Deeper Than Need: A Secrets & Shadows Novel

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Deeper Than Need: A Secrets & Shadows Novel Page 18

by Shiloh Walker


  Noah finished the file and rose, bringing it back over to her. “Don’t send out the last one yet. I need to talk to her about a few things first. Have you called your insurance agent yet?”

  Glumly she slumped in the seat. “Not yet. The insurance company is going to hate me.” She leaned forward and pulled a sticky note from the cube and made a note. “I’ll give them a call in a few minutes. Might as well see if they can add meteor strikes to the plan, considering how my luck is going.”

  Noah was quiet for a minute. “I’m sorry all of this has been so rough on you,” he said softly. “Believe it or not, this isn’t a bad town.”

  Their gazes locked, and just like that the misery, the questions, even her shame and doubt melted away. When he looked at her, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

  Everything … excerpt her heart. Her heart felt crazy, because it was doing this mad little dance and that need to kiss him again, really kiss him, hit her hard and fast.

  Learn the taste of him, the feel of him, stroke her hands down the hard, muscled plane of his chest, grip his hips and just move against him. Her mouth went dry thinking about it. While other things did the opposite.

  The wicked train of her thoughts just wouldn’t stop, so she looked away before he could see them stamped all over her face.

  Noah moved around the desk, heading toward the playroom. Trinity’s gaze zeroed in on his butt—a very nice butt—as he nudged the door open. Then her heart absolutely melted as Micah’s delighted voice echoed through the entire office.

  “Mr. Noah!”

  The boy had never had a man to look up to in his life, other than Trinity’s dad. Micah’s grandfather wasn’t here. Closing her eyes against the sudden sting, she swiveled the chair around and tried not to listen to the quiet murmurs coming from behind her.

  But it was almost impossible to block them out.

  “How are you doing, Rocket? Gotten that cape out of your mom yet?”

  A smile tugged at her lips as Micah said, “No. She said she might try to make me one, but I need to know what color I want. I don’t know if I should do blue or red.”

  “Well, you could always do both.”

  Listening to the two of them made something warm and fuzzy spread through her. Micah was laughing by the time Noah stood up. As he rejoined her in the main part of the office, he had a wide grin on his face. “Trinity, I got to tell you,” he said, his voice low. “That kid of yours … I think I’m crazy about him.”

  Then Noah moved past her, disappearing through the door that led to the shop.

  As it clicked shut behind him, she closed her eyes. “Noah … I got to tell you, I think I’m crazy about you.”

  Resting her head against the chair, she wondered if she should even try to fight this any longer. Or maybe that was what that kiss had been about.

  * * *

  He would ask her out.

  Noah had already made that decision.

  He figured it was trickier when there was a kid involved, but maybe they could do something nice and casual first, all three of them. Just dinner, maybe. Then, if things went okay, he could approach the subject of a date with just the two of them.

  It was a simple enough matter.

  There was absolutely no reason he should be completely terrified by the idea. Logically, at least, from an emotional standpoint, it made all the sense in the world.

  So he wasn’t going to think about it until he had to. He wasn’t sure when that moment would come, but he’d know it when it arrived.

  Until then, Noah would just carry on as normal. Today’s normal involved getting his butt to the coffee shop and trying to get as much work done as he could. Louisa was already riding his tail about the fact that they were a day or two behind. He’d like to point out to her that one of Hank’s men had died, but Louisa wasn’t the sort of person who’d see that as any concern of hers. She had paid for a job; she’d expect to see it done.

  They were going to finish a little off-schedule. Noah had already accepted that fact. But his job was to make up for as much time as possible. He had his crew coming in to help out today and they’d be making up for lost time and Hank was already at the site. Early, which would irritate Louisa—she didn’t like the racket going on during her peak business hours, but sometimes there was just no getting around it.

  Once Noah had gathered up his gear for the day, he cut back through the front. Maybe that magic moment would crop up. Trinity was sitting behind the desk, clad in that pretty grey suit that matched her eyes. She slid him a look and his heart stuttered in his chest.

  Have dinner with me.

  The words were right there.

  On the tip of his tongue.

  Looking down, he sucked in a deep breath. The words just stayed stuck in his throat.

  “Did you need something?” she asked.

  Yes. He wanted to bang his head against a wall. Had it been this hard twenty years ago? He couldn’t remember. “Ah…” Still floundering for words, he seized on something else entirely. Fumbling the phone out of his pocket, he put it on the side desk. “This isn’t Hank’s. I forgot it in the truck when I talked to him last, but I asked him when he called me this morning. He found it on the sidewalk, pretty sure it’s Lee’s. I’ll take it by the station when I finish up work for the day, but I don’t want to keep it with me. I’ve busted more than a few phones on the job. Don’t want to tear up something that’s not mine.”

  “Did you try seeing if it had the info in contacts or anything?”

  “Tried. Either it’s busted or the battery is dead.” He continued to stare at her, all the while mentally kicking his butt. Why was he talking about a stupid phone? He wanted to ask her out. Dinner. A meal. It wasn’t complicated, right?

  She turned the phone over in her slim, pretty hands. Her nails were the color of strawberries. He had a mental image of her stroking one fingertip down his chest, the way she’d just stroked it across the edge of the phone as she frowned. “I have a Galaxy, so I can’t even try to charge this.”

  “I use an iPhone.” He felt big and awkward standing there, out of place in his own office. Why was this so complicated? It was dinner. He’d bought her dinner before. What was the problem? No lightbulb came on and he didn’t suddenly find the courage, either. Shifting his feet, he looked at the phone, at her pretty red nails. “Anyway. Like I said, I’ll take care of it later. Should have done it last night, but I just had too much on my mind.”

  “If I remember, I can just give it to Detective Sims when he’s here tonight.”

  “He’s coming by here?”

  Her mouth flattened out and she looked away.

  Tension mounted in the room and the awkwardness drained out of Noah, replaced by a feeling he wasn’t entirely fond of. He didn’t like that look in her eyes. Not at all.

  “Trinity, is everything okay?” he asked softly.

  “It’s fine. Detective Sims just has more questions,” she said, biting the word off like it left a bad taste in her mouth. She waved a distracted hand as she put the phone down. “I don’t know just what he thinks I’m supposed to help him with, but he said he’d be by later this afternoon. I’ll probably be finished by five or so. Will you need me any more this week?”

  “Nice subtle change of subject there,” he said dryly, making a mental note to try to keep an eye out for Jeb’s car. Noah would be in town pretty much all day. “You know what’s going on in here better than I do by now. If you think you’ve got a handle on it, then we’re good. If you think you need another day this week, that’s fine, too. Now, what’s the deal with Jeb?”

  She turned toward the computer, her gaze locking on it like something there had her mesmerized. “I wish I knew. I’ve been out to the house with him. He’s called me twice. He seems rather hooked on the idea that I somehow knew Lee or something.”

  “Is he giving you a hard time?” Noah stared at her profile, willing her to look at him, but she didn’t.

  “I’m
sure he’s just doing his job.”

  Translation: Yes, but I’m too polite to say so, Noah decided. Maybe he’d say something to Jeb. Noah knew for a fact that the man could be like a dog with a bone. Not really a bad thing when it came to the job, but he was off-base with Trinity. “He tends to get tunnel vision,” Noah said softly. “Jeb can be a pain. He gets focused on a case, doesn’t see much else. He’s all about the job.”

  “That sounds like a cop.” She finally looked away from the monitor and smiled at Noah. Then she nodded at the clock. “You better get moving. Don’t you have a lot of work to get done over at the coffee shop?”

  * * *

  “I would kill for a pizza right about now,” she muttered, bent over the files spread out in front of her. She’d been up late last night working on a design for a new client with her online business and she’d overslept this morning. By the time she’d gotten Micah up and moving, Trinity hadn’t had time to grab anything but a granola bar and she felt bad eating too much of Ali’s food even though she’d been giving the other woman money for groceries and a little extra, since it looked like she was going to be locked out of her house for a few more days still.

  The good news was that she thought she might be able to move back into her place by the weekend—Noah had said they were making progress on the floor.

  The bad news … she might be back in her house by the weekend.

  That crazy house. That insane house.

  Nerves jangled inside her and that only made her craving for food that much worse. That miserable granola bar was nothing but a memory now, and if she didn’t get some food soon things were going to get ugly.

  A sandwich wasn’t going to cut it, either.

  “Finish the spreadsheet,” she told herself. If she finished the damn spreadsheet, she’d treat her and Micah to pizza.

  Right now, she was trying to get Noah a little more organized—which would let her be organized. She’d placed an order of supplies for him on her very first day, but they’d delivered the wrong supplies. She was still trying to fix that and the chaos was driving her nuts.

  How had he functioned like this?

  It wasn’t just the continued disorganization of the office, though.

  It wasn’t even that she had to accept the fact that she’d be back in the house soon.

  Anton had tried to call.

  Again.

  She’d ignored it, silencing the phone before Micah had noticed. He’d been wrapped up watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles—again—and hadn’t heard the phone, but sooner or later she’d have to talk to the man and tell him to quit calling.

  She’d just rather not do it with her son around.

  Thinking about him, thinking about what she needed to do with the house, dealing with the mess in Noah’s office, all of it had her head pounding, and her empty belly didn’t help matters at all.

  Once she got this spreadsheet done, she’d devour an entire pizza, she promised herself.

  The phone rang before she could complete the current entry—another thing that was driving her nuts. Half the damn town seemed to want to talk to Noah the past few days. Only part of it seemed business related, too.

  Reminding herself to be nice and pleasant, she reached for the phone.

  “Benningfield Contractors, can I help you?”

  “Yes.” A woman, her voice edged with agitation, demanded, “Put Noah on the phone.”

  “Ah, he isn’t in. Can I take a message?”

  “Look, sugar, I’m sure you’re the next floozy who thinks she can get him to marry her, but that man isn’t interested, okay? Now put him on the damn phone!”

  Leaning back in the chair, Trinity bit the inside of her cheek to keep from popping off the way she wanted to. “Ma’am, I’m not sure which floozy you think you’re talking to, but this is Mr. Benningfield’s office assistant … not a floozy hoping to marry him. He’s not in the office. Now, may I take a message?”

  “Office assistant.” The woman laughed sourly. “I bet you thought you’d be able to do a lot more. I tried to get the same damn job and he fired me within two weeks. Look, tell him Leslie Mayer called and I don’t have the time or the money to fuck around with waiting on the repairs. I need them done now.”

  Mayer—

  A light went off. Trinity remembered what Ali had said. I think half the women in town who apply have this idea they can take the job and get him to propose.

  Apparently Ali hadn’t been exaggerating.

  “I believe Noah has already discussed the terms of the job with you. There needs to be a deposit made up front,” Trinity said, fishing through the files until she found the estimate sheet. “Yes … a twenty-five percent deposit—that would be two hundred twenty-two dollars and ninety-eight cents—paid up front. Would you like to come by today and pay it?”

  “I’ll pay once the damn work is done.”

  Trinity rolled her eyes. “Well, Noah won’t be able to set up the time to come out until the deposit is paid, I’m afraid. If you like, I can give you the name of some of the other contractors in town who might be able to help you.”

  “They charge more. You know what? Fuck off. I’ll call Noah. He’ll set you straight.”

  As the phone disconnected in her ear Trinity grimaced. “Wow. Aren’t you pleasant?”

  Chewing the inside of her lip, she debated. Did she call Noah? Send him a text?

  Let him handle it?

  As the headache gnawed at her brain matter, she rubbed her temple. Generally, when she had been the one in charge and there had been a disgruntled customer she’d liked to be informed. Her dad had been the same. Anton hadn’t, but then again, looking back, she realized Anton hadn’t exactly been the ideal business executive.

  Something told her that Noah handled things with some level of professionalism—she’d seen that with her own eyes, even if he did let his invoices get years behind.

  Reaching for the phone, she blew out a sigh. She punched in his number and wished she was calling for any reason other than a bitchy woman.

  He answered on the second ring. “Hey,” she replied.

  “Hey, back. Everything okay?”

  She rubbed at an ink mark on the surface of the desk, and although he couldn’t see her, she shrugged. “Well, I’ve killed another third of those invoices—several checks have come in today; a supply order came in and it was half-wrong, so I spent twenty minutes on the phone arguing about how they messed it up—they don’t understand that we don’t need four dozen rolls of paper towels. I’m also dying for pizza.”

  “Ah … okay. The pizzeria has lunch specials, but you probably know that. None of that is why you’re calling.”

  She made a face at the phone. “How do you know?”

  “Because you handle that office like you’ve been doing it all your life. You’ve probably already settled the botched supply order. So why don’t you tell me why you really called?”

  Shoving a hand through her hair, she closed her eyes and slumped in the chair. Just as she opened her mouth, she heard a distinctive click over the line—he had another call coming in. She had a bad feeling she knew who it was.

  “Do you need to take that?” she asked, acid knocking up the back of her throat.

  “No. That’s what voice mail is for … and you. So what’s the problem?”

  “Remember that one customer you told me might call? Leslie Mayer? She had to pay the deposit up front before you’d start the work at her place?”

  Noah grunted. “Yeah. I have a funny feeling why she just called—that’s who the other caller is.”

  “I figured. She called. She’s pissed you won’t start the work. Apparently I’m just a floozy who took this job to get you to marry me, by the way. You’re going to set me straight once she gets you on the phone.” She continued to rub at the ink on the desk, although it wasn’t going to come up without stripping the varnish away, she suspected. “I explained once she’d paid the deposit, you’d be happy to get to work o
n her repairs.”

  His phone made another click.

  Noah’s chuckle drifted over the line. “You’re my hired floozy, huh? I’ve never had a hired floozy. Just what does that entail?”

  “Very funny, Noah.”

  “Well, it’s kind of interesting really. Do floozies go to work just to get married? Does that mean your intentions are honorable? Are mine? This is confusing me now that I think about it.”

  “Do you realize that all I’ve had to eat today is a granola bar?” she said, keeping her tone easy. “I get really cranky when I’m hungry. I’m not even close to done with the spreadsheet and you’re joking about floozies and intentions while all I can think about is pizza. For the record, I’m not the one who made the floozy comment. I’m just passing it on. Who uses that word anymore anyway?”

  “Apparently people around here … or at least, Leslie does.” The humor continued to linger in his voice as he said, “Okay, so I assume you’re calling to give me a heads-up about the fact that you took this job to try to trick me into marriage.”

  “You’re quite the comedian. It was more to let you know that she’s mad. Very mad, but yes, you’re forewarned.”

  “That doesn’t always help in some cases, but at least now I’ll have something to chuckle about once the conversation is done,” he said, the humor fading from his voice. A heavy sigh drifted over the phone. “I’m pretty busy the rest of the day, so I doubt I’ll be able to talk to Leslie before quitting time, but I will get in touch with her.”

  “Better you than me,” she muttered. An error on the spreadsheet caught her eye and she corrected it. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  “When I talk to her, I’ll be sure to let her know you’re not my hired floozy, either.”

  She made a face at the phone. “Noah, you’re not helping.”

  He laughed. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He paused, then added, “I’m sorry she gave you a hard time.”

  “That’s not your fault.” Her belly rumbled again and she darted a look at the clock. Almost time for lunch. That pizza was beckoning; she could all but hear it.

  “Listen … I can’t do lunch, but if you can maybe wait until dinner, I could help you out with that pizza thing. I wouldn’t mind some myself.”

 

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