He pulled back before the kiss got out of hand and touched their foreheads together—both cushioned by stocking caps. Their cold noses brushed.
"I've been thinking about kissing you all day," he whispered.
She leaned into him, accepting the strength and warmth he offered.
She could get used to this.
"What're you doing?" Casey's loud question had her breaking away from Noah's embrace quickly.
The kids had abandoned the light design and were standing a few feet away, staring.
She'd forgotten she was wearing Noah's coat until PJ's eyes popped wide.
She smoothed down its front. "Noah was giving me a hug, trying to keep me warm." It was the truth—sort of. The children didn't need to know all the gushy details.
Casey's eyes narrowed slightly.
Noah shifted his feet from behind her.
Time for a distraction.
"Are any of you cold? Noah reminded me that there's a hot chocolate stand on the other side of the park. If we walk briskly, we'll keep warm, and we can be there in a few minutes."
Lindsey and PJ exclaimed their approval of her plan, while Casey and Noah remained quiet.
When she would've bumped Noah's shoulder with hers while they were walking, she found him a few inches further away than she expected.
Of course, with the children now clamoring around them, there was no time or privacy to discuss what seemed like the sudden distance he was putting between them.
* * *
The kids were up to something.
They'd arrived home after dropping Noah at his house. Lindsey had gone to bed without protesting, but the boys had disappeared quickly into their room and had been all whispers ever since.
Right now, she was standing at the bottom landing of the stairs. The upstairs lights were off, and she was debating whether she should go upstairs for the third time because she could still hear whispered voices from the boys' room.
From the kitchen, her cell phone rang. That's where she must've left it during all the chaos of getting the kids in bed.
She hurried to the kitchen and frowned at it when she saw it was Aiden.
"If this is one of Noah's jokes, I don't really have time to deal with it." The words had a snap that she immediately felt guilty about, but the kids had school tomorrow, and she needed them to go to sleep. It was stressing her out that they were up to something. Couldn't she just have one night of peace? Had she done the wrong thing in taking them out for a special night, when Lindsey had been in trouble at school earlier? On a school night?
"It's not a joke," Aiden said. "Noah didn't ask me to call."
“Oh no. What happened?”
"He can't find his cat."
Honey Bear? Oh no.
"He said she was there when you dropped him off at home."
Yes. The kitten had twined herself between Jilly's legs, almost tripping her as she'd ushered the kids out Noah's door.
"Now he can't find her anywhere. He hasn't opened any outside doors, but maybe she got out when you guys were leaving. He's scoured the house pretty good. Checked all her favorite hiding places. He put me on video on his cell phone and basically showed me every inch of the house."
Jilly's heart swooped low. Even after they'd left the park, the temperature had continued to drop, and snow was starting to fall. Honey Bear wasn't that old. If she got lost outside, she could freeze.
"I know it's a lot to ask, but could you go over there? Playing hide-and-seek from a phone's video camera isn't the same as being there in person."
She understood. If Noah had the camera pointed in the wrong direction, there was a chance Aiden would've missed Honey.
Or, if it was the worst case scenario and the cat was outside, Noah shouldn't be searching for her himself.
She moved into the front hallway and picked up one of her boots, ready to go to Noah's rescue. But she could still hear whispers coming from upstairs.
She stood there trying to decide. "Why didn't Noah call me?"
The words popped out before she had a chance to think them through. But now that she’d said them aloud, the emotion behind them hit her right in the gut. She'd been in Noah's arms tonight. Kissed him. She'd thought he was opening up to her, starting to trust her.
But he hadn't called. And he hadn't asked Aiden to call.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.
But, he needed help. Even if he wasn't going to ask for it, she was a bigger person than that.
"Don't give him any warning, but we're going to head over that way and see if we can help."
Aiden sounded relieved as he thanked her and hung up.
Maybe this was a mistake. She shouldn't keep the kids out late on a school night. Then again, if it snowed a lot, school might be cancelled.
She trudged up the stairs, flicking the hall light on as she went. There was instant silence from the boys. Lindsey hadn't made a peep the whole night, and Jilly hesitated at the girl's doorway.
Lindsey’s meltdown at school had been caused by a little girl who’d made an unkind comment about Lindsey not having a real mom. Jilly had had a long talk with the girl after school. Obviously, Lindsey’s emotional day had worn her out. Jilly hated to wake her.
She was reaching for the knob when she heard something from the boy's room. A thump, like something had fallen.
Suspicion roared its head like a dragon waking. She left Lindsey's door and went to the boys' room, opening their door with a rush, the light from the hall falling in a triangle inside. The smell hit her nose like always—sweaty boy with a side of stale socks.
She flipped on the light to see Casey on all fours, reaching for a bundle of black-and-brown fur crouched behind a basketball and hissing. PJ was halfway out of his bed, one leg tangled in the blankets.
Her heart sank.
"You stole Noah's kitten?"
"We didn't steal her. We just borrowed her." PJ spoke quickly from his bed, raising his hands placatingly.
She used her finger and the force of her mom-stare to point Casey back to his bed. He didn't move.
She stepped into the room and scooped up Honey, who calmed from her frazzled state, though little claws like little needles pricked Jilly's skin through her sweater.
"What were you thinking? How could you do that to Noah? He's your friend."
Casey stood by the edge of his bed, his arms crossed over his thin chest. He wore a belligerent scowl. "The only reason he tolerates us is to get with you."
"He made us paint his house," PJ said, his tone an echo of his cousin's. She saw a hint of something in his eyes, as if maybe he didn't entirely believe the words. Maybe he was parroting what he'd heard Casey say.
"I made you paint his house. He didn't even want us there."
"He didn't even want us there," Casey repeated. "And now he's all interested in you. He probably got the cat to keep us distracted while he worked his charms on you."
Noah didn't have any charm. The wayward thought almost brought a smirk, but the circumstances quashed the insane moment of amusement.
PJ's voice was more subdued now, quieter. "He probably doesn't even want Honey anymore. Just like you won't want us when you and Noah get together and then get married and start having babies."
She saw the shine of tears in the young boy's eyes. That, combined with his words, hit like an arrow, deflating her anger. She folded onto the end of his bed, the kitten in her lap.
The boys had taken everything out of context and twisted it all around.
"There's a lot of stuff we need to talk about," she said. "Starting with the fact that you guys are stuck with me. I...I don't know what's going to happen with me and Noah." Two weeks ago, she would've said definitively that there was nothing between them. Nothing for the boys to worry about. But now, between his gruff nature and his gentleness with the kids, he had snuck past the walls she'd tried to keep up. He’d snuck into her heart.
"Even if we decide that we want to start dating, e
ven if our relationship gets more serious, it won’t change how I feel about the two of you. Or about Lindsey. I love you guys."
PJs face crumpled, and she held out one arm. The too-skinny boy leaned into her side, allowing her to put her arm around him. His head fell on her shoulder, and she felt tiny trembles go through him, though she didn't think he was actually crying.
Casey still stood stoically next to his bed. His expression hadn't changed. If anything, he looked more stubbornly separate.
"You say that now," he said. "But you don't know what's going to happen after Christmas. Or in a few months."
"No, I don't. Nobody else does either. All I can do is try to do my best to be your mom." She hadn't told him yet that the wheels were in motion for an adoption. It was still early, and so many things could go wrong. The system was broken, but she was praying hard that the right doors would open.
"You guys have to do your best, too," she said. "And I don't think that's what happened tonight with Noah and the kitty."
PJ buried his face into her shoulder. Casey had the grace to look a little ashamed.
"Is he real worried about Honey Bear?" Casey asked grudgingly.
"I think so. We need to take her back to him. I need to take her back to him. You two need to get some sleep."
She stood up, reaching out one arm to Casey. When he ducked away from her hug, she settled for ruffling his hair instead. In the doorway, she turned back. "You guys know there's going to be punishment for this."
Casey's jaw stuck out stubbornly. PJ nodded seriously.
"Can I trust you to stay in this room and go to sleep?"
Both boys nodded slowly.
She shut the door and walked downstairs, unable to keep her shoulders from sinking. What was she doing? This thing with Noah was affecting the kids. She hadn't meant for it to happen. She wanted to be his friend, wanted to get him to open up a little so maybe they could have a neighborly relationship.
Tonight was the first time he'd admitted that maybe he wanted more than friendship. I've been thinking about kissing you all day.
But then, he'd had a problem. And he hadn't called her to ask for help. He'd called Aiden.
She was so confused.
She slipped into her boots, but when she opened the door, what had been earlier a little snow obscuring her windshield was now a blizzard with huge flakes and a swirling wind that seemed to come from all directions.
Honey burrowed into her coat with a plaintive meow.
She couldn’t go out in that. She shut the door and called Noah.
He didn't pick up for several rings, and she glanced at the window, where the snow was making small tinking sounds as it blew in. Was she going to have to go out there after all? Had Noah gone out into the elements? Maybe that was why he couldn't hear the phone ringing.
Just as she was getting good and scared, he answered.
"Hello?" His voice sounded muffled and unclear. Was he outside? She knew his phone told him who the caller was. Had he not wanted to answer her call?
"It's Jilly."
"I know." This time his voice came through clearer. Maybe he'd just had his head under a cabinet or been crawling under the bed. "Is it important?" he asked, voice clipped. "I'm busy."
Busy. She knew why, though he didn't know that Aiden had told her.
Her heart gave a sudden, painful thud inside her chest. Even now, when she'd called him, he wasn't going to tell her? Or ask for help?
Ringing filled her ears.
"The boys took Honey," she said quickly, ignoring the sting of tears behind her nose. Which was silly. There was nothing to cry about. Nothing was wrong. "It must've happened in the chaos of rounding up everyone and leaving your place. I didn't know until about ten minutes ago."
He was silent on the other end of the line. Then, "Why would they do that?"
"I think it was Casey. Or maybe he brainwashed PJ a little.”
She swallowed hard, bracing herself for his anger. He had a right to be angry. Her boys had stolen from him, had caused him to panic and worry.
"I—I was going to bring her back to you," she rushed on. "But I opened the front door. It's coming down really hard out there."
"Don't drive over here," he said immediately. "I'll get her tomorrow."
I'll get her. Not, you can bring her. What did that mean?
"Fine." She sniffed, trying to hold her rioting emotions at bay.
"You should get some rest." He hung up without a proper good-bye.
17
When Noah woke up the next morning, everything seemed muted. Quieter than he'd ever remembered it being before.
He went to the front door and opened it. Everything was silent. To him, silent meant empty. There was no sense of place. He could've been standing on the moon.
He closed the door and went to find the remote. The newscaster was too excited this early in the morning, talking about the unprecedented amount of snow they'd received overnight.
The snow had blanketed everything. That was why he felt so off this morning.
Or maybe it was missing the way Honey usually woke him up by patting his face until he got up to feed her breakfast.
He missed his cat.
He was resolutely not thinking about Jilly and the way she'd pulled away from him so quickly when the kids had interrupted them last night.
He’d feigned casualness when she texted about an hour later after he’d finished his first cup of coffee, asking if she and the kids could bring Honey back home.
Fine. He wanted his cat back.
He braced himself to see her again. Why had she pulled back? The way she’d jumped away… It felt like rejection.
And it was making him question everything.
For a few broken moments, he had been his five-year-old self again. A little boy craving his daddy's attention.
And look what had happened to that little boy. The jolt of reality had hit him hard. He wasn't falling for Jilly. He'd fallen. That thought scared him more than anything else. Hadn't he learned anything from his past?
He was kidding himself if he thought that he had any future with Jilly. He didn't know where to go from here.
Last night, when he’d discovered Honey Bear was nowhere to be found, he’d panicked. His first instinct had been to call Jilly. But he'd quickly quashed that.
He didn't hear the car approach, only the sound of boots stomping on his front porch and then the knock at his front door.
He opened it. Lindsey was the first one to speak, her effervescent energy bombarding him even though she stayed on the porch.
"Guess what? Honey spent the night at my house!" The girl could make even the world’s biggest grump smile.
"I know."
"There's so much snow. I stepped in a hole and fell down, but Jilly helped me make a snow angel. And we don't have to go to school today!"
His heart was heavy, but Lindsey made him forget for a moment.
He tensed up when Jilly approached. "Here she is. She had a little saucer of milk this morning, but I didn't want to upset her stomach, so we didn't give her much."
His hand connected with Jilly's as she transferred the kitten into his arms. Honey Bear butted her head against his stomach once before climbing up over his shoulder and jumping off, into the living room. He heard the soft thud of her paws as she hit the floor, then the jingle of her bell as she pranced toward the kitchen.
Lindsey let out a peal of delighted laughter. The boys were silent, though he sensed their presence on the porch.
Jilly broke into the awkward silence. "Boys, do you have something to say to Noah?"
Whoever was standing closest to him moved slightly. "We are real sorry that we snuck Honey out of your house last night." It was PJ, and he did sound repentant.
"Sorry," Casey muttered. The boy had loosened up over the past couple of weeks. But now it seemed he was reverting back to his previous attitude.
"Why did you do it?" Noah crossed his arms over his chest.
"There was a misunderstanding," Jilly said from somewhere near his elbow. He was desperately trying to ignore her presence, feeling the pull of her own brand of magnetism.
"I'd like to hear it from them," he said.
He could almost feel her bristle. Maybe his words had emerged a little harsh. He didn't like this feeling. This uncertainty, as if he was on the brink of losing her and the kids all in one sweep.
"We saw you and Jilly hugging at the park," Casey said belligerently.
"So you decided to steal my cat?"
"They made a mistake." Jilly's voice was quiet, but firm. He had the sense that maybe she was giving the boys the evil eye. Some sort of nonverbal communication was happening, something he wasn't privy to.
And he didn't like it. What secret was she hiding? What else was going on with the boys?
"We really are sorry." The remorse in PJ's voice was genuine.
It was the sniff after he spoke, a sound Noah recognized, that hit where it hurt. That sniff meant the boy was trying not to cry. And Noah's anger deflated like helium from a balloon.
He passed one hand over his mouth and jaw. "I was really worried when I couldn't find her last night."
"She's back now," Casey said snidely.
It was all the apology he was going to get from Casey. And from a current shut-down teen to a former shut-down teen, it was enough.
Lindsey burst back into the conversation as if she couldn't wait one second longer to be the peacemaker.
"Jilly said the snow is perfect for sledding, and we've got some swimming floats she didn't use last summer. We're going to go tubing down the hill! Will you come with us, Noah? Please please please?"
The little girl's energy might have been contagious, but he'd lost his life raft and didn't know what direction to swim to get to shore. Did Jilly even want him to come?
He heard the rustle of the fabric, sensed Lindsey lean in to Jilly's side.
When she spoke, he could imagine the stubborn tilt of Jilly's chin. "We've taken up enough of Noah's time this morning."
Right. That was his answer right there. She didn't want him along.
"He's probably scared," Casey muttered.
Scared? Of sledding? How was he supposed to back down from a dare like that?
Cowgirl Next Door (Sutter's Hollow Book 3) Page 13
