by Sandra Owens
Noah made a growling sound deep in his throat as he strode out of the room.
“Uh, I wasn’t finished,” she informed the empty space.
Chapter Eleven
Noah stared at Peyton’s broken bathroom door. Rage filled his chest, boiling his blood. He was transported back to the day he and his mother had locked themselves in the bathroom in an attempt to stay out of reach of his father’s fists.
It hadn’t worked. The old man had kicked the door in. He’d dragged both of them out, him by his skinny boy’s arm, and his mother by her hair. It was only one of many times his father had let his drunken rage loose before one day crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. That had been the day Noah’s mother died at the hands of the man who was supposed to love and protect her.
That was a fucking joke.
“Noah?” A warm, soft hand pressed against his back. He blinked, his mind returning to the present. He didn’t know Peyton’s ex, didn’t know what the man was capable of, but if he kicked in doors to get to a woman afraid of him, left bruises on her body, and was willing to force her to marry him, he was not a man to be trusted.
“What do you want from me?” He was afraid he knew the answer.
“Come with me.” She slipped her hand around his.
He shouldn’t like her hand in his so much. She took him across the hall, into what was obviously a guest room since there were no personal effects of hers.
“Nice room.” He was even more certain he knew what was coming.
“It’s almost as big as that little apartment you’re staying in.” She let go of his hand, walked to the window, and looked out. “You can see the hog statues from here.”
He joined her at the window. Sure enough, there were two hogs on the sidewalk. “The question begs to be asked. Why hogs?”
“In the mid–eighteen hundreds, Tennessee hog farmers brought their hogs to market here, drove them right through downtown.”
“That had to be messy.”
She laughed. “I would imagine so. Anyway, the statues commemorate that.”
Delaying tactics. He waited her out.
“So.” She glanced around. “What do you think of this room?”
“It’s nice.” Nicer than any bedroom he’d ever slept in, but he kept that fact to himself.
“There’s a bathroom attached.”
“Hmm.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Are you being dense on purpose?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, princess.” He liked that fire flashing in her eyes.
“And here I thought you were smart,” she muttered.
He snorted.
“I’m offering you a place to stay that’s a palace compared to that box you’re currently in.”
“So, let me get this straight. The princess wants the warrior to move into her castle and what? Slay her dragons?”
“In a nutshell, yes.”
He’d intended to insult her, but her grin said he’d failed. “No.”
She blinked her pretty blue eyes as if his answer was a complete surprise. “No? Just like that?”
Lucky ambled into the room, glanced from them to the bed, and then jumped up on it. He lay down, rested his chin on his paws, and leveled his gaze on them.
“Lucky likes it here.”
“Then he can stay.” That would work just fine. He could tell Jack he’d found a good home for the stray, and then he’d be free of having responsibility for the thing.
“I don’t understand why you’d rather stay in an apartment not much bigger than a walk-in closet when you could be here. I’ll even keep you supplied with free beer and food. There’re all kinds of good restaurants nearby, and a lot of interesting shops. You look like you work out, and there’s a gym right here in the building, or plenty of sidewalks if running is your thing. I don’t know why or for how long you’re in Asheville, but you’d save money staying here. Of course, Lucky’s welcome, too. I’ll even walk him for you, and—”
“No.”
“—you can have complete control of the remote, even if all you watch is sports. I do like NASCAR and baseball, but not—”
He sighed, then kissed her, since that seemed the only way to shut her up. As he had the first time, he waited for her to slap him, and rightly so. Instead, she melted against him, her mouth soft and welcoming.
This was why he couldn’t stay near her. The woman was entirely too much temptation. When she put her hands on his chest, and the heat from her palms seeped through the material of his T-shirt, his brain forgot he only meant to give her a quick kiss to make her stop talking. He slid his arms around her back, drawing her against him.
He wasn’t a man who fell into bed with a different woman every night. He wasn’t a monk, either. He’d kissed his fair share of women but kissing Peyton Sutton could too easily become an addiction and a complication he didn’t need. His brain came back online, and he pulled away.
It was only because of his discipline and physical training that he wasn’t inhaling and exhaling air like he’d just ran ten miles with fifty pounds of gear on his back. Not her, though. Her chest was heaving, and that he’d had that effect on her sent satisfaction rolling through him.
No lie. He’d be safer walking through a minefield than being anywhere near this woman. “I gotta go.” As far away from her as he could get.
“Oh, okay.”
He didn’t like the disappointment in her eyes, as if he’d failed her, but he couldn’t stay. Even the discipline he’d learned as a SEAL was no match against this woman.
“Knock, knock,” a man called out.
“That’s the man here to fix the door.” Noah took advantage of the interruption to walk out of the room before he decided it was a good idea to kiss her again.
It didn’t take long to install the new door, and when Noah showed Dell the bathroom door, he promised to come back first thing in the morning to replace it.
“You can pay me tomorrow,” Dell told Peyton when she asked what she owed him.
After he left, Noah said, “Your door’s fixed and you have new locks. You’ll be all right.” But what if she wasn’t? “You have my number. The same goes. Use it if he bothers you again.” He called himself a fool for leaving that offer on the table, but it was the only way to get his feet to move.
“He’s going to be a problem, but I won’t call you.”
That should make him happy. He wasn’t happy. “Why is he so determined to marry you?”
“I don’t really know, other than he wants the shares of Elk Antler my father promised me. He claims my father is dying, that my dad just wants to see me taken care of.”
“I’m sorry about your father, but maybe he just thought he was doing what was best for you?” As for the ex, there had to be more to his determination to marry her than just shares in a brewery.
“Dalton’s lying. My father would tell me if he was sick.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She nodded. “I would know if something was wrong with my father. Dalton’s just trying to scare me. He’s not going to give up, Noah.”
Ah, hell. Those blue eyes were looking at him with so much hope. Another minute and he was going to be agreeing to anything she wanted. “I really need to go.”
“What about Jack’s invitation to dinner tomorrow night?”
“Feel free to go. I’ll text you his address.”
“Will you be there?”
“No.” If he had to, he’d chain himself to his bedpost to keep from showing up at Jack’s while she was there. “You want the dog?” Jack probably wouldn’t be happy he gave the mutt away, but he’d deal with it.
“Why would you give away your dog like that?”
“I told you, he’s not my dog.” He didn’t like the way she was frowning at him, as i
f she found him lacking, which he was. She just didn’t know how far down he’d fallen. If she did, she wouldn’t be offering him a bed in her pretty room.
It was time to go. Noah ignored the weird pang in his chest that grew with each step he took away from her. By the time he reached the door, his feet felt like they were encased in cement blocks, making it almost impossible to walk out.
For her sake, he had to. He was in a bad place, and dragging her down with him wasn’t an option. He opened the door, and Lucky shot through ahead of him. “Hey, you’re supposed to stay with her.” Lucky looked up at him with those two-different-colored eyes, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, and his tail swirling like helicopter blades.
“You’ll need this,” Peyton said, tossing him Lucky’s leash.
Before he could reply, she closed the door, and he heard the click of the lock. “Guess she’s done with both of us.”
Lucky whined, apparently not happy about that.
As he crossed the street, headed for the garage and his car, he glanced down at the thing he still wasn’t sure was a dog. One blue eye and one brown eye stared up at him, and Noah had the feeling Lucky was disappointed in him.
“You’re not the only one,” he told the dog. There was a long list of people he’d let down.
He was steps away from entering the garage when he noticed a homeless man sitting on a blanket at the corner. His eyes were closed, and he was strumming a guitar. The man was good, and Noah recognized the song, “Imagine” by John Lennon. What got his attention, though, was the other man standing over him... Peyton’s ex.
Noah stopped, his instincts kicking in. The homeless man was clearly ignoring whatever her ex was going on about. Noah didn’t like that Dalton was in the area. She’d said he lived in a gated community, so that wouldn’t be in downtown Asheville.
“We need to do a little recon,” he told Lucky. “Stealth is the name of the game. You got that?”
Enough people were passing by that Noah was able to come up behind Dalton without the man being aware of him.
“Look, I’m offering you a hundred dollars. That’s more money than you make in a week sitting here on your lazy ass. All you have to do is call me when she leaves.”
The asswipe wanted to spy on her? Lucky growled, and Noah assumed the dog was picking up on his tension. Not wanting Dalton to know he was there, he took a few steps back.
The homeless man kept playing, ignoring Dalton, but he opened his eyes, his gaze going straight to Noah. He lifted a hand, gave Noah a salute, then closed his eyes and continued playing. Had the man recognized that Noah was military?
Noah backed away. If he was smart, he’d cross the street, get in his car, and put Peyton and her problems in his rearview mirror. He had his own issues to deal with, and he wasn’t doing such a good job of that. Obviously, he wasn’t smart because a few minutes later, he was knocking on her door.
She had a peephole, and he stood in front of it, making sure she could see his face. As soon as the door opened, Lucky gave a happy bark.
“Noah?”
“We need to talk.”
She stepped back, then dropped to her knees, letting Lucky shower her with kisses on her chin. You’d think it had been days since they saw each other, not just minutes. As she leaned over Lucky, her hair cascaded around them like a black curtain. He wanted his hands tangled in that hair. For the first time in his life, he was jealous of a dog. He walked in, dropped the leash, then closed the door and locked it.
After she and the dog finished their lovefest, she unhooked his leash and stood. “Talk about what?”
“Is your offer of a room still good?” What the hell was he doing?
“Depends. Why the change of mind?”
“Your ex. He just offered a homeless man money to spy on you.”
Her eyes widened. “Joseph? He wouldn’t do that.” She rushed to the window.
“You know the man?” He followed her to the window. Dalton was gone, but had he gotten the man to agree?
“Yeah, he’s my friend. I need to go talk to him.” She disappeared down the hallway and returned a minute later with a pair of flip-flops. She dropped them to the floor, slid her feet in them, and then grabbed the key to her new door from the counter.
Lucky tried to follow them out, but Noah pushed him back. “Stay.”
“How do you know Dalton offered Joseph money?” she asked when they were in the elevator.
“Heard him.”
“So you what? Decided to play hero after all?”
“You really need to get it through your head, princess. I’m not a damn hero.”
Surprised by the anger in his voice, Peyton pressed her back to the elevator wall. Why had that made him mad? She couldn’t figure him out, but she wanted to. What had put that haunted look in his eyes? Why was he living in a temporary apartment? He’d said he was a SEAL, so why wasn’t he out doing whatever it was SEALs did?
She hadn’t expected to see him again, so she was happy, yes, but also shocked when he’d returned. If he was going to be around for a few days, maybe she could learn his secrets. And if she was really lucky, she might get a few more tingly kisses.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Huh?” She wasn’t about to answer that question. Thankfully, the elevator door opened, and she marched out. Noah stayed at her side, and she glanced at him. He was scanning the area around them, and she’d never seen a man so alert and aware of his surroundings. She’d seen pictures on the news of soldiers in their camouflage uniforms, and she just bet that he looked darn sexy in his.
“Guess this one, Miss Peyton,” Joseph said as soon as she reached him.
The song sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. It didn’t happen often, but occasionally, he stumped her. “Ah...”
“It’s ‘Trouble’ by Ray LaMontagne,” Noah said. Then he muttered something she didn’t catch.
“What’s that?”
He smirked. “Just making an observation.”
“Are you implying I’m trouble?” She bumped her arm against his. “If so, you’d be wrong. I’m as tranquil as a cat taking a nap in the sun.”
He snorted.
With a grin on his face, Joseph segued into “What’s New Pussycat,” and she glanced at Noah. Her heart stuttered at seeing the hint of a smile. If he ever gave her a full-on smile, she’d likely need oxygen.
“What did Dalton want?” she asked Joseph when he finished the song.
Joseph set his guitar aside. “Aren’t you supposed to be married to him now?”
“Yeah, well, that didn’t happen.”
“Never did like that man. He isn’t good enough for you, Miss Peyton.” He turned his attention to Noah. “And who might you be?”
Noah held out his hand. “Noah Alba. You play a mean guitar, man.”
She appreciated the respect Noah showed her friend. The more she was around Noah, the more she liked him. Despite the hard outer shell he showed the world, she was beginning to think he had a soft heart. She wanted to know everything about him, especially why his eyes always looked sad.
“Lucille here—” Joseph rubbed a gentle hand over the guitar’s neck “—she gets me through the low times.”
“May I?” Noah asked, gesturing to the guitar.
“I don’t let Lucille cheat on me with just anybody, but I have a feeling about you, Noah Alba.” He picked up the guitar and handed it to Noah.
Peyton figured Noah knew how to play because of the guitar case she’d seen in his bedroom, but she hadn’t been prepared for what he could do with Joseph’s beat-up guitar. “Wow, just wow,” she exclaimed when Noah finished playing Stereophonics’ “Bust This Town.” Talk about playing a mean guitar!
People clapped, and so absorbed in Noah’s playing, she was surprised to see that a crowd had gathered. Almost a
s if he’d forgotten he was on a public street, Noah’s gaze darted around them. His face blanked, he handed the guitar back to Joseph, and then he walked away.
What just happened?
Had he played that particular song on purpose, like did he wish he could bust this town, maybe bust her? She wanted to chase after him, ask him all her questions. But first, she had to know what Dalton was up to.
“That man has demons,” Joseph said.
It sure seemed like he did. She tore her gaze away from Noah’s receding back. “He said he heard Dalton offering to pay you to keep tabs on me. Is that true?”
Joseph’s lips curled in disgust. “It is, but his money’s no good with me, Miss Peyton. I told him that.”
“Thank you. You’re a good friend.” To please her father, she’d accepted Dalton’s proposal before really getting to know him, but her eyes were open now. She shuddered to think if she hadn’t overheard him minutes before their wedding, she would be married to him now.
After saying goodbye to Joseph, she headed for her loft. She wanted to know why Noah had walked off the way he had. What did his demons have to do with playing a guitar?
Chapter Twelve
Why had he touched that guitar?
Noah leaned his back against the wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He stared at Peyton’s locked door, wishing he could get in and close himself in the guest room before she came back. She would want to know what happened, but no way was he talking about it.
For a few minutes, he’d forgotten that not playing a guitar was his punishment for his tragic mistake. It didn’t matter whether it was his or someone else’s. He hadn’t known just how much he would miss his guitar. That instrument was his go-to when he was stressed or lonely or angry. Putting his fingers on the strings and letting the music take him away calmed him. It was his Xanax.
He was angry that he’d forgotten because those few minutes of having a guitar in his hands again reminded him of what he’d been missing. He’d almost gotten used to not turning to his guitar when a storm was brewing inside him. Now, he had to start over. He was pissed about that.