Chapter Fifteen
Noelle sat at her kitchen table, staring at Wes. The apron he wore looked even sillier with his hands tucked into his pants pockets. Moments before she’d been lost in the pure heaven that was his lips on hers, the mixture of caramel and Wes a flavor she’d not soon forget. But now her mind reeled with what he’d just told her.
How could he have known about the deal all along and not said anything? She had been blabbing to him each time they baked together, and even when he’d brought her dinner at the studio. He’d had ample time to enlighten her on details, but instead he let her worry and jabber on like a fool.
The chair across from her scraped on the linoleum as he pulled it back to sit down.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, Noelle. But I wanted to have more details before I did. Adding to any rumors you had heard wouldn’t help things.”
He had a point. But it was a flimsy one.
“After I got here, my dad asked me to look at Spellman’s plans. They work in the same industry.”
“You’ve known since you got here?” Her voice rose again, all grace she was ready to give him from his previous point now on its way out the window.
“Not exactly. No.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
He leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the table. Noelle could see how, even in an apron that said, “Real Men Bake Cookies,” the man could command a room. Everything in her wanted to be mad at him, and she was mad, but his countenance said that he was in complete control of the conversation.
“I initially came to Marietta to visit my family. My dad asked me my opinion on the situation. He’s worked in broadcasting and television his whole life. He has some real estate, yes, but it’s not his strongest suit and he’s willing to admit that. He wanted my advice and I was more than willing to give it to him.”
His eyes never left hers as he spoke. “When I first arrived, I had little time to look into anything because he volunteered me for this Bake-Off.” He motioned to her kitchen with one hand. He may have even rolled his eyes, but she couldn’t be sure, the movement was so brief. “By the time I was able to actually read through any documents, we’d spent time together and by then…” His hands were locked together in front of him on the table. He looked at them, his demeanor softening a bit. “By then, I felt it best to wait and not say anything to you until I had more information.”
“And you think this is a good thing? This deal?”
“I met with Ronald in New York. I’m not a fan of the guy, but after speaking with him, I think it could be good for Marietta.”
Noelle’s eyes narrowed as her heart sped up in her chest. “You met with him while we were in New York?”
Wes leaned back in his chair, the air of controlling the situation back in the lift of his shoulders, the tightness of his jaw. He was in full business mode. No emotion. No softness in his eyes. The blue was cold. Solid. The complete opposite of the deep color they’d been right before he’d kissed caramel off her lips. “I did.”
She fought back the urge to cry. Not only had he made a fool of her by never admitting anything when they’d talked before, but the trip to New York wasn’t about her at all, or any feelings he might have for her. It was about business.
“I see.”
“What is it you think you see, Noelle?” His rigidity was beginning to irritate.
She sat taller in her chair. “New York was about work. It wasn’t about thanking me for anything. It wasn’t about us.” She stood and moved to the sink. The ceramic of her coffee mug clanked as she rinsed it out and set it down. Whether the trembling of her hands was from anger or frustration she wasn’t sure. Maybe both. “What am I saying? There is no ‘us.’ I’ve helped you survive a silly Bake-Off. Nothing more.”
She looked out the kitchen window. Well, if one could call it that. It was more of a two foot by two foot square above the sink. But it allowed her to see the Marietta Elementary School campus. A beautiful property with big trees and lots of space for kids to run and play. Her kids—her students. The ones she’d come to know and love.
“Noelle.” The deep timbre of his voice moved through her, trying to break through the hurt, but she wouldn’t let it.
“It’s okay, Wes. Really.” She turned to him, crossing her arms in front of her as armor, leaning back against the counter away from him. “I get it. You’re a successful businessman. You didn’t get where you are by making bad decisions, or letting your emotions get in the way.”
“Noelle.” He leaned forward in his chair.
“We had a lovely time in New York. Truly. I’ll always be grateful. But that’s your life and your world. Where you belong. You shouldn’t concern yourself with what happens here.”
“I have every reason to be concerned with what happens here, and who things happen to.” He stood and stepped toward her. When their eyes met, she battled to keep the tears away. They sat on the edge of her lashes, threatening to fall, but she swallowed them down, along with her pride.
“I had to make sure I had all the information I wanted before…”
“I get it, Wes. I do.” She raised her hand between them to cut off his attempt to take another step closer. “You wanted control of the situation, and you got it.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not controlling anything, Noelle. I’m not even a part of this deal.” He ran a hand through his hair, the other he tucked again into his pants pocket. “You told me about some rumor. I figured out it was connected to my dad. I wanted to be sure it wasn’t bad for you, and in my opinion, it’s not. I honestly have no idea why you’re so upset. I was trying to protect you.”
“Making me feel like a fool doesn’t protect me from anything.”
“I never thought you a fool. You only shared with me what little information you’d been given.”
“On a subject you knew much more about but failed to share with me. Wes, if I lose my studio…” Her arms still folded in front of her, she turned her head. “This is my life. This is what I want.”
“You aren’t going to lose your studio, Noelle. I promise.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
She looked back at him. “How?”
“I told you, Ronald and I spoke in New York. He wants to change the facade of the buildings while filming but that’s all.”
He moved toward her, now close enough to hold her, but held back, his arms by his sides. “I would never let anyone hurt you, Noelle.”
“Too late for that.” The words spilled out, having the result she intended.
Wes stepped back, business demeanor back in full force. “I understand.”
He didn’t. There was no possible way he could.
“I’ll let myself out.” He turned and left, the click of the front door echoing through the apartment.
*
Wes pushed the bar away from his chest, his grunting echoing through the large workout room. His father had installed a full gym for Wes and his brothers to use, complete with every weight system available, Olympic weight-lifting equipment, a full locker room, and sauna. Two treadmills, two rowers, and three different types of exercise bikes lined one side, all facing floor to ceiling windows so one could look out at the glorious Montana landscape while working up a sweat in the comfort of the house.
At one point, Wes had called it excessive, preferring a simple jog on his treadmill in his penthouse with a set of weights that helped keep him in shape without taking up too much space. However, at the moment, he was thankful for the room to himself, as well as weights to throw around and his choice of what machine to beat himself up with while blaring heavy metal music from the surround sound stereo system.
After leaving Noelle’s apartment, he couldn’t get a grasp on what had happened, or how fast it had occurred. One minute they were kissing each other senseless and making a pie together, the next she was crying and mad at him, saying he’d hurt her and she wanted him to leave.
He pumped the bar off his chest again and back down, the repetitive movement matching the steadiness of his thoughts. No matter how many times he went over it in his mind, he couldn’t see how he’d made a misstep. Sure, he’d admit that not saying he had any idea of the deal might come across as him keeping something from her, but he wasn’t. And yes, he’d admit he was a guy who kept things close to the vest, but he’d done so to protect her, make sure things were good before saying anything. If they weren’t, he could step in and help. Either way, he had her best interests at heart.
“You’re gonna work yourself into a heart attack if you keep up that pace.”
Mike’s head came into Wes’s line of vision as his brother stepped behind him and grabbed the weight bar. He placed it in the rack and stared down at Wes, his face upside down. “You’ve been in here for hours. What gives?”
He sat up on the bench, his torso drenched in sweat, his T-shirt stripped a while ago and long gone. Even his sport shorts were soaked. He took the towel Mike handed him and wiped his face.
“You wanna talk about it?” Mike sat down on the bench beside Wes’s and faced him.
“What’s with you and all the touchy-feely stuff lately?”
“Since when is asking my brother if he’s okay considered touchy-feely?”
“Since now.” Wes grabbed his shirt from a nearby rack and shrugged it on over his head.
“I can’t remember the last time you worked out this hard.”
“I work out.”
“Not like this. This isn’t a workout. This is ‘throw weights around and run myself into the ground to avoid feeling something or to let off steam,’ and based on how you look, you’ve got a crap ton of feelings to deal with or some serious steam.”
“Who made you the expert?”
“Death. It’s inconvenient. It interrupts everything. It makes you angry and frustrated and sometimes all that helps is a few hours in the gym banging stuff around and listening to old-school hard tunes.”
“Mike, I’m sor…”
“Don’t.” Mike put up a hand. “Stop saying sorry. I don’t say that for sympathy. I say it because I want you to see that I understand. If you don’t wanna talk, fine. But based on how Noelle looked this afternoon when I dropped off Annalise at class, I’d say there’s something you might want to get off your chest. Not to mention you spending all afternoon in here.”
Wes’s heart sank. If she’d looked bad to Mike that meant she’d been upset not just that morning but all day and into the evening as well. Hell, he hated himself for that. Whether he grasped the reason or not, he was the cause of her pain and that didn’t sit well with him. Not one bit.
He swiped the towel over his head then wrapped it around his neck, his hands hanging down from each side. “I went over to her apartment this morning to have her show me how to make a damn pie. One minute we’re kissing in her kitchen, the next she’s crying and asking me to leave.”
“I’m guessing you’re missing an important detail in the middle.”
“We talked about the deal with Spellman.” Wes had told Mike everything, along with how he thought it a good idea for Marietta. Mike had agreed. However, Wes had left out that he hadn’t told Noelle his involvement.
“You said you thought it looked good.”
“It does! But she’s pissed I didn’t tell her sooner about having any knowledge of it.”
“Ah, the proverbial ‘is omission a lie?’ situation. That’s a tough one.” Mike leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
“That’s just it. I didn’t omit anything. I didn’t know until recently enough to even say anything to her.”
“That sounds flimsy, even to me, and at this point, I’m on your side.”
“You’re my brother. You should always be on my side.”
“I don’t know. I think this is the girl for you and if so, and you’ve screwed up, my allegiance may be swayed. But in the end, it would be me on your side because you’d be happy.”
“Damn it, Mike. I’m beating myself up over this enough and I, honest to God, can’t figure out why she’s so pissed.”
Mike chuckled.
“What’s so funny? Keep laughing at me and I’m gonna be pissed.”
“You in love is entertaining.”
Wes thought of wiping his brother’s smirk off his face with the gross, sweat-drenched towel that hung from his neck. “I never said love.”
“Didn’t have to.” Mike shook his head. “It’s written all over your face. Not to mention she’s torn away the armor you’re so used to wearing. I know of no other female who’s been able to do that so far in your thirty-five years.”
“You weren’t around for the first few of those.”
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t find love at two. From what Mom told me, you came out of the womb wearing a business suit and a scowl.”
Mike’s words cut deep. “Mom said that about me?”
“Relax. She was teasing. Mom said stuff like that about each one of us. And she had every right to, being the one person on earth who knew each one of us the best. But focus, big brother. We’re talking about the woman you love, here.”
“I told you, I never admitted to that.”
“Never admitted to that—you make love sound like something bad!”
“It’s not, I just…” Wes hung his head, exhausted. The morning with Noelle had beaten him up emotionally, he’d run himself into the ground physically, and the conversation with his brother wasn’t giving him any energy.
“Hey. Remember when I fell for Anna?”
Wes smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
“I was a mess of crazy. She had me turned inside out and sideways. That’s how you know, man. I’d have turned the world upside down if that would’ve made her happy. You’ve never been this nuts over a woman. Ever. You’d let that wall you’ve got around you stay up. And since I know you better than anyone, I’d say you’re losing it because that defense is down and you haven’t a freaking clue what to do about it.”
Not only was his brother dead right, Wes didn’t want to put the wall back up where Noelle was concerned either. His defenses were down with her and he wanted her to step inside them with him and never leave.
“I hate it when you’re right.”
“I love hearing you say those words.”
“Pansy.”
“Mule.”
They both laughed.
Mike stood and patted Wes on the shoulder. “If you love her, then fix it. Make things right.”
Wes nodded as his brother left him alone in the gym. He shook his head, wiped his face again with the towel. Mike was right. About everything. Wes was in love with Noelle. Admitting that was as if a weight lifted off his chest. Now he just had to figure out how the hell to fix things with her.