holds but you’re all I see, Grace.”

  She pulled her hand from his, put both of her arms around his neck, gave him that brilliant smile that simultaneously tied him in knots and set him free. “So, we’re talking somewhere between three nights and forever.”

  His laugh surprised him. She was the only woman he knew that could add humor to the tension vibrating between them. He let his forehead touch hers, the connection grounding him.

  “Tell me what to do, Gracie,” he whispered.

  Her body moved against his as she began walking him backward. “If I have to tell you what to do, I’m going to be very disappointed.”

  Another rough chuckle escaped his lips. “I won’t disappoint you. I just want you to be sure.” His heart was trying to beat out of his chest as their feet slid in tandem toward her bedroom.

  “You’re all I see,” she whispered, giving his words back to him. She went up on her tiptoes, arching against him as she brought her lips to his. Noah was lost. He scooped her up, his arms wrapping around her like a vise.

  In her bedroom, the gentle light of the moon danced through the slats in the blinds. Soft throw pillows in light colors adorned her dark gray comforter. He lowered them, coming down beside her, barely loosening his hold.

  He let his lips travel over her face, stopping to kiss her eyelids, her forehead, down her cheeks, along the column of her neck. She was intoxicating. Her breathing halted, started, her body shifting enticingly. Her hands traveled over him, learning his body, driving him out of his mind.

  “Noah,” she whispered as her hands cupped his cheeks.

  He moved over her, kissing her, peace and hunger warring inside of him. Her hands in his hair, their skin touching, her mouth on his; he was drowning. For the first time in his life, he was okay with losing himself if it meant finding them.

  * * *

  Noah’s career and life were built around measuring risk and reward. He loved that part—knowing, in his gut and his head, if the benefits outweighed the drawbacks. Lying there with Grace’s breath fanning softly over his chest, tickling his skin, he realized this was different from anything he’d ever known. Because he didn’t make deals or decisions with the piece of himself she’d captured. His heart had no place in boardrooms. Which meant, he didn’t know where to go from here.

  Acting with his gut was different from following his heart. Right now, all he wanted was to sweep her beneath him again and profess the feelings overwhelming him. He wanted to make promises and hear them from her lips. He wanted guarantees and bottom lines. Were they a couple? Would this impact their working relationship? Did she regret it? Was he the kind of man she imagined by her side? Had he lied when he told her he wouldn’t be a disappointment?

  Her hand stilled on his heart. “Not to be cliché but what are you thinking? You’ve gone quiet but it’s like I can feel your thoughts buzzing around the room.”

  He laughed, squeezed her tighter. “You know me too well.”

  He sucked in a breath, realizing it was true. Grace lifted up, folding her forearms on his chest, her gaze warm and captivating. Her hair fell around her, brushing against his cheeks.
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  “That or we think too much alike,” she said.

  Noah couldn’t stop his hands from tracing over her skin. “You think so?”

  “More than I would have thought. Are you sorry?” Her eyelids lowered when she asked, and his heart clutched.

  Noah cupped her cheek in his palm, waiting until she met his gaze. “I’m so many things right now. Happy. Sated. In awe. Crazy about you. A little hungry. What I’m not, in any way, is sorry. Are you?”

  She shook her head, and he could see in her eyes that she meant it. Brushing her fingers through his hair, she looked like she was gathering her words.

  “I’ve been fighting this since the minute I saw you on the beach. I told myself it wouldn’t happen but I think it was inevitable. I don’t know where we’ll go from here and that in itself is different for me. I always need to know where things are going. Where I’m going. But with you, needing those things comes second to how much I need you.” She took a deep breath. “And that scares me.”

  Noah shifted, moving so he was sitting with his back against her padded headboard. He put his arm around her, tucking her into his side. She rested her head on his arm so they could keep looking at each other.

  “I’ll never lie to you. I’ll never intentionally hurt you. I tried to fight it, too, but it’s too big.”

  She snickered.

  “Jesus,” he groaned.

  She covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry. Continue.”

  He pressed a kiss to the bridge of her nose. “You’re adorable. I don’t know how I ever thought I could fight what I feel for you. I’m going to ask Chris to cut your checks through our corporation, though, to put a little separation between the professional and personal. But even if I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t take this back. I’m better at contract language than professing feelings but you’re like my house, Gracie. Or this one for you. I can’t walk away. The pull is too strong. I feel like I’m finally figuring out who I am right here in this place, with you by my side.”