He shook his head. “Mom and Steve—that’s my stepdad—are going on a cruise this year. She’s always wanted to go on a Caribbean cruise.”
It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself to be happy for her. Poor Noah, alone at Christmas.
He might protest that he preferred to be alone, but she was starting to see through the lie.
Before she could ask whether he wanted to spend the day with her and the kids, a nurse opened the waiting room door and called her name.
Beside her, Noah's feet shifted with nervous energy. "I'll wait here."
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to go with her, but his knuckles had tightened on the armrest of his chair, and she wasn't sure whether it would make things worse if he had to sit in an exam room with her versus just waiting in the waiting area. If it was bad news, hearing it on her own would give her a minute to regain composure.
She chickened out, following the nurse on her own.
* * *
It was the antiseptic smell that was getting to him.
They must've just had a cleaning crew come in overnight, because the smell was more intense than it had been a week ago. So intense that the coffee he'd downed in the car was threatening to make a reappearance.
The scent was what he remembered so vividly from the first time he'd woken up after the surgery that had saved his life. He'd known something was wrong.
He couldn't remember who all had been in the room. At least one nurse, one kindly lady about his mother’s age who had clutched his hand tightly and assured him that he was alive.
Later, he'd heard the same nurse tell Mom that the vision loss was permanent. They'd left it to Mom to break the news to him.
He'd had to work through the trauma of those first few days, the injuries he sustained and coming in and out of consciousness. And then there was the grief over losing his sight.
His mom had forced him to talk. When he wouldn't talk to her, it had been to a therapist. Sometimes, he still grieved for his lost vision. Who wouldn't? It seemed like everything in the whole world was built for sighted people.
Jilly's talk about Christmas decorations had been a good distraction. With his mom planning to be gone, he'd had Aiden mail her gift, and he hadn't thought further about the holiday. He had no plans.
But now that he'd opened the door a crack, should he be thinking about purchasing gifts for Jilly and the kids? Friends exchanged gifts. He'd put himself firmly in the friend category by coming with Jilly this morning.
He started tapping out a message to Aiden but was interrupted when a door opened and closed.
That had been too fast. Was it bad news?
Footsteps approached.
"Hey." Jilly.
She was breathless and pressed a shaking hand into his shoulder.
He didn't jump this time. He was trying hard not to crave her touch.
She swallowed audibly. "Let's get out of here."
He stood and followed her. She was acting weird. Without any context, he didn't know if she was happy or upset.
"Bad news?" He reached for her, connecting with her elbow, and all it took was a little tug to stop her before she reached the door.
She turned toward him, and he could feel the warmth from her body, the jittery energy coming off of her.
"Tell me," he ordered.
"I'm clear. It was clear. The cancer isn't back."
Her voice was shaking with emotion. Joy, he realized.
And it spiraled through him, too. So much so that he couldn't contain it and crushed her to his chest in a hug.
He'd meant for it to stay platonic, but her arms came around his neck. When he bent his head, his jaw brushed the apple of her cheek. He froze.
But she didn't. She pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. And then another. Properly against his lips.
He was no dummy. He fell into the moment with abandon, accepting her kiss. Returning it. Exploring the contours of her lips, the softness that he'd dreamed about every night since they shared their first.
She pulled away first, breathing hard. He wanted to protest, or to kiss her all over again, but she raised on tiptoe and whispered in his ear, "The receptionist is watching us."
He couldn't care less, but if PDA was a deal-breaker for Jilly, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable.
He let his arms fall away. But this time, instead of taking his arm to lead him out of the office, she linked their hands. Her fingers slid between his in a way that shouldn't be unbearably sexy, but was. He held his cane loosely in his opposite hand.
His mind was reeling as they walked together to the parking lot. She'd been the one to push him away last time, but just now, when he'd been frozen, she was the one to initiate the kiss.
Had it simply been borne of relief? She'd been shaken, emotional as she left the doctor's office. Did her silence now mean she was embarrassed that she'd given in to her emotion? Was he going to get the friends speech all over again?
He didn't even know how to ask her. He was so out of practice at anything resembling a relationship. His knowledge was outdated, from high school when girls were more worried about clothes and grades than raising kids and making ends meet. What if he was reading this all wrong?
"This is me." She squeezed his hand, stopped walking. He realized they'd crossed the parking lot already.
"I think we need to do something to celebrate" His voice was so rough that he had to clear his throat.
"I have the perfect idea."
He was a little frightened by the glee in her voice, but he got in the car anyway.
* * *
"You're joking." Noah's expression was a mix of consternation and amusement that made Jilly want to laugh.
They were standing in the parking lot of the local big box store, which had a dwindling supply of fresh cut Christmas trees. “This is payback for the whole Aiden thing, right?"
She did laugh. "The kids are going to keep visiting Honey Bear. They should be able to see some decorations. Besides, you need a little more Christmas spirit."
He crossed his arms. "You say that like I'm Scrooge or something."
"Or something."
She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and tugged until he dropped his arm. She slid both hands down the length of his arm, possibly enjoying the feel of his muscles beneath her palms a little too much. All the way down to his wrist. She raised his hand and reached out so that his palm just brushed the balsam fir that they were standing in front of.
"Feel how soft it is? Doesn't it smell good?"
"All I can smell is exhaust." He wrinkled his nose. "And I don't know about soft. I’m considering how scratched up my arms are going to get when Honey climbs up this thing and has to be rescued."
She pretended like she hadn't thought about that and heaved an exaggerated sigh. "If you secure it to the wall, she won't be able to knock it over. We'll get some shatterproof ornaments."
"And when she electrocutes herself by chewing on the strand of lights? That would for sure put your kids in the Christmas spirit."
Stubborn man had a point.
When he lowered his hand, she captured it between both of hers, hanging onto him as if she were back in high school and he was the boy she was crushing on.
She didn't actually know what she was doing. She'd come out of the doctor's office elated that the scare had been for nothing. All her scans were clear, the blood work was good. Her doctor wasn't worried and wanted to see her again in six months. She still would never have a baby of her own, but maybe that grief was beginning to fade.
She'd been bubbling over with joy, and when Noah had embraced her, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world to reach up and kiss him.
Nothing had really changed for her. She still had issues with the way she looked, the way she was really only half of a woman. Maybe it was a delayed reaction to arguing with Iris the other night. Like when she'd been a teenager and her uncle had told her she couldn't rope in t
he upcoming rodeo, it had made roping the only thing that she wanted to do. Knee-jerk dating.
She might not know what she was doing, but she didn't want to let go of this fizzy feeling, like carbonated bubbles flowing through her veins. She didn't want to let go of the man.
"All right, all right." She tugged him away from the trees and moved toward the store entrance instead. "What I really brought you here for were some lights for the outside of your house."
He shot her a sideways look. "And who exactly is going to hang these lights?"
She affected an innocent look. "I'm sure Aiden could help you find someone to hang them."
His eyes narrowed.
She burst out in giggles. He was the one who'd started it by having his assistant call her in the first place. It served him right to get a taste of his own medicine.
They ambled toward the display of seasonal items near the front of the store.
"What I'd like to do," she started, "with your permission, is buy some of these little twinkle lights and outline the two big windows on the front of your house."
It wouldn't be much, but the kids could see it when they drove home in the evenings.
He seemed to be considering her request seriously. "Fine. If you wrap the two pillars on my porch, I'll agreed to it."
"You're taller than I am. Why don't you wrap the pillars?"
He leveled that look on her again. "You're really determined to thrust this idea of Christmas spirit on me, aren't you?"
He had no idea. This was her first Christmas with the kids, and she had plans for gingerbread houses, Christmas cookies, Christmas carols... And unfortunately for him, Noah was their only neighbor.
"I can feel you grinning."
Was she? She made an assessment of her face and found out he was right. How crazy. This morning, before her appointment, she'd been a nervous ball of stress. She still had to deal with the issue of PJ. Two nights ago, when she'd gone to tuck in the boys, he'd refused to talk about what he'd overheard between her and Iris.
Spending time with Noah made her forget about all that. For now. Noah made her feel... happy.
"You're still doing it," he said. And then for good measure, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her forehead.
15
Noah was a trickster and a liar.
Mostly, he was lying to himself, telling himself that having Jilly in a few stolen moments was enough.
The half hour hanging Christmas lights hadn't been enough. Jilly was terrible at untangling the things, even straight out of the box, and he'd found himself smiling hours later just thinking about it.
Thinking about her.
He didn't want to start craving the time spent with her.
But he was afraid he was already on his way.
Which was why he'd added supplies for making cookies to his grocery delivery list this week.
There had been a pregnant pause from Aiden when Noah had made the request. Noah imagined his assistant's curiously upraised eyebrows, though the other man hadn't asked him about the purchase.
It was Saturday morning, and Noah had left the flour and sugar and chocolate chips and sprinkles and icing strategically out on the kitchen counter. He was sure that Lindsey or PJ would see the cookie stuff and ask about it. They were as nosy as Jilly and had no filter.
If he was lucky, he could keep the kids occupied for at least an hour. And surely during part of that time, he could steal a few moments with Jilly.
He hadn't kissed her again since Monday. With three kids dogging every move they made, he hadn't had a chance to get her alone.
Not that he needed a kiss to be happy. He'd be happy with a brush of her hand against his as she passed through a room. Holding hands again would be divine.
A kiss would be heaven.
"So we're clear on the plan?" he asked Honey Bear, who was wrestling with an old sock she'd stolen out of the laundry basket days ago. The bell on her collar jingled.
She played tug of war with him, fighting fiercely for the cotton sock, grabbing it with her paws and mouth and then rolling onto her back to kick against it with her back paws.
She'd grown in just two weeks. She no longer fit in his cupped hands. She'd learned her way around the house. She still loved freaking him out by hiding in unexpected places. They'd both nearly given each other heart attacks when he'd turned on the shower and surprised her where she was sleeping in the bathtub. And she still liked to snuggle—at her own discretion, of course—while he worked at his computer.
Opening his life to the kitten had been surprisingly pain-free.
"But inviting a human in has more risks, doesn't it?" he murmured to the fierce kitten.
Someone knocked at the door, and his heart leapt. Jilly and the kids were here.
"It's open!" he called.
Last time, PJ had walked right in without knocking. Weird.
Be casual. He made himself stay seated on the living room floor, legs outstretched from where he leaned against the couch.
The door opened, and Honey Bear abandoned him, curiosity piqued.
"You leave your door unlocked now?"
That wasn't Jilly.
"Mom?" His voice cracked on her name. He scrambled to his feet. "What are you doing here?"
"What kind of greeting is that?" She dropped something heavy—he could tell by the muffled thump—by the wall next to the door.
"And who is this?" Mom cooed. Fabric rustled as she must've bent and scooped up Honey Bear. "It's—she's darling."
Honey's purr rumbled, loud in the suddenly silent room.
He moved to hug his mom, who was still holding the kitten and returned his embrace with one arm. Hot emotion filled his chest as he breathed in her familiar scent. He'd missed her.
When he pulled away, she held him at arms' length, her fingers firm against his upper arm. "You look... There's something different about you."
He wasn't ready to talk about Jilly yet. They weren't dating. Barely friends. He wanted—
"Cat," he said by way of explanation. "Her name is Honey Bear."
"Really?" Even his mom was amused by the name he'd chosen. He didn't care. It fit the little girl perfectly.
"What are you doing here?" he repeated the question, not unkindly.
"Visiting my son. Did you really think I was going to go on that cruise and not see you at all for Christmas?"
He had. And he'd been happy for her. At least that's what he'd told himself. Now that she was here, he realized how stupid he'd been.
"I'll stay the night and head back to Galveston tomorrow afternoon. Unless there's any reason you don't want me to stay."
It was a clear fishing expedition, and he was smart enough not to bite the hook.
"Of course I want you to stay," he said absently. His mind was reeling. Should he text Jilly and ask her not to come over today? His mother loved children. She'd adore Casey, PJ, and Lindsey.
But it wouldn't take long for his mom to see him together with Jilly and figure out exactly what was "different" about Noah. He was falling for her.
"I'll take your bag to the guest room," he murmured. He picked up the bag and started down the hall.
And then the decision on whether he should make a preemptive strike was taken from him when he heard the front door open again.
And Lindsey's tiny voice. "Who're you?"
He stopped and let his head fall back. Guess the choice was out of his hands now.
* * *
Jilly hadn't meant to interrupt a family moment. She hadn't known Noah was capable of having a family moment, but he'd been surprising her for weeks. She should've realized.
He seemed almost... embarrassed when he emerged from the hallway. No, embarrassed wasn't the word. Shy.
Why would having his mom around make him shy? Or maybe it was her and the kids. Maybe they were interrupting, and he didn't know how to get rid of them.
Introductions had been made. Ann was a hugger, and Jilly was still smiling from the
impromptu greeting when she edged toward Noah, who was hiding behind the couch.
Casey was keeping his distance, playing with the kitten across the room.
PJ was chattering at Noah's mom about the lights they'd strung outside.
Ann glanced curiously at her son before her gaze swung Jilly's direction and then back to PJ.
Lindsey hung back, standing slightly behind her brother with both hands wrapped around the digital camera she carried everywhere.
"I didn't see her car until the kids had already barged in," Jilly whispered.
Noah had his head cocked. He seemed to be listening to PJ ramble about being up on the ladder—which had lasted all of thirty seconds, since the boy was afraid of heights.
Then, she felt the full force of Noah's attention on her, though she kept her eyes on the kids.
"Do you want us to go?” she asked. “We should go, right?" She didn't know why she was so nervous. It wasn't as if she had anything to hide. She and the kids were an open book. So what if Noah's mom was here? She and Noah were friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. That was it. Nothing to hide.
But that didn't stop her heart from pounding. It didn't stop her from wracking her brain, trying to remember whether she'd even looked in the mirror this morning. She probably had crazy hair sticking up in all directions. It'd been a stressful morning working on a project with PJ, one that was due Monday, and which, of course, he'd left until nearly the last moment.
"Stay," Noah said simply. "She'll get a kick out of visiting with the kids."
"Okay. For a little while." Jilly stuffed her hands in her pockets. Tried to exhaled unobtrusively. Noah was wicked observant—
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said quickly. She couldn't attribute all her nerves to Ann’s presence. She'd been so incredibly stupid...
She'd been browsing the library app last night before bed, looking for a read that might make her drowsy enough to fall asleep, when she'd stumbled on an audiobook narrated by her handsome neighbor.
She'd started listening to it. And stayed up far too late, mesmerized by his voice. She could barely even remember what the book had been about. A makeover romance that wasn't even her usual reading preference. She liked mysteries and suspense.
Cowgirl Next Door (Sutter's Hollow Book 3) Page 11
