"I don't want anyone who wants Billie." Just the thought made her stomach roil.
"Noah might be the exception who proves the rule. The one man in a million who can withstand Billie's unrelenting charms." Calder smiled. "Don't wait around to find out, Andi. Give the guy—and yourself—a break."
"Why?" Andi's brain suddenly felt tired. One more riddle was too much to absorb. "Why all the maneuvering and game playing?"
"Because I love you. Bryce and Destry feel the same."
"And I love you. But I wouldn't go to such great lengths to throw a man in your path."
"You would if he was the first one in a long time to make your eyes sparkle just by the mention of his name."
"An exaggeration." She brushed off the idea with a wave of her hand.
Surreptitiously, Andi glanced at her eyes in the mirror. Noah. She felt a now-familiar catch in the region of her heart. But she didn't think the green irises looked any brighter. Did they?
"Even if you can't see the difference, I can."
Calder hugged Andi from behind. Their faces side by side in the mirror made the resemblance easier to see. As sisters with different fathers, DNA made them different. Different hair, different-colored eyes. Yet, the curve of their jaws, the slope of their noses told the world they were Benedicts.
However, what bonded them were the parts no one could see. The love they shared. The absolute devotion. They, plus Bryce and Destry, formed a fortress no one could penetrate or destroy.
"Just as important as love, I like you. You're my friend." Calder's smile, so like Andi's, reflected her bone-deep affection. "I want you to be happy. And, no matter your opinion on the subject, you need more than a job you adore. You need a little fun."
"And Noah equals fun?"
"Could be." Calder chuckled. "He sure looks like a grown-up version of an amusement park. Heck, if he turns out to be a dud, at least you'll know for certain. Better than restless nights wondering. Right?"
Andi didn't ask how Calder knew about the hours she spent tossing and turning as Noah filled her thoughts. Sisters. The connection was amazing, at times, beyond annoying, and the best present their mother ever gave them.
"First thing I should do is find out if Noah's interested."
"Please." Calder rolled her eyes. "You know the way you look at him? His expression the second you enter a room is like a—please pardon the expression—hungry dog with his eyes on a juicy bone."
Andi hated to admit the image Calder painted made her insides go liquid—in the best way possible. By nature, she wasn't the type to melt every time a semi-attractive man passed. Their mother was the expert on melting. However, as far as she was concerned, Noah wasn't just any man. He was special. How, beyond the obvious, she couldn't say. The only way she'd find out was to take a chance.
Oh, boy. Andi's stomach did a slow roll. She recognized a case of nerves when she felt one. Just not in connection with a man. Guess there's a first time for everything.
"You made your point." Andi was a big fan of anyone who persuasively stated their case. "Since Noah isn't about to make the next move, I have to."
"Oh, honey." Calder shook her head. The look in her eyes bordered on pity.
"What?"
"What do you think Noah's done for the last month?"
Confused, Andi shrugged.
"Other than prove he's a first-class handyman? Beats me."
"So smart, yet so clueless." Her sister laughed. "Everything Noah's done has been a move. He put himself in front of you, day after day. Week after week. What more could the poor guy do?"
"Say something?" Andi wasn't a mind reader.
"One month isn't a lot of time in the scheme of things, but quite a chunk in the here and now. Seems to me his actions spoke volumes. You simply weren't ready to listen." Calder cocked her head to the side. "Are you now?"
Andi used a method she often employed when in doubt. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and cleared her mind. Answers had a way of popping into her head when she let everything else—fear, anxiety—drift away.
Calder, familiar with her sister's methods, remained silent and waited. When Andi opened her eyes, Calder saw what she'd hoped to see and grinned.
"Lucky Noah."
Andi laughed. She felt amazingly free. Time to close her eyes and jump.
CHAPTER EIGHT
~~~~
WHAT THE HELL are you doing?
Noah asked himself the question so many times he'd lost count. Either he'd turned into a cock-eyed optimist or the world's biggest fool. From his vantage point on top of the Benedict mansion, he wondered if they might be the same thing.
Standing, he stretched the muscles in his back. One thing was certain, the Benedict sisters were generous bosses. He'd made more in the last month than the previous two combined.
And the food. Noah smiled at the thought as he ran a hand over his flat stomach. If he weren't so active—and religiously hit the gym four times a week—his body would have paid the price for all the calories Mrs. Finch pushed on him.
Not that he put up much of a protest every day when she handed him a bag brimming with goodies. Noah wasn't much of a cook. Microwave dinners and takeout were his usual choice on the nights he didn't go out for burgers and beers with friends. Thanks to the Benedicts' generous cook, he'd upgraded to homemade lasagna, beef stroganoff, and chicken parmesan. If the woman opened a restaurant, the line would reach around two city blocks.
Food and money aside, Noah wondered if he really needed the aggravation. Busy work he could do with one hand tied behind his back, the little repairs were so obviously manufactured they were laughable. Except after all his very brief, very frustrating brushes with Andi, he wasn't in the mood to laugh.
Taking a nail from his pocket, Noah bent to hammer one of a dozen conveniently loosened shingles into place. In spite of himself, he admired the Benedict sisters' creativity. To give him his chore of the day, someone had to climb through the narrow skylight in the attic ceiling. His bet was on Destry. Then, he remembered she was out of town. Calder and Bryce didn't strike him as women afraid to chip their nail polish. Both gamers, he could imagine either doing the deed.
But not Andi. She wasn't behind her home's sudden rash of can't wait repairs. He knew the truth the second she almost tripped over him, and he looked into her surprised green eyes—and every time since for the last freaking month.
Andi was polite. She smiled in a cool, yet vaguely friendly manner. When she nodded, she left the same impression. She didn't care if he came or went. But he cared. Which made him nothing short of a certifiable crazy man.
Noah hammered the last nail in place. He sat on the roof, elbows on his drawn-up knees and stared at the view of Central Park. He didn't belong. Not here. Not anywhere. Before he could walk, he was shuffled through an overcrowded system by overworked people, some who cared, most who didn't. Either way, the social workers didn't have the time to do more than find him a foster home. Then another. And another. And another.
For the most part, Noah was a lucky kid. His foster parents didn't abuse him other than the occasional slap. He was a wild kid, allowed to keep his own hours and monitor his own behavior.
Between the ages of eight and fifteen, Noah ran with a tough crowd. Would-be gangsters, he supposed. Criminals. Hoodlums. And as close to family as he'd known.
With a sigh, Noah ran a hand through his sweat-dampened dark hair. He needed both hands to count the number of young men from his old gang who ended up behind bars or in the morgue.
He found a way out, took his own path. If he hadn't, Noah imagined his story would be very different. Prison or death. For some, the difference was marginal.
Noah took a deep, cleansing breath to counteract the shudder that ran through his body. Free air. He'd come a long way. Nothing, not time or distance, would make him forget.
The memories weren't happy, but they were necessary. Extra motivation to make something of
himself. Because make no mistake. Behind the laid-back demeanor he'd worked for years to perfect, Noah burned with ambition.
Noah smiled, but the emotion didn't reach his eyes. Ambition was no doubt the only thing he and Anderson Benedict had in common. He recognized the trait the moment they met. He understood and sympathized. Even with all her money and the influence of her name, she would only go as far as her talent and drive took her.
The difference between the two of them far outweighed the one thing they shared. Andi grew up in a stable environment. Crazy-ass mother aside, the Benedict mansion, marble floors, and museum-quality art as far as the eye could see aside, was a home. Warmth radiated from every corner.
Noah had no experience with a loving family, but he recognized one when he saw it. Andi and her sisters were a unit. Tight, supportive, and unbreakable. And he was the last man she needed in her life.
Yet, here he was. Every day, the moment one of her sisters beckoned, he came running like an infatuated puppy content with one glimpse of his clueless obsession.
"I have other places to be. Other things to do," Noah reminded himself.
Hell, his schedule was jam packed. To accommodate the Benedicts, he worked around his other jobs. Non-stop from dawn until he dragged himself into his one-room basement apartment. More than once, he couldn't find the energy to toe off his work boots before he collapsed onto his bed, dead to the world.
"Why am I here?" he groaned.
"A question I've asked more than once since we started our little game."
Noah's head whipped around just as Andi shimmied through the attic skylight. He would have held out a helping hand, but, surprise, surprise, the woman managed just fine on her own. He admired her lithe athleticism. However, in his current frame of mind, Andi's self-reliance annoyed the hell out of him.
"I don't play games. And, you shouldn't be up here." Noah could have tempered the surliness in his tone. But he didn't. "Too dangerous."
"I don't play games, either." Andi glanced over the edge. The six-floor drop didn't seem to bother her. "Worried I'll fall?"
The thought made him sick to his stomach, but he hid his worry behind a shrug.
"Be a shame to mess up such a pretty face."
"Not a problem. I have excellent balance."
She took a seat next to him. Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, her hair in a long ponytail, face free of makeup, at that moment, she looked like an average woman he might pass on the street. Noah knew better. There was nothing average about Andi Benedict. He shifted his body as if the fraction of an inch would make a difference. Might as well face the truth. The attraction between them wasn't going anywhere.
"Who said I was worried about you?" Noah scoffed. "If you take a header, who do you think will take the blame?"
"Wow. Kind of a bleak outlook." Andi cleared her throat. "Tell you what. If I fall, on the way down, I'll shout your innocence."
Unimpressed by her meaningless gesture, Noah rolled his eyes.
"Who'll hear you?"
"When I bellow?" She chuckled as if recalling a private joke. "Believe me, half the neighborhood will get the message."
"Why don't I take your word?"
"Well, sure." Andi leaned back on her elbows, her long, bare legs stretched out in front of her. "To test my voracity, I'd have to fall. Or jump. Honestly? Neither scenario thrills me."
Noah didn't want to let her lighten his mood. He was in a funk and wanted to wallow. Yet, a familiar feeling pushed itself from deep in his chest, up, up, until he couldn't help himself. He laughed—right along with her.
"Feel better?" Andi raised a brow.
"I suspected you were a witch. Now I know."
"Because of a little laugh. Please. You give me too much credit."
Noah could have argued. He had a long list of ways Andi used her witchy charms. The way her smile made his mouth go dry. How she'd invaded his waking thoughts until she was a permanent fixture. And don't get him started on the havoc she played with his dreams.
Even her scent—Noah breathed in. Subtle and indescribably unique. How was a mortal man supposed to resist?
"What do you want, Anderson?"
"To start? For you to stop calling me by that ridiculous name."
"Suits you."
"So you said before." Andi closed her eyes, raising her face toward the sun. "According to Billie, she gave me the Benedict last name to punish my father for his infidelity. So, why turn around and call me Anderson?"
"Kind of defeats the purpose."
"Exactly. My mother is the definition of contrary. Naturally, she doesn't agree. In her eyes, she's a beacon of feminism." Andi lifted one eyelid. "You asked me what I wanted. Why did Billie slide into the conversation?"
"Beats me." As much as Noah appreciated a small insight into Andi's world, the last person on his mind—now, or ever—was Billie Benedict. "Quick. Change the subject."
"Okay. Kiss me."
"Not the subject I expected." To say the least.
"But a good one. Yes?" Andi leaned closer. Her tongue ran along her lower lip, slowly. Deliberately. She meant to catch his attention, and she succeeded. "You kissed me once. Why not again?"
Noah wasn't about to fall into her trap. She wanted to place responsibility on him? Whatever happened, or didn't, was his call to make? Nope. Not this time.
"What happened to Anderson Benedict, modern woman?" he taunted. "You want a kiss? I won't say no. But the next move is yours."
Mere seconds ticked by as Andi's intrigued gaze moved to Noah's mouth. However, the wait seemed interminable. She wasn't in a hurry. Did she want to torture him with the promise of paradise then not deliver? All talk and no action?
"I've kissed a man or two," she whispered, drawing closer. "Took the initiative, so to speak."
Noah didn't want to hear about Andi's other men. Even in theory. But, he understood her purpose was to heighten the moment. So, he followed her lead, certain the endgame would be worth the wait.
"Then you should know what to do."
"You'd think so." Molten flecks of gold danced in the impossibly green depths of her eyes. She hadn't touched him yet the heat between them was almost too much to bear. "What if our first kiss was an aberration? I've thought so much about the feel of your mouth on mine. Should we keep the memory pure? Or take a chance?"
God, she was killing him. A slow, agonizing, beautiful death. He'd go willingly. But only if she came along for the ride.
"You tasted like… spiced honey." Laden with need, Noah's voice sounded odd to his ears. "The hell with what if. I want more, Anderson. Give me more."
The warmth of her breath, almost a gasp, brushed his lips just before her mouth covered his. Andi wasn't hesitant. She knew what to do. Noah sank into the kiss and said a prayer of thanks for a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it.
Right now, Andi wanted him. He was right with her. Need struck him like a blow from behind. Hard, fast, and though not entirely unexpected, impossible to defend against.
"What do you know?" Andi, the green of her eyes like the brightest, rarest emeralds, blinked as she ended the kiss. "The second time was even better than the first."
Noah didn't want to stop. His instincts bellowed to push for more. He could have Andi naked, on her back, him between her legs in seconds. Lord knew his prior lovers wouldn't have objected to his impatience. The women in his past were interested in the same thing as he. Quite bluntly, an easy, quick, and satisfying fuck. No foreplay or emotions required.
Any kind of sex with Andi would be satisfying. But for once, Noah didn't want quick and easy. She deserved more. And, just maybe, he did too.
Smiling with a tenderness new and a little frightening, Noah cupped her cheek.
"And they say third time's lucky." His thumb traced the line of Andi's bottom lip. "Want to find out?"
"Yes." She sounded as eager as he felt. "But what if number three exceeds number two? Do we
stop? Or press our luck?"
Noah laughed. Another first. He could talk a woman into bed with a few well-chosen lines. However, once ready and willing, his extensive vocabulary deteriorated into caveman-caveman speak. Grunts and groans. Huffs and puffs.
After, wasn't much better. Thanks, babe topped his list of witty post-coital repartee. If they were at his place, he made certain she safely found her way home. Otherwise, he rolled to his feet and left without a backward glance or a twinge of regret.
As he looked into Andi's impossibly green eyes, he was struck by a fact he already knew. She wasn't the wham, bam, thank you, ma'am kind of woman. Their first kiss was an aberration. The second a test. A third kiss would inevitably lead to a fourth. And more.
Old Noah wouldn't hesitate. He'd take Andi on the roof of her family home without a second thought. When he'd evolved into a new and improved version of himself, he couldn't say. But facts were facts. Whether fast, slow, or something in between, when he and Andi had sex, he wouldn't be able to walk away with the casual ease of his past.
"Kiss number three will take more time. Time I don't have." Reluctantly, Noah rolled to his feet. He took Andi's hand and brought her with him. "I'm due downtown."
"Another job?"
Noah nodded.
"You work too hard." Her eyes filled with concern, she ran her finger over his bristly chin. "Why do you push yourself to the limit?"
"Because no one's about to give me a hand up to where I want to go." A hard, determined edge he recognized well entered Noah's voice.
"Where are you going?" she asked, genuinely interested.
"To the top."
Noah spoke with complete conviction. He never doubted himself. The steps along the way were steep, sometimes daunting, and occasionally treacherous. But he tackled them every day. And he would continue until his journey was complete. What the view would look like when he got there, he couldn't say. But he knew the air would smell sweet.
"I understand ambition."
"Yes, you do." Noah helped Andi through the skylight, hopping down into the attic after her. "However—"
Three Wishes: A Second Chance at Love Contemporary Romance (The Sisters Quartet Book 3) Page 8