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The Christmas Fix by Lucy Score (33)

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

 

 

Cat let herself into her trailer and face-planted on the couch. The long days of filming hadn’t always bothered her, certainly not when the ratings for the first two episodes were sky-high. But this show was more hands-on than most, and the lack of sleep from the night before caught up with her by noon. She’d had a ridiculous amount of caffeine that had decided to abandon her system all at once, leaving her weak and shaky.

It was the only explanation for how filming with Reggie had gone.

Reggie’s reveal had gone well. The man had cried standing in the middle of his kitchen, clutching the new spatula Cat had engraved with the Jamaican flag.

Then of course Cat had cried. Something she rarely did on camera. Drake was already gracefully swiping errant tears from his gorgeous cheekbones, something both the female and gay viewership would swoon over when the show aired.

But no one needed to see her wipe snot on her sleeve every ten seconds. Cat chalked it up to the lack of sleep and the rawness she still felt. Noah had done something to her. He’d stripped her bare with a wild tenderness that she’d never known, never expected. And now her soul was just a little rough around the edges from it.

He’d texted her twice today. Sweet little messages.

 

Noah: Thinking about you and smiling like an idiot.

 

Noah: I have rug burn on my knees. I’ll treasure it until it scabs off and leaves gross scars.

 

She’d read them and smiled. But she hadn’t responded. She didn’t want to set a precedent there. Didn’t want him to start thinking of this… whatever it was as a relationship.

She sniffed the cushion under her face, wondering what the clean, pine scent was. It sure as hell wasn’t her. After the diner shoot, she’d hopped in with a paint crew at the Hai house and then driven thirty miles to a welder’s shop for her top secret special project that was going to be even better than she’d hoped.

She needed a shower and dinner, which she’d forgotten to ask Henry to order.

Ugh. Maybe she’d just skip it. Maybe she’d just go to bed, catch up on the sleep she’d missed, and start fresh and focused tomorrow.

But that fresh pine scent teased her until she picked her face up off the cushion. Her sad little fiber optic Christmas tree had been replaced with a live one, decked with lights. There were three boxes of ornaments— silly reindeer and snowmen—stacked up under the tree.

She frowned at the five feet of tree. Its colorful lights glowing cheerfully in the corner. There was an envelope stashed in the branches. She rose, plucked it from the tree.

 

To keep you in the Christmas mood.

 

Noah

 

She fought against the flutter in her stomach at his handwriting. Noah had gotten her a real live Christmas tree.

Cat glanced around the rest of the living space. It was neater than usual. She didn’t let Henry fuss with her private space. He had enough on his plate and everything about Cat’s life was temporary enough that a little mess didn’t drive her too batty.

But things had definitely been picked up, rearranged. Pillows were fluffed. Her blanket was folded. And the dining room table had been repaired.

Cat stalked into the kitchen, flustered. One night of stellar orgasms, and the man thought he had the right to paw through her personal things? She yanked open the refrigerator door, desperate for water or wine.

It was stocked. Salad fixings, cold grilled chicken, neat containers of black beans and vegetables. Everything she’d need for chicken salads. There were a dozen bottles of water neatly lining the top shelf. She grabbed the first one and the note stuck to it.

 

To keep your energy up.

 

Noah

 

Damn it! Cat wrenched open the bottle of water and drank deeply. She could have stocked her own fridge if she wanted to. Or at least had Henry do it. She didn’t need a keeper.

The bedroom smelled of fresh linens, and there was a week’s worth of clean laundry neatly folded on top of her precisely made bed. The man had stolen and washed her dirty underwear. It should have creeped her out. But the practicality of it made her heart soften, just a little. She had clean jeans to wear tomorrow, dinner tonight, and Noah had left a goddamn chocolate heart with another note on her pillow.

 

I have Sara tonight, but I wanted you to know I’m still thinking about last night.

 

Noah

 

Cat rubbed absently at the ache in her chest. He wasn’t making it easy to keep things simple, uncomplicated. And she had no idea how to handle it. Could she just avoid him until the end of the shoot?

She wandered back out to the living area, weighing her options, and spotted them. The papers she’d scattered near and far. Every application in her school location search. She’d been knee-deep in applicants when Noah had come not-knocking last night.

Those dozens of applications were now in a neat, thick stack with a slew of color coded sticky notes. Curious, she picked them up.

 

Population too small.

 

Geography a hindrance.

 

Employment rate high. Good for them, but not a good fit.

 

Baffled, Cat flopped down on the couch, clutching the paperwork. She’d been trying to make the same assessments for a week. And Noah just breezed into her personal space and helped himself?

She glanced at the handwritten note paper-clipped to the top of the stack.

 

Cat,

 

After a cursory glance, I don’t think any of these applicants are ideal for what you have planned. Just my two cents. And if you want my opinion—which you haven’t asked for—I’d recommend that you keep looking. The right location is out there.

 

Noah

 

It was the same conclusion she’d been dancing around last night. Either the physical location wasn’t right, zoning laws were too strict, or the local economy was already more than stable. She wanted to bring this school to a community that needed it, that would embrace it. But at least it was a start. She still had another month before the application process expired. She’d find it.

She traced a finger over Noah’s hastily scrawled signature and, with a sigh, pulled out her phone. She snapped a picture of the stack of papers, the Christmas tree in the background.

 

Cat: I see I had a helpful elf here today.

 

When he didn’t respond immediately, Cat opened the boxes of ornaments. She took her time, hanging them in a pattern for best coverage. And while she did, she wondered how Noah knew she’d want to decorate the tree herself.

Her phone buzzed from the couch cushion.

 

Noah: Santa and his elves work 24/7 in Merry this time of year.

 

Cat smiled despite herself. The man had gone out and figured out how to do the nicest thing possible: save her time.

 

Cat: Well, please tell them I appreciate it.

 

Noah responded with a picture of his rug burn on one knee.

 

Noah: Not as much as I do.

 

She laughed and before she could think better of it, shucked off her shirt. She’d earned her own rug burn on her lower back over her hip bones. She snapped the picture over her shoulder and fired it off to him.

 

Noah: You’re literally killing me. How am I supposed to focus on Sara’s essay on M.C. Escher now?

 

Cat: From what I can recall you’re quite attentive. I’m sure you won’t have any problems.

 

Noah: The Hais are moving back into their house this week.

 

Cat: I’m aware.

 

They’d film for a day at the Hais. It would air as the next to last episode of the show.

 

Noah: They’re spending the weekend with Jasper’s parents, and Sara stays with her mom…

 

Cat paused and chewed on her lip.

 

Cat: Is that so?

 

Noah: How would you feel about spending the night here? With me. My shower is bigger than yours. And my couch is bigger than the Barbie furniture in your trailer.

 

Cat: Tempting.

 

It was. He was. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

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