by Terri Osburn
“How serious is this?” Lorelei asked. “I thought we were talking casual fling with some awesome sex.”
“I don’t know. I’ve only known him for two weeks, really.” Stating that fact aloud brought reality crashing in. “Holy crap. I just spent the night with a man I’ve only known for two weeks. What is wrong with me?”
Molly threw her toy key ring on the floor, clearly unhappy with the lack of attention.
“Chill your diaper, chickie,” Lorelei said, bending to pick up the toy. “Your mommy is having a meltdown.” To Carrie, she said, “You’ve known him for years, you just didn’t see him for a long time. Even so, there’s nothing wrong with sleeping with a man after two weeks. Some people barely wait two days. There’s no written rule for that kind of thing.”
“We have spent a lot of time together. Sort of.” Two weeks or seven years, Carrie felt as if she’d known Noah forever. At the same time, there was so much of his life that she knew nothing about. He didn’t like talking about his time in the service, and she didn’t blame him, but what about family? Friends? Did he want to stay in Ardent Springs indefinitely? Did he want kids? And most of all, did he want more than just sex from her?
Lorelei covered Carrie’s hand with her own. “You really like this guy, don’t you?”
Unable to lie, she nodded her head. “I really like him.”
Her friend sat back with concern in her eyes. “That changes things a bit.”
Apprehension skittered down her back. “What does that mean?”
“I hate it when Spencer is right,” the other woman said, ignoring Carrie’s question.
“What is Spencer right about?”
Stirring her water once more, Lorelei said, “When I told him that we dropped you off with a box of condoms, he gave me the third degree. Wanted to know who the guy is and what I knew about him. I told him all I really knew was his name and that he’d been friends with Patch. As you can imagine, that didn’t go over well.”
Carrie tensed. “Noah is nothing like Patch.”
“That may be true, but Spencer remembers him. Said he was a hothead with a rep for being an arrogant ass. I barely talked him out of driving over to get you.”
Anger brewed to life. “Because, of course, I can’t be trusted to know what is and isn’t good for me, and I have to be watched and coddled and saved from my own bad decisions.”
“Honey, that’s not how it is.”
“I get that I’ve earned the skepticism, but I won’t let anyone insult Noah. He’s a good man, Lorelei. He’s been through hell and back, and he’s still wonderful with Molly and makes me feel like I’m worth something again.”
“You were always worth something.” Lorelei waved the approaching waitress off. “We care about you, that’s all. Spencer was being overprotective, but you can’t blame him for wanting to protect you. He still blames himself for not seeing what Patch was doing to you.”
What was it with the men in her life wanting to take the blame for something that had nothing to do with them?
“I appreciate what you and Spencer and everyone else have done for me and Molly. Lord knows where we’d be without you. But I don’t need a keeper. And I won’t stand for anyone being less than kind and respectful to Noah. Spencer doesn’t have to like him, but he won’t disrespect him either.”
“Does Noah feel the same way about you?” she asked.
Doubt reared its ugly head. “I think so,” she said. “I hope so.”
With a nod, Lorelei said, “Then I hope so, too. You deserve to be happy. If Noah is the man to do that for you, then I’m all for him.”
The support meant a lot. “Thank you. Now we should probably let our poor, hovering waitress come take our orders.”
The plastic keys went flying again.
Lorelei retrieved them once more. “Throw them again, stinker, and they’re staying on the floor.”
Carrie smiled at her daughter’s infectious giggle, but the barrage of doubts and fears now dancing through her brain stole her appetite. No way would she scare Noah off by demanding to know how he felt about her. Their farewell that morning had taken more than fifteen minutes because he’d refused to let her go. That had to mean something. Something more than physical pleasure.
She wasn’t an idiot. If Noah wanted sex, he could drive into town and get it from anyone he wanted. He didn’t need to bed the widow next door to get his rocks off. They’d made plans to see each other this evening, which bolstered Carrie’s confidence and put a smile on her face.
Once her friends met him, all of this would go away. They’d see that Noah was good for her. They’d come around eventually.
“Molly, honey, don’t run over Wilson’s tail.” Carrie would expect the cat to have learned by now and keep to higher elevations when the walker was in use.
“That cat is huge,” Noah pointed out, popping a cherry tomato between his teeth. “I’ve never seen a cat that big.”
This was not a new sentiment. Every person who entered Carrie’s house, be it the cable installer or her friends, commented on the size of her feline. And to all she gave the same response.
“He’s just big-boned is all. Huh, Wilson? You’re the perfect size, buddy. Don’t let anyone give you a complex.”
The black cat hefted himself onto the back of the couch.
“I don’t think big bones are his problem.”
“Shh . . .” Carrie dropped a handful of the tomatoes into a salad bowl. “Leave my poor cat alone. He’s beautiful just the way he is.”
“So are you,” Noah said, taking her by surprise. He wasn’t the type to toss around romantic compliments.
“Flattery won’t get you out of peeling these potatoes,” she said, pointing toward the bag at the end of the counter. “We had a deal.”
Noah pulled three knives from the block before he found the paring knife. “I’m willing to work for my supper.” Lifting the spuds, he said, “You got a couple bowls so I can do this at the table? There isn’t much room in here for two of us.”
When picking out her trailer, Carrie hadn’t expected to have a man helping out in the kitchen. Even if by some miracle she did risk her heart again, in her world, men did not participate in food preparation.
Pulling a large mixing bowl from a bottom cupboard, she said, “You can pull the garbage can over for the skins and drop the clean spuds in here.”
Without argument, Noah took his food and tools to the table. They’d been working in silence for nearly a minute when he said, “I ran into Patch’s baby sister about a week ago.”
Kyra Farmer had never been one of Carrie’s favorite people, and the feeling was mutual. Ever since the spoiled brat had demanded that Carrie buy her alcohol, and then proceeded to throw an unholy fit when told no, the two had been at odds. Even years later, no family gathering passed without Kyra sliding a backhanded insult in her sister-in-law’s direction. Carrie had fired back only once and had paid a painful price later that night.
“Really?” she asked, thankful he couldn’t see her face. No matter what he knew now, Patch and Noah had been friends for a long time, and that meant that Noah knew the entire Farmer family.
“How often do you see his family?” he asked.
“Not often,” she answered, bending to check the chicken in the oven.
“Why not?” he asked. “Patch was Althea’s only son. No matter what he did to you, she should be part of Molly’s life, don’t you think?”
Spinning to face him, she said, “The last time I took my daughter to see her grandmother she was five months old. As babies do, she got curious and stuck her fingers in Althea’s ashtray. Before I could react, that woman smacked my child’s hand hard enough to leave a welt that lasted several hours.” Reaching into an upper cupboard, she slammed two plates onto the counter. “Patch wasn’t an anomaly in that family. They’re all cut from the same cloth.”
Shaking from the outburst, Carrie leaned on the counter behind her only to leap forward when the hot
oven door touched her legs.
“Careful, honey,” he said, dropping a half-peeled potato into the bowl and rising to his feet. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Embarrassed, she opened the silverware drawer and withdrew two forks, two butter knives, and one of Molly’s colorful spoons. “I don’t want to talk about that family anymore.”
“You don’t have to,” Noah said, coming up behind her to slide his hands down her arms. “Forget I said anything.”
Anger fading, Carrie turned to face him, pressing her forehead to his chest. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”
“My fault for sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.” With one finger beneath her chin, he nudged her head up. “You’re a good mother, Carrie.”
A compliment that meant a great deal more than the last one.
“Thank you,” she whispered, rising on tiptoe as Noah leaned down for a kiss. The moment he deepened the connection, something solid slammed into their legs.
“What the—”
“Language,” she said, looking down into the face of her smiling cherub. “Did I mention she’s deadly with the walker?”
Instead of complaining about the interruption, Noah swooped Molly into the air, carrying her into the living room while making propeller sounds. “It’s the amazing flying baby. Look at her go.” Peals of laughter filled the trailer as he brought her down just enough to blow raspberries on her belly. Molly smacked both hands against his forehead, and he lifted her for another flight around the room.
Carrie watched the pair play, drinking in the sound of Noah’s carefree laughter. She’d never heard him laugh like that before. Never seen him this relaxed and happy. When he dropped onto the couch to bounce the baby on his knee, something scary yet undeniable flowed through her chest. She wasn’t just in deep. She was in love.
Chapter 14
Noah had found his magic pill. In the week since Carrie first occupied his bed, only two nightmares had disturbed his sleep. And neither featured the widow and her little girl. He still didn’t sleep much, but that had more to do with starting his evenings in her bed and then spending the rest of the night wanting her from his.
Before they’d moved activities to her place, he and Carrie had discussed the issue of Molly. At ten months old (as of three days earlier), she didn’t understand what they were doing and wasn’t likely to have a problem with her newest spoiler taking up residence. But Carrie still felt uncomfortable letting Noah stay the night. She and the child had a pattern that included bringing Molly into her bed if she woke in the wee hours of the morning. Eventually, that might work with three in the bed, but he respected the single mother’s wishes and took his leave each night, typically somewhere around midnight.
He appreciated that Carrie never insisted on traditional dates. Crowds weren’t his thing, and he’d much rather spend a couple of hours with her curled against him on the couch than sit across from her in some restaurant. She made no demands. Never talked about the future or asked questions that he couldn’t answer. She had to be curious. At times, he’d even been tempted to share some of his experiences. To help her understand the shit in his head. But to do so would be shifting his burden onto her shoulders, and he refused to do that to her.
She had enough baggage of her own.
Today was her ex-husband’s wedding. When she’d told him about the time and place, Noah had feared she’d expect him to go with her. To his relief, she’d never extended the invitation, saving him the need to turn her down. A church full of strangers sizing up the hairy oaf with the pretty widow was not his idea of a fun Saturday afternoon.
Around the time he assumed she’d be leaving, a white Ford Edge pulled down her drive. A short redhead climbed from the passenger side and crossed around the front to join the driver. The woman wore jeans and a black T-shirt. Not exactly wedding attire. The driver looked like a politician with perfect blond hair and a tan sport jacket. The redhead straightened the guy’s tie before heading for Carrie’s front door.
Curiosity getting the best of him, Noah stepped onto the porch as Mr. Fancy Pants strolled up the drive. If the constant tightening of the tie and tucking of the shirt were any indication, the man was nervous. But what the hell was he nervous about?
Carrie answered the knock at her door and stepped into the sun wearing a pretty blue number. She’d swept her hair into a clip on the back of her head and fought the wind to keep the few stray strands out of her eyes. When the driver climbed the stairs, he gave Carrie a hug that made Noah want to rip his head off. He descended his own steps, cracking his knuckles on the way down.
Over Suit Boy’s shoulder, Carrie spotted him and broke the hug, but the stranger kept his arm around her, seemingly clueless to the danger lurking across the fence. The shorter woman carried on a short discussion with Carrie before disappearing into the house. The two remaining outside headed for the Ford, appearing for all intents and purposes like a couple embarking on a date.
“Hey,” Noah said. “What’s going on?”
“I’m going to the wedding, remember?”
“Yeah. I remember. And him?” he asked, gesturing with his chin toward the dude beside her.
“I’m Dale Lambdon,” Pretty Boy offered, extending a hand. “I’m the lucky guy taking Carrie to the wedding.”
Noah crossed his arms to keep from ripping the asshole to shreds. “Is that so?”
Dale awkwardly lowered his hand. “I’m glad to know there’s someone out here with Carrie now. I worried about her living so far from town all alone.”
“You can stop worrying,” he said. “She’s well protected.”
“Good. Good.”
“Dale, could you give me one minute with Noah, please?”
The interloper smiled. “Sure. I’ll wait in the car.”
“Thanks.” Carrie stepped closer to the gate. “Are you angry?”
“You have a date for the wedding?”
“I’m going with Dale, yes. But—”
“That’s all I need to know.” Noah spun, gritting his teeth to keep his temper in check. He wanted to punch something. Preferably Pretty Boy’s face.
“Noah, wait. Let me explain.”
Slamming into the house, he marched straight through to the back door, never breaking stride. He’d hung a punching bag in the barn earlier in the week. No time like the present to break it in. Before he reached his destination, Noah heard tires crunch over gravel as the Edge backed out of Carrie’s driveway. A steady drumbeat kicked in his temple as he dragged the sliding door open, and without reaching for the overhead light, he plugged his phone into the speaker and cranked the music.
As his fists connected with the bag, Noah cursed himself for being a fool. No wonder she didn’t need him to take her on fancy dates. She had that duty covered.
The only reason Carrie climbed into Dale’s car was because she knew Noah needed time to cool off. When she returned in a few hours, he’d have calmed down and would be more willing to listen. Less than a mile down the road, his stricken expression stuck with her. He’d been angry. There’d been no doubt about that. But he’d also been hurt. Telling him ahead of time that Dale was taking her to the wedding would have been the smart thing to do. Except she’d assumed that he’d know this date meant nothing. They’d spent every night together. Made love in her bed countless times.
He had to know that she wouldn’t spend her nights with him and still see someone else. Then again, she’d done this before, right? She’d cheated on her husband. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Wasn’t that how the saying went?
“Go back,” she said.
“What?” Dale let his foot off the gas. “Did you forget to tell Mya something? We can call her.”
“No.” Carrie shook her head, twisting in her seat to see Noah’s house. “Take me back. I can’t do this.”
Dale pulled off the road and put the SUV in park. “You can’t do what? Carrie, what’s going on?”
Desperate to mak
e him turn around, Carrie looked her driver in the eye. “I’m sorry, Dale, but I never should have let this go on so long. You’re a great guy, and you’ll find a great girl someday. But that girl isn’t me. Now, please. Take me back to Noah.”
“But what about the wedding?”
“I don’t care about the wedding right now. Turn around or let me out so I can run on my own.”
“I will never understand women,” he mumbled, making a U-turn. Before the vehicle came to a full stop, Carrie’s feet were on the ground. “I’m sorry, Dale. I’m really sorry,” she called, pulling off her heels so she could run across the grass. Relieved to find the front door unlocked, she pushed her way inside. “Noah! Noah, where are you?”
Silence answered.
“The barn.” A shoe in each hand, Carrie charged out the back door and across the yard. Music blared through the old wooden walls. Smart enough not to make the same mistake twice, she went for the speaker first. The music cut off, and she searched the dim interior to find him. “Noah, please let me explain.”
“I’m not interested,” came a voice from the back corner, heavy with emotion.
God, she’d really hurt him.
Stepping around a partially assembled motorcycle, she said, “Noah, I agreed to go to the wedding with Dale weeks before you moved in.”
“Good for Dale.”
“He’s been taking me out for months, and I thought if I kept spending time with him that I’d eventually feel what he feels. He’s a nice guy. He’s safe. I thought that’s what I wanted.” Her eyes adjusted to the low light, and she spotted him with his forehead pressed to a giant bag. “But I was wrong. About all of it.”
“No, you were right,” he said, stepping back and throwing two quick punches at the bag. “You deserve someone safe.”
“Noah, you have to listen to me.” Three more punches. “Dammit, Noah Winchester. The reason I know I’ll never love Dale Lambdon, or anyone else, is because I’m in love with you.”
The brutal attack on the bag ceased, and his eyes locked on hers. “What did you say?”
