This Just In... (Harlequin Superromance) (5 page)

Noah followed her out and lowered himself to the porch step where there was no worry about leaving a sweat outline behind. He leaned his elbows back and inhaled the cool air. Just as good as a shower. Well, not if the shower included Sabrina. He shoved the thought away. Clearly she’d been joking.

He heard the fall of her steps as she headed back inside and let his eyes close. It would be nice to have a neighbor again, to know there was another warm body in the house. He’d never asked his previous neighbors for anything, but he’d liked knowing they were around. He’d like knowing Sabrina was around, too. Watching TV, singing in the kitchen, standing in the shower. A long, hot shower with soap and scrubbing that would leave her skin pink all over.

Noah jumped when cold glass pressed against the back of his neck.

Sabrina laughed and handed the bottle to him. Condensation dripped down the sides, cooling his fingers and some of his distracted thoughts. Imagining his reporter naked in the shower was nothing like imagining the audience in their underwear when he was about to give a speech. Not even close. He shifted and took a long pull from the bottle. It didn’t lower his body temperature.

“I ordered the pizza. They said forty-five minutes.” She sat down on the step beside him, her thigh brushing his. Her skin was soft, silky-looking. His fingers wanted to touch. Noah curled them around the bottle instead.

“So tell me what you’d normally do for fun on a Saturday night.” She stretched her legs out in front of her. Her skin brushed his again, stirring his nerve endings.

He called on his mayoral face, but he was having trouble bringing it to the surface. Really, he just wanted to look at her. “Sometimes there’s an event where I need to make an appearance. But often I have work from the week I need to catch up on.”

Sabrina nodded and sipped her beer. He watched the smooth glide of her neck as she swallowed. The pulse point just below her ear that thrummed a steady rhythm. “Those are things you do for other people. What about you?”

Concern spiked through him. “I thought we weren’t doing an interview.”

She remained reclined in her loose pose. “We’re not. I’m just curious about you.”

He swallowed. This was not good. He still wasn’t sure about her. She seemed sincere, but how well did he know her? And now, sitting on the porch like a couple, her spicy-sweet scent mingling with the grassy smell from the neighbor’s lawn. He looked away. Dinner. Together. And beer. When he was already filled with confusing push-me-pull-you thoughts. This was not a good idea. He cleared his throat. “I just remembered, I can’t stay.”

Her mouth opened and then closed. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Noah set the beer down, barely touched. Fantasies of her naked in his bed rolled through his mind, followed by the worry that this sparking attraction would make him do something he’d regret. No, he definitely couldn’t stay. Not tonight. Not when his mind was in a whirl. “I promised Kyle and Marissa I’d babysit.” He hadn’t, but they were always happy for the extra hands.

Sabrina nodded, but he couldn’t tell if she believed him. “You do that a lot, don’t you? Babysit.”

He felt something icy and irritable slide down his spine. “They’re family.” Why shouldn’t he babysit? He loved his family. He loved helping them.

She sat up and put a hand on his arm. “I think it’s great.” Her eyes bored into him, reading him. “You do a lot for other people.”

“No, I don’t.” Noah hated it when people talked about him like that. He didn’t want them to notice, just to know that they could count on him to be there. “Anyone would do the same.”

“No, Noah. They wouldn’t.” Her hand was warm, comforting.

He reminded himself that he didn’t know who she was, what she wanted. He pushed himself into a standing position. “Right. Well. Thanks for the beer.”

Sabrina lifted her bottle to him in a toast. “Anytime. We’ll rain check dinner.”

Noah knew he should correct her. Tell her that dinner wasn’t necessary, that he hadn’t agreed to help her for any reason other than it had seemed like a good idea at the time. But he didn’t.

And he beat it out of there before desire could overwhelm common sense.

But he didn’t feel any better once he arrived on Kyle and Marissa’s doorstep.

“Hey, bro.” Kyle welcomed him in with a slap on the shoulder. “What brings you here?”

“Kyle?” Marissa came into the entry. “Noah, hi. We weren’t expecting you.”

He could hear the rumble of kids. “I should have called first. Sorry.” He hadn’t brought anything with him. Hadn’t even taken that much-needed shower. Just climbed into his car and driven straight over.

“It’s not a problem.” Kyle turned to the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

“Yes, that’d be great.”

“What were you doing?” Marissa plucked at his shirt, which was still stuck to his skin as they turned to follow Kyle. “You look like you’ve been chopping wood.”

Close enough. “I was helping someone move.”

Kyle pulled a pair of bottles out of the fridge. “Who? You should have called me. I could have helped.”

But Marissa, always more astute than her husband, didn’t wait for his answer. “Sabrina, right?” She shook her head when he didn’t respond to her query. “What else did she want?”

“Nothing. She didn’t want anything.” He twisted the beer cap. No, he was the one who wanted something. Something that he couldn’t have.

“Are you sure?” Marissa asked.

“She’s my new neighbor. That’s all.” Sabrina didn’t want anything else. He didn’t think. Well, except the interview, but she’d been perfectly up-front about that. No, he was the one with the wicked thoughts of her naked body. Damn her little tank top and littler shorts.

“Noah.” But whatever Marissa had been about to say was interrupted by his noisy niece, who burst into the room singing and dancing.

Daisy flung herself at his legs when she saw him. “Hi, Uncle Noah.” Then she launched into a story about some tights with a hole in the knee.

He picked up his niece, suddenly wildly interested in the case of the striped tights.

“Mommy threw them away.” Her tiny face was set in a picture-perfect expression of outrage. “And she won’t buy me more. Will you buy me a pair?”

“Yes,” Noah said just as Marissa said, “Absolutely not.”

Marissa plucked Daisy from Noah’s grip and set her down with a pat. “I need to talk to your uncle. Go see what your brothers are doing.”

“I don’t wanna.” Daisy crossed her arms and stamped her foot.

“Daisy.” The warning note in her mother’s voice was clear.

Daisy looked from her mother to her father, and stuck out her chin. “Uncle Noah will buy me tights. He loves me. Right, Uncle Noah?” She grabbed his leg.

“Don’t manipulate your uncle, Daisy. Go and play with your brothers.”

Daisy responded by wrapping her arms more tightly around Noah’s thigh and clinging like a monkey. “No!”

Noah sighed, used to these exchanges. He’d learned to simply stand by and let Marissa handle her daughter as things inevitably ended more quickly and with less screeching.

“Daisy, I swear.” Marissa attempted to pry her daughter’s fingers loose, but Daisy was a girl on a mission.

“No. No. You can’t make me.” She tried to wrap her legs around Noah’s shin.

Marissa tugged on her daughter’s arm. “Yes, I can.” She pried her daughter free. “Off to find your brothers or you won’t get dessert.”

Daisy seemed to consider that, then nodded. “Okay. Bye, Uncle Noah.”

So much for his three-foot savior. Marissa was now bearing down on him with a gleam in her eye that looked remarkably like the one Daisy often wore. “I can’t believe Sabrina moved in beside you. You need to be careful.”

“Why?” Noah honestly wanted to know. Was it really such a big deal? It’s not as if they were cohabitating.

Marissa’s eyebrow lifted. “People already think there’s something going on because of that talk the two of you had in the parking lot. Do you want the whole town talking about you?”

Noah’s stomach rolled. He did not want the whole town talking about him.

“This is ridiculous.” Kyle piped up with a snort. “What are they going to say? That he helped someone move? That they’re neighbors?”

The roll slowed. His brother had a point. Living next to each other wasn’t scandalous. “We’re just neighbors. I hardly know her.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the interview. I don’t think you should do it,” Marissa insisted.

Just when he was thinking that he should.

“Marissa.” Kyle draped an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”

Marissa’s face was set in a hard line. She glanced at her husband. “Have you forgotten what it was like here after she wrote that article about you?”

Kyle nodded. “I remember, babe.” He wrapped his arm more tightly around her. “But that doesn’t mean it’ll be the same for Noah.”

Noah watched the tension seep out of his sister-in-law. “I know. I just worry.” She looked at him, brackets of that worry around her mouth.

He was deeply touched. “It’ll be fine. She’s not going to write anything horrible about me.” Her openness today had convinced him of that. She was telling the truth about what people in Wheaton wanted. A blistering exposé on him was not it.

“I know her better than you.” She turned her head and looked at her husband. “Better than both of you.”

“You knew her better
before,
” Kyle said. He ran a hand up and down Marissa’s arm. “Maybe she’s changed.”

Marissa sighed. “Maybe. But I’m going on record now that I am not in love with this idea.”

“I haven’t even said I’ll do it.” Noah told them. He would wait to see how Sabrina’s article on Pete turned out before making a final decision. “But even if I agree, it’s only one interview. I’ve handled reporters plenty of times. I know how to stay on message.”

If Sabrina asked him a question he didn’t want to answer, all he had to do was respond with a piece of information he did want to share. Simple.

And there wasn’t much that was off-limits. His life wasn’t exciting enough for that. Look how he was spending his Saturday night. Hanging out with his younger brother and family instead of drinking beer and eating pizza with his sexy new neighbor. He bashed the thought down.

Marissa frowned. “She’s not some small-town reporter who’s going to ask what your favorite pie is. She’s a professional, and she’s good.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sound almost complimentary.”

“Well, I don’t mean to.” But a ghost of a smile drifted across her face.

Noah smiled, too. “It’ll be fine.” Sabrina was welcome to ask about his childhood and how that had shaped him. How being the only kid in school who didn’t have a biological parent had impressed upon him the need for community spirit, how a person could forge family bonds with anyone they loved, blood-relation or not and how giving back fulfilled him.

He wouldn’t have to share that he still felt as if he was trying to achieve “local” status, how he often felt that he didn’t fit in, that if he stopped giving back, the residents might eventually lose interest in having him.

Those were his own private demons and not for public consumption.

CHAPTER FIVE

E
VEN
BEFORE
SHE
met Pete Peters in person, Sabrina knew she wouldn’t like him. In their phone conversations, he’d called her darling twice and joked about women in the construction business as if women couldn’t swing hammers and saw wood with any hope of competency.

The interview did nothing to change her initial opinion. But as she’d told Noah, these articles weren’t about snarking on the candidates. So she wrote as polite an article as possible about Pete, leaving out his rampant chauvinism and highlighting his family instead.

She was proud of her work. Really, it had been difficult not to let her distaste of the subject creep through, but she’d done it. Since the article had run three days ago, she’d received multiple compliments on it.

In the city, Sabrina had often wondered if people read her work at all.

But she wasn’t in the city right now, she reminded herself. She looked at her newly bare walls, ignoring the pile of hideous Easter-egg-colored wallpaper piled in the corner. The walls were in decent shape, requiring only a bit of patching.

She hadn’t seen much of Noah since he’d helped her move a little over a week ago. She’d thought he might come knocking on her door this morning, or pop into the coffee shop to schedule that interview, but she hadn’t seen him at all.

Sabrina hoped he’d read the article. If not, she had an extra copy sitting on her coffee table that she could personally deliver.

She patched the nail holes and the intermittent dents in the walls. Once the putty dried, she could sand and paint. She stepped back and dusted her hands on the seat of her shorts. Might as well go get the paint now. Tuesday evening was bound to be quiet at the hardware store and she didn’t have anything better to do.

Sad, but true. In her old life she’d be on her way out for dinner and drinks on a patio, maybe heading to a club for some live music. Or having a barbecue on the beach with friends. Here? She was watching home-decorating shows and stripping wallpaper. Such a glamorous life she led.

Sabrina grabbed her purse from her bedroom and glanced at her footwear in the open closet. Her old red cowboy boots stared back at her, bright and cheerful and a memento of bygone days. She’d had some good times in those boots.

Being named Miss Northern Lights at the town’s annual festival for the second year in a row. Getting caught smoking and drinking behind one of the tents at same festival and being uncrowned. High school graduation day. Graduation night.

She remembered the day she bought them. She and Marissa had been shopping for Marissa’s sweet-sixteen party when she’d seen them sitting on top of a pedestal, practically glowing at her. Like fire. She’d snatched them up and held them to her chest, ready to do battle if necessary and looked over to find Marissa doing the same thing to a pair in cotton-candy-pink. They hadn’t stopped laughing until they’d left the store wearing the boots. They’d been the talk of the party. But then, they always were.

Sabrina still hadn’t seen Marissa. Since there were only a few thousand people who called the town home and Sabrina was confident she’d seen every one of them multiple times, she could only assume that it was a purposeful snub. She’d hoped they could say hello, maybe have a chat. A little ache worked its way into her heart. What was it her mother always said?
New friends are silver but old friends are gold.

In her case, friends were nonexistent. Both new and old.

She slipped the boots on. Maybe she didn’t still have her friendships, but she still had her boots.

As expected, the hardware store was empty except for Ed, the owner, working behind the register, and her. He scowled when she brought up her paint. Probably still angry with her for that missing parking sign from a decade ago.

But what had he expected? He’d installed a special custom-made parking sign in front of his store, reserving the space for his newly restored ’Vette. He’d even gotten Marissa ticketed for parking there once, which was ridiculous and would never have happened had the sheriff not been his brother. So one night they’d crawled up the post, removed the personalized sign and hung it in Marissa’s room. Sabrina wondered if she still had it.

She paid without engaging Ed in a chat and carried her purchases out to her vehicle, cranking the radio as she drove back home and indulging in the cheerful twang of the country song spilling from the speakers. In Vancouver, she rarely listened to the songs of her youth, worried that they’d highlight her humble beginnings.

Maybe she should crank the tunes when she got home, too. Perhaps that would draw Noah out. She could casually point to the paper and ask if he’d had a chance to read her article, then book his interview on the spot. And if she were completely honest, she wouldn’t mind spending some time with him, either.

He might try to hide it behind his preppy haircut and collared shirts, but Mr. Mayor was a sexy beast. She remembered in high school all the girls, her included, thinking Kyle Barnes was the hottest guy in Wheaton and quite possibly the country. But after spending a bit of time with Noah? Kyle wasn’t even in the running.

And she was due for a little fun in her life. She turned into the driveway. A fling with the mayor sounded pretty fun indeed.

Sabrina was so busy singing and thinking about a potential fling that it took a moment to notice the mess on her formerly pristine front porch.

* * *

N
OAH
JUST
WANTED
to get home. The day had been longer and more eventful than he would have liked. He’d had to drive to his dealership in a town an hour away when the manager there had up and quit without notice. Once he’d calmed the staff down and started the process of finding a replacement, he’d gotten a call from a constituent in Wheaton who was concerned that her neighbor’s tree was hanging too far into the street and needed to be trimmed.

She’d left three more messages while he drove back to town. After assuring her that someone would take care of the problem and soothing the tree-owning neighbor, he’d zipped over to the Wheaton dealership for a few hours. His payroll guy had botched the data entry and somehow deleted everyone’s hours. Fortunately, Noah kept a backup since this wasn’t the first time it had happened. He should probably let the man go, but he had a young family and he was trying hard. Maybe he could find a different role for him, one where Noah wouldn’t have to put in extra hours of work every week.

And then he’d had to attend the weekly council meeting, where the mic had been hijacked by an overly confident Pete Peters wanting to resubmit a request for rezoning. Really, was it any wonder Noah wanted to shut his eyes and let the day end?

As he pulled down the side road that led to the house, he wondered if Sabrina would be around. He’d read her article on Pete before all hell had broken loose. Balanced and fair, it had made the man look a lot nicer than he was. Noah had waffled long enough. If Sabrina was around, he’d tell her tonight that he wanted to do the interview.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he thought of seeing her. She’d made herself at home the past week, setting out huge pots of flowers and a pair of Adirondack chairs on the porch. He often heard her singing along to the local country station at the top of her lungs. Her dad hadn’t been lying about that, but neither had she. She was always on key.

When he turned into the driveway, he spotted her on the porch on her hands and knees scrubbing at something. He enjoyed the sight of her butt as he rolled by. He was tired, not dead.

He parked by the detached garage and left the windows open to cool the vehicle. It had been a hot day and the interior had retained a lot of the warmth. As he walked toward the house he felt a little more of the tiredness in his bones float away. There was something to be said for being greeted by a great pair of legs and a fine ass.

When Sabrina turned to greet him, Noah nearly stopped dead in his tracks. Clad in a thin white T-shirt, a pair of denim cut-offs and red cowboy boots, she was his high school fantasy come to life. Oh, hell.

“Look at this.” She gestured sharply to the porch behind her.

He dragged his eyes away from those boots. The porch was a mess. All those heavy pots she’d dragged to the perfect positions last weekend now lay in shards around her. Piles of dirt were ground into the white planks and the blooms had been crushed, judging from the footprints, by someone wearing sneakers. “What happened?” He looked from the disaster area to her.

Sabrina put her hands on her hips. “That’s what I’d like to know. I know Marissa wasn’t happy to see me back, but what did these flowers do to anyone? They’re innocent.”

All the time she’d spent sprucing up the front wasted by some kids who were bored. “You okay?” He’d heard the thread of tension in her voice, understood it. She was rattled and wound tight, as anyone would be who came home to find their home damaged.

“I’m fine.” But her smile didn’t reach her eyes. There was a dirt smudge near her hairline and another by her knee. The colorful scarf tying back her hair blew in the light breeze.

Noah surveyed the chaos as he walked up the steps to stand beside her. “Were you here when it happened?”

She shook her head. “No. I was getting paint from the hardware store.” She knelt to start cleaning again and Noah felt the tension in his body ease.

He moved to help her, pressing a knee into the step for leverage and lifting what looked like half a pot into his arms. Dirt spilled down his blue golf shirt and gray pants as he carried the pottery to the plastic garbage can she’d dragged to the porch. “When did you find things like this?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes ago.” Sabrina followed behind him and tossed a few pieces of clay pot into the bin. They made a dull thump against the thick plastic. “I’m surprised. I didn’t realize things like this happened here.”

“Teenagers.” He tried to focus on what he was saying and not on the fact that he could see the lace outline of her bra through the soft material of her T-shirt. But when he looked away, his gaze landed on those little shorts instead. As if his imagination needed any help after all that talk about the shower last weekend. “Sometimes they get bored and do stupid things.”

Sabrina smiled again and this time it reached her eyes. “These ones are plenty stupid. They left a note.” She pointed to the porch railing.

Noah walked over and saw a message gouged into the wood.
Fuq.

“Charming, isn’t it?” She scooped up a bunch of blooms and dirt. Together, they dumped the last of the mess into the garbage can. Her spicy-sweet scent overpowered the aroma of fresh dirt when she stopped beside him. “You don’t think they’ll come back, do you?”

“No. I don’t.” He was surprised they’d dared to do it in the first place. Most times, any vandalism happened at a construction site left unguarded for the evening. Occasionally on the school or other public building where it would achieve maximum impact. “Are you worried?”

“Of course not.” She scoffed as though the very idea was an insult. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve spent the past nine years living in the heart of Vancouver. A couple of punk vandals are nothing.”

She was quiet for a minute. Noah watched while she swept the piles of dirt off the porch and onto the flowerbeds below with her foot.

“But I’d be happier if it hadn’t happened at all.” She sighed and kicked some more dirt. “Thanks for helping me clean up. If this had happened at my old apartment, my neighbor would have called the landlord to complain.”

“About vandalism?”

She shrugged. “He didn’t like me.”

Noah thought the man was clearly an idiot. He dusted his hands off. “No problem.” Sabrina’s smile could knock a man off his feet if her boots hadn’t already done the job. He cleared his throat. “I’ll get a broom for the rest of this.” A clearer head would be nice, too.

He focused on what he’d need to repair the gouges in the wood—some sandpaper and a coat or two of white paint—and not on the way Sabrina looked in those shorts. And boots.

But his fingers tightened around the handle of the push broom he’d pulled from the shed when he saw Sabrina bent over again. So he said the first thing that popped into his head. “You know, this might have been a message for me.”

“For you?” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “The town’s golden son? I highly doubt that.”

Noah wasn’t the town’s golden son, but this wasn’t the time to correct her. He walked up the steps. “If you’re worried about them coming back, you could get a dog.”

“A dog?” She stood up, pushing her hair back.

“Yes.” A big, slavering dog that would keep vandals and bored teenagers away. “For safety.” So that any troublemaker who showed up would get a surprise. A toothy, barky surprise. Actually, it was a pretty good idea for spur-of-the-moment thinking.

But Sabrina shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got city instincts. And you’re probably right, these guys won’t come back.” Her eyes met his. “Besides, I can’t get a dog—I’m not staying. What would I do with a dog when I left?”

Noah nodded. She was right. A dog was a foolish idea. It would be irresponsible for her to get a dog when she knew she wasn’t staying and the dog couldn’t go with her. Maybe
he
should get a dog. But then he wasn’t home enough to make that a reasonable option, either.

He started sweeping.

“I can do that.” She held her hand out for the broom. “Really, you’ve done more than enough.”

But Noah just kept sweeping. He could easily go inside, break this little connection they were forging. Sabrina wasn’t staying. She knew that. He knew that. The whole town knew that. And yet he didn’t leave the porch.

His eyes tracked her hands as she rubbed them on the seat of her denim shorts. He wondered if it were possible for him to institute a bylaw that banned those shorts. Or perhaps one that required Sabrina Ryan to wear them at all times. He swept harder.

She stood by the damaged railing, fingers tracing the ugly message. “Are you always like this?”