Grace
Thank you. Glad you’re there safe. Good luck with all the things you have to face today.
Noah
Thanks.
Three dots showed, disappeared, showed again. Grace’s fingers hovered, then typed, but he beat her to it.
Noah
I miss you.
A happy laugh left her mouth.
Grace
I was just typing the same thing.
xoxox
Noah
You’re cute.
xxx
She laughed out loud, marveling that he could make her do that from thousands of miles away. Hope glimmered inside of her. She wasn’t becoming Mrs. Kern, but she was becoming her own version of it, and that was even better.
* * *
“I feel like a kid at a free carnival,” Rosie said, her hip bumping Grace’s. Tables and booths were set up in long rows in the concourse of their school. Dozens of design firms displayed what they had to offer as potential employers. Grace and Rosie both had collected a handful of pamphlets and brochures. It was almost like the college fair she’d gone to in high school.
“There are so many,” Grace said.
“You won’t need any of them,” Rosie commented, stopping at a booth that read DESIGNED FOR YOU.
Grace smiled at the recruiter behind the table. They were located about thirty miles outside of Harlow. Most of the firms were at least that far away.
“You don’t know that. Things can change in an instant. Besides, starting from the ground up is daunting.”
“You’re not wrong,” the man behind the booth said. He wore a three-piece suit and his dark hair was slicked back. He reached out his hand and introduced himself. “A benefit of working for a firm is the losses aren’t all on you. You have capital and a team behind you.”
Grace thought about that as they wandered through the fair.
“Are you okay? You seem very … contemplative today,” Rosie said when they stopped to grab fountain sodas and share a plate of fries.
“Shouldn’t I be? I mean, we’re literally contemplating our next life steps.”
Rosie picked up a fry. “Or, in less dramatic terms, we’re checking out awesome opportunities we may or may not want to explore. Your worst-case scenario is you meet several of Noah’s richy rich pals who ask you to redo their mansions.”
Rosie smiled through the words, but Grace’s stomach dipped. “I don’t want anything handed to me. You know that.”
Rosie sighed, munching on her fry. She picked up a napkin, making the dip in Grace’s stomach deepen. “I do know that. Think about the flip side, though: just because someone builds off of the connections they have doesn’t mean they deserve it less. If I knew someone who could boost me up, help me start my own business? I’d be all over that. Would you think less of me?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Sometimes I think you’re so worried about proving you don’t need a hand that you hold yourself back.”
Sipping her soda as a distraction from the serious tone, Grace thought about what her friend said. “I’m determined. There’s nothing wrong with that. So are you.”
“I am. But when I was stressed out about the paper I was working on, Josh asked if there was anything he could do. I snapped at him that unless he wanted to make sure my mother got her birthday present in time, my emails were answered, and my bills were all caught up, then no.”
Grace cringed. “I’m sure he understands being stressed out.”
Rosie’s sigh was adorable. Grace was surprised cartoon hearts didn’t float over her friend’s head. “He does. He said to tell him what my mother liked, he’d grab it, he had no problem replying to emails, and if I gave him my bank number, he’d do the bills, too. He also said he’d pick up dinner. I burst into tears because I’d been so snappy and he was so sweet. But he said this is how we know what we have is real. We can see each other at our worst, build each other back up, and most important, rely on each other for anything. He said it’s when couples drown in their independent misery without reaching out, that you have to worry.”
Grace’s stomach tumbled. “This isn’t about me and Noah.”
Rosie shook her head. “No. But it applies to everything in your life, Grace. You’re not alone. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak. Picking up the pieces for someone you care about and letting them do the same for you is a sign of strength. What I’m saying is if Noah’s connections give you a leg up, own it, babe. Take it. Take it all. You’re no slouch. You work your ass off and no one is ever going to say life got handed to you.”
Grace clenched her teeth, then leaned forward. “But this job with Noah literally did get handed to me.”
“Because he saw your potential. He didn’t pity you or do you a favor. Let the people in your life help you. Stop second-guessing every step you make, because the people who love you aren’t judging you for the route you’re taking to the top. Which, if you haven’t caught on yet, is exactly where you’re headed.”
Grace’s throat tightened. She reached across the table, took her friend’s hand. “Not alone.”
Rosie tipped her head back. “Exactly!” She locked gazes with Grace, her friend’s eyes dancing with happiness. “Now you get it.”
“You’re such a dork.”
“You’re stuck with me. Let’s go grab some more pamphlets and then we can go through them all.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Grace had spent so long being alone, even when she wasn’t, that she was scared to lean on or into anyone too hard. She didn’t expect people to stay, but she didn’t want to push them away quicker either. Stop expecting them to leave. Have a little faith.
She grabbed her phone, not giving herself a chance to second-guess.
Grace
I look forward to you coming home. I have a surprise for you.
She had three days to pull it off. As they walked to Rosie’s car, she looked over and said, “You said to ask for help when I need it.”
Rosie looked at her over the hood. “I meant it.”
“Good. I need your help. And Josh’s.”
She gave herself a minute to absorb the ask. Look at that. The sky didn’t fall because you made yourself vulnerable. She hoped that meant she could take the leap, give her heart to Noah completely, without landing flat on her face.
41
Jack laid out the photos on the table, showcasing the various transformations Noah’s house had taken. In the last six weeks, they’d renovated his kitchen, the living area, two guest rooms, the powder room, the upstairs bath, and Noah’s en suite. Noah had done most of the painting in his own bedroom, but Grace had helped him pick the furniture and accent pieces to finish it off. They’d discussed ideas for the downstairs room. It could be a bedroom or an office, but Grace had different plans.
“It’s a lot of work in a short period of time,” Jack said, moving the pictures around.
“It is. We’ve had a lot of help. Thanks for coming to do a few shots of this room. I have some friends arriving shortly so we’ll get to work right away.” She’d already painted the room a deep blue. It was warm and inviting, which she hoped would pair well with her design.
“My pleasure. I love watching you guys work. I’m going to go grab a few of the backyard now that the trees have been taken out and the yard has been landscaped.”
That had happened the day Noah left for New York. A crew had arrived and worked with a speedy efficiency good money could buy.
Josh, Rosie, and Shane showed up at the same time. She’d told Noah this was what people, friends, did—they asked for help—but she’d been reluctant to take her own advice. She’d felt little wiggles of guilt but reminded herself she’d do the same for them. Plus, they were as excited as she was—thank goodness she hung out with fellow design lovers. Grace took a few minutes to outline her vision, and then they got to work.
While Grace and Rosie put furniture together, Josh took care of getting expedited deliveries on a huge tel
evision, a mass of books, the long list of games Grace had written down, including a PlayStation, an Xbox, and a Nintendo Switch.
Jack left sometime later that afternoon. He’d take the final shots another day, when everything was done. By late that night, they sat side by side on a kick-ass cozy couch, staring at the big-screen television that was framed by the custom entertainment unit Shane had whipped up with expert wizardry. They’d installed custom lighting so it could be dimmed for movies. There were a variety of seats, including the couch, beanbags, and a gaming chair. It was a decent-size room, even with the large unit that was filled with gaming equipment. They’d used the entire wall, placing custom shelves on either side of the entertainment unit, filling them with books and cool knickknacks that reflected Noah’s tastes. Board games sat on the bottoms of both bookshelves. On the wall behind the couch was a gorgeous photo Grace had blown up and framed of the New York City skyline.
“Damn, girl. When you come to play, you play hard,” Rosie said.
“I don’t think my hammer hand works anymore,” Shane said, his head back against the couch, eyes closed.
“Not something to brag about, dude,” Josh said, making them all laugh.
Grace was the best kind of exhausted. Noah texted to say he’d be home late tomorrow night. He didn’t tell her how things went or were going but she thought that was probably something he’d want to update her on in person.
“He’s going to love this room,” Grace said.
Rosie’s gaze traveled around the room. “If he doesn’t, Josh and I will come over and hang out in here.”
“I can’t thank you guys enough.”
“Two of us are getting paid, so that’s a pretty good thank-you,” Shane said.
Grace’s laugh ended in a snort, which made the rest of them laugh harder.
“Okay, baby. We need to sleep here or get going,” Josh said, getting up off the couch, holding a hand out to Rosie.
Rosie groaned. “Sleep here? There’s literally guest rooms.”
“I’m positive Noah wouldn’t mind,” Grace said.
“I was teasing. We’ve got our own bed,” Josh said, looking at Rosie with adoration.
Grace walked the three of them to the door, locking up behind them so she could head to her own house. She said goodbye on her porch, let herself into her home, and got ready for bed. The heaviness in her limbs felt well earned.
She’d been home only ten minutes when the knock came. Hurrying to the door, that addicted hitch in her chest, she told herself it wasn’t Noah. One of her friends likely forgot something at Noah’s.
When she swung open the door, her smile dropped along with her stomach.
Her mother stood on her doorstep, the moonlight casting a glow around her ragged appearance.
“There’s my girl,” Tammy Travis said, stepping into the house without invitation. “Exactly where I thought I’d find you.”
Grace’s shock swallowed her words. Her mother’s dark hair was brushed but thinning. There were traces of the beautiful woman she’d once been, but her eyes held the same callous cool that Grace remembered from her childhood. She had the look of someone who took too many hard knocks in life and expected nothing less. Nothing good.
“What are you doing here?”
Tammy’s smile was forced. “That answers my question of whether or not you read my letters. I told you I was coming. I’m here to see my darling daughter. And, because this house belongs to me.”
42
Noah let himself into his house, tossed his carry-on to the floor, and went straight for the stairs. He’d taken an earlier flight because he needed to get out of New York. Across the country didn’t seem like far enough away from his father.
He’d wanted to go straight to Grace’s, but it was three in the morning and she didn’t need the mood he was in no matter how much he wanted to see her face, touch her, kiss her, forget about anything else in the world.
As he wearily dragged himself from one stair to the next, he thought about everything his father had spewed at him. He bypassed the bed, heading straight for the shower. Under the hot spray of water, his muscles loosened even though his anger still simmered.
He turned off the shower, feeling cleaner inside and out. He’d cut ties. Screw the warehouses. Screw the financial losses. Noah wanted more than money in his life. He wanted happiness. He’d called both of his brothers on the way home. Things were going to be okay.
As he dragged himself to bed, he stopped short when he heard the gentle sounds of breathing. His own breath hitched. Was he dreaming?
“Grace?” he said into the darkness.
The sheets rustled and his heart soared. He no longer felt the urge to stop it.
“Noah?” Her voice was sleepy.
Noah crawled into the bed, pulling her close. “I feel like I conjured you out of pure hope.”
He felt her smile against his neck as he clutched her like a lifeline. She was real and warm and right there, ready for him to fall into.
“What are you doing home?” she whispered.
Home. Goose bumps trailed over his skin and not from cool air. “I came back early.” He kissed a trail down her neck. Just being near her shifted his mood.
She arched into him, so giving and sweet. “How was it?”
His hands snaked down over her soft skin. “Terrible. My father said if I want the warehouses, I’ll need to sue him.”
She stiffened under his touch. “Seriously? That lousy son of a—”
He smiled against her mouth. He loved when she got all fired up on his behalf. Loved. Holy shit. All these feelings … he loved Grace. As his fingers danced under her T-shirt, his mouth pressing kisses to hers, he went with complete honesty. “All I wanted was to see you tonight. I didn’t want to wake you, though, so I came home, but the truth is, it only feels like a home when you’re in it with me.”
His throat felt thick with the admission.
Grace’s arms wrapped around his neck. Her gaze found his in the darkness, her breath hitching.
“I feel the same about my place,” she whispered.
Energy coursed through him, and with those simple words, she pushed away all of the darkness. With Grace, he had perpetual sunshine in her touch, her gaze, her heart. It was, as he’d told her, all he could see. All he wanted.
Their foreheads touched, their uneven breaths echoing in the quiet. Her lips twitched, making his do the same. They stared at each other, which wasn’t easy given how close they were.
“What are you thinking?” Her whisper was accompanied by the brush of her fingertips over his cheeks.
“The same thing you are, Grace. Say it.”
“Gracie,” she whispered. “I decided I like when you call me that.”
He smiled, his heart pressing against his ribs. “Say it, Gracie.”
She bit her lip, her fingers stilling against his face. “You first.”
“Same time,” he said, his heart stuttering.
She gave the slightest of nods, which he felt more than saw; then they both spoke.
“I love you.” Their words overlapped. It was perfect. He couldn’t get close enough as he kissed her, yanking her onto his lap, burying his hands in her hair.
As he laid her back on the bed, she pulled away from their kiss. “I have a visitor.” Her tone was sad.
It took him a second. “Oh. That’s okay. We don’t have to have sex. I just want to hold you and be close to you.”
“What?” He saw her confusion in the slivers of light shining through the blinds.
“You have your period?”
She snickered. “No.”
He hoped she couldn’t see his cheeks heat up. “Oh. I thought that’s what you meant.”
“No. My visitor is worse than my period. It’s my mother. She just showed up.”
Noah couldn’t help but grin. “I thought I disliked my father more than you did your mother but we might be even.”
“Ahh. Nothing like two adults
bonding through their mutual dysfunction caused by their parents.”
“Fortunately,” he said, shifting over her, “there’s more than that that connects us.”
She smiled, pressing up against him. “Very true. I have a surprise for you.”
“It can’t be better than finding you in my bed or telling me you love me,” he murmured against her skin. “You love me.”
“You love me back.”
“I really do,” he said, his heart full.
She pushed at his shoulders, her grin playful. “You need to get up.”
“Uh…”
She laughed, leaned back. “We have to go downstairs.”
He groaned dramatically, still a little shell-shocked that his night had gone from the worst to the best in very little time.
Following her down the stairs, doing his best not to fixate on the way her short shorts framed her ass, he almost ran into her back when she stopped abruptly outside of the one room they hadn’t decided how to decorate yet.
“I wanted to do something special for you. I think every room reflects you but this one is for you. Completely.”
He’d never had anyone do something for him just to make him happy. You’ve never let anyone in close enough so they could try. She pushed open the door, turned on the light.
Noah stepped into the space and was immediately overwhelmed. It was incredible. It was a media room, complete with games, books, a kick-ass couch, and an assortment of cool seating. He couldn’t stop staring at all the little features that showed how well Grace knew him. The basketball signed by Kobe Bryant—his heart pinched—on one of the shelves, a baseball signed by Mike Trout. Gaming consoles, some of his favorite books. He turned in a slow circle, stopping when he saw the incredible picture of the New York skyline. He stepped closer to it, seeing both of their reflections in the glass frame. She was watching him so closely. Words escaped him. He loved that skyline. He loved New York. But he realized, as he looked at it, that it was no longer home.
Turning to Grace, he pulled her into his arms. She was his home.
How to Love Your Neighbor Page 27
