At his motel room, he’d had them throw everything haphazardly into his duffel bags. Not like it mattered much where things were. “I don’t know. You packed it,” he said now, enjoying the grimace that flashed across her face.
“Fine, I’ll bring it all in and you can sort them from here,” she said.
“How was the drive?” he asked, unable to help himself.
She rolled her eyes. “That thing is a devil to drive, and you know it.”
“Oh, come on, it couldn’t have been that bad,” he said.
“You’re lucky I didn’t leave it by the side of the road and call an Uber,” Gina huffed. “If you make big money-winning sculpture contests, why do you drive such a piece of crap?”
“Hey!” He was genuinely offended on behalf of the van. “That old girl and I have been through a lot together.”
“Obviously,” she sniffed. But beneath the frown, he caught a gleam in her eye, a teasing spark he hadn’t seen before.
“Well, I need to go help start dinner,” Gina finally said when the silence had stretched too long.
Noel’s brain felt stuck. Here was the perfect chance to find something clever to say, something to impress her, and he’d choked. “Hey, before you go …”
She stopped, giving him a questioning look, and his brain churned frantically. Before you go … what? Tell me why you got divorced. Are you over him? When’s your birthday? Do you like sushi?
“Help me prop up my leg?” he finally said. Oh, good one, Hamilton.
Gina pointed at the stack of throw pillows on the bed. “You can’t prop up your own leg?”
“I can, but what if those are look-at pillows?”
Her eyebrows came together. “Look-at pillows?”
He nodded. “Doesn’t every mom have decorations around the house you’re not allowed to touch, only look at, and you’ll get in big trouble if you mess with them? I’d hate to make your mom mad; she’s being so nice to me.”
Gina’s lips twitched like she was fighting back a smile, and Noel mentally high-fived himself. He’d saved it … barely.
“Here, let me help you.” She grabbed several of the pillows and stacked them near the end of the mattress. “These are not look-at pillows.”
He tried to stifle a groan as he twisted to lift his leg onto the pillows. Gina rearranged them, helping to position them so the strain was off his knee. She was quick and efficient, but surprisingly gentle.
“Thanks,” Noel said softly.
Gina looked up, and their eyes met. Their faces were only a few feet apart, so close he could count the faint freckles dotting her nose and forehead. His heart started pounding entirely too fast. That had to be bad for someone just out of surgery, right?
“What was it at your house?” Gina asked.
“What?”
“The look-at stuff. Every mom has some, right? What was yours?”
He paused, thinking. “Things were a bit more chaotic for me,” he finally admitted. “We moved a lot with my dad in the military. Stuff got lost or broken along the way—you know how it is.”
“Not really,” Gina said. “I’ve lived here my whole life. Except for college and the years I lived with Lee.”
“Lee?”
She flushed. “My ex-husband.”
“How many years were you married?”
“Just over ten.” Her words were dry and thin, like old paper.
Noel nodded. He knew that pain. But it seemed selfish to admit that now, to take this moment away from her. “I’m sorry to hear it,” he said softly.
She was so close that he could smell her flowery perfume and feel the faint warmth coming from her body. Something stirred in his gut, almost like he was out in a huge crowd and suddenly recognized someone he knew, someone safe.
The house was quiet, peaceful. He couldn’t hear the ocean from this room, but occasional noise drifted in from the street—children playing, a few cars going by.
“You said you have kids?” Noel asked, working to steer the conversation to safer topics.
“Two boys,” Gina replied. “They’re eight and five.”
He nodded. He wasn’t terribly fond of children, but wasn’t that the way to every mother’s heart? Doting on their kids?
Wait … did he want to get into Gina’s heart? An hour ago, he would have said no. But now, he wasn’t so sure.
Gina threw a glance toward the door. “I should go. Mom said she’d bring you a tray?”
Noel nodded, grateful that he didn’t have to face the family tonight. He was wiped out. “Yeah, she’s very kind.” He was tempted to ask more questions. He wanted her to sit down and talk longer, but he also wanted her to stay far away from him.
“By the way, it’s the books,” Gina said.
“What?”
“The books on the top shelf next to the fireplace. They’re her leather-bound classics and are look-at only, no touching.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
She left, and he leaned back against the padded headboard and closed his eyes. He’d get healed up and be on his way. He would not get sucked into this world of normality that was wildly out of touch with his own lifestyle. He was a traveler, a nomad, working his way around the country, playing in the sand, and living from one competition to the next. It was how he’d built his life, and he was happy, mostly.
Besides, Gina clearly had her own issues, and he didn’t need any more baggage—he had enough of his own.
8
Gina was keenly aware that Noel was in the house; sometimes she heard his deep voice filtering up the stairs to her room when he was talking and laughing with her parents or her boys. Jordan and Arthur had met him the day after he arrived, and so far, all she’d heard were glowing reviews: Noel was funny, Noel was cool, Noel had a Nintendo Switch and they’d played games together … He’d suddenly become a fixture and sometimes it felt like he’d been there a lot longer than a week.
Gina had kept her distance. She left for work early and came home late. There was plenty to do at the office and her mother didn’t mind watching the boys while she worked. She could definitely use the extra money.
But who was she kidding? She stayed at work so she wouldn’t have to see Noel.
His presence was unnerving. Not exactly unwelcome, but definitely unsettling. When she was home, her senses were on high alert, listening for the shuffle-thump as he began putting weight on his knee and walking around the house. Deliberately defying his doctor’s orders according to her mother.
His shoes were by the door. When she did the dishes at night, she wondered which ones Noel had used. Did he wipe his plate clean with his last bite of garlic bread the way her father did, or had he used a fork? Which lip prints were his on the edge of the glass?
She didn’t want to think about it too much. Thinking about Noel sent her pulse hammering. Sometimes she caught a new scent in the house that she knew was his—a tangy, spicy blend that made her mouth go dry and filled her heart with longing. She’d thought a lot about their conversation the first night. She’d seen the look in his gray eyes when she’d mentioned her divorce—a subtle understanding, a sense of amity and acceptance. So she avoided him, because things were complicated enough without inviting a crush on the guy she’d hit with her car. A crush that would be far too easy to develop and way too hard to drop.
It was Friday afternoon and Gina had work to do in the office, but it had been a long week and she was exhausted. She sat at the kitchen counter, peeling shrimp for dinner. Her shoulders ached with tension.
“When’s he leaving again?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” her mother said. “It depends on what the therapist says.”
“But he’s walking, right?”
Her mother’s mouth was set in a tight line. “Yes, and I think he’s overdoing it.”
“Am not,” Noel said.
Gina whipped around as Noel limped toward them. He wore a pair of loose gray shorts and a black T-shirt. The heavy brace
covered most of his right leg, but the left was bare, revealing a sprinkling of dark hair. He used a pair of forearm crutches and his biceps tensed and rounded with his weight as he came toward them, thumping across the wood floor. He was unshaven and his hair hung loose, brushing against his cheeks with the rhythm of his strides.
“Don’t listen to her.” He tipped his head toward Gina’s mom. “My physical therapist says I’m doing really well.”
“Pffft! Big talk since you haven’t even been to the physical therapist yet,” Gina’s mother huffed. “Your first appointment isn’t for another week.”
“You’re my physical therapist,” Noel said.
Her mother’s face lit up in a smile. She might have started this as a mission of mercy, but Gina could tell she’d grown truly fond of Noel.
“Take a seat, you big goof,” her mother prodded, and Noel folded himself onto the stool at Gina’s side.
“Hey, you,” he said, turning to her. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I’ve been working.”
“You work a lot,” he said.
“It’s the way I make my living,” Gina shrugged, trying to stay casual. Her stomach was doing cartwheels, and her mouth was dry. She tried to think of something else to say and came up blank. It felt like she was fifteen again and struggling to talk to a cute boy.
“Oh dear,” her mother said from the stove. “I’m out of Old Bay, and I need it for the shrimp.” She held up the empty tin of seasoning.
Gina didn’t need to be asked. “I’ll get it,” she volunteered, jumping up from the stool. “Need anything else?”
“Some onions and maybe more orange juice,” her mother said. “Can you think of anything you need, Noel?”
“I’d like to come along, if that’s okay,” he said, giving Gina a long, steady look.
Her heart dropped. She’d volunteered for the errand specifically to get away from Noel. “You can’t even walk,” she said.
“I’ll stay in the car,” he replied. “It’d just be nice to get out of the house for a little while, get some fresh air.”
“Great idea,” Gina’s mother said. “And it will give me time to finish the potatoes. Take your time, you two.” Her smile was a bit too wily.
Gina rolled her eyes and plucked her car keys from the hook on the bulletin board. What were they going to talk about the whole trip to the store and back? “We’ll take my car,” she said. “In the driveway.”
As Noel circled her car, she saw his eyes go to the dent in the bumper—the one made by his leg. He didn’t say anything, merely slid into the passenger seat and wiped at the sweat on his forehead.
“You okay?” Gina asked.
“Yeah. Just tired. You wouldn’t think trying to walk would zap my strength, but man. It stinks.”
“I believe it. I sprained my ankle in the surf once and I was wrecked for weeks.” Gina glanced at the brace on his leg. It was big and intimidating. She shuddered to think of the mess of scar tissue beneath it. The surgeon had had to open up his knee and use screws to secure the ligaments. “Are you in pain?” she asked. Her voice was faint, almost timid, and her heartbeat thundered in her chest like a trapped animal. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Does it hurt?”
“Not right now, thanks to the meds.”
She steered out of the driveway and took a left, heading for downtown. “What are you on? Opioids?”
Noel made a face. “Nah. Just some good old anti-inflammatories.”
“Is that strong enough?”
“I’m not saying it doesn’t hurt,” Noel clarified. “But opioids and I have a bad relationship, so I stay away from them.”
“But you don’t stay away from alcohol?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Flashes of the night of the accident came back: his chalk-white face against the asphalt, the stink of booze on his breath …
Noel’s left fist tightened around the handle of his crutches. “I guess I deserved that,” he said evenly.
Gina had been expecting a fight, but this was worse. Clearly, she’d hit a nerve. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was uncalled for. I … I didn’t mean it.”
He tipped his head to look at her. “Yes, you did.”
“Okay, maybe I did. But it’s none of my business anyway.”
“Yeah, especially since the police report arrived,” he muttered.
She braked at the light, and they sat in awkward silence for a long moment. Ben had delivered the official police report yesterday. Technically, it was in the mail to both of them, but Ben knew the guys on the force near Cinnamon Hills and had been able to get a copy early. Noel’s blood alcohol level had come back three times over the legal limit for driving, settling the matter once and for all. He’d been at fault, and Gina couldn’t possibly have avoided the accident.
“But what does it mean for you?” Gina asked. As relieved as she’d been to be cleared of blame, Noel’s medical bills had to be huge.
He shrugged. “I’ll figure something out. Hopefully, I can make the competition at the end of the month.”
“In New Orleans? You were serious?”
“It’s the way I make my living,” Noel said, echoing her earlier statement.
“But how are you …” She trailed off. It was none of her business. Besides, the sooner he was on his way to New Orleans and out of her life, the better. Right?
She pulled into the market and found a parking spot. “I’ll leave the keys in case you want to roll up the windows,” she said. “Need anything while I’m in there?”
Noel shook his head. “I’m good. I’ll just enjoy the breeze.”
She went into the store, browsing the familiar aisles until she found the items her mother needed. When she got back to the car, she found a woman standing by the passenger window. The woman had a pair of sunglasses perched on her head and stood with her weight on one leg, her hip cocked to the side. As Gina drew closer, she recognized June, one of the most popular servers at Sweet Caroline’s.
“Hey there, Gina, I’ve been saying howdy to our new friend,” June said. She eyed the single grocery bag in Gina’s hands. “Noel said you were just running in for a thing or two, and I’ll be darned if he isn’t right. Not like me—I can’t go into a grocery store without coming out with half the candy aisle.”
Noel nodded. “I could go for some Hot Tamales right about now.”
Gina looked at him curiously. There was something different about him.
“Now see?” June sent him a wink. “I knew you’d fit right in around here. Hot Tamales are one of my favorites. And the candy version ain’t bad either.”
“How’re you doing, June?” Gina asked.
“Doing fine, sugar, except y’all never come in to see me,” June said. “Those two boys of yours are sweet as caramel apples. Always ‘yes, ma’am’ and ‘no, ma’am’ when they’re in the diner. A sure sign their mama is raising them right.” She gave Gina an approving nod.
“They keep begging me for key lime pie,” Gina admitted.
“Well, then, what are y’all waiting for?” June scolded. “We’ve got plenty, so you get those boys in there. And bring this handsome devil too. Heaven knows he could use some fattening up.” She sighed and flicked a strand of hair away from her face as she turned to Noel, “Now, Miss Marjorie told me all about your accident, and I reckon that was a heaping serving of bad luck there. Are you going to be all right, sugar?”
Gina realized what was different: Noel was smiling. He had a fantastic smile, slightly crooked, with a little glimmer in his eyes that hinted at mischief. Her stomach did a flip.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured June. “Back to normal in no time.”
“Not too fast, you hear?” June said. “No sense pushing too hard, or you’ll end up like a one-legged cowboy in a butt-kicking contest—flat on your face and losing.”
Noel burst into laughter, a deep, rich sound that reverberated through the air. Gina felt something relax between her shoulde
r blades, like muscles wound too tight had suddenly released. “I haven’t heard that one before,” Noel admitted.
“Oh, phooey.” June waved his words away. “I got a heap of old sayings that never amounted to a hill of beans.” She reached through the open window and patted his shoulder. “Now you let me know if there’s anything you need, though I’m sure Gina and Miss Marjorie are taking good care of you.”
“Yes, they are,” Noel agreed. “And when I get all healed up, I’ll stop in for some of that pie.”
June winked at him. “I’ll keep a piece back just for you, sugar.” She waved to Gina and hitched her oversize bag onto her shoulder as she headed toward the store.
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t have worried about you being lonely,” Gina said. She slid into the driver’s seat and leaned to put the grocery bag in the back. “I’m gone ten minutes and come out to find you flirting with June.”
“She’s a real sweetheart,” Noel admitted.
A dart of something sour shot through Gina, like biting into a lime. But that was stupid. June wasn’t old, exactly, but she was well out of Noel’s range. Probably. And they weren’t really flirting. Gina knew from plenty of trips to Sweet Caroline’s that June treated everyone like a long-lost friend.
And even if they were flirting, why should it matter to her?
“It was good to see you smiling,” Gina said. More than good. Noel’s smile had transformed him. Just as the haircut and shave had turned him from a homeless bum into a handsome stranger, Noel’s smile had added another facet to his personality. There’d been something a little shy and even slightly roguish in his smile, and Gina found herself wanting to see it again.
“Do it,” she commanded, turning to him.
“Do what?”
“Smile again.”
His eyes widened. “What? Why?”
“You have a nice smile. I want to see it again,” Gina said.
His lips lifted in a smile that was completely fake and wrong.
“Not like that,” Gina said. “Give me a real one.”
Noel threw his hands into the air. “I can’t just smile on command.”
Sweet Noel Page 6
