The Party Girl

by Tamara Morgan

  She laughed and pulled him in for another deep kiss. This one coiled and snaked around his insides, tugging on body parts that enjoyed a good tug every now and then. “I think you’re going to be pleasantly surprised by his recent transformation.”

  The coil tightened, this time held by a grip more of fear than pleasure. “Why? What did you do to him?”

  “I didn’t do anything to him.” Her eyes searched his, a hurt expression taking over. “He asked for my help with something, and I gave it. I didn’t push my controlling ways on him without his consent. I didn’t strip him of his essential manhood in my never-ending quest of perfection.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he protested. But they both knew it was.

  “He’s fine, Noah.” All the warmth of her affection was gone in an instant. He’d done that—turned her icy, dimmed her down. “It’s amazing what a man can accomplish when he’s willing to reevaluate his life, to make a few changes for something he’s passionate about.”

  The arrival of a second car had them both jumping to action and heading out to greet it. Being alone with Kendra was suddenly the last thing Noah wanted. His throat ached, and no words seemed capable of rising to the surface to make the pain go away.

  “It looks different out here.” Lincoln sprang from his car, his movements nimble and indicative of a fully healed body. “You changed something.”

  Kendra released an incredulous huff, which Noah promptly ignored. Not everything needed improvement. Sometimes Mother Nature and the restorative powers of time did things on their own. “It’s the wild roses. They bloom this time every year and girly up the place.”

  Lincoln nodded. “I like it. You should plant more.”

  “Agreed.” Kendra lifted her chin and looked Noah squarely in the eye.

  He didn’t bother to explain to either one of them that planting wild roses defeated the entire purpose. “Kendra says you have some news. Come on in, and I’ll see what I can scrounge up for dinner while you tell me about it.”

  In true Lincoln fashion, he couldn’t wait until they were all the way inside before he burst out with an excited, “You won’t believe what I’ve got planned, Noah. I finally took your advice.”

  “To stop applying so much hair product?” he quipped.

  “Not even close,” Lincoln said over the sound of Kendra’s laughter. “My hair will remain as awesome as it’s always been. It’s the rest of me that’s getting an overhaul.”

  That sounded...big. But all Noah emitted was a noncommittal, “Oh?”

  “Oh.” Lincoln confirmed. “I’ve officially decided to stop trying to fit in with an organization I don’t respect and that doesn’t respect me back. I’m making my own rules now.”

  “You’ve gone rogue?”

  “Hell, yeah, I have. You’re looking at Pleasant Park’s one and only private investigator. Well, that’s the plan, anyway. It’s a lot harder to get everything going than I thought. Kendra says it’ll take at least four months before everything’s finalized and I can open up shop.”

  Noah looked to Kendra for confirmation. She nodded once, pleased and unashamed to show it. “That’s assuming you can get the investment money in the first place, Lincoln. You need to have an ironclad source of startup funds, or it’ll be a huge headache later on.”

  “You’re finally doing it?” All of Noah’s concerns about Nikki and the loss of his job and the pitfalls of friendly interference disappeared in a blur of genuine enthusiasm for his friend. “You mean it?”

  Lincoln strode forward, his hand outstretched, basking in the congratulations Noah didn’t have to say to make known. Noah gave Lincoln’s hand a perfunctory shake before pulling him into a bear hug. He could count on one hand the number of times he and Lincoln had physically embraced, but this announcement called for more than just a handshake. It called for a celebration.

  “I’m sure as hell gonna try,” Lincoln said gruffly. “Kendra thinks it’s a long shot that any lending institution will consider me, but I have to at least put in the effort. I owe it to myself and to all the people who’ve put their trust in me over the years.”

  Kendra nodded as he spoke, and Noah could see that many of Lincoln’s words had been put there at her instigation. A few minutes ago, he’d have resented such an obviously intrusive approach, but this was the happiest he’d seen Lincoln in a long time. Possibly ever.

  “So what happens now?” Noah asked.

  “I’m going to talk to my guys—”

  “He’s going to talk to investors—”

  Noah listened with only half an ear as Kendra and Lincoln fell into an argument that, from the sounds of it, had the aura of being a familiar one. Since he wasn’t keen on stepping in without knowing all the facts, he gave himself over to the task of cooking instead, only interrupting the pair of them when he placed a cutting board and a stack of carrots in front of Kendra and ordered her to chop.

  “So demanding,” Kendra teased, though she picked up the knife and expertly julienned the vegetables.

  She noticed that Noah had been doing a lot more of that lately. Not demanding, so much as integrating her into his routine. Her literal presence in his home wasn’t something they’d talked about after the suitcase catastrophe, but she appreciated that he was making an effort. The Mason jar coffeemaker, an extra reservoir of sun-warmed shower water, a larger, albeit cracked mirror tacked up in his bathroom—she recognized the tiny concessions as huge gestures on Noah’s behalf.

  She also recognized that they were only allowed because they came from his own two hands. The second she suggested a change, brought a radio, implied that maybe it was okay to stop opening wine with a screwdriver, he turned himself off again and backed away. The dance of it all—the give and take and hide and pretend—was rapidly approaching a farce.

  But she didn’t know what else to do but play along.

  “Who are you contacting about financing?” Noah asked after something rustic and delicious and completely vegetarian bubbled on the stove. Diet was another thing they hadn’t talked about outright, but she noticed him not cooking—or killing—meat of any kind when she was over.

  Of course, rabbit carcasses still hung out behind his woodshop. They usually had their sweet little whiskers attached.

  “Who am I not contacting?” Lincoln shook his head. “Kendra shoves a stack of paperwork at me every time I see her. Banks, small business grants, retired cop organizations, you name it. I think she’s afraid I’ll hit up a mafia loan shark if she leaves me alone for five minutes.”

  She glared at him. Always so dramatic. “Since I refuse to be the one to explain to Matt why both of your kneecaps are busted in, I think it’s a reasonable request.”

  “What kind of figures are you talking?”

  Kendra cocked an ear Noah’s direction. His voice sounded falsely light to her practiced ear, his question more than one of casual interest. She’d spent so long with only his voice to guide her, she was practically fluent in his moods and tones.

  Saying the dollar amount out loud had a tendency to cause Lincoln to call her an annoying, painfully over-prepared money matron, so she wrote the figure down and slid it across the table to Noah’s waiting hands. No matter how many times she told Lincoln he needed to have six months of operating costs, minimum, in addition to startup funds, he balked. Noah, on the other hand, took one look and tucked the paper in his pocket. It was a very cool, very professional thing to have done—yet another reminder that the Noah she knew, the Noah who closed himself off from the world in so many ways, was only one small part of his larger self.

  By tacit agreement, they didn’t discuss anything of importance at dinner, focusing instead on the easy camaraderie they’d begun during Lincoln’s convalescence and worked out to perfection. It was a nice feeling, Kendra had to admit, to simply enjoy the company of friends—and
not just because any tension they felt now had to do with having eaten way too much ratatouille rather than suppressed longing in a triangular shape.

  But with these two, no feeling of calm lasted forever. They’d just swept the dishes away when Noah cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “There’s something I want to say, but you both have to promise not to freak out,” he said.

  “Is it about your miniature golf hole?” Lincoln asked. “Because I fully support any decision that adds to my entertainment. If you were feeling really brave, you could put in a putting green. Or a driving range. You’d never get rid of me.”

  Kendra raised her hand. “Wait—if we’re devising rural entertainments, I want a hot tub. If you dig deep enough, maybe you’ll hit some hot springs. They have those in Pennsylvania, don’t they?”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you both, but this isn’t about my house at all. It’s about the PI stuff.”

  Lincoln’s eyes widened even more. “Are you about to ask to be a henchman? Because that would be awesome. You can be my muscle.”

  Noah chuckled, and Kendra could tell that nothing was further from his mind. It was impossible to imagine Noah in a subordinate role for anyone, let alone a man like Lincoln. “Thanks for the proposition, but I’m not sure taking orders from you would suit me over the long term. In fact...if it’s all right with your advisor here, what I’d like to do is offer to be your financer.”

  Lincoln shot to his feet while Kendra’s mouth fell open in surprise. Of all the collection of words she expected to cross Noah’s lips right now, those didn’t even figure on the list. He might as well have been speaking Latin.

  “Really?” Lincoln was the first to speak. “You mean it?”

  “I don’t understand,” Kendra said inanely. The figure she’d given him was her conservative estimate, and even half that amount was more money than most people carried around in their bank accounts. Especially people who skinned rabbits for food. Besides—if what he’d told her about Danielle was true, investing in a friend’s business had to be the last thing on earth he’d jump up and move himself to do. This man moved at a snail’s pace on the windiest of days. “Why would you do that?”

  Noah shrugged as he looked at her, his face unreadable. “Lincoln needs money. I have some. It’s that simple.”

  “But...” Kendra protested.

  “But...” Lincoln repeated. “How is that even possible?”

  He shrugged again, but the fact that he wasn’t meeting either one of their gazes spoke to a lack of nonchalance overall. “I sold some acreage a few weeks ago. It’s no big deal.”

  Kendra felt the air leave her lungs. Those fields of rippling greenery and hidden vermin were as much a part of Noah as his limbs—possibly even more so. He’d willingly cut off a few fingers before giving up part of his land. “What do you mean?” she asked, as though looking for signs of bleeding, for phantom pains in his limbs.

  “The Nelsons have been after my back field for years—they want to expand their horse ranch, but most of the surrounding area is state owned. I don’t really use that plot for anything, but I always held on to it out of respect for my family.” He looked a reverent moment away from making the sign of the cross over his chest. “I got to thinking about what a waste it was just sitting there, untouched, yet another luxury I didn’t need. I figured I could use the money—”

  “Oh, fuck. Noah.” Lincoln didn’t sound the least bit grateful. He sounded pissed, actually. “You were going to give it to that trespassing asshole, weren’t you?”

  “Not him, specifically. But the money could provide some restitution. I don’t know why I never thought about it before.”

  “Because it’s a stupid idea?” Lincoln suggested. Kendra silently agreed. Surely Noah’s retreat from the world was penance enough for trusting a terrible woman. Even Kendra seemed to be paying a price for it—and she hadn’t done anything wrong other than falling for the world’s most stubborn man.

  Noah shrugged. “Well, regardless of whether or not it would have worked, I’d rather you have the money. You can do just as much good with it as I can. More, probably, if Kendra thinks you can make a go of this.”

  “I do,” she said automatically. She didn’t trust anything in that moment except her ability to make a business work, to crunch numbers into place and force them to concede. She grasped at them, afraid that if she didn’t hold tight to something—anything—she’d slip away from herself entirely.

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll have to go into town and talk with the bank, but I can probably get you a check by Monday.”

  “Oh, thank God. You hear that, Kendra? No more fucking paperwork.”

  Kendra made a mental note to get Lincoln a business manager as soon as possible. “On the contrary, your paperwork woes are just beginning. You’re going to have to decide how you want to set this up. Is he going to own the company and hire you to run it? Set up a loan repayment plan? Is it an angel investment? A partnership?”

  Lincoln perked at that last one. “What do you say, buddy? A partnership sounds good. Want to fight crime with me? Or, you know, hunt down cheating wives and moonlight for the local force? We’ve always made a great team.”

  Noah could have kicked himself for saying too much, too soon. Caution had warned him to take this idea slowly, to ease into it, but no matter how often he instructed himself to look before he leaped, he always seemed to find himself mired in something unpleasant. This time around, the something unpleasant crossed Kendra’s face in a way that was downright unsettling. He could practically see the dollars and cents speeding through her eyes like a slot machine.

  “Can’t I just give him the money outright?”

  Kendra blinked slowly at him, the movement of the dollar signs slowing to a halt. “Well, you technically could, but...”

  Lincoln clapped. “There. It’s settled. I’m now a man of business.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Kendra warned. “You can’t gift that kind of money without paying taxes on it or raising red flags with the IRS. And since you’re going to be working in the criminal justice field, everything needs to be done aboveboard, or they’ll revoke your license. That is, assuming they give you one in the first place.”

  Noah felt as if he was seeing Kendra for the first time. He knew she was more than just an esthetician at New Leaf. He knew she had an MBA and a level head and a way of forcing people like Lincoln to pay attention when she spoke of financial matters. But to hear her speak like this—to fall into an easy manner of authority—took him straight back five years.

  It makes sense to invest it with me rather than some guy you have to pay a percentage to, Noah. We’re building a life together. That means rallying our resources, planning ahead. You’re not doing this for me. You’re doing it for us.

  Had anyone asked him a few months ago if he still harbored anything but regret for Danielle, he would have said no. He’d hated that she took advantage of all those people, was disappointed that she’d let him shoulder part of the blame—but for the woman herself? He’d only regretted that he’d let her in.

  Unfortunately, he realized now that he’d been deluding himself. Facing Kendra, seeing Danielle in her words and assurances and efficient way of taking over and making plans, he felt a surge of anxiety take over. And not the superficial kind either. This wasn’t something he could work off in the woodpile or hope would blow over with time. The shaky fear rushing to the surface was as much a part of him as the adrenaline that fueled it. It was biology. It was the wisdom of experience. It was fact.

  There was no possible way he could put his entire trust—his whole life—in the hands of a woman he’d known such a short time. And he’d been deluded to think that he could.

  “I won’t,” he said, his voice faltering.

  “You won’t what, Noah?” Kendra asked, concern in her voice.
Concern and something more. Something familiar. Something mercenary.

  “I won’t talk about this tonight,” he managed, and even cracked a smile. Cracked is right. “Come on. We can play Yahtzee instead. I’ll make coffee.”

  “A regular night on the town,” Lincoln quipped, but he too seemed happy to move on to a new subject. Only Kendra—just Kendra, always Kendra—seemed loath to let go.

  * * *

  “I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.” Kendra stood in the middle of his kitchen, refusing to so much as move until Noah put on his grownup pants and listened to her.

  Lincoln had already left for the night, promising to go to bed early so he could begin looking at offices in the morning. Kendra had assumed she’d be staying over, but Noah wouldn’t even look at her, let alone kiss her.

  “Can we talk about something else, please?” He set his jaw. “My mind is already made up about this Lincoln stuff, and I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

  “I’m not trying to tell you what to do.” What she was trying to do here was remain calm—a task that took more energy than she had to burn. “I’m saying you can’t just throw money at this idea and run away to bury your head back in the boonies. There are tax implications to consider, and you have to think about Lincoln. I’ve been struggling for days to get him to see this as more than a lemonade stand in his backyard. If you don’t give him a framework for repayment or partial ownership, there’s a good chance he’ll spend all that money on a black market shipment of night vision goggles or something.”

  “Maybe he needs night vision goggles. He doesn’t tell me how to grow potatoes. Why should I tell him how to handle the criminal element?”

  “You’re deliberately misunderstanding me.” She could feel a headache creeping along the back of her skull and almost welcomed it. At least pain gave her something else to concentrate on. She should have never agreed to get involved with Lincoln’s plans—should have known she’d end up doing all the heavy lifting. Once again, she was back in the role of hard-ass. No one ever let her play the sweetheart, the nice one, the woman people turned to for comfort. Oh, no. She had to bust balls because no one else would. And then she got called out for it. “You know as well as I do that Lincoln isn’t the most levelheaded man in the world. If he makes a mistake—which is likely—are you going to sell more of your land to fix it? Get a loan and bail him out?”