Chapter Thirteen

 

For the first time since his father died, Noah felt like some of the crushing weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The guilt was still there—he wasn’t sure that would ever go away—but it had eased a bit. Before today, he’d never considered telling anyone his deep dark secret. In fact, he’d planned to take it to his own grave, but somehow, he had found himself wanting to tell her. He suspected she was the only person who might truly understand.

Someone else might have wanted a different reaction from her—hugs and murmurs of semi-sincere sympathy—but Libby had given him exactly what he needed: she’d insisted his father’s death wasn’t his fault and she’d put his experience into perspective.

Her admission that she’d suffered hardships of her own wasn’t a surprise. Based on the stories she’d told him about her past, he knew she had a tendency to push men away, or more accurately, she would hold them at arm’s length and dump them when things bordered on serious. In retrospect, it wasn’t surprising she’d stayed with Mitch for so long. He was totally different from her usual type—good-looking, emotionally distant, somewhat narcissistic bad boys.

In a nutshell, guys like Noah.

But there had to be some reason she would consistently pick men who were destined to never last more than a few weeks, and he suspected it had something to do with her cougar mother and her absent father.

Noah only wished his admission had triggered Libby to open up. But it had the opposite effect: she clammed up for over an hour after that, only talking again when they stopped for her to pee while he got gas, about an hour outside of Hoover Dam. The glances she gave him let him know that she was wrestling her own demons. His confession had stirred them up.

She started to warm up as the dam got closer. “I want to park in that area where Salma Hayek is sitting when Matthew Perry finds her.”

“You’re not planning to sit on that ledge, are you?” he asked in alarm. “That’s a several-hundred-foot drop.”

She shrugged, wearing a faint grin. “Maybe.”

He wasn’t sure he could stand back and watch her do that, and he was once again surprised by his protective instincts. Noah McMillan was a self-centered man. He was fully aware of it. It had ruled his life for nearly fifteen years. If he let his instincts toward Libby take full rein, what would happen to him? Would he lose himself entirely? But given the life he’d lived, was that really a bad thing?

“They would have never worked out in real life,” she said.

He blinked, realizing he’d missed part of what she’d said. “Salma and Matt? Why? What Hollywood gossip do you know?”

“Not the actors, the couple in the movie. Isabel and Alex. They were just too different.”

His heart lightened. “So if too different is bad, then similar is good?”

“Yeah.” She looked confused. “Maybe.”

He let it drop because a sign for the dam appeared and Libby perked up and begged him for a coin.

“I want to throw it over the side when we reach the middle of the dam. Just like in the movie.”

Grinning, Noah dug out a quarter and handed it to her. He would have given her a twenty-dollar bill to toss out the window if he’d thought it would bring her out of her sullen mood.

But when they pulled into the entrance of the dam, Libby’s enthusiasm waned when she realized they couldn’t drive over the dam. 

“National security,” a security officer who guarded the entrance told her when she asked. “You can thank 9/11 for that.”

She was quiet when they walked out of the parking garage and toward the blocked-off road.

“It’s okay, Lib. It’s only slightly different. You can stand in the middle of the dam and toss it over.”

She nodded, still lost in herself.

He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her to his side as they walked. When they reached the middle, she stopped and looked over the edge.

“The water’s a lot lower than in the movie.”

“Drought,” Noah said. “I’ve heard the lake is at a record low.”

“So nothing’s as I expected.”

To anyone else, Libby would appear to be sulking over something trivial, but he knew how her mind worked. This was connected to something bigger and he suspected it had to do with her aborted wedding. “Sometimes that’s not a bad thing.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with sadness.

He wasn’t used to seeing her so down. That was one thing he loved about her, her ability to find the good in the bad. He just needed to remind her of it now. “You know that whole saying about God closing a door and opening a window. Or is it closing a window and opening a door?” He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows playfully. “Or maybe it’s like Alice jumping down the hole to Wonderland.”

She grinned. “I get what you’re saying. But I’m turning thirty tomorrow and look at my life.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Yeah, look at it. You have two great childhood friends who love you enough to hunt me down and skin me alive.”

“Who were completely oblivious to the fact I didn’t love Mitch.” He’d give her that. It had ticked him off too.

“Okay, so they’ve been a bit self-centered and clueless lately. But you have a career you love.”

“Which doesn’t pay shit and interferes with the whole responsible adult gig.”

“Hey, I saved the best for last. You have me.”

A strange look filled her eyes, and for a second he thought she was going to reach up and kiss him. Instead she wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Yeah, I have you.”

“Libby, you know you can talk to me. I know something’s bothering you.”

“It’s my birthday. I had . . . a wish I was sure would come true, but it didn’t. Now I’m questioning everything.”

“Sometimes questioning everything is good. It puts you on the right track.” Didn’t he know that firsthand? Meeting her was what had made him question everything, and he didn’t want to go back.

“Look at you.” She lifted her head and grinned up at him. “Noah McMillan: life coach.”

“Maybe I’ll make it my new career.”

Worry flickered in her eyes. “Is something wrong with your old one?”

The wind blew her hair into her face. Without thinking, he reached up and tucked the strands behind her ear. “It’s always good to keep your options open.”

She nestled her cheek against his chest and they stood like that for nearly a minute. He marveled that he could be this close to her without planning on how to get her into bed. Not that he didn’t want to get her into bed, but that wasn’t what she needed.

Was this real love? Being with someone and somehow getting something from it even if sex or talking wasn’t part of it. For the first time he got what people meant about growing old with the one they loved.

In the scheme of his life, this was such a small moment, yet every preconceived notion about love was being chucked over the edge of the dam. He’d always thought true love—a love worthy of a lifetime commitment—was full of fireworks and passion. He had never suspected there could be more. His love for Libby was like a river of peace threading through his troubled soul. She quieted his demons and made him believe he could be a better person. That he had a purpose in the world. And while he wanted fireworks and passion, he now realized he needed both.

He kissed the top of her head, letting his lips linger longer than he should have. He expected her to back away and break the moment, but she hung on tight.

“I want to throw the coin together,” she said. “I want to share our wish.”

He wanted to share more than that, but it was a start. “What if we wish for different things?”

She shrugged, a grin lighting up her face as she looked up at him. “Then I guess the one who wishes the hardest will win.”

“Challenge accepted.”

She laughed. “It wasn’t a challenge.”

“It most certainly was. If you tell a guy something’s a test of strength or will, you better believe he’ll try his damnedest to win.”

“Fine.” She grinned as she dug the coin out of her pocket and held it up. “How do we do this?”

“How about you hold it and I’ll cover your hand with mine?”

“I think both of us should touch it,” she said. “Then we can just drop it.”

He shook his head. He knew how superstitious she could be. He wasn’t superstitious at all, but he’d agree to anything she wanted. “How about you hold out your hand.” He grabbed her hand and turned it palm up, spreading out her fingers, then placed the quarter on her palm.

Her body stiffened slightly and she sucked in a tiny breath.

Noah had been around enough women to know when one had a physical reaction to him.

Could she really want him?

With his index finger, he lightly traced around the coin in her palm. “Do you know what you’re going to wish?” he asked, his voice huskier than he’d intended. But now that he knew she might want him physically, his body was ready to go from zero to sixty in less than two seconds.

“Yes.” Her voice was low and she kept her eyes on her hand. “Now what?”

Was she talking about them or the coin? But even if she was talking about them, he knew he had to take it slow.

“Now I put my hand over yours.” He did just that, lacing their fingers together and pressing the coin between their palms. “Then we hold our hands over the edge and on the count of three, we let it drop.”

“Okay.”

They maneuvered their arms over the edge and she looked up at him, the sadness in her eyes replaced with hope.

“One,” she whispered.

Her chest was still pressed to his, their hands linked, and Noah realized he’d never felt more connected to anyone in his life.

“Two.”

What was she going to wish for? Was it fair to hope his was stronger than hers? All he knew was what his heart wanted. Her. He’d heard love was stronger than any force in existence. His wish might prove if that was true.

“Three.” By unspoken agreement, they kept their fingers linked and opened their palms. The coin dropped, but they continued to look into each other’s eyes for several seconds.

Libby finally lowered her hand and released his, looking over the edge of the dam. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

The change of subject was so abrupt, he chuckled. “I told you that you have a bladder the size of a thimble.”

“I do not.”

“I’d challenge you to prove it by holding your pee until we get to Caesar’s Palace, but I don’t want to pay for the rental car to be detailed.”

She laughed and smacked his arm. “You’re a cruel man, Noah McMillan.”

“You like me that way.”

They stopped outside of the restroom and she looked up at him, her eyes twinkling. “I’ll never admit it.”

“I’d never expect you to.”

She continued to stare up at him and he wondered what she wanted. Did she want him to make the first move? But he couldn’t. Not yet.

Then she disappeared into the bathroom and he pulled out his phone to call his brother. Noah suspected her thirtieth birthday wish was to be married, but it didn’t make sense that she would care this much about a pact she and her friends made when they were kids. Other than Mitch, Libby had made no real attempt at a relationship. The goal of getting married by a set date didn’t fit her behavior over the last decade. He hoped Josh knew something that could help him understand what was going on with her.

“I’m surprised to hear from you,” Josh said, sounding condescending. “Has something happened to Libby?”

“Nothing has happened to Libby.” Noah tried to remind himself once again that he’d earned his brother’s distrust. “But I am calling about her.”

“If this is about her driver’s license, Gram’s bringing it.”

“Bringing it?”

Josh laughed, but it sounded like he had something up his sleeve. “Megan’s grandma caught Libby’s bouquet when she tossed it while running to your car. Gram heard you were going to Vegas, so she decided to head there herself to find a man for a quickie wedding. In fact, she’s probably checking into Caesar’s Palace as we speak.”

“And Megan’s mother let her?”

“She may be in her seventies and she may be a bit eccentric, but she’s not senile. Knickers really couldn’t stop her,” Josh said. “Besides, when Megan realized she couldn’t be talked out of it, she convinced Gram to act as your chaperone.”

“Our what?”

“You don’t mind Gram hanging around, do you?” Noah heard the challenge in his brother’s voice. If Noah was up to no good with Megan’s friend, he wouldn’t have reason to protest. While Noah appreciated Gram’s eccentricity more than most people, he wasn’t sure he wanted her hanging around. Josh had him. “That works out for us. In fact, we’re checking in tonight instead of tomorrow. So she came by herself?”

“No, believe it or not, she’s brought Garrett’s nana with her too.”

“Oh, God.” Everyone knew they’d hit it off at Blair’s reception for the wedding that didn’t happen, but a trip to Vegas together? “How’d they arrange it so quickly?”

“It’s Gram. That says it all. I’ll text you her number so you can arrange to meet her somewhere.”

“Yeah,” he said absently. “Thanks.”

“Now what were you calling about?” 

Noah hesitated, wondering how much to tell him. “Something’s going on with Libby. She’s not herself.”

“Well, she did just dump a guy at the altar.”

He shook his head, wondering how much to tell of what he knew. It only took him a millisecond to realize he didn’t want to break her trust. He’d play dumb. “No, that’s not it. It’s something else. Something bigger. She’s upset that she hasn’t reached some goal by her thirtieth birthday. Do you have any idea what it is?”

Josh groaned. “It’s that stupid curse.”

“Yes,” Noah said, getting excited. This sounded exactly like something that would motivate her. “When we talked about Libby getting married, you said something about a wedding curse. But you didn’t remember the details.”

“That stupid curse and pact have been about the only thing Megan and Blair have talked about since the wedding.”

Noah glanced toward the restroom door, wondering how much time he had left. “So enlighten me.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure I should tell you anything. You should ask her yourself.”

The bathroom door opened and Libby came out, but she stopped to say something to a little girl who was walking out with her mother. Noah started to panic. He hadn’t learned anything. “Josh! What about the curse? This is important.”

“They all made a pact when they were girls. Megan and Blair didn’t even remember it, let alone take the curse part seriously.”

Libby was heading toward him now. “The pact is the curse?”

“No. The pact was that they were all supposed to be married by thirty. A fortune teller cursed them. She told them their weddings would be a disaster and each of them would end up marrying someone else. The person they were destined to marry.”

“Thanks.” He hung up, still dazed as he watched her make her way to him.

Libby had asked Mitch to marry her. She’d tried to set the curse in motion. But whom had she wanted to marry instead? Could it be him? But maybe not. Blair had broken up with Garrett years before her wedding to Neil, and Megan hadn’t even met Josh until the week of her wedding. Both men had needed to convince their now-wives that they were meant to be together.

Libby stopped in front of him and a smile lit up her face.

And suddenly, Noah had hope they could work out after all.