CHAPTER TWENTY
Noah woke the next morning with a dull headache, an unsettled stomach, and a vague sense of disappointment. His two self-induced orgasms the night before had done nothing to get Catalina King and her breathy declarations of every dirty thing she wanted to do to him out of his head. They’d just left him feeling embarrassed.
He’d kissed her. More than kissed her. He’d tried to devour her in an alley in front of a recycling bin. And not ten minutes before he’d been quite convinced that the roiling of his blood every time he saw her was just run of the mill distaste.
He started the first pot of coffee in the peace of his quiet kitchen. On mornings when Sara wasn’t here, he tried to be up and out the door before any of his guests invaded the kitchen. Now, he was alone with his thoughts.
And in the hungover light of day, his choices the night before didn’t look any better. He’d been four seconds away from tearing the jeans off Cat and banging her against the wall. It wasn’t that Drake and Henry’s schooling had done it either. No, that kind of buildup must have been burning bright long before anyone told him Cat wasn’t the devil herself.
Noah didn’t like strong feelings. He wasn’t comfortable with anything that pushed him out of his safety zone. Not extreme anger or fear or now the hazy blaze of lust. He liked being on an even keel. It was safer there. A therapist would probably say that stemmed from his childhood. But he didn’t have time for therapists or dwelling on the past. He could only do his best to make sure his daughter never suffered a second of the fear or dread or desperate hunger he’d known as normal.
He glanced at his watch and poured his first cup of coffee. He double checked his bag for his laptop, charger, office keys, phone, and wallet. He’d left his car downtown. Five beers and two shots were however too many drinks for him to get behind the wheel. Plus, he’d hoped the bitingly cold air would clear his head from the fog of Cat’s body responding with abandon to his.
Would he see her today? Would she remember? Would it happen again?
He’d half expected her to text him the night before. Maybe chalking it up to high tensions and alcohol. Maybe firmly stating it would never happen again. Maybe questioning if it would be the worst thing in the world to let it happen again…
Flashes of teeth and tongues and hands played on a disjointed track through his aching head. And he was hard again. Annoyed, Noah adjusted himself. He couldn’t remember the last time a fantasy had gotten him in its grips like this.
He picked up his gym bag, slung his messenger bag over his shoulder, and grabbed his to go mug.
For better or worse, he was ready for the day.
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An hour split between trying not to vomit on the treadmill and free weights, another cup of coffee and a bagel from Reggie’s temporary stand, and Noah found himself in his office still swamped in thoughts of last night. Was Cat really the woman Drake and Henry painted her to be? If she was, did that make his physical attraction to her less shocking?
He shook the mouse to wake up his desktop computer. As it lumbered into functionality, he put his voicemail box on speakerphone. He was into his fourth message when he realized he’d zoned out again and had to replay them from the beginning.
Noah forced himself to focus, taking careful notes the second time through. Then came the ocean of emails that washed into his inbox every morning like the tide. Along with the standard city manager stuff, now he was awash in media requests to comment on the Christmas special and the town’s recovery. Then there was the recovery itself. Email chains dragged back and forth between himself and dozens of other government officials, private contractors, and nonprofits.
It was his first major disaster in Merry and hopefully his last.
He opened his calendar on the computer. Today he had a meeting with the water and sewer authority and the council meeting. He needed to update his budget report and was thankful that they were at least seeing some immediate cash from the rental of the old high school. When all of this was said and done, he wanted to give some serious thought to permanently leasing the building.
A calendar alert on his phone popped up. Sara had a geography test today. He typed out a text wishing her luck, adding that he hoped she’d studied. He paused, thought better of it, and then deleted the fatherly warning, replacing it with an invitation for ice cream later. His stomach, still recovering from wings and way too much beer, rolled over at the thought. But Sara would enjoy it, so he’d pray he could leave his indigestion and poor choices behind him by the time she got out of school.
“Good morning, Mr. Yates!” Carolanne, his part-time assistant since he started as city manager seven years ago, looked as though she’d studied 1950s secretary fashion and planned her look accordingly. Her hair, a not-found-in-nature red, was teased into a bouffant that added another three inches to her petite five-feet-one-inch. Today she wore a yellow and black dress with a ribbon around her middle. She resembled a bumble bee, the way she buzzed into his office carting the mail.
“Morning, Carolanne,” Noah said, wincing at the volume of her tone. He rubbed his forehead and wished he’d thought to down an aspirin or seven before leaving the house. Humming some Christmas carol, she set about firing up the ancient coffee pot and opening the envelopes and packages with exuberance.
Noah rubbed his temples and considered throwing up.
There was a knock that had him opening one eye.
“Good morning, Noah!” Rubin Turnbar and Imani Greene, two of the most excitable town council members, practically skipped into Noah’s office.
“Morning. What can I do for you two?” Noah asked, hoping he didn’t look as hungover as he felt.
Rubin and Imani shared a conspiratorial look. They were an odd pairing, a drycleaner owner and a dance instructor with a twenty-year age difference between them. Rubin and his wife were staunch conservatives in every sense of the word, but he’d bonded with Imani and her pottery-making wife. The foursome enjoyed a weekly dinner together in town where they brainstormed ways to make Merry even merrier.
“Well,” Imani began gleefully. “Since the Reno and Realty Network seems to be picking up the tab for a lot of the cleanup and renovations around town, Rubin and I would like to put these back on the table for discussion.”
She handed Noah a printout and he found himself staring at a pole mounted light up reindeer. Rudolph just wouldn’t die.
Noah had yet to break it to the council that the five-foot snowflakes that had adorned Merry’s downtown streetlamps for the last fifteen years had met their bitter end in three feet of mud and icy water.
“These are five hundred dollars apiece,” Noah noted. Doing the math made the dull throb of his headache even worse.
“A bargain,” Rubin nodded enthusiastically. Clearly the man didn’t know what bargain meant.
“They’re LED,” Imani said, tapping the picture with a long purple fingernail.
“And the noses light up red,” Rubin announced.
Oh, well then. That’s worth the fifteen-grand right there, Noah thought miserably.
“They are certainly festive,” Noah agreed, clearing his throat. “How about you leave this with me, and I’ll look into them?” he suggested.
“Sure thing,” Rubin agreed.
“Question,” Imani added. “Do you know if the show plans to do the downtown window competition?”
Noah rubbed his forehead. “I can check on that and get back to you.”
“Great! Because my students came up with the perfect idea for a mural,” Imani chirped.
“Oh, I don’t think it can be better than what Elizabeth and I came up with,” Rubin warned.
Imani gave him a level look. “Twenty bucks.”
Rubin offered his hand. “I’ll take that bet, and I’ll be taking your money.”
“Please! You’re comparing the creativity of dancers to drycleaners?” Imani snorted.
Noah thought about reminding them that they didn’t even know if the annual window painting contest was on and decided he didn’t have the energy. Imani and Rubin left, too busy trash talking to say goodbye.
Noah took the moment of peace to put his head down on his desk. He had nearly twenty seconds of time to lament his beverage choices from the night before when another knock sounded.
A sallow-looking Paige winced at the decibel of her knuckles on wood. She cleared her throat. “Got a minute?”
Noah gestured toward his visitor’s chair. His eyelids went from half-mast to wide open when Cat slunk in. She was wearing oversized sunglasses and a hat as if hiding from the paparazzi. He wanted those glasses off. Wanted to know if she was looking at him, thinking about last night. One night, one—well, several—kisses, and he was already looking at her differently. He knew what the satin skin of her stomach felt like under his hands. Knew how she tasted. Knew the weight of her breasts as they filled his palms.
And now he was nauseated and hard.
Paige and Cat wearily took their seats, and Paige produced three sports drinks and a bottle of ibuprofen from her bag. With gratitude, Noah pounced on the tablets she doled out and knocked them back with a swig of hot pink liquid.
“Ungh,” Cat groaned, following suit. She pulled off her glasses and rubbed her slim hands over her face. Those gray-green eyes had enough red around them to make Noah wince. “Yeah? Well, you’re not looking so hot this morning either,” Cat grumbled.
Paige held up a hand. “Hang on. Before we head back down Scream at Each Other Lane, I’d like to broker a truce.”
Cat met Noah’s gaze. There was a lot being said by those bloodshot eyes. They had more complicated problems now than just intensely disliking each other.
“What would this truce look like?” Noah asked diplomatically.
“Frankly, I’d love to say that we can just allow you two to avoid each other. But we all know that’s not a possibility. There’s too much work to be done, and Noah, we need you on our side. I hope you can believe that we’re not here to exploit anyone. And if you and Cat can agree to be civil to each other, I think we’ll all be better off.”
“Agreed,” Cat said, catching Paige and Noah off guard. “What?”
“I agree, as well,” Noah announced. Cat arched an eyebrow at him and studied his face.
“Okay, I thought that would be a lot harder,” Paige admitted.
Cat gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I’ve got enough shit to do without worrying about verbally sparring with you or running into you in dark alleys for a... fight.”
Noah was smart enough that he could tease apart that coded message.
It’s not like he wanted last night to happen again—even though it was all he’d thought about in the last eleven hours since it happened. What he did want is to know what Cat thought about it.
But the bleary-eyed stare she leveled at him wasn’t giving him any clues.
“Right. So, no more fighting in alleys or otherwise?” Noah ventured.
Cat nodded. “Because it’s a very, very bad idea.”
“Terrible,” Noah agreed. “From now on we’ll be strictly professional.” Now why was it as soon as the words left his mouth, Noah pictured Cat panting as she attacked his belt buckle, her lips swollen by an assault from his own mouth?
His expression must have given away a hint of where his mind had wandered because Cat’s eyes widened, and she gave him a subtle shake of her head. Never again, she mouthed.
Subject closed.
“Uh, okay. Well. I’m pleasantly surprised and confused,” Paige cut in. “So, uh. We’re going to go now and demolish a large portion of your town.”
“Good. Great.” Noah felt his head bobbing as if he had no control over it. “Let me know if there’s anything you… uh… need.”
“We won’t need anything,” Cat promised. “Let’s go sledge hammer some crap.”
“Actually, we do,” Paige countered. “Noah, since you’re the town figurehead. We really could use you on camera when we go through the park storage. Maybe give us some backstories on some of the ruined pieces. It’ll give our designers some ideas on what items need replaced and which ones we should try to salvage.”
“On camera?” Noah absolutely hated the idea. Standing next to Cat pretending not to think of the insane mistake they’d nearly made the night before for a national audience? Pass.
“I don’t think—”
“It would be you and Drake, and I was thinking Sara might also like to be part of the scene. She’s sweet and smart, and I think an audience would really connect with a kid whose known nothing but Merry’s Christmases,” Paige put in.
Sara would murder him on the spot if she ever found out he passed up a chance for her to be on TV with Drake Mackenrowe. Shit.
“Um. I guess so,” Noah said reluctantly. “Just Drake?” he clarified.
Cat rolled her eyes, then winced.
“Cat’s shooting the demo at Reggie’s at the same time,” Paige told him.
He stared at the swatch of tan skin at the base of Cat’s throat visible above the top button of her plaid shirt. There was a small bruise peeking out above her collar. Noah swallowed hard, knowing he’d put that mark on her.
Cat coughed into her sports drink.
Paige patted her on the back.
“Down the wrong hatch,” Cat gasped weakly. She glared at Noah.
Stop it, she mouthed when Paige bent to dig through her purse.
Stop what? he mouthed back.
You know what!
Paige sat up swiftly, phone in hand, and then clutched her head. “Ooof. A little too fast. So, I’ll email the releases over to you, and we’ll need you at the park at four. Plan for about two hours.”
Cat glared at him and shoved her sunglasses back on. So, the kiss and ensuing second base hadn’t mellowed Cat one iota. Well, he wasn’t going to let it affect him either. As far as he was concerned, he’d pretend like he had no idea just how spectacular Catalina King’s breasts were.
“That’s fine.”
Cat snatched the paper Imani had given him off his desk. “Are these for streetlights?” she asked peering at the glowing reindeer over the tops of her sunglasses.
“A request from the city council. And, looking at the astronomical price tag, yet another no from me.”
“You don’t like them?” Cat asked.
“Besides them being incredibly gaudy, I don’t like the idea of wasting a huge chunk of the budget on reindeer. Even if their noses do light up. Now if you two will excuse me, I’ve got a town to run, and you’ve got one to rebuild.”
“Thanks for your time, Noah,” Paige said, offering him a friendly grin.
Cat grunted and headed for the door.
“I appreciate you both being willing to put aside your personal differences,” Paige said pointedly as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
Cat paused mid-stride, sighed as if the words pained her. “Bye, Noah.”
“Bye, Cat.”