Sweetbriar Cottage

by Denise Hunter

  She hiked a brow. “Do you give?”

  “Fine. I give.” Without hesitation he lifted the board, dumping houses, hotels, and all into the battered box. “I’m sure we can find something better to do.”

  Immediately ideas surged to mind, complete with images. Noah’s lips on hers, his arms around her. Naked limbs tangling in flesh-warmed sheets.

  You are still married, after all.

  Stop that.

  She forced the images from her mind and grabbed the deck of Uno cards from behind her. She set them on the table with exaggerated flair and withdrew her hand.

  He looked up at her, his eyes going from surprised to knowing. “You had those all along, woman?”

  She gave an innocent shrug, batting her eyelashes for good measure.

  “Oh, you’ve had it now, lady. You have had it now.”

  Chapter 16

  Noah put down his last set of cards, leaving him empty-handed. He stared across the table at Josephine’s handful of cards and tried not to gloat. Okay, not really.

  “You’re a cruel, cruel man, Noah Mitchell.” She pushed out her lower lip.

  His eyes fixed on the plumpness for a long moment before dragging his gaze away and gathering the cards. They weren’t keeping score, but he was kicking her butt.

  “I’m officially humiliated.” She surrendered the cards in her hand—at least twenty by the looks of it—and smothered a yawn. “And I think I’m ready to hit the hay.”

  “It’s only ten thirty.”

  She pulled the blanket around her as she stood. “I know, but I’m tired of being cold. At least if I’m asleep I won’t be thinking about the fact that I can’t feel my toes.”

  “Here, let’s do this.”

  She moved out of Noah’s way while he dragged the sofa in front of the fireplace, a safe distance away.

  It had long since grown dark outside, but the light of the fire kept the shadows at bay. He hoped it would be enough light for her. They needed to conserve the flashlight battery.

  She glanced at the recliner back in the corner. “Now I’m blocking your heat.”

  “You know me. I’m a virtual furnace.” He handed her a second blanket, keeping one for himself.

  She settled on the couch. She’d put on two pairs of Noah’s socks and had thrown a sweatshirt on over her own clothes. Even still, she shivered under the blankets. But then he’d known her to shiver in sixty-five-degree weather, Georgia peach that she was. It was cooler than that now and bound to get colder as the night wore on.

  “I’ll never take a furnace for granted again. Who knew a house could get so cold?”

  “I’m afraid this one’s poorly insulated. And the windows are old. I’ve been meaning to get around to both, but I decided to tackle the attic first. Unfortunately.”

  Noah put more logs on the fire and set the screen in front of the grate. He turned and spotted Shadow on the floor beside the couch.

  He squatted and patted the empty space beside Josephine. “Up, Shadow.”

  The dog lifted his head, his ears perked.

  “It’s okay.” Noah patted the sofa again. “Come on.”

  Josephine made room as Shadow leaped onto the sofa, chuckling as he stuck his nose in her face. The dog lay down, stretching along her length.

  “Good boy,” he said.

  “I thought he wasn’t allowed on the sofa.”

  “Special occasion.” Shadow would probably test him for the next month on account of the one allowance, but he couldn’t stand to watch Josephine suffer.

  Noah adjusted the blanket so it would cover both her and the dog, conserving body heat. He sent a mental apology to Shadow, who was probably going to roast.

  “Stay.” He ruffled the dog’s fur and went to settle on the recliner. The leather was cold, and he still hadn’t warmed up completely from his last trip to the barn.

  He lay there a long time, the glow of the fire silhouetting the sofa. He shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and pulled up the hood.

  Despite his best efforts, his mind went over and over the time he’d spent with Josephine this evening. He could practically feel the ice crystals over his heart thawing. And he knew it was stupid. Dangerous. Seth was right. He’d be a fool to let her in again. Even an inch.

  And yet there was something about her. He closed his eyes and had a long talk with God as he lay there. Just putting it all out there. A mass of confusion—and yes, hurt. There was no divine insight, no dreams of angels telling him what to do. Just darkness. The snap of a fire. The continued thawing of his heart.

  He woke to a ting.

  Josephine stood in front of the fireplace, poking at the wood with the metal tool. The fire had died down to glowing ashes, and the room was noticeably colder.

  He sat up, pushing in the footrest. “I’ll get it.”

  “Sorry if I woke you.”

  “It’s okay.” He grabbed two more logs, setting them on the others.

  Josephine held her hands out toward the fire, the quilt draped over her shoulders.

  Noah found Shadow lying on his side a few feet away, emitting soft snores.

  “I g-guess he got hot,” she said, her teeth chattering. “Lucky dog.”

  He frowned, grabbing one of her hands. “You’re freezing.”

  “I’ll be f-fine.”

  He knew it was stupid. But some primitive need to protect her welled up inside him, compelling him to take care of her.

  If Shadow wouldn’t keep her warm, that left only Noah. And while the fleshly part of him reached for the idea with greedy hands, the common-sense section of his brain called him all kinds of fool.

  He tried to conjure up the anger he’d been nursing just yesterday, but it was nowhere to be found.

  “What time is it?” She stepped back, sitting on the sofa.

  He held the battery-operated mantel clock in front of the fire. “Two thirty. You should get some sleep.” Common sense was kicking in. The fire was stoked. She had her blankets. She wasn’t going to freeze.

  “I’m t-too cold to s-sleep.”

  He looked at her. A shivering huddle on the couch.

  Her teeth are chattering, for crying out loud. Suck it up, Mitchell.

  He went to grab his blanket off the recliner and returned to the couch, heaving a sigh. “Move over.”

  “Whatever for?”

  When she didn’t move he slid onto the sofa, easing in behind her.

  “Noah . . . what are you doing?”

  “Come on.” He pulled her down, her back to his chest.

  She resisted. “No, we shouldn’t—”

  He pulled her closer, and she gave up the struggle. As she settled against him, he ignored the ridiculous thumping of his heart, adjusting the blanket over them. He tucked it in tight, then draped his arm over her, his hand seeking a safe place to land—the edge of the sofa.

  She was as stiff as the two-by-fours framing his attic.

  “Relax.”

  “We—we shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “We’re not doing anything. We’re just staying warm, that’s all.”

  And man, did she feel good. Not just her warmth either, if he was being honest. His arm rested in the valley of her waist. Her breath stirred the hairs on the back of his hand.

  “Go to sleep,” he whispered.

  The choked sound from her throat wasn’t quite a laugh.

  He was aware of every inch where their bodies connected. That alone ignited the furnace inside him. All the better to keep them warm. His lip curled wryly at the thought.

  His nose was inches from her hair, and the tantalizing smell of her teased his nostrils, reminding him of sweeter days. Of quiet words and petal-soft skin and lingering kisses. From that first kiss, she’d completely ruined him for other women.

  He smothered a groan. Are you happy now? his common sense asked the greedy, fleshly part of him.

  Warm or no, it was going to be a long night. The sweet agony of holding her again nippe
d at him, making him wish they were back in time. Back when she’d stretched out next to him in their bed, languid and sated, that well-loved look in her eyes.

  Stop it, Mitchell.

  It wasn’t two years ago. It was now. And what did he know about her life these days? He hadn’t heard anything on the grapevine. But then, he didn’t hear much way out here. One of the blessings of living in the mountains.

  For all he knew Josephine had a boyfriend tucked away in town, wondering where she was right now. His heart rebelled at the thought, his arm tightening reflexively around her. The possessive feelings had little to do with the recent discovery that he was still her husband.

  It was unsettling how quickly she could work her way back into his heart. Or maybe she’d never left at all. That little thought was even more disturbing.

  How much time had passed since Noah had lain down behind her? It seemed like a month, but maybe that was just her. Maybe it was just the way her heart was pounding at warp speed.

  Settle down, Josephine.

  She’d told herself as much half a dozen times. But Noah was so close, one of his arms serving as a solid pillow, the other curled protectively around her. Was it any wonder she wasn’t thinking straight? How was she supposed to nod off when she was buzzing with tension?

  She’d finally managed to relax her body, sinking into the curve of his chest. What choice did she have? Her back had begun aching with the effort to maintain distance. She couldn’t deny that his warmth felt like heaven.

  She worked hard to steady her breaths, hoping her heart rate would take notice. She let the soothing sounds of the fire, the gentle rise and fall of Noah’s chest, relax her.

  She stared into the dancing flames, her mind going back to that night when Brett Connors had lured her from the bonfire. She reeled at the role the event had played in her life. Like the first domino, pushed over, the way it had shaped her teenage years.

  Once her reputation had been ruined, other boys took interest. She ignored their attention until her sophomore year, when she finally accepted senior Jude Mackey’s invitation to the movies. Her heart raced as she thought of that backseat moment at the end of the date. He’d parked on a dirt road and hadn’t been as accepting of her no as Brett had been.

  She hadn’t fought that hard—he was tall and strong, a football player. Her efforts were futile anyway. She forced her mind to go someplace else, her body to go numb. And afterward she wondered if she’d even said no at all. What did it matter? All the boys already thought she was loose. All the girls called her names.

  The next Monday she put on a new mask along with her mascara and lipstick. Eddie had been telling her for months that she was only good for one thing. She might as well embrace it. So she flirted. And she dated. And yeah, she did lots of other things. The boys leered, and the girls whispered behind cupped hands. But she was in control now. She would choose who. She would choose when.

  And if somewhere deep down inside a flicker of shame flared now and again, she doused it with smug looks and saucy smiles and the jaunty tilt of her chin. If she was only good for one thing, she was going to be darn good at it.

  Josephine closed her eyes, shutting out the fire that licked at the logs. Who was that woman? She’d disappeared when Noah Mitchell came into her life. When he’d slipped out of her grasp. Oh, she kept up with the saucy smiles and the clever quips and the coy looks. But that’s where it ended. She could only give her body for so long before her heart would follow.

  And she was never letting that happen again.

  A cloud of loneliness so big and sudden welled up within her and threatened to overwhelm her. The center of her chest tightened. She sucked in a deep, slow breath and pressed her palm against the ache.

  She suddenly needed to know she wasn’t alone. If only for tonight.

  “Noah?” she whispered.

  His breathing was slow and steady. He’d probably fallen asleep ages ago. She should leave him be. He wasn’t lonely or needy. He had Mary Beth. He was only taking care of Josephine because he was too good a person to let her suffer.

  She shifted back a bit, looking over her shoulder. The stutter of his breath gave him away.

  “Noah,” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

  He stirred, adjusting his arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m—” Lonely. Sorry. The biggest idiot in the whole wide world. “I can’t sleep.”

  “It’s easier when you’re not talking,” he grumbled.

  His answer made her smile. “I can’t stop thinking.” She paused. But when he didn’t reply, she went on, not wanting him to fall asleep again. “Does Mary Beth know I’m here?”

  He sighed, gravity pulling her body into his as his lungs emptied.

  “Yes.”

  “Does she—does she know the divorce wasn’t finalized?”

  He groaned. “It’s the middle of the night, Josie.”

  A warmth settled in her middle at the sleepy use of the nickname. Her lips curled upward. Maybe he was half-asleep, but he hadn’t called her that in so long. She didn’t know how much she’d missed it till now.

  “Are you tired?” she asked.

  He shifted, rolling to his back as much as he could in the limited space. “Not anymore.”

  His breath stirred the hair at the top of her head. The flames had died down, and it was pretty dark. But the darkness had never bothered her as long as Noah was there.

  “Want me to stoke the fire?” He sounded more awake now.

  “Not yet.” She was as toasty as she’d been all day. And now that he was awake she felt infinitely better. She relaxed into his body, the cloud of tension seeping from her muscles.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “What about me?”

  “Is there some guy who’s gonna go ten kinds of crazy because we’re still married?”

  She breathed a laugh. She hadn’t even looked twice at a man since Noah. She was many things, but slow learner was not one of them.

  Not that Noah would ever believe that. Men believed whatever they wanted.

  “No, there’s no one.”

  “That’s good. He probably wouldn’t appreciate us being wrapped up tight as a burrito.”

  “What about Mary Beth?”

  A long pause followed. He shifted back to his side, his arm coming around her once again. He felt her hand. “You warm enough?”

  “Yeah.”

  When he let go of her hand, she tucked her fist under her chin. He was solid and warm. She’d always felt so safe with him. There was something about Noah. She’d known it from the beginning. He had the kind of power to suck a girl right under if she wasn’t careful.

  “So what ever happened,” he asked, a new strain to his voice, “with you and that guy?”

  His voice was so calm it took her a moment to realize what he was asking. And when she did, her stomach clenched. A clamp tightened around her throat.

  “Never mind,” he said. “I don’t want to know.”

  Her pulse sped at the very memory of that night. The overwhelming feelings of shame and fear welled up in her as strong and sudden as a tornado.

  “Yes, I do,” he said firmly. “I do want to know.”

  He’d asked her before, the very next day, his voice raised in anger. A mask of fury and hurt she’d never seen on his face before. Never wanted to see again. Her heart twisted at the very remembrance until she felt sick with it.

  “Nothing happened,” she whispered.

  “What do you mean, nothing happened?”

  “I-I never saw him again.”

  She could feel the tension in his arms, in his middle. His breath caught a second, then quickened.

  They lay there still and tense for several heartbeats.

  “I don’t understand.” His voice was cold now. As cold as the snow trapping them here.

  She suddenly felt tired. So tired. There was nothing she could say to make him understand. It had taken a year of therapy to make any sense o
f it herself. If she tried to explain it would only come off as excuses. And there was no excusing what she’d done.

  “It is what it is, Noah. It was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

  She closed her eyes against the burning sensation behind her eyes. She wished she’d never awakened him. Because she felt even lonelier now than she ever had before.

  Chapter 17

  Copper Creek, Georgia

  One and a half years ago

  Ouch!” Josephine dropped the hammer and jerked her finger back.

  “You okay?” Noah took hold of her hand, examining her throbbing index finger.

  “The hammer slipped.” Her nerve endings tingled where he held her wrist.

  Noah had been in the shop every evening this week, framing the partition between the front door and the lobby. Being as it was a Sunday, and she was closed, she’d insisted on helping him hang drywall.

  He gave her a mock scowl that puckered his lower lip. “I thought you said you knew your way around a toolbox.”

  She gave him a wide-eyed look. “I may have exaggerated my skills just a smidge.”

  Noah chuckled, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze. “Maybe you should just observe. You’re going to need all those fingers come tomorrow.”

  “I want to help.” She heard the sulkiness in her tone, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

  Instead, his eyes softened. She was a fool for wanting to spend time with him. Noah had trouble written all over him. Not that he wasn’t an upstanding person, but he was a man, after all. And when he looked into her eyes like he was now, it was as if he cast a magic spell over her.

  He’d already asked her out twice. She’d put him off both times, flirting her way out of it so she didn’t hurt his feelings or make things awkward. She had a feeling he wasn’t giving up so easily.

  She stepped back and picked up her hammer. “Show me.” She gave him a look that had never failed her before. She really was a fool.

  The look worked.

  He pulled a nail from his tool belt and placed it between her index finger and thumb on the drywall, positioning her fingers right under his on the nail. “Hold it right like this.”