“It only took years to make it work.” Ali sighed and pushed her hair back from her face. “I thought I was going to have to walk away from him. And then, right when I’d given up, it happened. I’d stopped looking, stopped hoping.”
“I wasn’t doing either,” Trinity said, stroking an imaginary wrinkle out of the skirt. “I’m looking for a father for Micah. I don’t know if I want a man in my life. I wasn’t looking for this.”
“Maybe that’s the whole problem … you weren’t looking and it just happened.”
Turning her head, she met Ali’s astute gaze. “Yes. I wasn’t looking, it just happened and Noah—” Her breath caught. Unable to sit still, she rose from the bed and started to pace. “The first time I saw him, it was like somebody punched me, right in the chest. At the same time, I felt like I’d found something I’d been waiting for my whole life. Is that crazy?”
“I think it’s amazing,” Ali said quietly. “He’s … Noah’s just that kind of guy.”
Trinity came to a stop by the window and stared out over the yard. Micah was out there with Ali’s two kids. They were involved in some odd sort of baseball game. It involved invisible men if Trinity had understood the rules right. She wasn’t allowed to play, according to Micah, because she was a grown-up and grown-ups couldn’t see the invisibles. “He is that kind of guy,” she murmured. “I wasn’t looking for any kind of guy. But there he is. He makes my heart stop. I look at him and I want to jump him … I want to bite him and…” Then she covered her face with her hands.
“He was the youth minister at my church for a little while.”
Groaning, Trinity thunked her head against the window. “See? That’s part of the problem here.”
“I had a very huge crush on him for a while.” Ali chuckled as Trinity lowered her hands and gave her a narrow look. “And … then I got pregnant when I was seventeen. Half the people in church treated me like a leper. My dad talked about throwing me out for a while. My folks almost divorced over it. Noah…”
Ali looked down at the hands she had folded in her lap. “Noah was one of a very few who actually just supported me. He asked me what I wanted to do. I wanted the baby,” she murmured softly, looking toward the window where they both heard the laughter and shouts coming from the yard. “There was never any question of that for me. Even after Dad came around, he tried to talk me into giving the baby up for adoption. He meant well … eventually.” She rolled her eyes and stood up, moving to stare out the window down at her sons. “Dad saw it as a failure, you know. He thought he’d failed somehow—that he didn’t raise me right, or that he didn’t love me enough and that I had to look for it somewhere else … he never told me this, but it was stuff he’d say to Mom when he was feeling really down. And now he spoils those two more than me and my mother combined.”
Ali touched her hand to the window and sighed. “I had Joey right before I turned eighteen.” Barely graduated … she’d married Tim, and that had lasted all of six years. Right before Nolan had turned a year old, Tim had decided he needed to get the hell out of that one-horse town and he’d filed for divorce. It suited her fine, because she’d rather her sons not be around a father who had become more and more vocal about the fact that he felt he’d been trapped into marriage.
“I married their father because everybody around me seemed to think it was the right thing to do,” she murmured. “Noah was one of the very few who told me that I needed to do what was right for me. He wasn’t telling me that I should marry the man who’d gotten me pregnant because that was what God wanted. He said that I needed to do what was right for me and the baby. I don’t regret marrying Tim—if I hadn’t married him, I wouldn’t have Nolan. But I sure as hell don’t regret the divorce, either. Even if things are harder, just me, trying to raise two boys. But it’s what best for me … and my sons. Their father was never much more than a sperm donor anyway.”
“I’m familiar with the type.”
Ali shot her a look. “I’m not trying to unload on you or anything. I just wanted you to know that Noah is solid. You know how he is by now, I guess. He really is that way. It’s all him. I know you weren’t looking for him, but you found him. That’s kind of amazing.”
“Kind of. Yeah.” Despite the nerves in her belly, she smiled. “Maybe if everything wasn’t in such a mess, it would be easier not to worry and just enjoy the ride.”
“Life is always a mess.” Ali shrugged. “I’d say a guy like Noah is worth the complication, mess or not. Mess or not, I’d just sit back and enjoy the ride. Figure it out along the way.”
* * *
Figure it out along the way.
Trinity opened the door halfway through the second knock, with Ali’s words still echoing through her head.
There wasn’t really anything to figure out.
She was already all in, as far as Noah was concerned.
She’d made the wrong choices, for the wrong reasons. She’d gotten hooked up with the wrong guy and ended up with the right results—Micah. She’d ended up in messes not of her making and had to make hard choices—like testifying against her son’s father.
But for once, she was simply going to do what felt right.
So you’re going to do Noah.
The thought leaped into her mind just as he turned to face her and that was just not what she needed to be thinking as their gazes connected. The memory of the heat from last night swamped her.
Oh. Yes. She was just fine with doing Noah.
His eyes held hers for just a second and then dropped, oh, so quickly, down to her mouth. Her breathing hitched and lodged in her throat and blood started to roar and pulse and pound—
Then he looked back into her eyes and smiled.
“You look wonderful,” he said, his voice low and rough.
And … his eyes were distracted.
Her heart made one slow, painful thud against her chest and the knot that had lodged in her throat suddenly swelled.
Okay. What was this?
Trinity might not be all that up to speed in the dating game, but she knew when a guy obviously had his brain anyplace but on her.
“Ah … is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, and this time he actually looked like he was there.
Maybe she was imagining things. She could be. She was nervous, right? Nervous as hell and she’d already admitted that. Imagining things, trying to see problems when they weren’t really there.
Yet even as they left the house just a few minutes later, she couldn’t help but think, This won’t go well.…
* * *
He should have canceled.
Trinity would have understood if he’d called her and told her there was a problem with a friend of his. That was sort of stretching it since he didn’t really know who CTaz was, but come Monday, Noah could have explained about the forums. If he’d told her, then, that his head just wasn’t where it needed to be, she would have understood. They could have rescheduled and maybe she wouldn’t be looking at him like she wanted to be anywhere but here.
With him.
As it was, they were going through what was probably the most awkward first date in the history of man.
Technically, he probably did have to count this as the first date. He wasn’t sure if meals that included Micah counted as actual dates.
“So. We got the floor finished on the house today,” he said softly after he and Trinity had placed their orders, trying to find some easy common ground. Normally talking to her was easy, but just then words didn’t want to come. He didn’t want to chat, not when his head was full of worry and dark thoughts, and he didn’t want to sit there and just look at her when she was sitting there, wishing she wasn’t with him.
He was making a mess of this.
Her gaze flew to his, her eyes widening a fraction. “It’s done?”
“Yeah. We can walk over there after dinner and you can take a look if you want.” Okay, this was a little easier. Not the normal, get to know
you stuff that usually happened on dates, he guessed, but they’d been getting to know each other for a while, anyway. “Caine Yoder—he runs one of the companies I usually contract with—showed up today and helped me finish it. I thought I’d be a few more days on it since none of the guys I can usually get to work with me were panning out, but it’s done now.”
“Good.” She took a deep breath, the kind of breath somebody took when they were bracing themselves to do something really unpleasant. “That’s good. I guess we can go back home tomorrow.”
She looked so despondent about it. Reaching out, he covered her hand with his.
Just like that, some of the awkwardness of the night faded away. Twining his fingers with hers, he said softly, “It’s going to get better from here, Trinity. It has to.”
“Yeah?” She stared at him. “How can you be so sure of that?”
“Seriously, how much worse do you think it could get?”
“Don’t joke about that, Noah. Please.” She pulled her hand from his and covered her face with her hands, elbows braced on the table.
Well, damn. Feeling like a jerk, he shifted his chair around until he was close enough to curve his arm around her shoulders. “Trinity, it’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”
“I’ll let you be the optimist. I’m going to sit here and just prepare for the worst, okay?” She blew out a breath and then she flicked a look up at him. “In that vein, I’m going to just get this out. What changed?”
He stilled. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged, and although she didn’t physically pull back, emotionally he could feel it as she put careful inches between them. “Yesterday, you were just right here. Today, it’s like you want to be somewhere else.” She reached for the wine she had ordered and shrugged. “If you’ve changed your mind about going out with me, that’s—”
He closed his mouth over hers.
Swallowing the rest of what she was saying, he curved his hand over the back of her neck and took advantage of her parted lips, pushing his tongue inside.
He could taste the wine and it was a heady, sweet rush, but even more tempting than that was the taste of her. He could have that taste every day for the rest of his life, every hour, even, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Her hand came up, pressed against his cheek, and for a brief moment he forgot everything, everybody.…
Just her.
“I’m still right here,” he whispered against her lips, breaking away. “I’m completely right here.”
Her eyes held his as he stroked his thumb down the satiny softness of her skin. “I just…”
Blowing out a breath, he eased back and put some distance between them. Dragging one hand down his face, he said softly, “I just … it’s been a rough day.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Talk? No. What he wanted to do was go back to what he’d been doing. Maybe get her to leave with him so he could really kiss her. Stroke his hands along the skin left exposed by her dress and feel it as she warmed, then melted for him. That was what he wanted.
But …
His control was past shaky right now. He blew out a breath and lifted his hands to his face. “Not sure if talking would help,” he said, hedging. When he lowered his hands, it was to see her lifting her wineglass to her lips.
This was hell, seeing a drop of wine on her lips, thinking about how sweet it would be to taste—
“Well, well. Don’t you two look cute.…”
The voice cut in, grating, cool and so very unwelcome.
Next to him, he felt Trinity stiffen.
Everybody had a thorn in their side. This particular woman seemed to be a thorn in the sides of many and she reveled in it.
He could go weeks. Months. Sometimes longer, without having to handle the ugliness she wanted to push at everybody, but sooner or later she always reappeared. But why did Layla have to crop up in his life now?
“Hello, Layla,” he said, keeping his voice level. Showing her any sign of temper or irritation would only make her hang around longer. He’d learned that a long, long time ago.
“It’s been a while, Preach,” she said, giving him a wide, flirtatious smile before shifting her attention to Trinity. Layla snagged a seat from an empty two-top and swung it around. Her smile all but split her face as she sat down and propped her elbows on the table. “You two look completely adorable. You must be the new girl. You bought the house, right? Where they found the dead body.”
If Layla had been looking for a reaction from Trinity, she’d gone about it the wrong way. Trinity just arched a brow and inclined her head. “That would be me. I suppose that’s how I’m going to be known here, huh? The woman in the house where the dead body was found.”
Noah stroked his thumb down the back of Trinity’s hand. “I think Trinity works better,” he said. “Definitely flows off the tongue easier.”
“Yeah. I can sign it a lot easier.” She shot him a small smile and then looked up at Layla. “It’s Trinity, by the way. Trinity Ewing.”
“I’m Layla.” She gave Noah a slow, insinuating smile and her voice was all but a purr as she murmured, “Noah and I go … way back.”
“Do you, now?” Amusement colored Trinity’s voice and she stared at Layla like she didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or just pat the woman on the head.
“Oh, yeah.” She reached out and stroked her fingernail down the hand Noah had resting on the table.
He didn’t let himself react. Staring into her eyes, he tried to figure out what route to take here. Getting ugly wasn’t the right way to handle it—she’d just escalate it, and that wasn’t his way anyway. Ignoring her never worked.
Layla wanted attention and she didn’t care what kind of attention she got, as long as she got it. It was pitiable and pitiful, and normally he just felt sorry for her.
But any pity he might have felt died a slow death when she leaned in. “You want to tell her some of the trouble we used to get into, Noah? We could turn that pretty blond hair grey, I bet.”
Anger and disgust churned inside him, but he fought to keep it tucked away. “Not really what I want to talk about over dinner, Layla.”
“You’re probably right. She’d end up jealous, seeing as how you’re living on the straight and narrow now. That’s got to be boring as hell for her.” She slid Trinity a sidelong look. “You should have been around ten or fifteen years ago, sugar. He was a lot more fun then. Before he went and found God.”
“You make a lot of friends this way?” Trinity asked, pinning Layla with a cool stare.
“Excuse me?”
Trinity shrugged. “I’m just curious. You’ve got to have a pretty pitiful life if this is how you get your fun, running around and jabbing at other people.”
“I’ve got a pitiful life?” Layla jerked upright, hot flags of color riding high on her cheeks. “Sugar, you don’t know shit.”
Layla leaned in, hand outstretched, but before she could touch Noah, he caught her wrist.
She smirked at him. “Oh, that’s familiar. You have no idea how much I’ve missed it, baby.”
“Enough.” He put enough of a slap in his voice that her face went red and some of the people in the restaurant turned to look at them. Lowering his voice, he said, “Stop it, okay, Layla?”
She curled her lip, her pretty face twisted in an awful sneer. “Stop it, okay,” she mocked. “I’m not good enough for you now, am I, Noah? You go ahead and pretend that, baby. But you forget—I remember. I know you. I remember nights when you couldn’t get enough. Not enough of me. Not enough booze. Not enough of anything.”
All too aware of Trinity’s intent gaze, he kept his own locked on Layla. “I haven’t forgotten who I was, either. But I stopped trying to bury myself in whatever vice a long time ago. It never does help for long, does it?”
“Shut the fuck up, Preach,” she snarled, the lavender contacts she wore unable to conceal the rage, or the misery, in her eyes. “I know who you are, who you’ll always
be. You’re just the same as me. You can’t change what you are.”
She shot Trinity an ugly look and then spun around, swaying a bit on sky-high heels before she steadied and made her way to the bar. When she was halfway there, the manager intercepted her, shaking his head.
Trinity grimaced as the raised voices reached their table.
“Wow. What a sweetheart,” she murmured.
“Isn’t she?” Noah focused on the white tablecloth and tried to force his tight muscles to relax.
It wasn’t happening. The ugly, hot crawl of shame, something he’d thought he’d managed to overcome a long time ago, rose to take nasty chunks out of him. He didn’t know if he could manage to look at Trinity. She’d stripped herself bare for him, with all the grace and elegance with which she managed everything else.
But the thought of even looking into those misty grey eyes was enough to make him want to grab her glass of wine, toss it back and then get another. No. Something stronger. A lot stronger. The need was so strong, he could actually feel his hands shaking from it.
He should have found a way to do this sooner and he’d put it off. Apparently God had decided to give him a kick in the tail and force it on him. Throat tight, he reached for the soft drink in front of him, keeping his gaze off the wine glimmering in her glass.
He felt the weight of her gaze on him, and slowly he lifted his head, made himself look at her. Her misty grey eyes rested on him, but for once he couldn’t read anything there. She could have felt disgust, pity, a hundred things, and he wouldn’t know.
No more hiding, he told himself. He should have already done this.
She lifted the glass of wine to her lips, sipped. Like a starving man, he watched as the deep red swirled in her glass. Wine had never been his poison, but just then he was more desperate than he’d been in a long, long while.
Trinity seemed to notice his preoccupation this time and she offered him the glass. “You look like you need it.”
“Don’t.” He covered his face with his hands. “Don’t ever offer me a drink, Trinity.… I … hell.”
Leaning back, he focused his eyes on the ceiling, because it was the one place he could look that was safe, he decided. “Don’t ever do it, okay? I don’t mind if you drink and I don’t care if anybody else around me is drinking. But please don’t offer it to me. Because sooner or later, I might say yes. If I start drinking again, I may never stop.”
Deeper Than Need: A Secrets & Shadows Novel Page 25
