Husband Under Construction (17 page)

“This is definitely much easier with two people,” Noah said, the recalcitrant lights yielding far more quickly with four hands prying them apart.

“Most things are,” she said.

His eyes cut to hers, then away. “Dad put me in charge of the business.”

“Really?” He nodded. “Temporarily, or…?”

“He said from now on, but who knows?” That strand set to rights, Noah carefully laid it on the porch and dumped the next one out of its box. “Except I can tell he had…reservations. That if he hadn't had that heart attack he never would have handed over the reins, unless…” He yanked too hard on the strand. “Unless I'd met his conditions.”

“The same ones from before?”

“I imagine so. And you know what?” he said on a frosted breath. “It sucks that I'm nearly thirty and still feel like I have to fight for my father's approval. That no matter what,
I still come up short in his eyes. Why the hell should it even matter?”

Okay, so maybe not
that
patient. Not that she didn't understand that, too. The closer the relationship, the more tangled it was likely to be. Like the lights.

“It matters because you love him,” she said gently, even as her stomach sank, remembering what Gene had asked of her the day before. “Everybody wants their parents to be proud of them.” His only reply was a grunt. “What are you going to do?”

“Work my butt off. Make sure I don't give him any reason to regret his decision. And maybe…” His eyes swung to hers, and electricity shot through her.

“What?”

He gave her a long, hard look that sent another hundred megawatts or so crackling along her skin. But instead of finishing his thought, he handed her the strand of lights. “Hang on to this while I get the ladder?”

He'd barely gotten ten feet before she blurted out, “I got a job offer.”

And when he whipped around, she saw in his eyes exactly what she'd suspected he'd stopped himself from saying.

Not funny, God,
she thought.
Not funny at all.

“W
here?” Noah said, the only word he could squeeze past the knot in his throat.

“Austin.”

“How…?”

“It was really weird, actually,” Rox said, with a short, nervous laugh. “Out of the blue, my former college roommate—we lost track of each other years ago—friended me on Facebook. Turns out she's a designer now, in Austin. Which is her hometown. Anyway, long story short, we started texting, then she called me…and it turns out she also owns this funky little furniture and collectibles store, and she's looking for someone knowledgeable to take over the merchandising because she's about to have a baby. So when she found out I was looking for a job—”

“She said it was yours.”

“On the spot. With the possibility of becoming a partner some day. I even get to go on shopping trips all over the world, can you imagine?”

Although she was obviously trying to soft-pedal the news, there was no keeping the excitement out of her voice. Or her eyes. “When did this happen?”

“Actually, we've been on the phone all morning, ironing out the particulars.” Her nose was turning red; she scrounged a tissue out of her pocket and wiped it. “I said I needed to give Naomi two weeks' notice.”

Noah slowly lowered himself onto the cold porch steps, reminding himself they'd firmly established they didn't want the same things, that a relationship between them would have never worked. Not to mention he'd known all along she wasn't going to stick around.

Reasonable arguments, every one. And yet…

After a long pause, Roxie came and sat beside him, linking her arm through his. “This wasn't supposed to happen,” she whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder. Which, because logic was clearly not his friend right now, felt inexplicably right.

“This?”

“Us.”

Noah covered her hand with his. Swallowed hard. “The funny thing is, before you announced you'd found that job, I'd almost said—”

“That we should give it a shot? See where it goes?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out.

“To make your father happy?”

He craned his neck to look at her. “You actually think I'd hook up with somebody just to please Dad?” She shrugged against his arm. “Honey, he's been on my case about this for years. Believe me, if all I'd wanted to do was shut him up I could've gotten hitched long ago.”

“Why is that not making me feel better?” she said, and he chuckled.

“Only telling it like it is. But…even as I considered
asking if you were game, I knew it wasn't fair to you. Or right.” He rubbed her arm for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “The thing is…it really does feel different. With you, I mean. I actually
like
you. I like being
with
you, talking to you. And I don't doubt for a minute we'd have a lot of fun in bed. Still and all, whenever I think of the next step…I choke.”

“It's okay—”

“Dammit, Rox—would you stop being so reasonable? It's not okay, it's messed up, is what it is.”

“Except, it would have never worked anyway, right? I'm leaving in two weeks, you've g-got obligations here…”
Ah, hell,
he thought as she said, in a small, mad voice, “I
knew
it was stupid to let myself fall for you. Knew we'd never see eye-to-eye on certain major issues. And for damn sure I wasn't about to go through that again, not after Jeff. But it was like…knocking a glass off the counter, when you all you can do is stand there and watch it fall, knowing it's going to crash into a million pieces.”

Tell me about it,
Noah thought, his heart fisting in his chest. Then he slung his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him again, rubbing his cheek in her hair. “I'm so sorry, honey.”

“For what? Being who you are?” She paused, skimming one fingertip over a varnish stain on the knee of his jeans. “I was
so
sure, as long as I didn't sleep with you I'd stay in control.” She made a
pfft
sound through her lips, then sighed. “But that's not
your
fault. I still could've been more careful with the glass, made sure not to leave it on the edge. And I didn't.”

“Because you're still not over Mac?”

“No!” Roxie lifted her head to look at him, her gaze steady despite the crease between her brows. Then her mouth scrunched on one side. “Okay, to be honest, you do
remind me of him in some ways. Or did, before I got to know you. But when I moved on from Jeff I apparently left Mac behind as well.” She nestled her head on his shoulder again. “Believe me, buddy, whatever I feel for you, I feel for
you.
Not as a memory or a placeholder, but as somebody I think is amazing in his own right.”

He snorted. “Amazing?”

Her soft laugh vibrated against his shoulder before she looked at him again. “It's true. Screwed up though this may be, at least I've got that part straight in my head. I'm not confusing you with anybody else. Cross my heart.”

That makes one of us,
Noah thought with a twist to his gut. “So…what do you want to do now?”

Roxie pushed herself to her feet, backing into the yard to look up at the porch. “Finish decorating this house, for starters.”

“That's not what I'm talking about.”

Her troubled gaze fell to his. “I suppose, by rights, we should call it quits now.”

Noah stood as well. “Because pretending each other doesn't exist in a town the size of a peanut is going to work so well?”

“I hate this,” she muttered, and he pulled her into his arms again.

“We could just play it by ear, you know,” he said into her hair.

“Except—”

“Clothes will stay on. Promise.”

She leaned back, frowning. “You sure you're okay with that?”

“Strangely enough, yeah.” His heart hammering in his chest as he thought,
Dude, who
are
you?
“Because, you know that bonding thing? I'm thinking, in this case, you wouldn't be the only one with a problem if we fooled around.”

“He said, gritting his teeth—”

“I'm serious, Rox.” His hands moved to her shoulders so he could look her in the eyes. “Unless one or the other of us changes our mind about what we want, long term. And somehow I'm not seeing that happen. So,” he said, releasing her, “we better get our rears in gear if we have any hope of getting this done before Dad gets home tomorrow.”

Then he turned to drag the first of many reindeers and bears and such out of their oft-taped boxes, silently chewing out fate's ass.

 

“What are they doing now?” Charley asked Eden, who, her stew on the stove, apparently had nothing better to do than stand at the window holding her little dog and watching the goings-on across the street. And report to Charley.

“Hard to tell from here—if I'd known, I would've brought my opera glasses—but after he hugged her, they talked some more and now they've gone back to decorating the house. No kissing, though. So kinda inconclusive.”

Charley pushed himself out of the nice, comfy chair and joined her at the window, exchanging distrustful glances with the dog. “You think she told him?”

Eden turned her head, making the wide-neck black sweater she was wearing slide off one shoulder, exposing a bright red bra strap. “While I'm far from deaf,” she said, tugging it back up, “I don't have supersonic hearing. Nor am I clairvoyant.”

“Oh, I don't know about that,” Charley said, thinking about that shoulder. And where it led. “You always seem to guess right when I'm about to…you know.”

Eden rolled her eyes and looked back out the window, only to smile when Charley bumped his hip into hers, not even caring when the dog growled at him. “Looks like
they're gonna be a while,” he said, giving her moony eyes. “Wanna mess around?”

“Actually, I think we should follow their example and do some decorating ourselves.” She set down the dog, who gave her a dirty look before mincing over to plop in her leopard print bed by the fireplace. “Give the place some holiday cheer.”

“I'd much rather you give
me
some holiday cheer.”

“You got your holiday cheer this morning, you can wait a few hours for the next dose. So whatcha got? In the way of decorations, I mean?”

Charley pushed out a loud, pity-me sigh and started for the garage, marginally cheered when, chuckling, Eden grabbed his hand and pulled him back around to give him a compensatory kiss, and he suddenly felt so happy it nearly made him dizzy.

Then he glanced out the window one last time at his mixed-up niece, so determined to get what she wanted she couldn't see it was smack dab in front of her face. “I know it's not up to me to fix her, but it seems so…unfair.”

“She's a smart girl. She'll figure it out,” Eden said.

But the question was, he wondered as Donna's old Jeep Cherokee pulled into the driveway, would Noah?

 

His mother got out of her beat-up Explorer, a big, goofy smile stretching across her face as she took in what they were doing. “I can't believe you even thought about this.”

“Day after Thanksgiving means leftovers and decorating,” Noah said. “Wouldn't seem right otherwise. Besides, I thought it would cheer Dad up.”

“Or tick him off that he didn't get to do it himself,” Donna muttered, then sighed. “To be honest, I'd totally forgotten until I overhead one of the nurses talking about
setting up her tree.” Then she noticed Roxie. “And how on earth did
you
get dragged into this?”

“Believe it or not, I volunteered,” she said, and his mother shot him a look that plainly said,
Good Lord, she's as crazy as we are.
“How's Gene doing?”

His mother did a
you don't want to know
hand waggle, then tromped around to the back of the car and opened the hatch, the sun flashing off the silver clasp thing holding up most of her hair. “He's coming home tomorrow. If they don't kick the big pain in the patoot out sooner.” Except it was perfectly obvious how scared she'd been of losing that pain in the patoot. Peering into the car, she shook her head. “Since I was in Santa Fe, anyway, I figured I may as well pick up a few things at Sam's Club. Big mistake.”

Aside from the normal supplies—toilet paper and paper towels and eighteen packs of tomato and chicken noodle soup—everything else was for his father. Plaid shirts and a new pair of slippers. Hardback novels by two of his favorite writers. A treadmill. And—

“You can't be serious?” Noah hauled the boxed inflatable—an eight-foot-tall snow globe sheltering a trio of caroling polar bears—out of the depths of the truck. Behind him, Roxie giggled. “And you can just hush,” he said, and she giggled harder, which only made Noah more morose, thinking about how much he was going to miss making her laugh.

“So you're not the only one who wants to cheer him up,” Mom said. “And anyway, when you love somebody you give them what makes them happy.” She made a face at the inflatable's box. “Even when it hurts.” Then she looked at Roxie and smiled, and Noah heard the Gong of Doom go off in his head. “Honey, why don't you come inside and help me make up a couple of turkey sandwiches?”

 

“I'll never understand,” Donna said, shoving up her sweater sleeves as she regarded the inside of her refrigerator, “how I can feed so many people at Thanksgiving and still have this many leftovers. There's ham, too, if you like. And I suspect—” she hefted the turkey carcass to the counter “—you're well aware I don't need help to make a few sandwiches.”

“Yeah,” Roxie said, sitting at the kitchen table, “I kinda figured you had that down by now. So what's up?”

One eyebrow lifted. “Why don't you tell me?”

“Is this you being mama bear looking out for her cub?”

Donna laughed. “As if I could. And anyway, the cub is plenty able to look out for himself. Has been for some time. Which I've been told in no uncertain terms. However, after raising a whole slew of cubs, Mama Bear is extremely observant. And nosy.” Peeling back the foil, she cut her eyes to Roxie. “I've never seen him act around any other gal the way he does around you. You ask me, he's got it bad.”

Heat flooding her face, Roxie lowered her eyes, worrying a little silver ring on her pinkie her mother had given her when she turned sixteen. “I accepted a job in Austin. This morning. I start in a couple of weeks.”

“Oooh.” Donna's brow crinkled. “I see. Does Noah know?”

“Yeah. I just told him,” she said, adding, because she'd only promised Gene she wouldn't say anything to
Noah,
“did his dad tell you why he wanted me to come to the hospital?”

“No, as a matter of fact.” Donna hauled a carving knife out of a block in front of her and start shaving off slices of white meat, then glanced in Roxie's direction. “I'm not gonna like this, am I?”

“Probably not. He did everything but promise me a dowry if Noah and I got together.”

“Oh, Lord, that man,” Donna sighed out. The knife set down, she turned, her arms crossed under her breasts. “Although with you going to Austin, I suppose the point is moot, anyway.”

“Heh,” Roxie said, thinking,
So this is hell. Colder than I expected, but whatever.

“Oh, honey…love really sucks sometimes, doesn't it?”

Figuring there was no point in denying it, Roxie got up and snatched a piece of cut turkey, cramming it into her mouth. It wasn't chocolate, but sometimes you can only work with what you're given. “I feel like I've been ambushed,” she muttered, chewing.

“That's pretty much the way it goes,” Donna said, handing her another piece of turkey.

“It's so unfair.” With great difficulty, Roxie swallowed the dry turkey mush in her mouth. “Noah was supposed to be the same Good Time Joe he was in high school. In fact, you have no idea how much I counted on that. He wasn't supposed to have…grown up.”