by Liz Isaacson
It turned out that actually using a knife and understanding how to use a knife were two totally different things. Sterling couldn’t make matchsticks out of carrots and jicama any more than he could rewind time and prevent himself from falling down a mountain and breaking his leg.
Norah seemed annoyingly amused by the whole thing. “You promised me a gourmet lunch,” she said when he huffed in frustration and tossed the knife into the sink. He cringed at the resulting clanging of metal on metal. “Don’t tell my mom I did that.” He glanced in the sink but didn’t see any marks. “How about we order pizza? At Berlio’s, they have gourmet items.”
Norah rolled her eyes as Sterling limped around the counter and sat next to her on a barstool. “No, look.” He swiped and tapped and pulled up the menu. “It even says ‘gourmet’ right in the title.”
She glanced at the phone, her dark eyes sparkling like diamonds. When her eyes met his, they hooked, held, harbored secrets he wanted to take careful seconds to unwrap. She leaned closer to him, and the tether that had drawn him to her from the moment he saw her dancing in the kitchen upstairs crackled with electricity.
He could kiss her now. Right now. She wouldn’t say no. He wanted to.
He leaned closer too, their breath mingling together. His hand migrated to her elbow, slid up her arm.
Her phone went off at the same time someone rang the doorbell. She jerked away from him, the barstool she’d been sitting on scraping across the tile floor. “It’s my brother,” she said. “Can you get the door?”
It would take him at least five minutes to get up the stairs, especially because he’d abandoned the brace that morning when he realized it wouldn’t fit under his father’s slacks.
“Sure,” he said anyway. Hopefully whoever had decided to make a house call would leave before he could get to the door.
Sterling cursed the architect, the designer, and the construction crew that had built the spiral staircase leading to the main floor. Steps shouldn’t be so narrow and steep. He hobbled through the living room and past the kitchen to the official front door. He paused with his hand on the knob, sending a rushed prayer heavenward that he’d taken too long to get there.
Relief rushed his body when he opened the door and found only empty space. Well, and a loaf of banana bread. He stooped for it, looked left and right again, and closed the door. Seizing an opportunity, he punched the “call” button on the pizza website he’d brought up earlier. It wasn’t exactly the opportunity he wanted to take with both hands, and his thoughts drifted to how Norah’s lips might taste, how her slender fingers would feel sliding through his hair, how he could get drunk on her from only her perfume.
With two gourmet pizzas on the way, he descended back to the basement, where he found the subject of his fantasies curled into the corner of the sectional couch. “Everything okay at home?” he asked.
“Yeah, Javier just wanted to know if they could rent a movie.”
Sterling catalogued that her brother—who had to be close to an adult—called Norah to get approval for something as simple as renting a movie. Norah, not their mother. To rent a movie.
The woman had more layers to her life than Sterling knew. But he wanted to peel them back one by one, experience her life and share it with her. The thought scared him as much as it excited him.
“What movie do they want?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” She reached for a blanket and covered her legs. “Sorry about Javier at church. I told him you’d be there, but I forgot to warn him not to act like a crazed fan.”
Sterling shrugged, though he hadn’t enjoyed the spotlight as much as he once had. “It’s okay.”
“He’s watched every one of your interviews. Every run that was broadcast.”
He squirmed. “Is that why you knew who I was?” He sat next to her on the couch, close enough to be friendly, but not close enough to kiss. Unfortunately.
“Yeah. I used to stay up with him until—”
“Until what?”
She shrugged her arms under the blanket, and Sterling had the distinct impression that she was using it as a shield. “Until Mama went to bed. Then we could watch what he wanted without her getting upset.”
The desire to hold her, smooth away the rough parts of her life, spiked. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Me too.” She inhaled sharply and caught his eyes. “I mean—”
“I know what you mean.” The moment between them stretched, solidified. “My mom is no picnic either.”
“Your mom’s great.”
Sterling really shouldn’t complain, though his list of flaws for his mother was obviously longer than Norah’s. “You’re right,” he said. “She’s great.”
Norah studied him, and he didn’t like the way she cocked her head. Loud knocking sounded on the door through the kitchen and around the corner, and he practically leapt up to answer it.
“Who’s that?” she asked as he walked away.
“We’ve had a slight change in the menu.” He tossed her a smile as he went to get the pizzas, grateful the delivery driver had followed his instructions and brought the order to the basement entrance.
An hour later, fully satiated with cheese and meat, as well as more root beer than a human should be allowed to consume, Sterling placed the Blu-ray disc in the player and collapsed on the couch.
“Cooking is hard work,” he complained as he lined up the remote controls next to him.
“You ordered pizza.” Norah had seemed to enjoy the gourmet pizzas as much as he’d told her she would. She ate the side salad he’d bought, and two of the garlic breadsticks.
“That slaw wore me out. I have no idea what shape I’d be in if I’d attempted to make those pork chops.” He leaned back into the couch and put his feet on the ottoman. “You should take them home with you. Javier seems like a real meat-eater.”
She tossed her curls and laughed. “He does love a good piece of meat. Not as much as pizza, though.”
“Well, I’m glad he has his priorities straight.” Sterling hated the distance between them, wanted her right next to him on the couch so he could hold her hand, or put his arm around her, or kiss her if they somehow looked at each other with the need they had earlier.
“You gonna sit all the way over there all day?” He could barely believe he’d spoken. Fire raced to his face, and he almost coughed to punctuate his flapping tongue.
“Where do you want me to sit?” Her flirtatious tone nearly undid Sterling’s composure. The composure he’d been trying to keep since seeing her walk through his door wearing a black skirt with a bow on the waist and a red and white polka dot top that hugged every line of her body.
“Right here,” he said, indicating the seat cushion beside him. “Next to me.”
“Well….” She made no move to scoot closer.
“I went to church this morning,” he said. “The least you can do is sit by me to soothe my wounded soul.”
She scoffed, then giggled, then slid over, coming close enough to snuggle into his side. She lifted the blanket over both of their legs, careful not to jostle his injury. He took the deepest breath he could manage, almost tasting the strawberry and rose of her hair. He sighed, more content with Norah than he’d been with anyone in years. Even more content than he’d been after winning the gold medal.
Sure, he’d been happy then. Excited. Overjoyed. But he wouldn’t say he was content.
He leaned his head back, enjoying the feeling of holding Norah in his arms and breathing in the creamy quality of her skin.
Several minutes later—or an hour—or maybe only seconds had passed—Norah hissed his name. He let the musical sound of her voice float in his mind, though he knew he should open his eyes.
“Sterling,” she said again, louder now, drawing him out of the doze he’d fallen into.
He opened his eyes and blinked, trying to make the room come into focus, to remember the last thing he’d been doing.
Holding Norah.<
br />
He still did, though she’d straightened a bit and felt stiff next to him.
“Well,” a man said, causing Sterling’s heart to hammer and his neck to crane to see behind him.
Rex stood there, his arms folded, the elbows of his designer suit taut. “This looks comfortable.”
8
Sterling scrambled to his feet, leaving Norah in a folded ball on the couch. He retreated away from her, the spot where he’d been cold. Her heart shriveled under the scrutiny of Rex Maughan, the man who ran the family’s real estate empire. Norah had been cleaning the cabin long enough to know who he was.
Rex, of course, had no idea who she was. At least she didn’t think he did. But then she heard him hiss, “You can’t be cuddling up to the help,” and all the air went out of her lungs.
The help.
Was that all she’d ever be?
Sterling pushed his brother further down the hall and around the kitchen, one fist curled and his eyes shooting her an apologetic look over his shoulder before he disappeared. Still, her insides quaked like someone had set them in gelatin and then shook her.
Angry snippets of conversation wafted back to her, and she wondered if either man knew the kitchen walls didn’t actually connect to the ceiling. Norah knew. She dusted up there every week. Or rather, she had every week except for the last two. Sterling had steadfastly refused to let her downstairs to clean, claiming he could do it himself. But surely he wasn’t dusting.
Norah stood on numb legs, her mind whirring as fast as a fan set on high. She didn’t remember telling herself to put on her shoes, or collect her purse, or fumble for her keys. Somehow she made it up the spiral stairs without falling to her death. The cold finally shocked her out of her stupor, and she realized she’d gotten in her car and was gripping the steering wheel.
“Just go,” she whispered while at the same time her heart begged her to stay. Even though she’d moved like she was underwater, Sterling wouldn’t have a chance of catching her if she wanted to leave.
But do you want to leave?
Of course she didn’t. Before Rex’s Italian loafers had woken her, she’d been dreaming of a kiss with Sterling, right there in the basement where they’d spent that stormy night together. Nowhere else would do in Norah’s mind.
Now, though, the basement held angry words, and awkward conversations, and so much tension it made Norah’s teeth clench.
Someone knocked on the window, and she yelped and startled toward the middle of the car. Sterling’s face took her breath away, which didn’t combine well with the thrumming of her heart and the adrenaline coursing through her.
He made a motion for her to roll down the window, but she hadn’t actually put the key in the ignition yet. She opened the door instead, still mostly numb—at least from the ears down.
“Norah, don’t go.” Sterling stepped back while she got out of the car, and he held his arms bolted across his chest, which only enhanced the size of his biceps.
“Come back inside.” He gazed at her evenly, making her heart crack. But she couldn’t be put back together with metal rods and physical therapy.
“It’s cold out here,” he said.
“It’s not that warm in there.”
Sterling flinched. “He left.”
“I should go anyway.”
He took a stunted step forward, fell back. “Please come back inside.”
She couldn’t ignore the desperation in his voice, the frantic edge in his eyes. She both wanted to follow him back to the basement and jump in her car and never return to Six Sons Cabin.
Of course, she couldn’t do that. Nancy Maughan paid too well to do a little dusting and a lot of vacuuming. Norah hated the siren call of money—just as much as she adored the way Sterling’s gaze clung to her, sucked her in, devoured her.
“Okay.” She sighed.
He smiled, but the action came and went so fast Norah barely saw it. “Okay.” He ushered her in front of him, allowed her to help him down the spiral staircase though his step was much more sure now. He kept his hand on her shoulder after they reached the basement and deftly slid it down her arm to her hand.
“I’m sorry, Norah.” His voice sounded like deep, dark, melting chocolate. Smooth and rich and utterly irresistible. Norah closed her eyes and savored the way her name sounded against his tongue.
“Tell me more about your brothers,” she said as she settled back into her previous spot on the couch, the movie long forgotten.
Sterling sat next to her, and the disgruntled look on his face could’ve come from a flash of pain from his leg as he lifted it to rest on the ottoman, or it could’ve been because of her request.
“If you tell me about yours,” he countered with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
A blip of fear made her heart skip a beat. But if she was interested in spending more time with him—and she was—he’d find everything out eventually. Too bad the very idea of him ever seeing where and how she lived caused lightning to strike her bloodstream.
She took a deep breath to summon that brave woman who wore little black dresses and let gorgeous men order her meal. “Okay. You first.”
Sterling didn’t know where to start when it came to his family. Being the youngest had always been hard, especially with five perfect older brothers.
“Henry is my favorite,” he started. “He lives in Washington D.C.”
“He’s the lawyer.” Norah leaned her head against the back of the couch, tilting her head at just the right angle to expose her slender neck.
Sterling licked his lips and tried to reign in his thoughts. After what Rex had said, any hope of kissing Norah had fled. Sterling had pushed his leg farther than he thought possible when he’d discovered her gone. He paused, remembering his pleas to the Lord to let her be in the garage. And she had been. And she’d come back inside.
Thank you, he thought.
“Yeah, he’s the lawyer,” he said out loud. “And surprisingly, he’s not the stuffiest of my brothers. His wife is a marathon runner, and they have three kids.”
“Why’s he your favorite?”
Sterling shrugged, though he knew exactly why. He just didn’t want to voice his insecurities out loud.
“Who’s your favorite?” he asked instead.
“Javier,” she answered without hesitation. “I was ten when he was born, and he was the cutest little baby.” A fond smile spread her lips, and Sterling reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear.
Their eyes locked, and the sizzling heat between them hadn’t dimmed despite Rex’s insensitive words.
“Henry’s my favorite because he told me once he wanted to be a police officer.” Sterling’s voice sounded tight and haunted, but he didn’t know how to normalize it. “He said he was proud of me for doing what I wanted to do, and not conforming to Mom’s ideals.” Sterling swallowed, suddenly needing a drink to water the desert his throat had become. “Said he wished he’d been brave enough to do that when he was younger.”
Norah’s natural beauty shone in her face as she allowed herself to relax. “What did your mother want you to be?”
“You know, a banker like my brother Elliot, or a surgeon like my brother Andrew. Henry and Nathan went into law. Rex runs my dad’s real estate firm. Something like that, with letters after my name.”
“You have a title.” She smiled, the gesture pinning her onto Sterling’s heart. “Officer Maughan, GVPD. Very authoritative. Regal, almost.”
He chuckled. “Right. Regal. That’s me.” He sobered and laid his cheek on the back of the couch too. Facing Norah, watching her blink and breathe and just be, a perfect sense of comfort threaded through him.
“I’m really sorry about what Rex said.”
Her eyes turned glassy. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I don’t think you’re the help.”
She took a deep breath. “I do clean your house.”
“It’s not my house.”
“You’re livin
g here right now, and your mother pays me.”
His lungs tightened. “You’re right. I don’t want to talk about this.” He straightened, wishing Rex had just stayed in Missoula. His brother had claimed he wanted to see how Sterling was doing—and Sterling didn’t doubt that. He just wished he’d called or something beforehand.
Would it have mattered? he asked himself.
And he hated that the answer was yes. Sterling wouldn’t have invited Norah over after church—he wouldn’t have even gone to church that morning—and he wouldn’t have put on a romantic comedy, cuddled up to Norah, and fallen asleep.
“Tell me more about the center.” He was officially starting his job at Silver Creek the next morning. He wouldn’t be working with a group of boys for a few more weeks, until the cycle ended and a new one began. But he’d become familiar with the horses and shadow the at-risk group to see how they operated.
As Norah started telling him about the equine therapy program and the role of counselors like her, he realized she hadn’t said much about her brothers. Part of him wished he’d asked about them instead of the center, but another part just liked hearing the sound of her voice, no matter what she said.
The next morning, Sterling’s stomach swooped as Norah pulled into the staff parking lot on the north end of the Silver Creek property. “It’s a bit of a hike to the front office,” she said. “But you can stop at the stables, talk to Owen, see the horses.”
He nodded, the thought of the animals comforting him. He hadn’t thought much about horses or therapy, but from his limited encounter with Blackjack over the weekend, he found them soothing.
Norah stayed by his side, and as much as he wanted to reach for her hand and draw from her strength, he didn’t. The winter morning probably had something to do with why he kept his hands in his pockets. Or maybe he was still unsettled from how things had gone the previous day. She’d left before dinnertime, claiming her family needed her at home, and Sterling had spent hours in front of the television, brooding.
Rex had texted and then called, and Sterling ignored him. Juvenile, maybe, but his brother had really put a kink in his budding relationship with Norah, and Sterling found he didn’t have anything nice to say.
