Finding Nora: A Reverse Harem Romance (The Searchers Book 2)

by Ripley Proserpina

  “I can’t accept this.”

  “I need to be able to reach you, Nora. It’s a prepaid tracfone. All the participants have one.”

  “I can’t afford it. I have a landline. You can reach me there.”

  “Nora.” He sighed, and glanced over at Jessica. “Remember when you agreed to this I told you this study would take precedence over everything. If I need you in here, I need you here. I have to be able to reach you at all times.”

  “Will this be added to my bill?” she asked shortly.

  He took out a notebook, and began scribbling roughly. He ripped out the sheet of paper and handed it to her. She read it: Nora Leslie will not incur any debt as a result of accepting this tracfone from Daniel Murray.

  “Okay.” She folded the paper slowly and put it in her jacket pocket before reaching for the phone. “This probably won’t even hold up in court.”

  “Not very trusting,” Jessica remarked.

  “What was it called in your personality test?” She smiled. “Thinking? Observant?”

  Dr. Murray laughed and Jessica grimaced. “She’s got you there, Jess.”

  She gave a good-natured shrug. “Alright. Alright. So we’ll reach you on that phone for your next interview.” She reached for Nora’s hand as if to shake it, but when she gave it to her, Jessica turned it over, placing two fingers against her wrist. “We’ll be discussing relationships and your past,” she informed her.

  She tensed, pulling her arm back slightly, but Jessica tugged it back. “Wait.” Her eyes got a far-off look in them as she took her pulse.

  “Did it spike?” she asked when Jessica let her go.

  “A bit.” She smiled. “Something to look forward to. I’d like to be in the interview for those questions. Okay, Daniel?”

  The way Jessica bypassed her so completely set her on edge. “Fine,” sora said, before Dr. Murray could answer.

  “If it’s alright with Nora, it’s fine with me. Now, I hate to rush you, but I have someone coming in, and I try not to have participants overlap. Confidentiality. Though Tyler has made that moot.” Dr. Murray seemed annoyed, but not angry. Knowing Tyler, the gregarious, over-zealous teenager, she understood how he inspired both love and irritation.

  “Okay.” She slid the phone into her pocket. “See you.”

  She walked along the quiet hallway and into the stairwell. She was exhausted, though she hadn’t physically exerted herself. She pushed open the door to the main floor and smiled. Cai was reading the announcements on the cork board, his back to her. When the door opened, he turned.

  Without planning to, she ran to him and threw her arms around him, kissing him loudly on the lips. “What are you doing here?”

  “I asked Tyler about how long these interviews take, did some mental math, and walked over. Thought maybe I could take you out to dinner.”

  “Like a date?” Her face split into a grin.

  “Sort of.” Cai smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “It’ll be you and me, and a bunch of strangers, having dinner.”

  She swept the back of her fingers over the lines near his eyes. Threading her fingers through his hair, she drew him down to her mouth and kissed him lightly. She wanted to go full-on lip devour, but she wasn’t sure how he would respond to such a public display.

  He answered her unspoken question by gently sucking her lip into his mouth. His lips covered hers, pulling and pressing until her entire face tingled. He lifted his head, kissing her once on the forehead before catching her hands with his.

  “It’s sort of a working date.” He tugged her toward the doors. She hitched up her backpack and walked a little faster, trying to keep pace with his long-legged strides.

  “Youth center?” she asked. She liked the idea of returning to his workplace. He’d brought her there once. It was where she met Tyler, and was a place for kids who needed somewhere safe to go when school was over.

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. “No,” he said, tightly.

  “Is everything alright?” She stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  He shook his head. “Kind of,” he said with clenched teeth. “Sort of.”

  “Did you lose your job?”

  “No,” he answered quickly. “It’s not… It’s other work stuff. It’s not important. Come on.” He didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t push. He led her to the parking lot, opening the car door for her, and helping her in.

  “You’re such a gentleman, Cai. You have these old-world manners. Makes me feel like a lady.” She scrunched up her nose, indicating she very rarely felt ladylike.

  He reached for her hand, driving out of the lot. “You are a lady.”

  She snorted, and he chuckled, low and deep. She loved the sound of his voice, there was something about it.

  “I never noticed before, Cai,” she said. “You have an accent. It’s a little like Matisse’s. A southern twang, but not as smooth. It’s barely there. I only just heard it in that one word: are. You’re not from Vermont, are you?”

  “Not originally, no. My family started out west, but my father moved us to Vermont when I was around ten. We moved to Burton Pond.”

  “In Northern Vermont?” she asked excitedly. She turned in the seat. “I spent some time there, too! I was right near the Canadian border. I was placed back in Brownington when I was thirteen, but we could have gone to middle school together! How old are you?”

  The air around them seemed to thicken, the muscle in his jaw jumped. She could almost hear his teeth gnashing together.

  His hand was tight in hers, though he didn’t hurt her. She could see his knuckles standing out against his golden skin, and she covered his hand with her other one, lifting it quickly to her mouth and kissing it lightly.

  “It’s okay.” She trailed her lips back and forth across his knuckles. “Don’t answer. Not yet.”

  Cai’s relief was tangible. His hand squeezed hers once as he drew it away to maneuver the car into a parking spot. She recognizing the north end of town, spying the sign at the back of the building where they’d parked and she smiled. “Working date?”

  He glanced at her. “You don’t mind?” he asked when she smiled.

  A line of people already wrapped around the building. They stood huddled in the cold wind, and she shook her head. “No. I’m glad to do this.”

  She opened her door, waiting for him to lock the car. He took her hand, leading her past the people. He knew some of them, greeting them by name and introducing Nora. She said hello as well. Not everyone responded. Some of the people waiting for the dinner served at this church stared at the ground, or past her.

  Once inside, he took her coat and his, hanging them on a hook and then handed her an apron. “We’re serving, and then we can eat.”

  She stopped him when he was about to walk into the kitchen. “Cai, wait.”

  He stopped, turning to her questioningly.

  “Have you…” She thought about the night she’d spent at the homeless shelter, and the summer days when she’d forced herself to come to community centers or churches for free lunches. Luckily, in Brownington, it’d turned into the thing to do, and they were offered to everyone, not only kids in need. It was the best thing to happen to her, and a lot of kids, taking away the stigma of “free lunch.” “Have you ever come here… not to work?”

  It was hard for to return to the places she needed when she was younger. She saw herself in the faces of the people waiting. She knew what it was to be embarrassed, or to hope people thought she worked there.

  The tell-tale muscle jumped and she had her answer. He stared at her, his golden eyes intense, and he nodded.

  “Me, too.” She lifted her chin in response.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his body and bending his knees so he could kiss her quickly. “I should have told you. Not sprung it on you like this. I forget what it’s like to come back to places when you don’t need them anymore. It’s been a long time for me.”

  She rest
ed her forehead against his lips, feeling them move as he spoke, “We don’t have to stay.”

  “No. I want to stay.” Nora shook her head. “I wondered. But also, in case I get weird, or zone out. I wanted you to know why.”

  He drew back. “I think you’re amazing, Nora. Strong and resilient, and I didn’t expect you, but I’m so grateful. I think—“ His voice sounded choked, and he looked away, taking a shuddering breath. “I hated God for a long time. But I think you might come from him. Maybe he sent you to me, to remind me of the good in this world.”

  Tears formed in her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly. “I’m not good, Cai. If that was God’s plan, he should have picked better. I’m pretty flawed.”

  “I don’t know, Nora.” His breath tickled her forehead, sweeping her hair across her face. “I think he was right on.”

  She stood on her toes again, kissing him gently.

  “Are you love birds going to neck in the hall all evening, or are you going to help?”

  She stepped away from Cai quickly, embarrassed. An older woman waited in the hall, she and smiled. “Pastor Marge.”

  The woman peered at her. She grabbed her glasses from around her neck and put them on.

  “Nora?” She opened her arms, walking forward and embracing her tightly. “Nora. I have thought about you and prayed about you. How are you, doll? And Cai! I couldn’t have made the match better myself.” She reached up and smacked his cheek lightly. “Mysterious ways, eh?”

  Pastor Marge looped her arm through Nora’s, pulling her toward the noisy dining hall. “How many years has it been? Two? Three?”

  She admired the changes made since she’d last been there. The walls were painted a lighter color, and were decorated with artwork from the children’s Sunday school. “It looks good.”

  “The artwork lightens everything, I think,” Marge observed.

  She nodded, and sighed. “Three years, Pastor Marge.”

  Making a sound of agreement, she led Nora to the serving line. She handed her a slotted spoon and then gave Cai a spatula. “You know what to do,” she said with a wink.

  Leaning forward, she hugged Nora. “It’s so good to see you again,” she said, before walking away.

  Nora took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions under control. Cai was waiting for her to turn to him, watching her with concern. His eyebrows were drawn together, and his jaw tight. She reached up, smoothing her hand over his cheek before turning her attention back to the line of people now waiting to be served.

  They loaded plates with food until a new batch of volunteers took their place. Then they stood in line with the rest of the people before accepting their food and finding a place to sit.

  “Did you come here a lot?” Cai asked as she dipped her roll in the gravy and took a bite.

  She finished chewing, and swallowed hard, forcing the roll down her throat. “Not for dinner, no. I didn’t come in until they started having free lunch in the summers. It was free for everyone, not just kids like me. Still I… uh… I tried not to. I didn’t want people to know I needed it. At school, I had this card I had to slide. It was different from all the other kids’ cards.”

  She shook her head, remembering the times she hadn’t eaten because she didn’t want a classmate to see her lunch card, or the times in the summer when she went to bed hungry because she recognized someone waiting in line for lunch. “And I was stupid. Stupid and proud. When things got bad, maybe my mom hadn’t been home in a week, and I was out of spaghetti-o’s or ramen, or whatever, I’d have to force myself to come to this place. Even though it’s welcoming and Marge was— is—wonderful. She would let me help out, unboxing the lunches or stacking chairs, so I didn’t feel so…” She waved her fork in the air as she tried to think of the word. “… obvious.”

  He nodded, setting his fork down and reached for her hand. “I wonder if I saw you here.”

  She lifted her glass to her lips, needing something to do, and shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel like I would have remembered you.” Her cheeks flushed and she dipped her head, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  He laughed, throwing his head back and shaking his head. “I think I would have remembered you.”

  “I would have made sure you didn’t.” She meant it to come out playful, but it sounded pathetic. She took another bite and chewed silently. He scooted his chair closer to hers, leaning his shoulder against hers. They stayed that way for a while, eating silently, and absorbed in their own thoughts.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, turning in his seat. He propped his arm on the back of her chair and the other across the table, a muscled cage of protection. “I should have thought about this more.”

  “No. It was nice. It was good to see Pastor Marge, and I’ve walked by this church a hundred times. I should have come in before this.”

  She could tell he didn’t believe her. “Maybe this could be our date night,” she went on. “Our weekly thing we do?”

  He examined her face, smiling at whatever it was there. “Yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  He leaned forward, and kissed her. Then kissed her again, this time deeper. The sounds of the dining hall were lost and all she could hear was her heart pounding. When she pulled away from him, she could see his pulse throbbing in his neck. She leaned forward, kissing the skin gently.

  He cleared his throat. “Same time next week?”

  She nodded, giving him one more kiss. He pushed his chair back, reaching for her tray before standing up.

  “Are we finished? What about clean-up?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You don’t want to go?”

  “Nah.” She shook her head. “There’s still stuff to do.”

  Recognized

  Cai carried an aluminum pan into the kitchen, setting it next to Nora who was diligently scraping the last one he’d brought her. She blew a curl out of her face, then pushed it away with her shoulder, but it fell back into her eyes.

  He smiled, rinsing his hands off before tucking the curl away. She looked up at him gratefully, and his heart filled with something, something that hurt him. A physical pain which made him feel scared and lucky all the same time. The way she looked at him, like she saw him, the real him, flaws and all, and she liked him.

  She smiled before going back to her job. “Why can’t they make nonstick bake pans? Dried on spaghetti sauce is the worst!” She scraped forcefully, dislodging the curl again. She gave him puppy-dog eyes. “Help.”

  He laughed, and pulled all her hair away from her face. It was so thick and curly he was able to make a knot with it, tucking the ends under so it stayed in place.

  “Why Mr. Josephs, I think you have a future as a hair dresser.” She faked a horrible southern accent.

  “Your accent is the worst,” he groaned.

  She made a face at him, going back to scraping and he chuckled. He rubbed his hand against his chest, above the ache. He wanted to laugh and be in the moment, but he wasn’t built that way. He was raised to expect the apocalypse, and it was a hard belief to break. Even if the endings he anticipated were smaller now: Nora leaving him, this untried relationship failing; they were just as cataclysmic.

  And it wasn’t because she was perfect and he didn’t believe she could possibly love someone like him. In fact, he loved the way she stumbled through explanations. He loved how her shirt was covered in splashes of water and she muttered angrily at a pan of baked ziti. He loved the way she tried to hide her vulnerability with sarcasm or playfulness. Yet when she realized she put herself out there, she would lift her chin. She let her statements hang in the air, like he could accept them or not, but she wasn’t backing down.

  He loved it all.

  But for all this new love, the ache in his chest reminded him not to hope to hard. It also reminded him, no matter how hard far he’d come, he hadn’t managed to escape the beliefs his family had drilled into him for sixteen years.

  He had to turn away from her. He realized now what the
ache was. It was the fucked-up rot left over from his father, and it was currently creeping its way from his heart into his throat.

  Nora hadn’t meant to delve too deeply into his past, and when the questions had slipped from her lips, she hadn’t demanded answers. She opened up to him, sharing a bit of her past in order to make him see she would understand him, whether he chose to answer her or not.

  He didn’t have to hide everything with her. He could have a real relationship.

  He mentally snorted, heading back into the dining hall to start taking down tables and stacking chairs. What did he know about a real relationship? It was ironic after watching the nightmare of was his family, that he’d choose a relationship as strange and complicated as what he grew up with.

  And yet it felt right.

  Is this how my father felt? He must have. There was no one more certain, more firmly set in his beliefs than his father.

  It was his inflexibility which made Cai question everything he felt, and everything he saw, and everything people told him.

  But he trusted Nora. He knew when she was lying, and after their first excursion together, when he told her to honest or not answer at all, he never sensed any deception on her part. She wasn’t perfect, and she didn’t pretend to be. If anything, she believed herself much more broken then she really was.

  He liked that about her, as fucked up as it sounded. It made him feel like he was worth something. Like it was up to him to show her she was strong. Like no one could show her the way he could, and he’d make her believe it. Deep down.

  He lifted one of the tables onto the dolly designed to store them. There weren’t many people left in the church. A few women in the kitchen, including Nora. Pastor Marge. And one teenager, stacking chairs into a closet.

  “Who do you think you are?” A raised voice from the kitchen followed a familiar low voice. The table he’d been balancing clattered to the floor as he sprinted to the kitchen. He pushed through the door as Pastor Marge chastised the speaker. “Libby, what do you think you’re doing?”