Sweetbriar Cottage

by Denise Hunter

  He was close behind her. So close she could feel his warmth, smell his musky, masculine scent. Feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke.

  He moved her other hand on the hammer. “Choke up a bit. It’ll give you more control. All right now, go ahead.”

  She poised the hammer. “Don’t you want to move your fingers?”

  “I trust you.”

  She tossed a wry smile over her shoulder. “Well, there’s your first mistake, Noah Mitchell.”

  “You remembered my last name.” His voice was low and smoky. His breath stirred the hairs at her temple. “See, you do like me.”

  “Your company is Mitchell Home Improvement. It’s all over your truck, not to mention the paperwork.”

  His lips quirked. “You’re protesting awful hard there, Josie. Be careful, you’re going to give yourself away.”

  She opened her mouth to deny it, but he’d already moved on.

  “Okay, give it little taps like this, until the nail is set.” He demonstrated, his hand around hers. He pulled her left hand away as the nail eased into the drywall. “Then you can give it a few good whacks, take it the rest of the way home.”

  She’d lost track of what he was saying. He smelled so darn good. His work-roughened hands felt like heaven against hers.

  “Go out with me this Friday.” The low grate of his voice in her ear plucked at her resolve.

  “We shouldn’t. We’re working together.”

  “Temporarily. That won’t change. We have a contract.” He gave her a playful look straight out of her own handbook, but somehow more genuine. “Come on, now. I know you like me.”

  “I’m really busy right now. The shop is my focus, and I really shouldn’t be . . .”

  He let loose of the hammer and leaned against the drywall beside her, giving her a long look.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I know you’ve gone out with other guys since you’ve been here.”

  She popped an eyebrow.

  “It’s a small town. Don’t make me name them.”

  It was true. She’d gone out with three different guys. But they were only first dates, and those guys posed no threat to her emotional well-being. She hadn’t let any of them come upstairs afterward—though two of them had tried.

  She’d escaped her reputation in Cartersville and wasn’t eager to repeat her mistakes here. Women weren’t going to send their men here for a cut and shave if she had a reputation.

  “I’m not giving up,” he said.

  She had a feeling he was telling the truth. And that Noah Mitchell was a man to fight long and hard for what he wanted.

  “Why won’t you go out with me?”

  She gave him a sassy look. “Maybe I just don’t want to ruin you for every other woman.”

  He laughed. “You just might, at that.”

  “Let me save you a little time, sweetheart. Let’s say we went out somewhere, like . . .”

  “A picnic by Piney Creek. Followed by a horseback ride through Pleasant Gap.”

  She blinked. Okay, she hadn’t expected that. “All right. So we go out. We eat, we ride, we talk, whatever. I learn a little about you, you learn a little about me. You walk me to the door. We say good night. You ask me on a second date, and I say no.” She shrugged.

  He gave her a look. “Why would you say no? We had a great time.”

  She laughed. “Okay. Maybe we did. But . . .” She smiled sweetly to soften the blow and poked her finger into his chest to punctuate her words. “I’m not having sex with you, mister. That’s the bottom line.”

  He gave her a searching look. “I don’t recall asking you to have sex, Josie.”

  “Oh, please. You’re a man. That’s where this is headed. I’m just trying to save you the trouble.” She delivered the line with just the right amount of sass.

  Instead of laughing it off or flushing at being caught, he tilted his head and locked onto her eyes.

  Her smile faltered.

  “You’re pretty cynical, Josie.” There was no insult in his tone. Just a statement of fact. “You remind me of my grandmother.”

  She gave a lilting laugh. “You need to work on your lines, sugar.”

  “It wasn’t a line. Cynic or not, my grandmother was the finest woman I’ve ever known.”

  The compliment filled her with warmth, but it came with a side of guilt. Sometimes she felt a little harsh when she was with Noah. But she couldn’t help who she was.

  “Thank you for the kind thought. But I prefer to think of myself as a realist.”

  “Realism leaves room for hope.”

  He’d hit the target in one shot, and she could swear those eyes were looking down deep into her soul.

  She gave a careless shrug and a cheeky smile. “You’re right. I’m hopeless. You should definitely give up on me.”

  “I have enough hope for the both of us.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “Come on. One date. What’s it going to hurt?”

  She gave a hearty sigh. Some guys had to learn the hard way, she supposed.

  Her heart thumped so hard at what she was about to do, she wondered if he could see it through her black top. “One date?”

  “That’s all I’m asking.”

  “And then you’ll give it a rest.”

  He lifted one muscled shoulder. “If that’s what you want.”

  She studied him closely, meeting his resolute stare with one of her own. “All right, Noah Mitchell. One date.”

  As it turned out, they didn’t end up going on that picnic and horseback ride. The next weekend was the Peach Festival. It started with a parade down Main Street, followed by carnival games and food, and culminated in a dance on the town square.

  Josephine worked until five, when Noah was supposed to pick her up. She told herself she should wear some old pair of jeans and a button-up that reached her neck, but in the end she couldn’t bring herself to follow through.

  And she was tickled with her decision when Noah’s jaw slackened at the sight of her in her red wraparound dress.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed, drawing her attention to his clean-shaven throat. “You’re stunning.”

  His tone, the look on his face, made warmth radiate through her body. She quirked a brow. “Your lines are improving, Mr. Mitchell.”

  She gave him a bold visual sweep. A black button-down made the most of his broad shoulders, and khakis had never looked so good on a man. “You’re not so bad yourself, sugar.”

  The town square had been transformed into an intimate gathering place. A local band played country music on a stage. White lights twinkled over a makeshift dance floor.

  The sweltering summer heat had given way to a mild evening, and the air was heavy with the scent of honeysuckle and freshly cut grass. People crowded the lawn. Neighbors, most of whom she hadn’t met, mingled in groups, talking and laughing. Good churchgoing folk. What was she doing here? For a moment she wanted to run back to the safety of her shop.

  This isn’t Cartersville. These people don’t know a thing about you.

  As they entered the fray Noah took her hand, and she couldn’t bring herself to be anything but grateful for the physical connection.

  “I’ll introduce you around,” he said over the noise. “It’ll be good for your business.”

  In the next hour she met so many people her mind was spinning, and her jaws ached from smiling. Noah’s presence made it easy to relax. It was obvious he was well liked, his family well respected.

  The people she met were friendly and seemed glad to have a new business in town. She began to think she could fit in here. She could make friends and build her business. Nobody was saying bad things about her or whispering behind their hands. Nobody was calling her names or keying her car.

  Darkness had fallen by the time Noah tugged her away from a group, giving her a smile she felt clear down to her toes. “That’s it,” he said. “I’m done sharing you.”

  He drew her onto the crowded dance floor as the haunting mel
ody of Brad Paisley’s “She’s Everything” began.

  Josephine avoided his eyes as he pulled her into his arms, settling his hand at her waist. She wasn’t tall enough to see over his shoulder, so she focused on her hand, resting there. Her red nails were a stark contrast to the black of his shirt.

  Focus on that, Josephine. Not on the way your heart’s going wild or the way your mouth is as dry as a cotton ball.

  Then his thigh brushed hers, and she caught the faint masculine smell of him. They moved well together, like they’d been doing this all their lives.

  “So, tell me,” he said, his eyes laser-focused on her. “How’d you end up in the hair business?”

  She shrugged. “I always had a gift for it, I suppose. My girlfriends were always wanting me to fix their hair, so when I graduated, I went to beauty school.”

  “Did you work at a barbershop in Cartersville?”

  “A beauty salon. I’d built up a nice clientele when my dad passed and left me an inheritance. I decided to move here and open the shop. Get to know my nana.”

  “Why a barbershop and not a salon?”

  She laughed. “Men are so much simpler.”

  He made a face. “I think I’m insulted.”

  “Don’t be. Women are complicated and hard to please.”

  “Present company included?”

  She laughed. “Oh, sugar, you have no idea.”

  “Tell me about your family.”

  “What is this, twenty questions?”

  “I want to know everything about you. Were you close to your dad?”

  “I never even met him. He ditched my mama about the time the pregnancy stick turned pink. He probably left me the money out of guilt. Did you know him? Paul Truvy?”

  “I knew who he was, but that’s about it. Are you close to your mom?”

  A wave of sadness made it difficult to maintain her smile. “She passed when I was twelve. My stepdaddy raised me from there.”

  “I’m sorry about your mama but glad you had your stepdad.”

  Josephine brushed an imaginary speck of lint from his shoulder. “Yeah. I’m real lucky.”

  By the end of the song they’d somehow drifted closer together. She felt the warmth of his breath at her temple, felt the imprint of his hand on the small of her back, and a pool of longing settled inside her.

  The band segued into another slow song, somehow stirring up both relief and dismay. Noah confused her as no man ever had. The pull she felt toward him tangled with her need to push him away. She couldn’t make sense of it. Of him.

  And right now, in the circle of his arms, she decided she really didn’t care to. When he set his cheek against the top of her head, she sank into his chest. Her hand went around his shoulder, her head resting against him.

  “You’re a good dancer,” he said in her ear.

  “Right back at you, Romeo.”

  When the song ended the band kicked it up a couple notches with “I Like It, I Love It.” Josephine fought back the disappointment as Noah pulled away. But then he grabbed her hands and began leading her around the dance floor, spinning her until she was dizzy, laughing, and out of breath.

  The rest of the night flew by. By the time he escorted her back to his truck, she was flushed with pleasure. She couldn’t remember enjoying an evening more. But even as Noah put the truck in gear and drove toward her apartment, she readied herself for the brush-off.

  She’d already done the preliminary work. She’d left her apartment messy in case she was tempted to let him up. Her plain-Jane undergarments would put off even the most ardent admirer. But as the night had worn on, he’d somehow managed to slip under her defenses. It was back to reality now. Time to laugh off his advances and wiggle her way out of a second date.

  It didn’t take long to reach the shop. But by the time he pulled up to the curb, her heart was hammering in her chest, and the back of her neck was damp with perspiration.

  Stop it, silly girl. You’ve got this. He’s just a man, like any other.

  Noah put the truck in park, but he made no move to get out—and he left it running.

  Hmm. She smiled at him across the darkened cab. “Thank you, Noah. I had a really nice night.”

  His smile curled even as his eyes searched hers. “Me too.”

  Josephine reached for the door handle.

  He took her other wrist. Here goes. She supposed he was going to make his move out here. She looked back at him expectantly.

  “I’ll get your door,” was all he said.

  He shut off the engine, and she watched as he walked around the front. He was a gentleman, she’d give him that. He’d treated her with nothing but respect tonight. She liked the way he’d guided her through the throngs of people with his hand at the small of her back. He’d fetched her dinner and drinks and had never left her fending for herself.

  Noah opened her door, and she stepped out into the steamy night. The shop entrance was only steps away, but he’d no doubt insist on walking her inside to her apartment door the way the others had. Once there he’d lean in for a kiss. After a few moments he’d deepen it, and his hands would begin to wander, and then he’d ask to come in.

  She could handle this. Her stomach fluttered, and her hands shook as she unlocked the shop door. She hoped he didn’t notice the way she fumbled with the key.

  Once it was unlocked she turned with a polite smile. Her fingers tightened around the keys until they cut into her palm. “Thank you, Noah. I really did have a nice time.”

  “It was fun.” He reached toward her.

  She prepared herself for his touch. Her skin tingled with anticipation, and her pulse raced.

  But his hand went right past her shoulder, settling on the door handle. He opened the door, and a wave of cool air washed over her, pebbling her skin.

  “Good night, Josephine. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  She blinked in surprise, then quickly schooled her features. “Good night, Noah.”

  He gave her one last smile through the glass door as she turned the lock. She wiggled her fingers at him and shut off the entry light.

  Her legs shook as she walked through the shop and up the apartment stairs. A strange fluttery sensation filled her stomach. It was only confusion.

  Noah hadn’t asked to come up. He hadn’t asked for a second date. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her. And a realization hit as the stale apartment air washed over her: for the first time she could remember, a man had left her wanting more.

  Chapter 18

  Sweetbriar Ranch

  Present day

  Josephine opened her eyes. The dark of night had given way to the murky light of dawn. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to see if Noah was still lying behind her. Her chilled flesh gave away his absence. The fire had been stoked, fresh logs added. He must’ve gone to feed the horses.

  She mentally reviewed their middle-of-the-night conversation and wanted to sink back into the oblivion of sleep.

  Maybe it was for the best. Maybe they’d both needed a harsh reminder of what she’d done. This cozy little cottage, incubated from the rest of the world, wasn’t reality. Nothing had changed. Somehow over the past couple days—laughing and sharing, and lying in his arms—hope had gained a foothold. She’d forgotten the truth. That she’d done the unforgiveable. That she was still unworthy of him.

  No man’s ever gonna love a girl like you. You’re only good for one thing.

  She’d only gotten what she deserved. No penance could wash away her sins. Not really. The familiar wave of shame was still there, staining her with guilt. She’d learned to live with it—or thought she had.

  She sat up on the sofa.

  Yes, it was for the best. She’d gotten too comfortable with Noah. Had started sliding back into the ease of their rapport. Allowed herself to forget. He’d always had a way of making her do that.

  Her eyes drifted across the room, settling on the divorce papers. She’d leave here, take them to the attorney’s o
ffice, and some judge would finalize their divorce. Then all this would be over.

  No more Monopoly or Uno. No more teasing or flirting. And absolutely no more cuddling on the couch.

  She was a big fat dope.

  Josephine got up and warmed in front of the fire for a few minutes before she got busy on breakfast. She opened the freezer and pulled out a baggie of sliced peaches someone had gifted him. Probably Mary Beth, now that she thought on it. When the woman wasn’t giving equestrian lessons for Noah she was running her parents’ orchard.

  No matter. The peaches would serve as a subtle reminder for both of them. She used the kettle of hot water Noah had hung over the fire to thaw them.

  While she waited she put on her coat and boots and took out the garbage, making quick work of it. Drifts had piled up alongside the house. The wind was still raging, though the snow had finally stopped.

  Back inside she manually poured hot water through a filter she’d filled with ground coffee. Desperate times and all that. She was warming herself by the fire when Noah returned, Shadow on his heels.

  “Morning,” he said after shutting the door. His cheeks were flushed with cold, and his breath fogged on an exhale.

  “Good morning.” She turned back to the fire. Heat filled her cheeks as she thought about the night before.

  Noah was quiet as he removed his outer gear.

  Shadow nudged her hand with his cold nose, and she scratched him behind his ears. His fur was damp with melted snow. He looked up at her with happy chocolate eyes, his tongue lolling sideways from his mouth.

  Noah disappeared into the cold kitchen, probably making himself a cup of coffee. The sound of dog food hitting Shadow’s dish had the dog darting through the split in the plastic.

  When Noah returned he carried two bowls of steaming peaches.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking hers.

  The recliner creaked as Noah settled into it.

  She ate her breakfast standing in front of the fire, her fork clanking in her bowl. In the kitchen Shadow chomped noisily on his food.

  “That was good,” Noah said after what seemed like an eternity later. “Warmed me right up.”

  “From Mary Beth’s orchard, I presume?”