by Lucy Score
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Noah felt stupid carrying two pizzas and wandering through the rows of trailers listening for the sounds of a party. He wasn’t even sure what had made him decide to come. Besides the fact that Sara was at her mother’s, and he was currently in limbo after submitting over a dozen aid applications and facing an evening of small talk in his own living room with a basketball game on.
Besides, Drake had insisted. And the truce was still on. And, if Noah was being completely honest with himself, he wanted to see Cat again. She’d kissed him today, knowing it was him. And though it had been the kind of kiss she’d just given her sister-in-law, it had stirred his blood yet again. And he’d left before he could yank her out of Drake’s arms and resume their alleyway make-out session.
So here he was, standing outside a monstrous RV that sounded like it was hosting a frat party and debating if he should knock.
He gave the door a kick with his foot.
“Noah,” Henry, glass of red wine in hand, greeted him warmly when he pried open the inner door. “Come join the festivities.”
He was relieved of the pizzas and handed a beer in the span of three seconds before Drake dragged him into the fray.
“Hey, man. Good to see you.”
“Thanks for the invite.” It was a chaotic circus inside the trailer. There were twenty people crammed into the kitchen/dining/living space. All laughing and talking at the same time. It felt like he’d just walked in on someone’s raucous family dinner.
He flashed back to his mother’s quiet, stifling Thanksgiving meals. As much as it crushed him to be without Sara on the holiday, he’d been the one to suggest that Mellody take Sara to her family’s meal. At least Sara wouldn’t have the same childhood shadows that he had.
“Guys, do you all know Noah?” Drake yelled above the general volume.
“Hi, Noah!”
“Hi… everyone.” He raised his beer.
“Noah’s turn to give a toast to Cat!” A girl with cotton candy pink highlights—dear lord, please don’t ever let Sara meet this woman—clapped her hands together.
He spotted her then. Crammed in between production and construction crews at the dining table, laughing. She’d washed off the camera makeup and, barefaced, looked so pretty he wondered why she ever bothered covering it all up. She was wearing a long-sleeve Kings Construction t-shirt that had seen at least a million washings. Her hair, still holding the curl from shooting was pulled into a high ponytail.
The joy he’d seen exploding out of her this afternoon was still there crackling visibly under the surface. It had been something to behold. Noah wasn’t used to over emotional reactions to anything… unless they originated from a twelve-year-old who thought he was being “soooo unfaaaaair.”
It drew him in. That brightness. He was pulled toward it like it was a magnetic force. She was so unlike anyone else he’d ever known. Anything he was used to. Even though he knew she’d undoubtedly rake him over the coals, he just wanted to see that brightness again.
Cat stared at him, more amused than angry for the moment. “I would love to hear a toast from Noah,” she purred.
Danger! Danger! His inner fight or flight instincts warned him. But Noah was feeling a little reckless tonight.
He cleared his throat. “To Catalina King, a memorable woman.”
“To Cat!” the misfit crowd echoed.
Cat’s lips, pink and glossed curved up. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Yates.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” he cautioned and was rewarded with an eye roll.
“Where’s Sara tonight?” she asked, sliding closer to the bearded guy with the nose ring as someone levered Noah into a seat at the end of the table.
Was she asking to show off the fact that she could recall his daughter’s name? Or did she actually care? “She’s at her mother’s, hopefully studying for her biology quiz.”
“Hmm,” was Cat’s only response.
The volume picked back up, and Noah felt himself drawn into a few conversations at the same time. What were the Patriots’ Super Bowl chances? Nil, since he was a hardcore Jets fan. Where did the pizza come from because it was awesome? A little place called Pranav’s Pizza run by an Indian man and his Italian wife. The curry chicken pie was to die for. Was he putting his money on Cat for the most epic Christmas Festival in the history of Merry?
“Noah’s reserving judgment on that one,” Cat answered for him with an arch of her eyebrow.
“If she delivers what she says she can,” Noah ventured, “it would be a festival for the history books.”
“And I will proudly rub your face in it.”
“Awh, look at you two getting along so nicely,” Henry said over the rim of his wineglass. “Paige would be so proud.”
There was a thump at the RV door and a disjointed chorus of “Come in.” The man who wedged his way inside was broad and tall and vaguely annoyed. He wore his dark hair cut short, and was sporting a Kings Construction hoodie that stretched across his chest. His frown transformed into a crooked grin when Cat whistled from where she was holding court.
“Gannon King is in the house!” Cat crowed.
Noah made a mental note to keep his mind clear of all things Cat-naked related while in the presence of Gannon. He’d never had a brother, but he imagined there was some sort of telepathy that would alert them to impure thoughts about their sisters.
“Yeah, yeah,” Gannon grumbled. “I’m the life of the party.” He snagged a beer out of Drake’s fridge.
“Where’s my Gabby girl?” Cat asked crawling over laps to hug her brother.
“Snoring in bed. Paige is ready to drop too. But I couldn’t not celebrate you going back to school.”
They clinked drinks and shared a one-armed hug.
“Proud of you, Cat. This is a big deal.”
Noah watched as color creeped up Cat’s cheeks. “Awh. Shut up.” She wiggled out from under his arm and Noah wondered if she was actually embarrassed by the praise. The Cat he assumed he knew would bask in the limelight.
“You want pizza? Noah brought some,” Cat made the offer to Gannon. The way she said his name so casually as if he hadn’t had his tongue halfway down her throat a week ago flustered Noah. And then he remembered he wasn’t supposed to be thinking those thoughts.
What was he doing here?
“I think I met you unofficially back when we were here shooting the first time,” Gannon said, offering a hand.
Noah shook it. “Right. Yeah. It’s good to have you back.”
“Glad we could lend a hand. We’re making some good progress on the residential side. I haven’t checked out Reggie’s diner yet, but the contractor on that job mentioned things are on schedule.”
Noah nodded. “Reggie’s excited that he should be able to reopen after Thanksgiving.”
“Should be a good episode,” Gannon predicted. “You getting used to TV crews all over town yet?”
“Nope. I walked into the grocery store yesterday, and there was a camera crew following Mrs. Pringle around in her scooter.”
“Couple more weeks, and we’ll be out of your hair.”
Funny how that didn’t sound as good now that he’d tasted Cat.
“Time to progress,” Cat called over the ruckus.
Drinks were finished with enthusiasm, cups and bottles piled into the sink.
“Let’s go, Yates,” Cat said giving him a push toward the door. Noah couldn’t help but wonder if Cat too felt the frisson of electricity when she touched him.
They filed out into the cold night. Fall had surrendered to an early winter. Not that Noah minded. Growing up in Merry, winter was required to be your favorite season.
They piled into a smaller, less-new RV, the quarters close enough to resemble a sardine can, but no one seemed to mind.
“Damn it, Eddie! Where are the snacks?” Cat demanded from the depths of the tiny refrig
erator.
The booing was unanimous.
“That’s what you get for working me late,” Eddie snapped back good-naturedly.
They’d already devoured the pizza, and finding a restaurant that was open at this time in Merry wasn’t going to happen.
“Ugh. Fine. I’ll hit the grocery store. But that means I’m getting things I like,” Cat announced.
“Someone better go with her,” a production assistant joked.
“It’s literally fifty feet away.”
“Yeah, but we want beer and snacks,” Eddie called out. “You’ll need extra hands.”
“I’ll go.” Noah volunteered.
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Cat or him.
“Are you two going to need a babysitter?” Drake teased.
“I’m not helping either one of you with the body,” Henry chimed in.
“So, dramatic,” Cat complained. “Two adults who don’t like each other can go to the grocery store without committing a murder.”
“Not when one of those adults is you,” Gannon pointed out.
Cat flipped her brother the bird and stuck her tongue out.
Gannon reciprocated by rubbing his eye with his middle finger. “Oh, sorry. I seem to have something in my eye.”
“I’m surrounded by comedians,” Cat complained and wedged her way through the crowd toward the door. “Let’s go, Yates.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“You guys are like one big, messy family,” Noah noted as he closed the RV door behind them while Cat zipped her jacket up to her chin.
She laughed, a silvery cloud of breath escaping with it. “We are family. You spend this much time with each other, and you end up bonding whether you want to or not.”
“You don’t seem to mind,” he pointed out.
She shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “I love my job, and I couldn’t do that job without those yahoos in there. They’re very dear to me.”
They set off across the parking lot.
“I’m surprised at how much they seem to care.”
“Jesus, Noah. Do you realize how snotty you sound right now? Of course, they care. They’re human beings.”
“That came out wrong. Sort of. I wasn’t expecting this when you forced me into filming.”
“I told you we wouldn’t screw you over,” Cat reminded him smugly.
“Yeah, but how was I supposed to know I can trust that? You can’t expect me to believe that every crew would come in here and care.”
“No, of course not. Not all teams are equal. Mine just happens to be pretty damn superior in every way.”
“So far they seem great.”
“You are wound so tightly I’m amazed you haven’t popped a vein. Why are you always waiting for something bad to happen?”
Cat was prodding at a sore spot that he’d only just become aware of. “I’m not that bad.”
She jumped, landing with both feet on the mat in front of the automatic door. The doors slid open. “When’s the last time you had any fun at all?” she asked, shoving a cart at him.
“Six nights ago, in the alley.”
“Hmm.” The look she leveled at him gave nothing away. “I was wondering if you’d bring that up. I couldn’t decide if you were going to bring it up and apologize or pretend that it never happened.”
She led the way toward the snack aisle. Noah leaned on the handle and followed her. The store was all but deserted after eleven.
“Besides some ill-advised second basing, what else do you do for fun?” Cat asked, tossing a bag of tortilla chips and a jar of queso into the cart.
“I’ve been busy lately.”
“Basketball on the weekends with the guys?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Whiskey club?”
“Huh-uh.”
“Book club? Darts? Karaoke? Running 5ks? Collecting baseball cards?”
“All nos,” Noah admitted.
Cat snapped her fingers. “Ballroom dancing?”
Noah grabbed a bag of pretzels and tossed it into the cart. “Do I look like the ballroom dancing type?”
Cat shrugged. “I haven’t seen you fall on your face yet. I bet you could show a girl a nice time on the dance floor.”
Cat King was flirting with him. Flirting. Another area he was pathetically rusty in.
“I read. I learn to make meals that Sara finds on Pinterest. And I work out.” And when he said it like that, he couldn’t have sounded more boring if he were a coma patient.
“Noah, you have to have some fun. Otherwise you’re just a tax-paying robot.” She stopped in front of the cookie section and groaned. “I want all these.”
“You can’t get them all.”
She pointed a finger in his face. “See? That right there is Mr. Responsibility. I’m not actually going to buy all of them, but you telling me I can’t have them makes that option even more attractive.”
“You’re like a teenage rebel. No one needs thirty-six different kinds of cookies.”
Defiantly, Cat dropped four packs into the cart.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Look, I’m just trying to help you out here. You use that attitude and logic on Sara when she’s a teenager, and you’re going to push her into the arms of an irresistible bad boy who’s one in-school suspension away from getting kicked out.”
“Why do you insist on giving me parenting advice? You have zero children.”
“You’re missing out on the best part of being a parent.” Cat threw two packs of Oreos into the cart.
“What’s the best part of parenting?” Noah asked wearily.
Cat knocked a bag of chewy chocolate chip cookies into the cart. “Watching them turn into their own people.”
She sounded like his ex-wife.
“What do you suggest I do?” he asked, half afraid of the answer.
“Maybe take a step back on the ‘do this, do that stuff’ and see what she decides on her own. Maybe lighten up a little.”
“You say lighten up now, but wait until you’re in charge of making sure another human being not only stays alive but turns out to be a good person,” he argued.
“Get in the cart, Noah.”
He blinked. “I beg your pardon.”
Cat nudged the cart into him. “Get in the cart.”
“In the cart?”
“I’m showing you how to lighten up. Now, get your ass in the cart.”
He stared at her trying to comprehend what she was saying.
“I’m not—”
“The store is empty. No one will see their city manager acting a fool. You can’t be worried about my opinion of you because I already think you’re a stuffed shirt with an attitude problem. And, I double dog dare you.”
Feeling like an idiot, Noah swung a leg into the cart. “Is this even going to hold me?” he muttered.
“Quit stalling.” Cat shoved the cookies and chips out of his way and crossed her arms over her chest.
He clamored the rest of the way in and sat, his knees hiked up to his chin. “Yay. This is so much fun I can barely contain myself,” he grumbled.
She grinned. “You look ridiculous.”
“I know I look ridiculous. I fail to see how this is teaching me anything valuable about lightening up.”
“Hang on to your frowny face,” Cat announced. She grabbed the cart handle and pushed off into a dead run.
Noah gripped the sides of the cart as they careened down the aisle. “Wheeeeeeee!” Cat hopped onto the bar that was meant to hold twelve-packs of soda and sent them sailing. The cart, its wheels squealing in protest under its load, lumbered to the side heading for an end cap display of salsas.
Noah was a split second away from jumping from the cart to save himself when Cat hopped off the back and dragged them to a stop. The front of the cart halted two inches from salsa destruction.
“You
’re insane,” Noah growled.
“I had fun once. It was awful,” Cat mimicked.
“Can I get out now?”
“Nope! On to the beer and ice cream.” Cat took off at a jog again and Noah crashed back against the cart basket.
He felt her hop on behind him, heard her laugh as the cart wobbled its way across the back of the store. Noah twisted around to see her. She had her hands planted on the handle and was leaning forward, enjoying the apparent wind in her face. Cat made acting like an idiot look like a lot of fun.
She slowed them to a dignified crawl when the cooler section came into view.
“How come you can act like this without embarrassment, yet when someone congratulates you on your school, you look like you want the ground under you to open up?” Noah asked as they perused the ice cream selection.
“That’s easy. I don’t have anything tied to driving like a mad woman around a grocery store. Nothing’s riding on that. The school? That’s my future and hopefully the future of hundreds of women. I was lucky. I grew up in a family that didn’t care whether you had a vagina or a penis. You helped out in the family business. I had the opportunity and the expectation to learn.”
“Are your parents involved in the business?” Noah asked.
Cat shook her head and handed him a pint of mint chocolate chip. He handed it back. “No bowls. Try something handheld.”
She put the ice cream back and pushed him down another cooler. “My mom worked in the office off and on. But my dad’s the academic in the family. He taught high school history at a private school in Brooklyn—if you ever see a hammer in that man’s hand, run the opposite way. My mom stayed home with us and helped Nonni with the books occasionally. It was my pop and nonni who were eyeing Gannon and me up to be the heirs apparent.”
“How did you go from a family construction company to TV?”
Cat grinned, dumping a box of frozen Snickers into the cart. “That was my brilliant idea. When Pop died, the company was already barely scraping by. The economy sucked. No one was building or buying, and we were within months of closing the doors for good. It would have crushed Nonni. Everything they’d worked for, only to lose Pop and the business in the same year?” She shook her head.
