Anxiety wormed through her as the memory of last night’s terror surfaced. She didn’t want to talk about that. Especially not with Noah. Bad enough he’d seen her that way.
She gave him an indifferent smile. “What’s up?”
He’d always had an intense kind of stare that made her feel as naked as the day she was born. She resisted the urge to squirm in her seat.
“I know I said yesterday we should keep to ourselves. But given that we’re going to be here at least another night—and the house just got a lot smaller—maybe we should, you know, call a truce like you said.”
As long as he didn’t want to talk about last night. She lifted a shoulder. “Whatever you want, Noah.”
“Let’s just keep the past off the table, and I think we’ll be able to get through this.”
Fine by her. Wasn’t like she wanted to wallow in that pigpen either. “All right then.”
He nodded. “All right. I got some sanding to do upstairs.”
“Can I keep your phone a bit longer? I have more calls to make.”
“Sure. Just turn it off when you’re done.”
Two hours later she’d found a stylist from Ellijay who’d just retired. The woman was glad to fill in at the shop the next day. Josephine finished the schedule and borrowed Noah’s laptop to e-mail a copy to Callie.
Once it whooshed off into cyberspace, Josephine turned off the laptop, which was almost out of battery power, and went to check on Noah.
It was cold beyond the plastic partition. She crossed her arms against the chill and followed the scratching sound down the hall and up the stairs. Shadow was on her heels, his claws clicking on the wood floor.
Noah’s back was to her as he ran the sandpaper over the seams. He stopped to blow the dust away, felt the seam, then continued sanding.
The electric sander sat in the corner, useless. He was either in a big hurry to finish or he was avoiding her. She didn’t have to dither long to figure out which.
Her eyes fell over his masculine form. Those broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist. His no-fuss jeans hugged his derriere and his long, thick legs. He took a step to the right as he smoothed the horizontal seam.
He’d worked for his dad at Mitchell Home Improvement since he was in high school, learning the business from the ground up—as had his brother, Seth. After his dad retired the brothers took over day-to-day operations of the company.
The renovation at the barbershop had been the smallest job he’d taken on personally in a long while—they’d been dating for weeks before he’d confessed that little tidbit.
“Do you miss it?” The words came out before her brain had even engaged.
His hand stilled, the steady scrape of the sanding stopping for an instant before resuming. “Sometimes.”
She leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. “How’d you end up here? At the ranch?”
There was a long pause, so long she wondered if he was going to ignore her.
He stopped sanding, felt the seam, and continued. “Needed a change, I guess. Then Sweetbriar came up on the market. Dave and Doreen wanted to retire to Arizona, and they liked the idea of me running the place. So they cut me a great deal.”
“How’s the family business doing without you?”
“Holding its own. Seth hired someone to replace me—Carl Owens. You might know him.”
“He comes into the shop now and then. Was Seth mad when you left?”
Noah huffed. “You could say that. He got over it soon enough though.” He folded over the sandpaper. “How’s the barbershop doing?”
“Good. It’s doing good.” She injected some enthusiasm into her voice. It really was doing well. Maybe it just wasn’t everything she’d dreamed it would be. The days were long, and the nights in her upstairs apartment were quiet. And long. And maybe a little lonely.
“How’s your grandma?” he asked.
“She’s all right, I guess.”
Eloise Biddle was Josephine’s grandma on her father’s side, and her only living relative. The woman was the main reason she’d chosen to open her barbershop in Copper Creek when her absentee father had left her with an inheritance.
Unfortunately, she had advanced Alzheimer’s. She was at Piney Acres, not too far outside of town. Josephine finally had a grandma, even if the woman didn’t remember her from one visit to the next.
Noah looked over his shoulder, and she realized she’d been quiet for too long.
“Her seventieth birthday was last week. You should’ve seen her with the cupcakes I brought over. She had icing all over her face by the time she was finished. I’d show you the pictures, but my phone’s dead.”
“She always did like her sweets.”
Noah used to go with Josephine to visit Nana on Sunday afternoons. A couple months ago she’d found out from one of the nurses that he still visited her every so often. The discovery had rocked Josephine back on her feet.
She stuffed her cold fingers in her back pockets. “I might could help . . .”
She’d helped him with the sanding at her own shop. Did he remember standing behind her, his hand over hers, showing her how to run the sander over the seam?
He glanced over his shoulder, but his face gave nothing away. “No need for you to get all dusty with only one set of clothes.”
“I don’t mind. It’ll give me something to do.”
After a long moment, he gestured toward a package of sanding paper. “You can grab a T-shirt out of my room to throw on if you want.”
Josephine found a plain white T-shirt draped over the bureau and slipped it over her clothes. It hung to midthigh, but it would protect her sweater and provide extra warmth. She dragged in a long whiff of his musky fragrance and imagined she still felt the warmth of his skin.
Get a grip, Josephine.
Back in the attic she set to work on the adjacent wall. “What are you going to do with this room when it’s finished?”
“It’ll be an office for now.”
“For now?” She had visions of Mary Beth peeking into the room first thing in the morning. A crib set up on the opposite wall, a baby cooing happily from inside. The thought settled like a boulder in her stomach.
“Two bedrooms are better for resale,” he said.
“You going somewhere?”
“Just planning for the future. Plus, winters are a little slow. Need something to pass the time.”
“You always wanted a little house in the woods.”
She bit her lip as soon as the words were out. It was too close to touching on the past—all those long conversations they’d had late into the night as they’d lain in bed, dreaming of their future.
His silence confirmed she’d crossed the line, as did the twitch of his jaw. Last thing she wanted was to ruin the tenuous truce between them. Yesterday’s silence had been awfully hard.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
He blew the drywall dust and kept working. “Get everything settled for tomorrow?”
His tone was a little strained, but she was grateful for the subject change. “I did. I surely hope I don’t have to miss the whole thing though. I was looking forward to it.”
“Those girls won’t forget it.”
She hoped it was a special night for each of them. She turned the sandpaper in her hand and continued sanding.
“It’s a nice thing you’re doing.”
Her face flushed with the compliment, even though his voice was laced with reluctance. If she were honest, nothing had felt so good in a long time.
“Thanks. I just hope I get to be there to see them all gussied up. Especially Ava—the girl who called yesterday. I hope Callie’s son treats her good. She deserves a special night out.”
“What’s his name?”
“Alex Redding. You know him?”
“Vaguely. My brother hired him to work on a crew last summer. Far as I know Seth never had any complaints.”
“Good to know. He seems like a nice kid. I’m just ne
rvous for Ava. Some guy dumped her at the last minute.”
The teen years could be so hard. Girls were cruel, and guys could be jerks. She knew that for certain.
“She’ll show up at the dance on the arm of a good-looking kid and make that other guy eat his heart out.”
“I hope so.” But Josephine knew things didn’t always turn out so rosy. Sometimes a wonderful evening could take a terrible turn for the worse.
Chapter 14
Cartersville, Georgia
Thirteen years ago
Hey, Josephine.” Brett Connors leaned against the locker beside hers. His broad frame hulked over her, and his masculine scent tickled her nose.
“Hi, Brett.” Her face heated, and she hoped her cheeks weren’t turning bright red. Brett was a junior and on the football team. His crowd didn’t pay her much mind except for a catcall or whistle here and there. She was only a freshman, after all.
She pulled her English textbook out of her locker and tried to think what else she needed before lunch. It was hard to focus with his green eyes so intent on her.
“I like your sweater,” he said. “It matches your eyes.”
She glanced down at the baby-blue top she’d gotten at the Goodwill over the weekend. “Thanks.”
“So . . .” Brett tilted his head. “The prom’s coming up.”
“I heard.” Her heart was suddenly beating in her chest like a kick drum.
“You planning to go with anyone?”
“Um, no.” She gave up on her books and shut her locker, looking up at him. She was sure he could see her pulse fluttering in her neck.
“Wanna go with me?” The corner of his lips turned up in that half smile that had every girl in Bartow County swooning. He had perfect lips. The upper one bowed like the top of a heart, the bottom pleasantly full.
She was staring—at his lips! She pulled her eyes away, adjusting her books in her arms.
“Um . . . aren’t you going with Shelby?”
The two of them had been going out all year. Shelby, her best friend until last year, when Shelby turned on her over some boy Josephine didn’t even like. Ever since then, Shelby and her minions had been her worst nightmare.
“We broke up.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not. You shouldn’t be either. She’s sure no friend of yours, you know.”
Wasn’t that the truth. But going out with Brett would only pull off old scabs. And as much as she wanted to go with him, she didn’t want any trouble from Shelby.
“So, how about it? We’ll have a good time. I’ll take you someplace nice to eat beforehand.”
“I don’t know. I’d like to, but Shelby . . .”
“Hey, listen, she’s already moved on. That’s why we broke up.”
Josephine suddenly wanted this so badly. She’d never gone out on an actual date. And Brett Connors. Every girl at Cartersville High was smitten with him.
She didn’t have a fancy dress to wear, but she remembered a pink dress she’d seen in the window at the Goodwill. It had been so soft and beautiful—and only eighteen dollars. She had that much in her babysitting jar.
He raised his brows and gave her a playful look, nudging her shoulder. “So . . . how ’bout it, Josephine Dupree? Be my date?”
Her stomach fluttered wildly. How could a girl say no to that face? “Okay . . . sure.”
He walked her to class, carrying her books. She made him late to his own class, but he didn’t seem to mind. That week he showed up at her locker at least once a day. He got her phone number and called her twice, firming up plans for Saturday and talking about this and that.
Things had shifted at school as the rumor mill started up. Some of the popular junior crowd acknowledged her in the hallways. Guys who’d hardly paid her any mind at all now gave her long, appreciative looks.
And Shelby gave her the stink eye across the lunchroom. Josephine had thought about approaching her old friend and trying to work things out, but clearly that was off the table now. Josephine didn’t know what the big problem was. She’d seen Shelby all week hanging on Everett Smith’s arm in the halls and catching rides in his new Mustang after school. What did she care who Brett took to prom?
By Saturday night, Josephine decided she was going to put Shelby and her new friends out of her mind. She was going to enjoy her evening.
She was glad when Eddie left as she was getting ready. Bad enough Brett was picking her up and would see their crummy trailer. He lived in a nice subdivision on the other side of town. His dad owned a successful car dealership, and his mom was on the town council.
Josephine wasn’t going to think like that tonight. Brett Connors had asked her to the prom, and she looked pretty fetching, if she did say so herself. She stared in the speckled mirror on the back of her door. The satiny pink dress made her feel like a princess, and her hair fell in a waterfall of golden waves. Maybe she wasn’t good for much, but she knew how to do hair right.
An engine sounded outside the thin walls. Josephine grabbed her bag of clothes for the after-prom and a light sweater, then dashed out the door. No way was she letting him see the inside of this place. The outside was bad enough.
Brett was coming around the front of a shiny Hummer as she exited. He wore a black tux, and when he smiled he looked like he should be on a magazine cover.
His eyes gave a flicker of male appreciation as they raked over her. “Wow. You look awful nice, Josephine.”
Her cheeks went warm. “Thank you. So do you.”
“You like the car? My dad let me borrow it for the night.”
“It’s amazing.”
He opened her car door, and they were off. She was so nervous, but he put her at ease with a steady stream of conversation. He took her to Antonio’s, a nice Italian restaurant in the next town over, where she had a plate of the best pasta she’d ever tasted.
By the time they reached the school, she was flushed with pleasure. They hung around his friends mostly, staying far away from Shelby and Everett and their group. Brett kept a proprietary arm looped around her or a hand on the small of her back. When he danced with her he held her close, looking into her eyes, smiling until his one dimple came out to play. It was without a doubt the best night of her life.
The after-party was in a field at Grant Bradley’s place. She’d heard about the bonfire parties and was a little nervous about all the drinking, but Brett stayed close by. She slowly sipped on one can of beer while Brett finished one. Then two. Then three.
It was getting late, and she was growing tired, but she chided herself.
Relax, Josephine. Just enjoy the night.
The fire crackled and hissed, sending sparks up into the night sky. The smell of woodsmoke and boisterous chatter filled the air. Josephine shivered.
“You cold?”
“A little.”
Brett shrugged out of his jacket and slipped it over her shoulders. “Wanna go for a walk? The creek’s right down that path. There’s a tire swing and a dock where we swim in the summer. I’ll have to bring you here when it warms up.”
Josephine returned his smile. “That’d be nice.” She was referring to the swimming part, but he took it as an answer to his question about the walk.
She shrugged. Now that she had his jacket, she’d be toasty enough without the bonfire.
He left his beer behind, and Josephine’s pulse sped as he grabbed her hand. But as they left the firelight, shadows of the night closed around them, and Josephine’s heart stuttered. The suffocating feeling rose up inside, and she worked hard to push it down.
This was Brett, not Shark. He wouldn’t hurt her.
Her hand tightened around his. The path through the woods was narrow, so they walked slowly. She was grateful for the full moon that lit the way. Brett held back branches and caught her when she stumbled over a root.
“I got you. We’re almost there.”
The noise of the party faded about the same time that the trickling of the cree
k reached her ears. The woods opened to a grassy bank. She was grateful to leave the shadowed woods behind.
He settled her into the tire swing, and she squealed as the tire carried her out over the creek. He laughed and pushed her higher. The wind tugged her hair off her face, and she leaned back, kicking her legs out.
After a while, dizzy with motion, she dragged her feet. “That was so fun. I haven’t been on a swing in years,” she said as he helped her out of the tire.
She followed Brett down the bank and onto the pier that jutted out into the water, and sank down beside him on the wooden planks.
Moonlight shone off the water, and overhead stars spread across the black sky like a million fireflies. She saw Ursa Minor and Cassiopeia. And there was Andromeda. The familiar sight calmed her.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“You’re beautiful.”
She glanced at him.
The way he was looking at her made her heart pound against her ribs. She’d only been kissed once before, by an older boy at a carnival. His groping hands and ragged breath had reminded her of those awful nights, and she had twisted from his arms and run all the way home. Locked herself in her room.
Brett’s hand squeezed her shoulder lightly, and she realized she’d been quiet too long. “Thank you.”
He gave her a soft smile. “It’s true. You were the most beautiful girl at the whole prom. Every guy there was jealous of me.”
She gave a little laugh. “That’s not true.”
“Sure it is.” And there was that sideways smile again.
Her breath stuttered.
“I’m glad you came with me, Josephine.”
“Me too.”
He hooked a finger under her chin and gently tipped her chin up. His lips were soft and warm. They moved slowly against hers. She willed herself to feel something. He was kissing her exactly right.
His hand slid to cup her jaw as the other came around her waist, pulling her closer. A thread of anxiety wormed through her, but she pushed it back. She wasn’t going to give in to fear.
It’s just a kiss, Josephine. For pity’s sake.
And a very gentle one at that. As soon as the thought formed, he deepened the kiss. She told herself to relax. They were only making out. Every girl made out. She was probably the last one in her class to kiss like this.
Sweetbriar Cottage Page 9