“Wanted to? Or are you actually going to?”
He smirked. “I’m going to. I am, if you’ll let me speak.”
I narrowed my eyes, tucking my phone in my purse and crossing my arms before leaning on one hip to wait.
Noah bit his lip against a bigger smile, glancing at our shoes before he met my gaze again. “I’m sorry for nearly knocking you over, and for taking out my anger on you. I shouldn’t have said those things I said.”
“You’re damn straight, you shouldn’t have.”
“I know. It was uncalled for. I also know it doesn’t make up for anything, to feed you an excuse, but…” He sniffed, glancing around us as if to make sure no one was close enough to hear before he spoke again. “It was the anniversary of my dad’s death, and that’s always a really tough day for me. Even nine years later.”
My cocky glare slipped from my face, heart aching in my chest as Noah softened like butter in the warm summer sun.
There he is again, I thought. There’s the man from last Friday night.
“Anyway, I want to make it up to you,” he said, grabbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Just tell me how.”
I chewed my lip, watching him as if I was looking for anything other than sincerity in his steel gaze. When I found nothing, I smirked, standing straight as I uncrossed my arms. “Fine. You can make it up to me by meeting me somewhere in a couple hours. Bring your swim trunks.”
He cocked a brow. “Swim trunks? Where exactly am I meeting you?”
I smiled wider. “I’ll text you the address. Be there at two, sharp.”
Noah checked his watch, nodding with an amused smile before he tucked his hands into his pockets. “Alright, then.”
“Alright,” I repeated.
We watched each other for a long moment, until someone clearing their throat brought our attention to my left.
“Ruby Grace,” Mama said, smiling at Noah before she eyed me cautiously. “Why don’t you hop in, now. We better get going.”
“Yes, Mama,” I said before turning back to Noah. “See you around.”
“See you,” he said, catching on to the fact that I didn’t say see you in a couple of hours.
Some things Mama didn’t need to know.
She smiled politely at Noah, wishing him a blessed day, but her smile faded when he turned to walk back toward the church. She eyed him until he was around the corner of the building before sliding into the driver seat next to me.
“What were you talking to Noah Becker about?” she probed.
I shrugged, pulling out my phone to text Anthony. “Nothing. Just the barrel for Anthony. He wanted to know which one I’d decided on.”
“Oh,” Mama said, a mix of doubt and relief in her voice.
I thought she’d say more, but she just put the car into reverse, backing out of the parking spot as I let my gaze float out the window.
Ruby Grace
“No, no, no,” Betty said, shaking her head — which was quite comical, considering her long, silver hair was wrapped up in a hot pink swim cap. “You’ve got to really get your hips into it. Channel Mr. Swayze, son.”
I covered my smile with one hand, and Noah cocked a brow at me as if to say are you enjoying yourself before he grinned at Betty. That grin was deadly on any occasion, but when he was shirtless and slick, the pool cutting him off right at the hem of his board shorts, it was absolutely lethal. His arms were a little more tan than his abdomen, but the way his skin was already bronzing, I knew it wouldn’t take much time outside for him to even the lines.
My eyes slipped to the ridges of abs that lined his stomach, smaller at the top and growing larger toward the bottom.
I wondered what those ridges felt like.
“Yes, ma’am,” Noah said, hanging his hands on his hips as he caught his breath. “I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re so much better at this than I am.”
She waved him off. “Years of practice. Don’t worry, you’ll catch on. Now, let’s get through this. Lord knows we’re going to need more time to work on the lift.”
Betty winked at Noah then, and I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me. He eyed me again, fighting against a smile of his own as Betty sidled up beside him once more. Noah took her hands in his, listening carefully as she walked him through the dance at the end of Dirty Dancing for about the seventh time.
It was a hot afternoon — a warning that summer was here to stay. I relished it, leaning back on my hands and angling my face toward the sun as I swung my feet in the pool. Summer was Betty’s favorite time of year for this exact reason — pool days. The other residents generally skipped out, or if they did come outside, they’d stay under the umbrellas and watch the pool rather than get in it.
But not Betty.
She moved best when she was in the pool, like she hadn’t had a hip replacement a few years before, and like her body wasn’t failing her just as quickly as her mind. In the pool, she was free to move, to dance, to laugh.
And she did all three that afternoon.
She was having a good day — a day when she remembered everything, when she wasn’t too tired to leave the bed, when she was the same, sassy old woman I’d met when I was fourteen. I’d been spoiled by her good days, lately, and I was thankful. Annie said it was the most she’d had in a row since Christmas.
She also said it was because I was back in town.
I couldn’t know that for sure, but I took whatever time I could to be there with her — just in case.
I watched from the sidelines as Betty schooled Noah on the final dance scene from the classic movie — and one of her favorites. Noah, bless his heart, took it in stride. He held her hands, spun her gently, even went under water completely to give Betty some sort of “lift” that made her feel like Jennifer Grey.
That was when her smile was the largest — her eyes closed, face cast upward, arms out in the same iconic flight stance that the actress had done.
If I wasn’t laughing so hard, I might have cried at the sentiment.
After a dozen more run throughs, Betty called for a break, and the two of them swam up to the side of the pool where I sat. Betty took the lemonade I offered her, sipping and hollering across the pool at Mr. Buchanan — who was seated under the umbrellas. Noah rested his arms on the concrete edge, crossing them and resting his head on his forearm before he peered up at me through lashes still dripping with water.
His eyes were an endless blue, the light from the pool reflecting off them like a tropical dream.
“Enjoying your entertainment this afternoon, Miss. Barnett?”
I bit my lip against a smile. “Very much so, Mr. Becker. I never knew you were such a great dancer.”
“Oh, you should see me on the actual dance floor. I can two step and waltz and cha cha with the best of them. And don’t even get me started on what happens when ‘Watermelon Crawl’ comes on.”
“I’m sure it’s quite entertaining,” I mused, still dangling my feet in the cool water.
“When do I get to see your dance moves?”
I barked out a laugh at that. “Um, that would be approximately… never.”
“Never?” he asked, popping his head up off his arms with a look of injustice. “But you’ve seen all my moves, now. I show you mine, you show me yours. Isn’t that the deal?”
“I never agreed to that.”
He narrowed his eyes, running his forefinger and thumb over the stubble on his chin before he nodded. “I see…” Then, a wicked gleam came over those blue steel eyes, and before I could so much as scream, his hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging forward until I was off the ledge and under water.
I popped up instantly, not even able to open my eyes against the chlorine yet before I was swinging at him. “Noah!”
He laughed, catching my advances easily and pulling me into him. I blinked several times, shaking the drops from my eyes before I glared up at him.
“You jerk. Mama’s going to kill me for ruining my hair.”
“Mama will live,” he said, and then one arm wrapped around my waist, the other taking my hand in a leading position. “Now, let’s dance, little lady.”
With one pull of my hand and push of my hip, I spun away from him, reeling back in like a yo-yo and falling in line with his steps before I realized what was happening. Surprise ripped through me, brows shooting up to my hairline as he somehow managed to smoothly twirl me around that metaphorical dance floor even with water hitting us waist deep. My feet felt sluggish, the moves slower than if we were in boots on a hardwood floor, but somehow, that made it even more fun.
I laughed and laughed as he danced me around — until he had the bright idea to flip me like a swing dancer. I emerged from the water beating on his chest again, which just made him laugh harder. And when we were breathless, Noah tugged me to the side of the pool again.
“Thank you for the dance,” he said, both of us still breathing heavily as he wrapped his strong, rugged hands around my waist. For a moment, he just held them there, the rough pad of his thumbs smoothing over my exposed hip bones. My smile fell, chest still heaving as my eyes slipped to his lips.
I didn’t know why I looked at them.
I didn’t know why I couldn’t look away.
Noah swallowed, tightening his grip on my hips before he lowered in the water a little and helped push me back up onto the edge of the pool where I’d been seated before. Once I was steady, he released his hold on me, backing away with a distant look in his eyes that I couldn’t decipher before he tore them from me and looked at Betty, instead.
“Now, how come you don’t move with me like that?” Betty teased, hanging her hands on her hips.
“I did!” he defended. “You just out-dance me. Hard to realize how great I am when you’re out there showing me up.”
Betty smirked, taking a sip of her lemonade before she leaned against the edge. “I knew your father, you know?”
Those words sucked the air out of my lungs, and judging by the way Noah’s smile slipped off his face, they did the same to him. He glanced up at me, a question in his eyes, but I just shook my head slightly.
I hadn’t told her anything about him, not before we got here. And all I’d said was, “Betty, this is Noah.”
I shrugged, an apology in my eyes as Noah cleared his throat, turning to Betty once more. “My father?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, nodding with a knowing smile. “You’re Noah Becker. I’d know those eyes and that mischievous grin anywhere.”
At that, my mouth popped open, and Noah stilled completely.
“Your father took a liking to my Leroy,” she explained, her eyes growing misty as she watched the water from the pool lap the sides. “And my Leroy sure did appreciate having a friend, especially there toward the end.”
I swallowed. “Leroy was Betty’s husband,” I explained. “He passed away about twenty years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Noah said in a hushed voice, and the confusion in his eyes shifted to sympathy as he put a hand on Betty’s shoulder.
“It was a hard time,” she said. “But, honestly, it’s him I feel sorry for. Poor bastard has been waiting at Heaven’s gates for me all this time. He had to know I’d take a while, but I’m sure if he could, he’d holler down at me just like he used to holler up the stairs.” She chuckled, brows folding together as she did her best impression. “Woman, get your cute behind down here. Ain’t no makeup or hair curlers gonna make you look any more beautiful than you already are.”
My heart swelled, and Noah smirked up at me before he dropped his hand from Betty’s shoulder. “He sounds like quite the guy.”
“He was,” she agreed. “But, then again, so was your father. It seems we lose all the best ones too young.”
Noah sobered at that, nodding just once. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Your father would come see us every Good Friday,” Betty explained, which was the nickname the distillery had given to the last Friday of every month, when they would give each of their employees a free bottle of whiskey with their paycheck. “Every single one for about four years, right up until the time the good Lord took my Leroy. They had met down at Buck’s one night, and I don’t know what transpired there, but boy, did those two take a liking to each other.” She smiled. “So, every Good Friday, your father would come by with his bottle of Scooter Whiskey and a bag full of fried chicken. We’d all sit out on the porch and eat and drink and laugh until it was way too late for two old folks to be up. Sometimes your mom would join, sometimes not. But John? Well… Johnny was always there.”
Noah swallowed, looking down at the water for a long moment before he met her gaze once more. “Sounds like a wonderful friendship.”
“It was,” she agreed. “And your father, he was a good man. When I met you today, I almost swore a ghost had come back to life. You look just like him, you know?” She beamed. “Same eyes, same hair, same Becker Trouble Grin.”
She pinched his cheek at that, and Noah smirked.
“You’ve got his spirit,” she said, her voice softer now as she watched Noah. “You’re a good man, too, Noah Becker. And I’m glad I got to spend the afternoon with you.”
I watched what I would have sworn was Noah’s bottom lip trembling, but as soon as I thought I’d seen it shake, it was steady again. He smiled through whatever he was feeling — and I knew he was feeling something — as he reached forward to pull Betty in for a soft hug.
“Me, too, Miss Betty. Even if you did show me up on the dance floor.”
She chuckled, her little shoulders shaking in his broad arms.
When he pulled back, he cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get a shower and dry off. I’ve got this thing I’ve got to get to.”
“What thing?” I probed.
He grabbed the back of his neck. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. Me and my brothers try to get together every weekend to play cards. I usually host, and they’ll be heading over in about an hour.” He shrugged, giving me a soft smile, though he still seemed caught up in his thoughts. “Someone’s gotta order the pizza.”
I nodded, but my stomach sank at the realization that the day was nearly over. Noah would go hang out with his brothers, and I’d go home…
To wedding planning.
And Mama.
And all the stress I’d forgotten about over the last few hours.
I chewed my lip, eyes bouncing back and forth between Noah’s before I swallowed. “I like cards…”
He blinked, the tiniest smirk climbing at the corner of his lips. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “I used to play blackjack and Texas hold ‘em with my dad and his friends sometimes. Just for fun, but… yeah.”
Noah smiled wider. “You want to come over? We could use some fresh blood at the table.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, a little too quickly. “I don’t want to impose.”
Please say yes.
He shook his head. “We’d love to have you. I’m just going to go change and we can head out, grab the pizza and beer on our way. Meet you out front?”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
Noah placed his palms flat on the edge next to me, lifting his body out easily and saying one last goodbye to Betty before he made his way inside. Betty and I both watched him go, the water spilling down his back like water falling over the strongest side of a mountain, carved carefully over thousands of years.
When he disappeared through the doors, I turned back to Betty, and she was smirking at me.
“What?” I asked.
Betty’s smile climbed higher. “You sly devil. You didn’t tell me you were engaged to a Becker.”
The color drained from my face.
“You lied about him not being as handsome as Richard Gere, my dear,” she said, wagging her finger at me. “But, hell, I suppose I would have done the same. If that boy was mine, I wouldn’t want a single other woman coming onto him.”
“Betty…”
/> “I like him,” she said, not letting me interrupt. “He’s a good man, from a good family. He’ll treat you right, Ruby Grace.” She smiled wider, squeezing my knee where it hung off the edge. “You did good, my girl.”
My cheeks burned, because somewhere under my haste to tell her she had the wrong guy, I felt something else, something stronger.
Longing, I realized distantly.
And then I stamped it down in the same breath.
“Noah’s not my fiancé,” I explained with a gentle smile. “We’re just friends.”
Betty frowned. “Friends?”
I nodded, but Betty’s eyes drifted over my shoulder. When I followed her gaze, I saw Noah through the pool fence waiting for me in the parking lot, his hands shoved in his pockets, back leaned against his old, beat-up truck. I felt Betty watching me, but I couldn’t hide the blush on my cheeks, the bob of my throat as I swallowed.
A few feet from the pool, my phone vibrated on my towel, screen lighting up with Anthony’s name — with the picture of us that I loved so much.
Betty eyed it with me, and when I turned back to her, she just lifted one silver eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
Noah
Dad was still on my mind as I watched Ruby Grace hustle my brothers in poker that night.
We were all gathered around my folding table in the middle of my modest home, Sturgill Simpson on the stereo, two half-eaten boxes of pizza propped open on the kitchen counter behind us. My house was the one most “in town” between me and my brothers, just a few blocks off the Main Street drag on the south side. Jordan’s house was ten minutes out of town, to the west, and Logan’s was northeast, a little farther out than Mom’s.
I still couldn’t be sure if we’d meant to surround Mom’s house the way we did, flanking her on all sides, or if we’d done it subconsciously. Either way, none of us were more than twenty minutes from each other, and we were all less than ten from Mom’s.
My house was the closest to beer and pizza, however, which meant it was the prime choice for poker night.
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