by Amelia Jade
Until Noah growled at her. Now she felt her nipples harden and other parts of her body come to life with the sudden understanding that she was about to be with a man. The temperature in the room seemed to elevate immediately, and her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at Noah. His eyes seemed to be a reflection of what she was feeling, and even as she watched he took a slight step toward her.
She felt her tongue flick out and lick her lips, dampening them in the event that they would find themselves pressed against his…or in use for something else. Her mouth dropped open slightly as she forced herself to breathe, caught entirely in his trance.
Her eyes traveled downward, time seeming to slow as she ran them over his chest, back and forth between his abs as she kept moving them lower, to the black metallic belt buckle and then finally to the—
Cooper started to cry.
Angela’s head whipped around at the sound and she immediately devoted all her attention to him, even though she didn’t normally respond immediately to crying, not wanting him to get it in his head that any time he cried he could get what he wanted.
“I know,” she said, picking him up again. “Mommy’s here.”
The mood immediately returned back to normal, and much to her relief Noah picked up on that and returned to sweeping the floor, finishing in short order. She directed him to the garbage can and he took it from there.
“Anything else to do?” he asked as he finished returning everything to where it had been.
“Nope, we’re good to go,” she said, putting the now-calmed Cooper back into the stroller and tucking him in for the walk home. It had been a relatively warm day out for winter when she’d left, but the sun would be low in the sky now and it was still a fifteen-minute walk or so.
“Excellent.” Noah headed toward the door and held it open for her while she killed the lights and followed him out into the hallway and then outside.
“Don’t you people ever need anything more than a T-shirt?” she complained as the chill worked its way over her body before she could adjust to the change in temperature. The sweat in her workout clothing on the lowest layer began to feel nasty, and she suddenly wished Noah wasn’t there to see her in such a state.
“Um, if we go somewhere real cold, yeah. But this isn’t enough to really bother us,” he said. “Head real far north or south and I’ve been told we need jackets and the like there, just as you do, but I don’t really know myself.” He smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, I can tell it’s cold out, but it just doesn’t bother us.”
“Must be nice to have super genetics,” she grumbled.
Noah smiled. “At least you know your son has them. That’s gotta count for something?”
She grimaced, and the expression wiped itself from his face immediately.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to touch on a sore spot.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said with a wave. “It’s something I need to deal with anyway.”
“I see.”
He clearly didn’t, but she nodded in appreciation anyway. The effort was what truly counted. Besides, how could he be expected to know her feelings toward everything.
“It’s not as though I harbor anything against him for having shifter genes,” she said, surprising herself at her willingness to talk. “I mean, I wasn’t raped. I went into this willingly.”
“But under false pretenses,” he supplied, sounding now as if he had a stronger idea of what was going on.
“Yes,” she said, looking away in what felt like shame. “I love my son,” she said fiercely. “More than anything in the world.”
“I believe it,” Noah said.
“But I was tricked into having him,” she said, admitting the truth at last. “I was lied to. And that’s…left a bit of a sour taste in my mouth, to put it mildly.” She laughed sarcastically. “I’ve honestly ignored the fact that he’s a shifter up until now, if I’m going to tell the truth, which I am for some reason, though I don’t really know why, since I barely know you and you’re a shifter and—”
She clamped her lips shut abruptly as her brain clued her in to the fact that she was rambling semi-incoherently.
“Sorry. Obviously some emotions to deal with,” she said, making fun of herself a little to try and lighten the mood.
“No, I understand,” Noah said, his voice deep and thoughtful, speaking slowly as if he were considering his words before he said them. “And you needn’t worry about dealing with the shifter part for another twelve to fifteen or so years. By then, I’m sure you’ll have solved everything. You seem like the resourceful type.”
She blinked at the sudden compliment, looking up and over at him as they crossed a side street devoid of traffic.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I mean it,” he pressed. “You’ve gone and created this whole workout program simply because you wanted to. Most of the other women here, from what I understand, are just going with the flow. You on the other hand, you’re out here creating, doing things the way you want to do them as best you can given the circumstances. That’s something admirable in my eyes.”
Noah sounded so proud that she almost thought he was referring to himself, but he looked at her with a shine to his eyes that made her blush. He was proud of her, for what she’d done. That was…an interesting concept. Angela had allowed herself a little pat on the back at the success of her course, and each time someone new came out or even asked about it she tried not to talk their ear off about how much she enjoyed it.
But to hear it come from a third party, someone who didn’t have a stake in the matter was another thing entirely. She felt like beaming, smiling from ear-to-ear. It felt good to receive a compliment as genuine as that, something she’d realized she hadn’t had much of lately. Oh sure, the others all told her she was being a great mom, but they said that to everyone, not just her.
“Thank you,” she repeated in a quieter tone. “I’m not happy that circumstances have led to this, but they have, and moping around isn’t going to solve anything. We need to get out there and do something. Some have been lucky enough to find men, or mates, but most of us, we just have to keep on hacking it on our own. We can’t give up.”
Noah was silent for a minute, the only sound the clack of her stroller’s wheels as they moved over sections of concrete sidewalk.
“I mostly agree,” he said at last, his voice trepid, tentative even.
“Mostly?” she asked, trying to keep any emotion from her voice.
“Yes. I agree that moping doesn’t help, and that the circumstances may not be perfect, but you need to make the best of them, and that you need to keep on striving. But I don’t agree that you have to do it on your own.” He held up a hand to forestall any immediate counterargument. “That’s not to say you can’t do it on your own. But if someone is willing to help, to be there with you, to travel the same path as you, where is the harm in accepting that?”
Angela’s eyebrows had lowered as he spoke, but the more he continued to talk the more she understood what he was getting at. He wasn’t saying that she needed someone there. Nor was he even suggesting she go looking. Noah was actually probing, to see if she was open to the idea of not going it alone. Of having someone there with her.
Someone like him, perhaps? Is that what he was doing, seeing if she was open to the idea of having him around on a regular basis? It seemed likely. Rachel had confided in her about some things Hector had mentioned after they’d gotten together. About how he’d had to move slowly, and cautiously with her, not wanting to scare her away, things like that. Was this Noah’s way of doing the same?
And if it was, there was still one question that remained. How did she feel about that? He was hot, of course, she knew that, and there was obviously some sort of sexual tension between them. She wasn’t going to deny that, though neither was she going to automatically act on it either. The question was whether she could see herself being open to the idea of something more with someone, someone
like Noah.
“Harm is a strong word,” she said cautiously, still not sure how she felt about the situation, but feeling it out as she went. “There may not be harm from accepting that, from opening yourself up to doing it as a team. But that doesn’t mean it won’t lead to harm either.”
Noah gave her a sad smile. “There’s never any guarantee of that. The only thing that’s guaranteed is by refusing any help is that you’ll never expose yourself to hurt. You simply won’t be exposed, or vulnerable. That also means you’ll also never expose yourself to happiness.”
His words sank deep, and she knew immediately that he had a point. Angela could do her best to remain strong, to do the single-mother thing all on her own, without the help of anyone, be it Noah or another man who might come along. She knew she could handle it. It wouldn’t be easy of course, but she knew her strengths, and that she would be willing and able to tackle this alone, with just friends around her.
If she did that though, then she’d never give herself the chance to experience something like what Rachel had found in Hector.
Do I want that though? Angela thought back to how exposed and vulnerable Rachel had looked and felt as she fumbled through things with Hector. It must have been terrifying to open yourself up to that, to allow someone into your life who could potentially hurt you so badly if things didn’t work out.
She wasn’t talking physically of course. Most shifters she knew were good people. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work out. Maybe all that was between them was physical desire. That wasn’t going to help beyond giving her a night of fun. That emotional harm could be devastating. How would she cope?
But what if he’s your Hector?
It was a big “if” of course, and one that she would never know until she actually started going down that path and exploring just where it led. Angela would have to expose herself well before then, opening herself up to hurt, just to see if there was happiness there. The idea was terrifying. But the payoff could be immeasurable.
“Perhaps there’s a point to be made there,” she said cautiously at last. “Happiness is certainly something that I think everyone wants. I know I do.” She looked away. “But the potential for hurt…”
“Is always there. In everything you do,” Noah said as they turned into the maze of buildings that formed the complex where she and the other women were all housed. “No matter what, anything you can do in life opens you up to hurt. There’s no getting around that, Angela. You can’t avoid hurt. It’s part of what helps us remember that we’re alive. Pain, agony, heartbreak, loss, sadness. Those are all things that help us define what happiness is.”
“You’ve a way with words,” she observed.
“Not really,” he admitted. “I’m just having a lucky moment here where I can sound like I’m all wise and philosophical.”
She laughed, thankful for the reprieve from the seriousness of their conversation, though she wasn’t quite ready to leave the topic behind.
“I think you’re right,” she said, as her brain started to pull together some tangled thoughts, laying them out in a straight line. “Part of experiencing fear is learning to recognize it, and harness it as well. To use it, so that it doesn’t use you.”
He smiled. “Precisely. Just because you feel fear doesn’t mean it needs to control everything you do. Only the insane don’t feel fear. Bravery isn’t the absence of fear, as many assume, it is simply the ability to not be held hostage by it, and to act anyway.”
She fell silent for a few moments as they walked along, eventually reaching the little walkway that led up to her unit.
“What if you don’t know how to act?” she asked thoughtfully, getting out her keys and moving up to her door.
Noah looked thoughtful for a moment, and Angela blinked as she thought she saw something akin to fear, or nervousness run through his features. It was gone in a heartbeat though, too soon for her to recognize whether it had actually existed or not.
“In that case,” he said, stepping closer, “sometimes you have to rely on someone else to act.”
Then he wrapped his arms around her, leaned in, and kissed her softly on the cheek.
“I hope to see you again, Angela. Thank you for the interesting conversation, and I hope you come to a conclusion.”
She stood there, unable to react as he flashed her another one of those heart-fluttering smiles of his, full of brilliant white teeth. Then he was gone, long legs powering him down the walkway and out of her sight.
“I think I have,” she said long after he’d gone, her eyes still riveted to where he’d disappeared, her cheek tingling with electricity from where his lips had touched hers.
Imagine if he’d kissed me…
The thought made her swallow. Hard.
Chapter Eight
Noah
Working the front desk could be boring, he’d decided.
“So do you normally just sit around all night with nothing to do?”
“Mostly,” Hector replied. “But I mean, it could be worse.”
“It could?”
“Sure. The building could burn down while you’re on guard duty. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Noah blinked and worked his jaw as he tried to come up with a response to that. “Ummm,” was the genius line he came up with.
“Sorry, a little bit of latent frustration,” Hector said, not looking up from where he was bent over his phone. “That actually happened to me. Your predecessor tried to frame me in an attempt to get rid of me to work his way up the ladder of seniority.”
“Oh.” Another gem of a line.
“Yeah. True story. You can read about it.”
“What? There’s a story about it?”
Hector looked up now, giving him a weird stare. “No, I meant in the reports.” He shook his head and went back to whatever it was he was doing. “A story,” he muttered under his breath. “Now wouldn’t that be something.”
“The place doesn’t look all that bad,” Noah said, finally managing to speak up.
“Oh, well it didn’t literally burn down. But there was a fire, and we had to do all kinds of repairs. That’s why the lobby looks so new. We demo’d the whole thing and revamped it, new tile and such.”
“Ah. Looks good,” he said, taking a glance around with a fresh perspective. “Is that when you installed the map?”
“Mm-hmm,” Hector said, obviously distracted.
“May I ask you something?”
“Ya.”
“What the hell are you doing on your phone?”
Hector looked up again. “Texting.”
“Text…ing,” Noah repeated, the unfamiliar word sounding odd to his ears. “Umm, what exactly is that?”
His mentor sighed slightly in frustration and looked up. “Basically, you can type out messages on it, and then it will send it to whomever you want. They can then reply. It saves the hassle of having to speak on the phone when you can’t, or when you don’t want to have the entire conversation at once.”
“Ah. So,” he said, his brain working overtime. “You’re telling me that I could use this to send a, um, what do you call it?”
“A text.”
“I could send a text, to Angela, then?”
Hector grinned. “If you have her number.”
Noah slumped back into the chair. Damn. He didn’t have her number. And the only way he could get it was to ask her, and then she would—
He sat upright.
“What?” Hector asked, his head snapping up as he scanned for threats. “What is it?”
“That day at the restaurant,” Noah said excitedly. “Angela did something to my phone. She, um, I don’t know what. But she said I’d know it when I found it. Could she have been putting her number into it?”
“Why don’t you check and see?” Hector suggested dryly.
“Right.” He bent to his phone, then looked up again almost immediately. “How do I do that?”
Hector sighed, his head drooping. �
�You haven’t read the manual, have you?”
“There’s a manual?”
“Oh for…here, follow what I do on mine. Touch here. Then there. And boom, you’re into the section that’s called ‘Contacts.’ It’s where all the information for people you might contact is stored.”
Noah followed the instructions, waiting what felt like an eternity for the screen to load, even if in reality it happened faster than he could register. There was only one name listed.
Angela Breeson.
“Well look at that,” Hector crowed, looking over at his phone. “She gave you her number.”
In short order Hector showed him how to send a text, and gave him a brief lesson on something he called text-iquette. Apparently things operated differently than when in person.
“I’m confused.”
“That’s normal. It took me ages and lots of coaching from Rachel, and I’m still an oaf with this thing. I just know some of the basic functions, including text.” He grimaced slightly. “Rachel likes to text. She doesn’t like to wait for replies very long either.”
“Let me guess,” Noah said, taking the bait. “She has no issues making you wait though.”
“Bingo!” Hector said as they shared a laugh about something common to all relationships.
“Okay, let’s see how this goes,” he said, more to himself than to Hector, who had already leaned back in his chair, absorbed in his conversation with Rachel again.
Noah: Hey, it’s Noah.
He waited for several seconds, then put his phone down, trying not to look at it. She might not have her phone on her, he told himself. Maybe she was showering, or busy with the baby. Who knew. She could be doing a thousand things that could take her a while before she realized she had a message. So he couldn’t flip out. He needed to stay relaxed, calm, and focus on his job—
Ding.
He snatched the phone up and hurriedly clicked the icon that said he had a new message.
