Noah nodded. “How do you do that?”
“You usually do it yourself when you’re not overthinking,” she said as she began to rehang the neckties he’d tossed onto the bed. “So are you going to tell me why you’re so squirrely about going to your reunion?”
He shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to maintain a neutral expression on his face.
Naomi laughed. “Enough said. For your sake I just hope she’s worth it!”
Noah shook his head. “Get out of my room, please, I need to get dressed.”
Naomi was still laughing as she moved toward the door. “I know her friend Crystal. Do you want me to put in a good word for you?”
“Excuse me?”
“With Catherine. Do you want me to put in a good word for you? The twins said you were asking about her.”
Taking two good strides toward the entrance, Noah pushed his sister out and closed the door in her face. He could hear her laughing all the way back to the family room.
He shook his head. Of all his siblings, he was closest to Naomi. The twins were two years younger than he was but always had a unique bond that naturally came with sharing the womb with someone. He’d been six, almost seven when their baby sister, Natalie, had been born, and even then Noah was already filling that paternal role that none of them had ever had. It had been different with Naomi, her maternal instincts putting them on equal footing. He’d been protective but hadn’t needed to shelter her. Naomi was fierce, having an indomitable spirit like no other. And from the moment she’d drawn breath Naomi had been able to read him like no one else. She sometimes knew what he was thinking before he could even form the thought in his own mind. That sixth sense of hers could sometimes drive him crazy.
Minutes later he stood in front of his full-length mirror, staring at his reflection. Once again Naomi had gotten it right. Moving out of the room he found his sister in his family room with her feet up on the coffee table and a large bowl of popcorn in her lap. An episode of some reality show was playing on his big screen. He stood watching for a brief moment as two young women spat insults at each other.
“Why do you watch this trash?” he questioned as he shifted his gaze back to his sister.
“Mindless television helps me unwind.”
“Well, you got the mindless part right,” he said, shaking his head as the two women on the screen began throwing punches.
“That’s some rapper’s girlfriend and his other girlfriend. Neither one knows he has a wife,” Naomi said as she tossed a handful of kernels into her mouth.
Noah rolled his eyes. “Are you staying here tonight or are you going back to Norris Jean’s house?” he said, referring to their late mother’s home. The twelve-hundred-square-foot manufactured home had been empty since her passing. Although it had almost been a full year, he and his family were taking their time to decide what they wanted to do with the property.
Naomi shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet. I finished cleaning out the spare bedroom earlier. I need to start working on her bedroom but I might wait until Natalie comes back so we can do it together. Do you mind if I stay here?”
Noah shook his head. “You know better than that. You know you’re welcome here anytime.”
“I had to ask. I didn’t know if you were planning on bringing someone home from the reunion or not. You might have wanted to get your freak on in private.”
Noah laughed as he grabbed his keys and wallet and headed for the door. “Good night, Naomi.”
“Have fun, Noah. And you look good, by the way.”
* * *
An oversized banner welcomed the Bountiful High School class back for their high school reunion. Pulling his SUV into a parking spot near the gymnasium door Noah sat watching as his former classmates streamed inside.
He recognized Brighton Laramie and August Thames, both former members of the football team who were both currently on probation. One had done time for a drug infraction, the other for domestic violence against his wife. Noah wasn’t much interested in catching up with either.
Leslie Prentiss, the girl who’d graduated valedictorian, strolled hand in hand with a man he didn’t recognize, but he fathomed the stranger was probably her husband. Everyone entering the building looked happy to be there and excited at the prospect of reconnecting with old friends.
As he was about to step out of his car, an oversized limo pulled up to the curb. Everyone around paused to watch the limo driver move around the front of the car to open the passenger side door. Noah smiled as he recognized the members of Bountiful’s former cheerleading team: Brittney, Margie, Patricia, Valerie and the Three Cs—Crystal, Camille, and Catherine.
The years had been good to them, figures still tight, faces still pretty. Patricia’s added weight gave her curves like she’d never had before, and Camille’s very pregnant belly garnered much attention. The sight of them brought back a flood of memories, and Noah smiled.
The cheerleaders had teased and tormented him in high school. He’d been painfully shy around girls, and they’d found amusement in making him squirm. Even then he’d known that no one meant him any malice or harm but their frequent antics had made for many awkward moments. He watched as they all moved inside the building before stepping out of his car and following them inside.
The high school’s gymnasium had been decorated for the occasion, reminding him of the one or two school dances he’d actually attended. Black and red crepe paper streamers and miniature white lights floated along the ceiling. There were large round tables covered in white tablecloths and large, red pillar candles and carnation arrangements sat as centerpieces. A nice crowd had already gathered, many laughing, smiling faces around the room.
Bridget Wilson sat at the reception table in the entrance collecting contact information and handing out name tags with people’s high school images. The senior portraits were a reminder of a very different time in all of their lives.
Bridget waved excitedly in his direction. The two frequently crossed paths in their lines of work. Bridget was with the district attorney’s office and often referred him to young men and boys who seemed wanting and willing to work their way out of the judicial system. Noah had mentored many of them successfully, their futures now more about college and success than the trappings of prison initially promised for their bad choices. The two had dated briefly but nothing had come of it, Bridget was now married to another attorney.
“Hey, Bridget. How are you?”
“I’m great, Noah. I’m so glad you came.”
Noah nodded. “Naomi made me. She swore I’d regret it years from now if I didn’t.”
“Your sister is a wise woman.”
“Where’s Don?”
“That husband of mine refused to come. You know how anti-social he is.”
Noah smiled and shrugged as she rose from her seat to tie a red band around his wrist.
“This gives you two drinks,” she said, moving back to the other side of the table. “Is your email address still the same?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then you’re good to go. Have yourself a good time.”
Noah gave her a slight wave as he moved inside. The music was loud, a DJ playing all the hits from back in the day. Michael Jackson’s “Rock with You” vibrated through the air, a few of the women dancing in front of the stage. As Noah headed for a seat at an empty table, he was stopped in his tracks.
Tyrone Bellamy, Christopher McDowell and Sean Parrish greeted him with brash handshakes and gregarious hugs.
“Noah Stallion!”
“Yo, dude! Is that you?”
“Noah!”
“It’s good to see you guys,” Noah chimed. “So what have y’all been up to?”
“I’m still working at my dad’s hardware store,” Sean said.
“I’m teaching here at the high school and coaching the boy’s baseball team,” Tyrone said.
Christopher nodded. “I left Salt Lake City. I’m in New York now working on Wall Stre
et. What about you?”
“I’m working with the local police department,” Noah answered.
“Any kids?” Christopher asked.
He shook his head. “No. No wife, no kids. You?”
“I’ve got two.”
“I’ve got one on the way,” Tyrone said, a wide grin across his face.
“Well, I’ve got six kids.” Sean laughed.
“Six?” they all said in unison and turned to stare at the man.
He nodded. “Six kids, four baby mamas and three failed marriages, so no more wives or kids for me ever again.”
Noah laughed as they all nodded their understanding.
A loud scream echoed from behind them. As Noah turned, a petite woman with a blonde bob and bright blue eyes flung herself against him. The trio he’d been chatting with waved goodbye and headed for the bar, leaving him to fend for himself.
“Noah Stallion! I’d know you anywhere!” she said excitedly. “How are you?”
“Marilyn Hodges. I’m good. How are you?”
“It’s Marilyn Beeker now. I married Charlie Beeker.”
“Charlie, who almost burned down the science lab senior year, Charlie?”
“That’s the one.” She giggled. “And he’s still a pyro. He burned down my screened porch last year.” She laughed as if there were something actually funny about that.
But Noah laughed with her. “Well, it’s good to see you,” he said as he thought back to Mr. Milner’s math class when she’d regularly cheat off his paper and he let her.
From the corner of his eye he spied Catherine sitting in conversation with two men. He recognized them but couldn’t put a name to either face. He turned to stare blatantly. Marilyn seemed to read his mind.
“You remember Catherine Moore, don’t you? She’s CEO of some big business. I hear she’s engaged to be married to some European art dealer. And that’s Bo Wells and Mark Spencer. Bo’s a photographer now, and I don’t know what Mark is doing.”
Noah nodded. “So she’s engaged?”
“Yeah, but I told her marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” she said with a deep chortle. “Not at all!”
Noah smiled as she gave him a quick hug and skipped off to catch up with someone else. He moved toward the bar, walking away with a bottle of chilled beer. Moving off to a corner, he sat alone, still watching everyone around him. Occasionally, a familiar face would stop to chat, catching him up on what they’d done with their lives since graduation. Many had married and had kids. A few were living very exotic lives, and then there had been the select few who still had no clue what they wanted to do with their lives. After a while the stories all began to sound alike.
Noah had come to the reunion hoping to see Catherine and maybe talk with her more. Hearing she was planning to be someone’s wife had burst his bubble, and he was suddenly feeling deflated. He tipped the bottle of brew to his mouth and took a big sip.
He glanced down at his watch. It had been a good time and although it was still fairly early, he saw no reason to stay any longer. Moving back to his feet, he headed into the men’s room before making his exit. Inside, two more acquaintances were telling the same lie, both trying to make what little they’d accomplished seem like so much more. Washing his hands with soap and water, Noah wished both men well.
He swiped his hands across a paper towel and headed for the door. Outside the men’s room, he paused, staring down the school’s hallway at the long line of lockers that ran the length of the wall. He could almost hear the youthful laughter that used to ring in the air back in the day and it made him smile.
Standing in the hallway, he moved to the glass case that housed the sports awards, admiring the many trophies and mementos the athletic department had amassed over the years. He stopped to reflect on an image of him and the team taken at their senior class sport’s dinner. That time felt like an eternity ago.
With a deep sigh, he turned abruptly, heading in the direction of the door. As he did, he just missed slamming into Catherine Moore, once again avoiding a potential catastrophe.
She laughed warmly, her voice low and seductive. “You saved me again, Noah Stallion!”
Noah’s smile widened. “It does look that way, Catherine.”
“Please, call me Cat. Only strangers call me Catherine.”
“You look beautiful tonight, Cat,” he said as his gaze skated the length of her body.
She wore a knee-length skirt with a yoked waist with tightly pulled gathered material and a full ruffled petticoat beneath it. The color was dark granite partnered with a tailored white blouse and platform pumps in a bright floral pattern on a black background. Her look was stylish and sexy.
She smiled. “Thank you.” She narrowed her gaze on his face. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
He nodded. “I think I’ve had my fill of memory lane trips for tonight.”
She nodded but said nothing as she stood staring at him. There was a heated wave of energy that surged between them. Her gaze was intoxicating, and Noah felt his body reacting. He took a deep breath and held it for a brief moment before letting it out slowly.
“I’m actually headed back to the hotel myself,” she said. “Why don’t you join me? We can grab a drink in the hotel’s bar and catch up without all the noise.”
Noah’s gaze was still connected with hers. He suddenly felt like a snake being charmed. He nodded, completely possessed. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”
Catherine smiled. “The girls are riding home in the limo. I’ll grab my purse. We can take your car, if you don’t mind.” Her tone was commanding as she turned on her high heels and disappeared back into the gym.
* * *
Camille and Crystal tossed each other a look as Catherine rushed back toward the table.
“Where are you going?” Camille questioned as Catherine grabbed her leather handbag and guzzled down the last of her drink.
“Back to the hotel.”
Crystal looked toward the entrance where Noah Stallion stood staring in their direction. “Are you going alone?” she asked, her expression all knowing.
Catherine grinned. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I’m not.”
Her two friends both shook their heads, amusement painting their expressions.
“It’s about time,” Crystal said. “I was starting to think that all you two were going to do was stare at each other all night long.”
Camille nodded in agreement. “I can’t believe he’s still that shy. Are you sure something’s not wrong with him? I mean, you have been known to date really good-looking men that have actually turned out to be complete freaks. Wasn’t one of your exes a serial killer?”
“He’s not that shy and he’s not a freak,” Catherine answered, “and you know darn well I have never dated a serial killer.” She leaned to hug and kiss one and then the other. “I’ll call you later.”
“I know I don’t need to give you my ‘practice safe sex’ speech, right?” Crystal asked as she hugged her friend back.
Catherine laughed. “I think I’ve got this handled.”
Camille laughed. “Girl, bye! Just go have fun!”
Tossing them both one last smile, Catherine headed toward Noah, her excitement practically beating her to his side.
Chapter 4
Minutes later, they were careening down Poplar Grove Boulevard, just six miles from the Hotel Monaco. Catherine had rolled down the window, allowing the cool evening breeze to blow through her hair, the highlighted strands falling past her shoulders. There was a comfortable level of quiet that had settled over them, and neither spoke—no words were needed as they acclimated themselves to the emotion building between them. And something was building, the thickness of it completely intoxicating.
As they waited at a stoplight, she turned toward Noah, the streetlight illuminating her face. There was a halo of sparkle around her head, and Noah thought she had to be the most exquisite female he’d ever known. They both sm
iled again as they caught each other’s gaze.
“So how long are you in town?” Noah finally asked, breaking the silence.
She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I’m only here for the weekend. I have to be in Atlanta next week then back in New York.”
“You get around.”
She chuckled softly. “I do,” she said as she shifted her gaze back out the window.
“Is that a good thing?”
She shrugged again. “I never thought about it.”
“How does your fiancé feel about it?”
Her head snapped back in his direction. Her eyebrows lifted in amusement. “My fiancé? What fiancé?”
Noah’s eyes skated in her direction then back to the road. “Someone at the reunion said you were engaged to an artist or something.”
Catherine laughed. The sound was musical, a warm treble that filled the air between them. “I bet it was Crystal or Camille that told that lie. I am not engaged, nor have I ever been married. I don’t even have a steady boyfriend.”
Noah grinned. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Are you really?”
He shook his head. “No.”
She laughed again, and he laughed with her.
As he pulled into a parking spot in front of the hotel they kept eyeing each other, grinning foolishly. Noah felt like he was seventeen all over again. Moving into the lobby, Catherine led the way toward the hotel bar. Grabbing his hand she pulled him along to a cushioned seat in the corner, gesturing for the bartender as she reluctantly released the hold she had on his fingers. They sat down, facing each other, their bodies close as they shared the seat.
“What’s your poison?” Catherine asked as she shifted forward in her seat.
“I’ll take a beer. Corona with a twist of lime.”
“I’ll have a glass of white wine,” she said to the young man who’d come to take their orders.
She sat back as she rested her arm atop the seat’s back and leaned her head on her hand. She lifted her leg so that her knee was lightly pressed against the side of his upper thigh. Her touch was heated, and Noah felt himself break out into a sweat.
Stallion Magic Page 3
