Chapter Twelve
“Move in with me.”
“What?” Anita’s gaze shot up to Noah from the plastic tote where she’d started packing the rest of the kitchen items early in the morning. Her heart beat faster. Move in with him? Was he crazy? She didn’t move in with her flings. She didn’t move in with anyone.
“Seriously. You can stay with me as long as you need to while the house is torn up.”
While the house is torn up. Her racing heart began returning to normal. “Are you sure?”
Tomorrow, the work was going to start on the interior of the house. She’d been contemplating how she’d manage to live in the chaos. There weren’t going to be any renovations upstairs, so she’d decided to move her stuff up into her mother’s old bedroom. The bathroom was there. The studio, too. She could live up there. It wouldn’t be much smaller than her condo.
The only problem was the kitchen would be torn up. Yes, that’s what takeout was invented for, but all the noise would be distracting. And there’d be times when the workmen would have to shut off the power. And the water.
Evidently, Noah had been thinking about it, too.
“I’ve got plenty of room. A working kitchen. Plenty of water and electricity.” He raised his brows. “And a bigger bed.”
It wasn’t really moving in. It made a lot of sense. “I’ve never even seen your home.”
“About time we remedied that, don’t you think?”
Had she even seen any of her other July guys’ homes? Very few. Maybe Hank the park ranger’s RV. And she’d been in Jean-Paul’s apartment, but that was because it was in the same building as hers. But she’d never spent the night in either one.
She was curious to see what kind of home Noah lived in. He’d raised his daughters there, so she assumed it would be a big family home, probably like the Colburns’ house, the one he’d grown up in. She’d grown up in a small city apartment. Aggie’s house was the closest to a family home Anita had ever lived in.
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ll take you up on your offer, salvage man. Thank you.”
He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll pick you up after I get off work tonight. They’ll probably start work on the kitchen first thing in the morning.”
“Okay. You do have a coffeemaker, don’t you?”
“Don’t worry. I can provide you with all the coffee you want.” He kissed her in that mind-blowing way that hadn’t dampened one bit. “There’s a sunroom at the back of the house. There’s no lake view, but the hills look spectacular. I was thinking you could use that as your studio.”
An unexpected warmth spread through her chest. She should have known he’d be concerned about her having a studio while she was there. She cupped his jaw. “Thank you.”
“I have to get going. Feel like stopping at Bud’s for dinner on the way home?”
Home. It meant different things to different people, didn’t it? This house had even started feeling a little too much like home. It was a good thing she was taking a break from it. “Sounds great.”
He dropped one more quick kiss to her lips and was gone. Anita found herself staring at the door after he closed it behind him. This was getting a little too domestic. She turned away and poured a cup from the coffeemaker that would be the last thing she packed up this afternoon.
Tomorrow morning, she’d be drinking coffee in Noah’s kitchen. What would that feel like? Even more domestic? Too restless to continue packing at the moment, she took the coffee through the French doors out onto the finished porch.
The bright-white porch shone in the sunlight. She’d picked out a wide wooden swing, and last night, Noah had hung it from the one end. She’d bought a cushion that matched the ones on the lounge chairs. She headed for the swing when she saw Cindy, her neighbor, crossing the yard. She waved.
“Hi. Your house looks great. And the porch. Wow.” Cindy stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “I had to come over and check it out.”
“Come on up.” There were times when you had to be neighborly. “I just poured some coffee. Would you like to join me?”
“Thanks.”
Luckily, Noah had set up the patio table and chairs she’d bought the other day. He didn’t even ask her why she was buying all the furniture if she wasn’t going to be keeping the house. It was a good thing, because she didn’t have an answer to that. “Have a seat at the table, I’ll be right back.”
Cindy didn’t pay any attention. She followed Anita right into the house. She gasped when she saw the stacked totes. “You’re not moving out, are you?”
Anita poured another cup of coffee. “I hope you don’t take anything in your coffee. The fridge is empty, and everything’s all packed up. They start work in here in the morning.”
“Oh, that’s why everything’s in boxes. That makes sense.” Cindy reached for the mug. “Thank you. Black is fine.”
Anita paused in the middle of the living room as they headed back to the porch. This woman probably knew Aggie better than anyone else. “Did my grandmother ever tell you why she smashed the mantel with a baseball bat?”
Cindy’s eyes widened as she took in the sad shape of the fireplace mantel and the bat propped up beside it.
“Guess not,” Anita murmured.
“Aggie did that?”
“She left me a note apologizing for it.”
Cindy shook her head. “That sounds like Aggie.”
“It does?”
“She wasn’t much for talking about her feelings. We’d talk about the weather. Or friends and neighbors. But mostly she talked about you.”
“I didn’t think she knew anything about me.” Anita wanted to be sitting down for this conversation. She led Cindy back out onto the porch. They sat at the glass-topped table, both of them facing the lake. Clouds were rolling in, and the breeze was picking up. Waves slapped against the shore.
“Storm’s coming in,” Cindy remarked and took a sip of coffee. “Why would you think Aggie didn’t know anything about you? She was your grandmother.”
“I guess because I didn’t know anything about her. My mom told me that both her mother and father died before I was born.” She clutched the mug with both hands. “If she knew where I was, what I was doing, why didn’t she contact me?”
Cindy patted her shoulder. “No one likes to worry about being rejected. She was afraid your mother might have done something to keep you away from her, but she didn’t know for sure. I imagine the thought of you out there, living your life and possibly loving her, was better than contacting you and having you spit in her face.”
“She said that?”
Cindy nodded. “Sometimes hope is better than knowing for sure.”
“Wow.”
“She told me she tried to apologize to your mother and…” Cindy shrugged. “Aggie didn’t want to risk rejection again.”
Anita stared into the cup. “I wish I’d known her.”
Cindy placed her weathered hand over Anita’s. “She’d be glad you’re here. And what you’re doing with the house? She’d be so happy.” She drained her coffee cup. “Thanks for the coffee. It’s going to be nice having you for a neighbor.”
“Oh, I’m not staying here. My home and my job are in Philadelphia.” Anita had gotten a little tired of saying that. “I’m selling the house after the renovations are done.”
The disappointment on Cindy’s face made Anita want to apologize, but she didn’t, because she wasn’t sorry. She couldn’t be. It was just the way it was.
Cindy frowned. “You’re not going to sell it to Ethan Bradford, are you?”
“No. I don’t want to see the house torn down. Surely there’ll be someone else who’ll want a beautiful lake house.”
“Sure.” Cindy stood to leave. “You’ve done a good thing with the house, Anita. I’m sorry you won’t be my neighbor.”
Anita watched her cross the yard and disappear into the house next door. For a brief moment, she was sorry she wasn’t going to be Cindy’s neighbor, too.
…
“That lousy Ethan Bradford. Noah!”
Noah heard Ginny shouting down the hall. He was ready to leave. He wanted to pick up Anita before the threatening clouds opened up. But he’d better see what was up with Ginny first. He walked out to the counter. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, more of the same, I guess. But you know, I could respect him more if he started telling voters what he would focus on if he were mayor. He’s still focusing on negative posts. ‘Noah Colburn is mired in the past.’ And another one says, ‘A vote for Noah Colburn is a vote for the dark ages.’”
Noah laughed. “How could anyone take that seriously?”
Ginny didn’t laugh. She didn’t even smile. “There are a lot of comments agreeing with him. Especially from the younger villagers. I think you need to hit him back with some negative posts. You need to do something.”
He didn’t have time to do something. “Didn’t you and Sam get together to work with some ideas?”
“No. He hasn’t…we haven’t… No.” There was that blush again. He wondered if Sam knew Ginny had a thing for him. Did Sam have a thing for Ginny? Noah didn’t have time to worry about his cousin’s love life. He was having enough trouble with his own.
“No negative posts. Say something about how Lakeside can grow without getting rid of everything from the past. It’s not all or nothing. I’ll help the village find a balance. Let’s keep the old and bring in the new, too.” God, he hoped he’d be able to help the village find a balance.
“Wait. Don’t talk so fast. This is all good stuff. Let me get it down.” Ginny grinned as she typed. “This is good. Can I get a picture of you behind your desk? You know, show the responsible businessman side of you again?”
“Fine. But then I have to go. I’m picking up Anita. She’s going to be staying with me while the work is being done on the inside of her house.”
Ginny’s grin dropped. “She’s leaving, you know.”
“Everyone knows she’s leaving.”
“I like her, Noah, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He pulled her in for a quick hug. “Don’t worry about me. Get your picture, and then I’m out of here.”
The rain didn’t start in earnest until Noah helped Anita carry her bags and art supplies into his house. They’d stopped for a quick burger at Bud’s before heading home. The wind had been picking up all afternoon, and drops started splashing the windshield as he pulled the truck up the circular driveway and stopped at the front door. She laughed as they dashed up the stairs onto the covered porch, their arms laden with her stuff.
“Wow. You have a big house.”
He unlocked the door and ushered her inside. He tried to look at it through her eyes. He wasn’t a total slob, but he knew it had a lived-in look. “Two teenage girls live here, too, most of the time. They have no trouble taking up a lot of space.”
“You miss them.”
“I do, yeah.”
Anita paced the tile floor nervously. He doubted she was often on someone else’s turf. She stopped in front of the mirror hanging over the narrow entryway table, but she wasn’t studying her reflection. She ran her finger over the wooden frame, then did the same to the table.
“You made these, didn’t you?”
“They look homemade?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. They’re gorgeous. But I saw something similar in your showroom. Did you make them from salvaged material?”
“Yeah. They were pretty easy to design. We have guys in the shop who are talented at putting these things together.”
“You designed them?”
“Yeah. Both were made from a mahogany door we salvaged from an old library.”
“Gorgeous,” she repeated. “I didn’t realize how talented you are.”
“I had a glimpse of that painting you’re working on. That’s talent.”
“There are all kinds of talent, salvage man.”
He liked seeing her in his place. He wished he could see her here always. Maybe she didn’t have to keep the lake house to stay in Lakeside.
Noah cleared his throat. “Want to bring your stuff upstairs, or do you want to see the sunroom first?”
Her eyes lit up. He could tell she wasn’t nervous anymore. She grabbed the bag that held the canvas. “Sunroom.”
Noah picked up the carry-all where she’d packed her art supplies. “Follow me.”
…
The sunroom was an open space that would be a joy to paint in, but it was also a great space in which to watch a thunderstorm. A comfy sofa faced the bank of windows. Anita curled up in a corner with a glass of wine. Noah was lighting candles he’d placed around the room.
“Are you worried the power will go out in the storm?” she asked.
He paused and looked over at her. His intense expression sent shivers along her skin. “No.”
Her breath hitched. “Oh.” She wanted to remind him she didn’t need romance. Didn’t want it. But…maybe right now she did. At least, she could appreciate it. And when he shut off the ceiling light and sat beside her with his own glass of wine, she shifted to cuddle against him.
The flickering light lent a soft glow to the room, almost a subtle blur like an impressionistic painting. Mother Nature was putting on a show outside. It was dark as midnight out there even though it was barely nine. Bright flashes of lightning illuminated the hills behind his house. Deep rumbles of thunder vibrated through her. The steady patter of rain danced on the roof and streamed down the window glass.
“You sure know how to set a mood,” she murmured. Had anyone else ever gone out of their way to make her feel this wanted?
He nodded toward the window. “I had a little help tonight.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here?” What a stupid thing for her to say. If anyone was uneasy, it was her. There were four bedrooms upstairs. A spare besides one for each of his girls and the master. Moving her things into his bedroom felt a little strange. Okay, a lot strange. It shouldn’t be any different than Noah spending every night in her bed. But somehow it was.
“Of course I’m okay with it.” He leaned over and brushed his lips over hers. “If wine and candlelight doesn’t show you that I want you here, I don’t know what else will.”
“It’s perfect. I’m being silly. I’m not used to…”
He traced a fingertip along her cheek. “Romance?”
She sighed. “Yeah.”
“You should be. All those men and none of them made you feel wanted?” He relieved her of her wineglass and set it and his on the glass-topped coffee table made from a large multi-paned window Noah must have salvaged from someplace.
“They listened to me when I said I didn’t want romance.”
“Foolish men.”
Noah cradled her face in his hands. His face was a mix of shadows and light from the flickering candles. The air was charged around them, from the storm and the candlelight and the power of his gaze. From the intense sensations clashing between them and the need thrumming through her veins.
She needed him. Anita had never needed anyone before. She craved him with an ache deep inside, and it wasn’t because of the wine or the candlelight, the sunroom studio, or even the amazing sex. It was the man. It was Noah.
Dammit, she was in danger of falling in love with him.
She covered his hands with hers, still cupping her face. How had it happened? She studied him as if she could find the answer in his eyes. She’d always been so cautious. What was she going to do now?
A crash of thunder sounded as if it were right above them. She jumped, and he dropped his hands from her face. “Are you okay?”
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. His breath was warm on her neck. Her heart felt as if it were going to burst out of her chest. This was never supposed to have happened.
Noah stroked her back. “What’s the matter? You’re tense all of a sudden. I thought you loved thunderstorms.”
Anita pulled away from him and sat back. She grabbed her wine and downed the rest without a breath. “I do love the storm. I…I don’t know what’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong. I need more wine.”
She started to stand, but Noah put his hands on her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head and stood. “I’ll get it.”
She watched him walk away and knew that was what would have to happen. She pushed away the panicky feeling and took a deep, calming breath. When July was over, she was going to walk away. Falling in love with Noah wouldn’t make any difference in the long run. Her life would go on the way she’d planned. She could still enjoy the rest of her fling with Noah. And next year, she would damn well find one of the charming, agreeable guys who didn’t bring her flowers or wine. A guy who’d listen to her and not light candles to give her a taste of romance and most certainly would not make her fall in love with him.