CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Noah felt stupid carrying two pizzas and wandering through the rows of trailers listening for the sounds of a party. He wasn’t even sure what had made him decide to come. Besides the fact that Sara was at her mother’s, and he was currently in limbo after submitting over a dozen aid applications and facing an evening of small talk in his own living room with a basketball game on.
Besides, Drake had insisted. And the truce was still on. And, if Noah was being completely honest with himself, he wanted to see Cat again. She’d kissed him today, knowing it was him. And though it had been the kind of kiss she’d just given her sister-in-law, it had stirred his blood yet again. And he’d left before he could yank her out of Drake’s arms and resume their alleyway make-out session.
So here he was, standing outside a monstrous RV that sounded like it was hosting a frat party and debating if he should knock.
He gave the door a kick with his foot.
“Noah,” Henry, glass of red wine in hand, greeted him warmly when he pried open the inner door. “Come join the festivities.”
He was relieved of the pizzas and handed a beer in the span of three seconds before Drake dragged him into the fray.
“Hey, man. Good to see you.”
“Thanks for the invite.” It was a chaotic circus inside the trailer. There were twenty people crammed into the kitchen/dining/living space. All laughing and talking at the same time. It felt like he’d just walked in on someone’s raucous family dinner.
He flashed back to his mother’s quiet, stifling Thanksgiving meals. As much as it crushed him to be without Sara on the holiday, he’d been the one to suggest that Mellody take Sara to her family’s meal. At least Sara wouldn’t have the same childhood shadows that he had.
“Guys, do you all know Noah?” Drake yelled above the general volume.
“Hi, Noah!”
“Hi… everyone.” He raised his beer.
“Noah’s turn to give a toast to Cat!” A girl with cotton candy pink highlights—dear lord, please don’t ever let Sara meet this woman—clapped her hands together.
He spotted her then. Crammed in between production and construction crews at the dining table, laughing. She’d washed off the camera makeup and, barefaced, looked so pretty he wondered why she ever bothered covering it all up. She was wearing a long-sleeve Kings Construction t-shirt that had seen at least a million washings. Her hair, still holding the curl from shooting was pulled into a high ponytail.
The joy he’d seen exploding out of her this afternoon was still there crackling visibly under the surface. It had been something to behold. Noah wasn’t used to over emotional reactions to anything… unless they originated from a twelve-year-old who thought he was being “soooo unfaaaaair.”
It drew him in. That brightness. He was pulled toward it like it was a magnetic force. She was so unlike anyone else he’d ever known. Anything he was used to. Even though he knew she’d undoubtedly rake him over the coals, he just wanted to see that brightness again.
Cat stared at him, more amused than angry for the moment. “I would love to hear a toast from Noah,” she purred.
Danger! Danger! His inner fight or flight instincts warned him. But Noah was feeling a little reckless tonight.
He cleared his throat. “To Catalina King, a memorable woman.”
“To Cat!” the misfit crowd echoed.
Cat’s lips, pink and glossed curved up. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Yates.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” he cautioned and was rewarded with an eye roll.
“Where’s Sara tonight?” she asked, sliding closer to the bearded guy with the nose ring as someone levered Noah into a seat at the end of the table.
Was she asking to show off the fact that she could recall his daughter’s name? Or did she actually care? “She’s at her mother’s, hopefully studying for her biology quiz.”
“Hmm,” was Cat’s only response.
The volume picked back up, and Noah felt himself drawn into a few conversations at the same time. What were the Patriots’ Super Bowl chances? Nil, since he was a hardcore Jets fan. Where did the pizza come from because it was awesome? A little place called Pranav’s Pizza run by an Indian man and his Italian wife. The curry chicken pie was to die for. Was he putting his money on Cat for the most epic Christmas Festival in the history of Merry?
“Noah’s reserving judgment on that one,” Cat answered for him with an arch of her eyebrow.
“If she delivers what she says she can,” Noah ventured, “it would be a festival for the history books.”
“And I will proudly rub your face in it.”
“Awh, look at you two getting along so nicely,” Henry said over the rim of his wineglass. “Paige would be so proud.”
There was a thump at the RV door and a disjointed chorus of “Come in.” The man who wedged his way inside was broad and tall and vaguely annoyed. He wore his dark hair cut short, and was sporting a Kings Construction hoodie that stretched across his chest. His frown transformed into a crooked grin when Cat whistled from where she was holding court.
“Gannon King is in the house!” Cat crowed.
Noah made a mental note to keep his mind clear of all things Cat-naked related while in the presence of Gannon. He’d never had a brother, but he imagined there was some sort of telepathy that would alert them to impure thoughts about their sisters.
“Yeah, yeah,” Gannon grumbled. “I’m the life of the party.” He snagged a beer out of Drake’s fridge.
“Where’s my Gabby girl?” Cat asked crawling over laps to hug her brother.
“Snoring in bed. Paige is ready to drop too. But I couldn’t not celebrate you going back to school.”
They clinked drinks and shared a one-armed hug.
“Proud of you, Cat. This is a big deal.”
Noah watched as color creeped up Cat’s cheeks. “Awh. Shut up.” She wiggled out from under his arm and Noah wondered if she was actually embarrassed by the praise. The Cat he assumed he knew would bask in the limelight.
“You want pizza? Noah brought some,” Cat made the offer to Gannon. The way she said his name so casually as if he hadn’t had his tongue halfway down her throat a week ago flustered Noah. And then he remembered he wasn’t supposed to be thinking those thoughts.
What was he doing here?
“I think I met you unofficially back when we were here shooting the first time,” Gannon said, offering a hand.
Noah shook it. “Right. Yeah. It’s good to have you back.”
“Glad we could lend a hand. We’re making some good progress on the residential side. I haven’t checked out Reggie’s diner yet, but the contractor on that job mentioned things are on schedule.”
Noah nodded. “Reggie’s excited that he should be able to reopen after Thanksgiving.”
“Should be a good episode,” Gannon predicted. “You getting used to TV crews all over town yet?”
“Nope. I walked into the grocery store yesterday, and there was a camera crew following Mrs. Pringle around in her scooter.”
“Couple more weeks, and we’ll be out of your hair.”
Funny how that didn’t sound as good now that he’d tasted Cat.
“Time to progress,” Cat called over the ruckus.
Drinks were finished with enthusiasm, cups and bottles piled into the sink.
“Let’s go, Yates,” Cat said giving him a push toward the door. Noah couldn’t help but wonder if Cat too felt the frisson of electricity when she touched him.
They filed out into the cold night. Fall had surrendered to an early winter. Not that Noah minded. Growing up in Merry, winter was required to be your favorite season.
They piled into a smaller, less-new RV, the quarters close enough to resemble a sardine can, but no one seemed to mind.
“Damn it, Eddie! Where are the snacks?” Cat demanded from the depths of the tiny refrigerator.
The booing was unanimous.
“That’s what you get for working me late,” Eddie snapped back good-naturedly.
They’d already devoured the pizza, and finding a restaurant that was open at this time in Merry wasn’t going to happen.
“Ugh. Fine. I’ll hit the grocery store. But that means I’m getting things I like,” Cat announced.
“Someone better go with her,” a production assistant joked.
“It’s literally fifty feet away.”
“Yeah, but we want beer and snacks,” Eddie called out. “You’ll need extra hands.”
“I’ll go.” Noah volunteered.
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Cat or him.
“Are you two going to need a babysitter?” Drake teased.
“I’m not helping either one of you with the body,” Henry chimed in.
“So, dramatic,” Cat complained. “Two adults who don’t like each other can go to the grocery store without committing a murder.”
“Not when one of those adults is you,” Gannon pointed out.
Cat flipped her brother the bird and stuck her tongue out.
Gannon reciprocated by rubbing his eye with his middle finger. “Oh, sorry. I seem to have something in my eye.”
“I’m surrounded by comedians,” Cat complained and wedged her way through the crowd toward the door. “Let’s go, Yates.”