by Joss Wood
“Are you okay?” she asked, jabbing her elbow into his side.
“Fine,” Noah said through gritted teeth.
Jules sighed. Since their conversation the other night at The Tavern, Jules now saw their past a little clearer and remembered having to badger Noah to open up, to tell her anything. He was one of those rare individuals who internalized everything, preferring to rely on himself and his own judgment to solve his problems.
Unlike the rest of the clan, Noah had refused to openly discuss girls, college, his problems. The best way to get Noah to talk had been to join him on the back roof of Lockwood House and refuse to budge until he’d opened up. That was how she found out that his tenth grade girlfriend had dumped him, that he was going to study yacht design, how he was dealing with news that his mom had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.
But if she’d struggled to make him speak up on a thirty-foot-high roof back when they were friends, there was no chance of him opening up to her in a crowded room heaving with people who considered eavesdropping an art form.
Jules accepted Noah’s offer to get her a drink from the bar and, standing by a high table, looked around Whip. She took in the deep orange walls, the black chandeliers, the harlequin floors. The decor was upmarket and vibrant... She approved. Just like Darby studied and commented on buildings, critiquing decor was an occupational habit for Jules.
Jules looked at Noah’s broad back, saw that he would be waiting at the bar for a while and, feeling anxious, tapped her tiny black clutch bag on the table. By mutual, unspoken agreement, they’d given each other some space this past week, hoping to put some distance between them and their hot, up-against-his-office-wall encounter. She hadn’t thought about him a lot, only when she woke up, ten million times during the day and when she went to sleep at night.
Jules sighed. Despite her busy days and her insane workload, the urge to touch base with Noah was at times overwhelming. A random thought would pop into her head and the only person she wanted to share it with was Noah. She’d be out and about, see an innovative light fixture or an interesting face and she’d reached for her phone, wanting to tell Noah about what she’d heard, done or seen.
A part of her thought she was sliding back into the habits of her younger self, to when she’d been in constant contact with Noah, but this was something more, something deeper. Every time she forced herself to cut the call, to erase the already typed message, she felt like she was stabbing a piece of her soul, like she was fighting against the laws of nature.
Not being connected to Noah was wrong. But her instinct for self-preservation was stronger than her romantic self, so she kept her distance.
But, God, her heart leaped when she opened the door to him tonight. It threatened to jump out of her chest when he placed a hand on her lower back to escort her to the classic luxury car he’d kept locked up in the underground garage at Eli’s apartment. She’d gripped the door handle to keep from leaning sideways and touching her lips to his, from threading her fingers into his hair.
Jules tossed another glance at Noah’s back. She really needed that drink and the soothing effects of alcohol, though a swift kick in the rear might be equally effective.
Noah was off-limits. Today, tomorrow, always. She rather liked having her heart caged by her ribs and not walking around in someone else’s hand.
“Jules Brogan?”
Jules turned and smiled when a still-fit-looking older man with shrewd green eyes and silver hair held out his hand to her. Jules tipped her head, not recognizing his face.
“Ivan Blake.”
Okay, the name sounded familiar but she couldn’t place him. The connection would, she hoped, come to her in a minute or two. “I hear that you are Paris’s interior designer.”
“For her yacht, yes.”
“And I understand that you and Noah are seeing each other?”
Now, what did that have to do with him? Since she wasn’t prepared to answer him, she just kept quiet and looked around the room. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Should I?” Jules asked him, her voice three degrees cooler than frosty.
“I’m Morgan’s father.”
And a million pennies dropped. “Ah.” What else could she say? I never liked your daughter, and I think she played Noah like a violin? “Is Morgan here?”
Because her presence would really make this evening extra interesting. And by interesting she meant freaking awful.
“She wasn’t feeling well so she decided to stay home.”
Thank God and all his angels, archangels and cherubs.
“She’s been trying to reconnect with Noah and she feels like you are standing in her way,” Ivan said.
Jules nodded to Noah, who was standing a head and sometimes shoulders above many men at the bar. “He’s a big guy, Mr. Blake, I couldn’t stand in his way.”
“You’re missing my point, Miss Brogan.”
Jules allowed her irritation to creep into her voice. “You’re missing mine. Noah is a successful, smart, determined man. If he wanted to reconnect with Morgan, I wouldn’t be able to stop him. And tell me, Mr. Blake, when is Morgan going to stop having her daddy fight her battles?”
“Morgan is fragile.”
Jules wanted to tell him that Morgan was also manipulative, but she kept silent. Wanting to walk away but hemmed in by the crowd, she had to stand there and keep her expression civil.
“Would you be interested in doing some work for me?”
Jules’s eyes snapped up at the change of subject. Say what? “Are you kidding me? Morgan would disembowel you if you hired me.”
“Not if you distanced yourself from Noah to give her a chance to win him back,” Ivan said, his voice both low and as hard as nails.
“I don’t need the work, Mr. Blake.”
“But your sister does. She’s been looking for a breakthrough project for a while, a way to put her name out there, to allow her to work on bigger and more exciting projects. She needs a chance and you could give that to her.
“I’m on the board of a very well funded foundation dedicated to promoting the art and artists of this city. The foundation has acquired a building not far from the Institute of Contemporary Art which we intend to demolish and replace with another smaller art gallery and museum. We’re looking for an architect to design the space,” Ivan continued.
Dear Lord, that was so up Darby’s street.
“Walk away from him, just like he walked away from you, and I’ll put in a good word.”
Wow.
Jules frowned at him, feeling like she was part of a badly written soap opera. “You’re kidding, right? People don’t do this in the real world.”
“Oh, they do it far more often than you think,” Ivan said, a ruthless smile accompanying his words. “Just think about my offer. I’m prepared to give Darby a fair chance, maybe throw some design work your way.”
“If I break up with Noah,” Jules clarified, trying to stifle the bubble of laughter crawling up her throat. This was both too funny and too bizarre for words. He was offering Darby a huge project, a project that would catapult her career to the next level if Jules broke up with her fake boyfriend.
Again... Wow.
A part of her wanted to say yes; this man was offering her sister an opportunity of a lifetime. An art gallery and museum... Was he kidding? Darby would sell her soul to work on a project like that! Jules hesitated, conscious that she had yet to say no, that she should say no.
“Turning me down would be a bad business decision, Ms. Brogan. I can promote you and your sister, but the pendulum swings both ways.”
And that meant what? He’d blackball and bad-mouth them? Jules tipped her head to the side and was surprised at the resignation she saw in his eyes. He didn’t want to do this, act this way. The man was tired, emotionally drained.
�
�Why are you letting her push you like this?” Jules asked softly.
Ivan pulled in a deep breath, and sorrow and anger and fear mingled in his eyes. Ivan stared at her and was silent for so long that Jules didn’t think he was going to answer or acknowledge her question. “Because,” Ivan said, speaking so softly that Jules had to strain to hear his voice, “I’m scared that if I don’t she’s going to go a step too far.”
Ivan ran his hand over his jaw and stepped back. “Let me know your decision, Ms. Brogan.”
Before she could reply, tell him that she wasn’t interested, Ivan Blake faded into the crowd, leaving Jules alone and wondering if she’d imagined the bizarre conversation.
* * *
“Have you seen Morgan?” Noah asked through clenched teeth.
Jules turned at Noah’s voice and, not for the first, and probably not the last, time that night, noticed how good he looked in his black suit, slate-green-and-black-checked shirt and perfectly knotted black tie. Jules followed his eyes and saw that he was looking at Ivan Blake, his expression as dark as thunder.
He handed her an icy margarita and Jules took a sip. “She’s not here, No. You can relax.” His expression immediately lightened and his shoulders dropped from around his ears.
So his bad mood was due to his fear of running into Morgan. Now that made sense and it was something she could fully relate to.
“Thank God. And how do you know?” Noah replied, his hand wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey.
“Her father told me,” Jules said.
“He spoke to you? What did he want?” Noah released a bitter laugh. “Oh, wait, let me guess. He wants you to break up with me.”
No flies on her big guy. “Yep. How did you guess?”
“Because his daughter has been bombarding me with text and voice mail messages, begging to meet, to give her another chance.”
Jules reached out, grabbed the lapel of his jacket and twisted the fabric in her fist. “You do that and I swear, I will drown you in the bay.”
A small smile touched Noah’s mouth and he removed his jacket from her fingers and smoothed down the fabric. “I’m not stupid. I got stuck in that web once. I’m not moronic enough to do that again.”
“If she’s hassling you, you need to tell her that, Noah.”
Noah scowled. “I’ve been trying! I’ve asked her to meet. I even popped by their house but apparently no one was home. But I did catch movement behind the drapes of what was always Morgan’s room.”
“You know where her room was?”
Noah shrugged. “Sex.” Ew. Jules shuddered but Noah didn’t notice. “She’s been trying to get my attention for three weeks and now she won’t talk to me, answer the door?”
“Of course she won’t. She knows you’re going to tell her something she doesn’t want to hear. Instead, she sent her father to try and manipulate the situation.”
He wore his normal inscrutable expression but Jules saw the worry in his eyes. “Would he be able to manipulate you?”
The urge to thump him was strong. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t ask me that.”
“Sorry, but Ivan Blake has the ability to discern what people want or need and then push the right buttons to obtain his—or in this case, Morgan’s—goal.”
There was a story there and she’d ask him to explain, but first she wanted to go back a few steps, to get him to clarify an earlier point. Actually, thinking about it, it was still related to the topic at hand. “What did you mean when said you got caught in his web? As I said the other night, you stayed engaged to the girl long enough that she couldn’t have been all bad.”
“The sex was fantastic,” Noah said, and Jules narrowed her eyes. He lifted up his hands in apology. “I was young and she was talented. But she was hard work.”
“Again...you were together for nearly two and a half years! Why?” Jules demanded, knowing there was something she didn’t understand, a huge puzzle piece she was missing.
Noah took a sip from his glass, his eyes never wavering from hers. “I never proposed to Morgan.” What? Well, that was unexpected. Still, it didn’t explain the long engagement.
Noah ran a hand through his hair and Jules noticed his agitation. Good, he should be agitated since he’d allowed whatever he had with Morgan—the supposedly fantastic sex, ugh—to get so out of hand.
“That Christmas Eve we had a discussion about commitment, but I was drunk and exhausted and don’t remember much of it. I woke up the next morning, sporting a hangover from hell, to this wave of good wishes on our engagement,” Noah said, pitching his voice at a level only she could hear. “Getting married was the last thing on my mind.
“Then, now and anytime since,” Noah added, his words coated with conviction.
His statement was an emotional slap followed by a knife strike up and under her ribs, twisting as it headed for her heart. She shouldn’t be feeling this, there was nothing between them but a long-ago friendship, a few kisses and hot sex. Still, something died inside of her and in that moment, standing in a crowd of the best-dressed and wealthiest Bostonians, she felt indescribably sad and utterly forlorn.
She’d never imagined that Noah would live his life alone. Like his mom, he had an enormous capacity for love, provided he thought you were worth the effort. Once, a long time ago, she had been worth the effort. But that boy, the one who’d trusted her in his own noncommunicative way, had loved her, of that she was sure.
This adult version of Noah, tough, stoic, determined, didn’t. And he would never allow himself to. The thought popped into her head that if he wasn’t going to marry, then neither was she, but Jules dismissed it as quickly as it formed. His decision had no impact on her future plans...
She hoped.
Annoyed with herself, Jules opened her mouth to bring them back to the ever so delightful topic of his engagement to Morgan. “So why stay engaged, No? Fess up.”
Noah rubbed his hand over his jaw, and Jules wondered if he’d tell her the truth or fob her off. “So, there I was on Christmas morning, nursing a hangover from hell, and before I could make sense of what I was hearing, Ivan handed me a massive sponsorship deal. It was three times bigger than any offers I’d received before, included a new yacht, an experienced crew.”
Jules struggled to make sense of his words. “But you were sponsored by Wind and Solar.”
“Which he has a controlling but little-known interest in,” Noah explained. “He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“To drop out of college, to run away?”
Noah’s jaw tensed. “That’s your perception, not mine.”
“You left me with barely a word and definitely without an explanation. You abandoned me and our friendship. You also broke your promise to your mom to look after your brothers and to finish college,” Jules hissed.
The color drained from Noah’s face and Jules wished she could take her words back. It wasn’t like Noah left his brothers alone and defenseless when he went away ten years ago; Eli was already in college and Ben was about to start his freshman year. They both had a solid support system in her mom and dad and Levi, and could turn to any of them if they needed help or guidance.
His brothers had been fine but he did leave them. As for finishing his education, his lack of a degree hadn’t hurt his career at all, so who was she to judge? But it was just another promise he’d made that he’d broken...
We’ll always be friends, Ju. There will never be a time that we don’t talk. I’ll always be there for you, Ju. You can rely on me...
She could and she had...until she couldn’t. And didn’t.
Noah drained his glass of whiskey. “Just to clarify... I finished my education. I didn’t break that promise. I did my best to look after Eli and Ben. That was part of the reason I had to leave, why I had no choice but to take the—” Noah jerked his head in Ivan’s dire
ction “—asshat’s offer. I’m sorry I wasn’t around, Jules, sorry that I missed your dad’s funeral, that I couldn’t hold your hand. But, Jesus, I was doing what I needed to do!”
“You’re not telling me everything, Noah.”
Noah stepped closer to her, trapping Jules between the wall and his hot, masculine frame. Her traitorous body immediately responded to his nearness, and her nipples puckered and all the moisture in her mouth and throat dried up. He was using their attraction as a distraction from their conversation but Jules didn’t care. Her need to be kissed was the only thought occupying her shrunken brain.
She shouldn’t kiss him, because kissing was one small step from sleeping with him again, thereby narrowing that emotional distance she needed to keep between them. Jules placed her hand on his chest to push him away but her actions had all the effect of a ladybug’s.
“We’re supposed to be lovers, Jules. Can you damn well act like it?” Noah muttered, dropping his head so that his mouth was a hairbreadth from hers. Jules sighed, forcing her body to relax.
“You drive me crazy, Noah.”
“Ditto, babe.”
Noah’s mouth skated across hers in a leisurely slide, his lips testing hers. Jules wound her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the surprisingly soft hair at the back of his head, wishing that she could run her hand down his back, over his butt.
Noah tore his mouth off hers and pulled back, lifting his hand to her face. Holding her cheek in his hand, the pad of his thumb glided across her bottom lips and she shuddered, the sensation almost too much to bear. “Yeah, I far prefer soft and sexy Jules to spitting and snarling Jules.”
Jules opened her mouth to blast him but Noah spoke before she could, resting his forehead on hers. “Wind and Solar offered me a hell of a deal but it came with a huge price... I was caught between a rock and a hard place.”
Oh, she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear.