by Andi Bremner
“So,” Renee was saying, “Noah has a delivery to make over at Mrs. Houghton’s house, so I thought he could take you to a few workshops, see if anyone is hiring. Why don’t you see if Toby needs an extra pair of hands?”
Juliette swiveled her eyes to his hopefully. “That’d be great! If it’s not too much trouble.”
Noah grunted in reply. He didn’t see any way out of it other than upsetting his mom … and Juliette, too. And besides, it wouldn’t hurt him to take her with him. He kind of liked the idea of having her in the truck beside him.
“And maybe you can show her some of the sights,” Renee suggested, “help her feel a bit more settled in Myrtle Beach.”
“Sure.” Noah had a feeling he was signing up for something more than a simple tour guide.
Chapter Four
Juliette
Noah Daniels, Juliette decided, was as grumpy and rude as his mother was warm and welcoming. Several times she’d been about to tell him not to bother taking her, but each time she’d clamped her mouth shut. Renee seemed to love the idea of Noah showing her around, and besides, spending the morning in the car with a guy as gorgeous as Noah didn’t sound like a bad way to spend her first morning in town. Even if said gorgeous guy had a slumbering furnace blazing underneath.
Juliette, in her moves from place to place, was always meeting new people, always making new friends and she knew everyone had a dark and a light side. She’d met men who were tattooed from head to two and wore their aggression like armor who spent Sundays taking their grandmothers to church. Likewise, she’d met clean-cut, wholesome community members who harbored dark secrets. Like the guy who volunteered at the local homeless shelter who’d served time in prison for murdering his aunt. You couldn’t judge people, and everyone had their secrets.
Pulling on her shoes she made her way outside to find Noah securing a table into the back of his pickup. She ran her hand over the smooth, polished wood, marveling at the workmanship.
“Did you make this?” she asked.
“I did.”
“Wow. It’s beautiful.” She was genuinely impressed with the workmanship and obvious talent that had gone in to creating the table. It was more than a piece of furniture. It was a work of art, and it was clear that the artist took pride and invested their soul into their work.
Noah nodded, and Juliette watched as he tightened the straps holding the table in place, before making his way to the passenger door, holding it open for her to climb up. Another layer, aloofness mixed with gentlemanly manners.
The car was pristine and clean, the upholstery shining as if it’d just been collected from the new car yard. She snuggled down into the seats marveling at the smell, a mix between leather and lemon.
“I’ll take you to meet Toby after I’ve been to Mrs. Houghton’s,” he told her, pulling the car away from the curb. “She’s waiting on her table.”
Juliette nodded and then swiveled in her seat to watch the houses pass by. The neighborhood was a colorful one, all the houses painted in various shades of pastel and the roadside lined with massive palm trees. It was a far cry from the suburb she’d lived in while in Lexington. That had been a hub for crime, and there’d been a few moments, when she’d first arrived, when she’d feared for her safety. But then she’d hooked up with Harry, and once everyone realized she was his girl, they left her alone. Harry was well known in the ‘burb.
She tried to imagine Harry in a place like this with swept roads, shiny tree lined sidewalks and manicured gardens. Harry and Juliette had been cut from the same cloth. They were both foster children, had spent their childhoods moving from family to family until they finally found a place where they belonged. The only thing was, she was still searching.
They paused at traffic lights, and Juliette watched as a young mom emerged from a house with blue shingles. In her arms, she carried an infant and beside her she wrangled a toddler, holding his hand tightly as she tried to maneuver him towards the garage. Over her shoulder she carried what looked to be a beach bag filled with towels and the toddler carried a bucket and pail set, a bucket hat set firmly on his head.
When she was eleven she lived with a family that had young children. Mrs. Emerson had an infant, plus four year old twins. She hadn’t really wanted or needed another child when she took Juliette in, but she did need another set of hands. The house they lived in had cracked linoleum, faded, paisley wallpaper on the living room walls, and the permanent stench of stale cigarettes clinging to the carpets throughout. At all times, no matter what hour of the day or night, the television blared with cartoons and there always seemed to be someone crying, be it the twins, the infant or Mrs. Emerson herself. Juliette couldn’t remember Mrs. Emerson going on any outings with her children—the park, lake or anywhere. Sometimes her friend Lesley came over and they sat outside in the yard on foldout chairs and drank beer until they fell asleep, leaving Juliette to look after all the kids on her own. She’d only stayed there for a few months before she was moved to a new family.
She turned to Noah, pushing all thoughts of Mrs. Emerson out of her mind. “Your mom’s really nice.”
“She is.”
“Is it just the two of you? I thought I saw a brother and a sister in a picture upstairs.”
“I have a brother Ryan and a sister Emma. Ryan you’ll probably meet later, and Emma lives interstate with her husband.”
“You’re lucky,” she said thoughtfully, “having family around.”
Noah frowned slightly as if the idea he was lucky had never occurred to him before. “I guess. Where are your family?”
“My mom’s in Pittsburgh.” She scrunched up her nose. “I think.”
“You think?”
Juliette shrugged. “Well, that’s where she was last time I spoke to her.”
“And when was that?”
“Um.” She paused, trying to recall the last time she’d seen her mom. It hadn’t been a good meeting, and she tried not to think too much about the woman who’d birthed her but neglected her for most of her life. She’d never been the type of mother to take her on outings anywhere. She barely even made sure she got to school, or that she ate well or that she even had a safe environment to sleep. “About eighteen months ago, I think.”
He gaped at her, not bothering to hide his astonishment. “You haven’t spoken to your mom in eighteen months? Are you some kind of runaway or something?”
Juliette laughed. “Hardly! I’m twenty-three, so I don’t think I need my mother’s permission to move.”
“But…”
“We aren’t close,” she told him lightly. “We never had a big falling out or anything like that. She has her life, and I have mine. Believe me when I say there is no love lost between my mother and m.”
Noah’s frown deepened, and she sensed that he wanted to ask more questions and braced herself. She was used to people being curious about her past, and she had her stock standard answers prepared. No lies, just the truth in the simplest of terms.
“No brothers or sisters? Dad?”
“Nope,” she said grinning over at him, “just me.”
He scowled at her and turned back to the road. They were on Mrs. Houghton’s street now. “Must get lonely.”
“Are you kidding?” Now it was her turn to look surprised, her eyes going big and round. “There are seven billion people on this planet! How could I ever be lonely? And besides, just yesterday I rolled up into town and knew no one and now I have two new friends.”
“You do?” He sounded surprised.
“You and your mom,” she explained with a laugh as she unbuckled and climbed out the car.
Juliette stopped short as her eyes fell on the house looming before her. It was massive, more like a mansion than a house. The lawns out front were expansive, a perfect English rose garden standing in the center. The house itself was red brick with an array of windows and balconies on the upper floors. People live like this? she wondered in complete and utter awe. She’d only ever seen ho
mes like this in magazines or on television, never in real life.
“Wow,” she said, “just wow.”
Noah’s mouth twitched. “Nice huh?” He made his way up the path towards the massive, double doors. Juliette followed behind, her eyes big and wide, her head tilted back to take in the whole view.
“More than nice,” she murmured. “People live here? Like how many? A hundred?”
“No, just three,” he told her, “and the servants of course.”
“Servants?”
Noah laughed, the sound warm and deep, which made Juliette smile. She had a feeling Noah didn’t laugh a whole lot, and while the thought made her feel sad she also felt the spark of hope too. Maybe he wasn’t as closed off to human interaction as he pretended to be.
“Yep, they have servants.”
When Mrs. Houghton appeared a few minutes later she welcomed Noah with a kiss before turning her attention to Juliette. Noah introduced them, and Juliette could feel Mrs. Houghton’s eyes lingering on her curiously. “I’m staying at Noah’s mom’s guest house,” Juliette explained, although she had no idea why she’d volunteered that information. So, what if Mrs. Houghton thought they were together? Juliette had never bothered with what anyone thought of her before, but then this wasn’t her home town and these weren’t her friends. They were Noah’s, and she had a feeling that even if he pretended not to care, he probably did.
When they reached his truck Mrs. Houghton couldn’t hide her appreciation.
“Oh, this table is going to look beautiful in my office,” she said. “I can’t stand drinking my tea or coffee at the desk. I feel like a coffee break deserves a moment, and I’m planning on taking that moment at this new table.”
“Mrs. Houghton writes novels,” Noah explained to Juliette, “romance novels.”
“They’re more than just romance novels,” Mrs. Houghton said, wiggling her eyebrows at Noah before turning to Juliette. “They’re erotic romance novels. Do you read, dear?”
“Um—”
Noah’s mouth twitched, and Juliette got the feeling he was enjoying her sudden discomfiture.
“Let me give you one of my books!” Mrs. Houghton cried suddenly as though the idea of giving a book to a random stranger had only just occurred to her, when Juliette suspected she probably did this all the time. “Then while you’re sitting on that delightful porch at Renee’s you can read something a little titillating! Noah, I’ll get Doug to help you with the table.”
“Um that’s okay Mrs.—” Juliette began, but she’d already disappeared.
“Sorry,” Noah said, “she likes to share her creativity with others.”
“Have you read them?”
“Sure. They’re very educational.” He smirked.
Juliette blinked after him as he untied the table.
Mrs. Houghton appeared a few moments later with a stack of books that she deposited into Juliette’s arms. Juliette cradled them as if they were as precious as a newborn baby while her eyes raked over the titles and the covers. Titles like Unwind Me, Blow Me Away, and Banging Good Time seemed to scream at her, as well as the naked torsos of a variety of male models who draped themselves around skinny, equally naked woman, although all pertinent parts of their respective anatomies were concealed.
“Enjoy, my dear,” Mrs. Houghton said before she called to Noah, “Doug is coming!”
Juliette glanced up at the man who’d followed Mrs. Houghton out of the house, her eyes lighting on a very tall, very lithe man who regarded her curiously. Juggling the books between her arms she tried to pull a hand free.
“Oh um, hi,’ she muttered and then dropped the books.
“Hello.” He grinned as he bent with her to collect the fallen items. “I’m Doug Houghton.”
“Juliette McKenna,” she said, her cheeks burning for no reason she could fathom other than that was a clumsy fool.
“You helping or what?” Noah called out from the car, barely hiding the annoyance in his voice.
Doug winked at Juliette. “Better go help Mr. Grumpy, before he bites off his own arm.”
Juliette giggled and watched as Doug made his way down the steps and across the wide yard to help Noah carry the table into the house. Mrs. Houghton was by her side once more.
“Good looking young man that Noah Daniels,” Mrs. Houghton said over a deep sigh.
Juliette glanced at her. “Uh huh.”
“Shame.”
Juliette was just about to ask what she meant by that when Noah and Doug made their way up the front steps and into the house. She had to scurry out of the way, her arms filled with books as they heaved the heavy piece of furniture inside. Mrs. Houghton followed, calling out instructions on where to place it.
Juliette shifted between her feet, her mind wondering over Mrs. Houghton’s last word. Shame. What was a shame? Something about Noah? Something about Noah being so good looking? Juliette didn’t need to think too hard about what she meant. She already knew there was some kind of darkness smoldering inside of Noah, something that had scarred his soul. Deeply. She might show every emotion she had on her face, but so did he.
A few minutes later and Noah, Doug, and Mrs. Houghton were back outside.
“Not used to heavy lifting?” Noah said to Doug, gesturing to the perspiration dotting his forehead. “Too used to a desk job.”
“You wish,” Doug retorted. “I could still take you on. You been out there much?”
Noah shook his head, that familiar cloud drifting over his eyes again. “No.”
Doug nodded. “Don’t leave it too long.”
Juliette watched their interaction with interest, a million questions flooding her mind. They were obviously friends, but there was also a tension between them that was almost tangible. They had history, she realized. They’d had some kind of fall out in the past, and although they’d gotten over it, it was still there, lingering around them and preventing them from really moving forward. And what did Doug mean by “been out there” and “don’t leave it too long”? Again, Juliette realized there was something improbably sad about Noah, something that had broken him in some way.
“Juliette! You coming or what?”
She snapped to attention. So lost in thought she hadn’t realized that their business at the Houghtons was complete and Noah was halfway to the car.
“Nice to meet you.” She smiled at Mrs. Houghton and Doug as she hurried after Noah.
Doug grinned. “Nice to meet you, Juliette. Hey, if you’re new in town why don’t you come along to the Oak tonight? There’s quite a few of us going…”
She smiled. “That would be great!”
“I can pick you up if you like,” he offered.
“No. That’s okay. I can get my own way there. Thanks.”
“See you then. And don’t let Mr. Grumpy get to you, he’s been through a lot.”
Again, Juliette wanted to linger and ask Doug what he meant, but Noah was at the car already and she didn’t doubt that he’d leave her behind. Waving goodbye, she hurried down and climbed into the truck.
Without saying a word, he started the engine and pulled away from the curb, not glancing back at the Houghton’s even though Juliette wound down her window and waved at them, shifting the books she’d been given in her lap.
“They seem like nice people,” she said after a moment when it became clear Noah wasn’t to speak.
He grunted in return, not taking his eyes from the road.
Juliette sighed and turned away to stare out the window. “What were they were talking about?” she asked slowly, after another long moment had passed, “about you leaving it too long?”
“The water,” he growled. “I don’t go in the water.”
She blinked at him. “You went in the water yesterday. To rescue me.”
He shot her a harsh look that had her pulling back in her seat. “You were drowning. I was hardly going to stand there and watch. That wouldn’t have been very gentlemanly.”
Juliette swallowed
over the sudden dryness in her mouth, wondering what his problem was. She wanted to ask him. She normally would ask since most people were happy to talk about themselves, loved talking over their problems even with a stranger, but she had a feeling Noah wasn’t like everyone else. And she, of all people, knew what it was like to have things you didn’t want to talk about with anyone.
When she was fifteen she’d gone to group counseling session, a support group for people like her. Sick people. Every week for six weeks she’d sat in a circle with eight other teenagers and listened to them share their thoughts and problems. Their parents didn’t understand them, their mothers crowded them or neglected them, there were too many rules at home, their teachers were mean, they’d missed too much school and were behind, the kids at school had teased them and called them names, their friends were no longer their friends. They talked about drugs, about sexual experimentation and how awful they felt about almost every aspect of their lives. Juliette listened to it all, and whilst she felt for all the hardships they were going through she wasn’t sure reliving it constantly was doing anything to solve them.
The counselor, a woman in her early thirties with prematurely greying hair that was thick and curly, encouraged Juliette to share her story.
“It’s therapeutic,” she’d say, “to talk about how you’re feeling.”
“I feel great,” Juliette would reply stubbornly, “wonderful in fact.”
“But you’ve been through so much,” she’d insist. “Talking about it will help you made amends with the past and move on.”
“I can’t move on if I’m constantly talking about the past, can I?” Juliette would respond. “How can I live in the present and think about the future if I’m constantly talking and reminiscing about the past? No. I don’t need to make amends with the past. I need to leave it right where it is. In the past.”
Eventually the counselor stopped asking her to share her story, and eventually she stopped going to the counseling sessions. So Juliette knew she got it that Noah might not want to talk about the past, but that didn’t mean he was entirely done thinking about it either.
