Now a Major Motion Picture (18 page)

Back at his place, he hung their jackets in the entry closet and trailed Erin into the living room, where she settled onto the sofa.

“Want a beer?”

“Sure,” she said. She flipped on the TV and surfed up to the music channels. She stopped on a Jack Johnson song—”Sitting, Waiting, Wishing.” He had a feeling, at that point, where the night was headed.

Noah grabbed two beers from the fridge, popped the bottles open, and dropped down beside her on the couch. He slid an arm across her shoulders and pulled her against him, and they sat there for a long time, talking and nursing their drinks.

Distracted after a while by her hand, which was tracing a light path up and down his arm, he lost his train of thought and trailed off, studying her face. His eyes grazed the line of her cheekbones, the pale freckles that crossed the bridge of her nose, the attractive imperfection of her mouth, its upper lip just slightly fuller than the lower. She completed a similar assessment before her green eyes settled on his.

He took the drink from her hand and leaned forward to set both bottles on the table in front of them. As he turned slowly to face her, she reached for him and pulled him in close. Their lips met with an intensity that was all new.

Back in the present, he moaned, his hand traveling the length of Erin’s spine. She shivered and pressed her fingers into the back of his neck. Forgetting for a moment where he was, he took a step backward and leaned into the guest room wall, pulling her against him.

Again his mind shifted to the night at the condo. Things had heated up quickly, hands moving, heartbeats racing, clothes shifting. There’d been no question in his mind what would happen next.

But then things stopped as quickly as they’d started.

Erin pulled away, her breathing ragged, an apology in her eyes.

“Wait…I’m sorry. Wait.” She looked down and then up again, her expression sheepish. “This is too fast. I—” Her voice trailed off, her eyes lowered again.

He was mortified. He’d assumed…

“I am so sorry.” He cradled her in his arms. “I didn’t mean to rush you.” When her silence had stretched a few seconds too long, he tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “We can take all the time you want. I’m not
that
guy,” he teased her with the same words she’d used in the park, just after they’d met.

Over time, Erin learned he really wasn’t that guy. The gentleman thing was ingrained in his nature. That night, though, she stared into his eyes for a long time, making some sort of assessment. He wasn’t sure what she saw there. All he could think about was how weird it was to see Erin in this light—unsure of herself, vulnerable.

“This might sound crazy,” she said, “but sex is what ruined my last relationship.”

She gave him a pleading look. He listened with what he hoped was an understanding expression, but his thoughts had taken off in a wild sprint.
No, it doesn’t sound crazy. Sex ruined my last relationship, too.

It turned out, she hadn’t been with anybody since her ex-fiancé. She’d jumped head-first into that relationship, and it had moved fast, physically and otherwise. Before she knew it, he’d given her a ring and she’d said yes—and then a few months before the wedding, she learned he’d been cheating on her with his
ex-girlfriend. Maybe even others, she wasn’t sure. At any rate, it had scarred her. She’d been a lot more careful with relationships since then, and she hadn’t dated anybody very long.

In that sense, she and Noah were a well-matched pair. They’d stopped that night, and now, nine months later, they still hadn’t had sex. They’d done everything else, but Noah had been afraid to push her again, and she hadn’t taken the initiative herself. It was hard to explore boundaries when the lines were all invisible, Noah thought.

And now things were all steamed up again, and again destined to end before they started. As his moved his mouth over hers, Melanie’s muffled voice rang up from the center of the stairwell.

“Kids? Dinner’s ready.”

Erin jumped back like she’d been burned, and a high-pitched giggle escaped her lips. Noah grinned at her and took a step forward, smoothing out the front of his shirt and running a hand through his hair.

“Coming,” he called as he moved toward the door. He opened it, and the smell of fresh-baked bread wafted into the warm, close room.

He glanced back at Erin, feeling like a high school kid whose mom had almost caught him making out with his girlfriend. Instead he was a thirty-year-old whose mom had almost caught him making out with his girlfriend.

His smile widened. “Yep, this is going to be a fun weekend.” He winked as Erin studied herself in the mirror above the dresser, smoothing her fingers over her hair and fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. “See you downstairs.”

* * *

It was like old times around the dinner table.

Erin slid right in to the Bradley family banter, inserting herself into the conversations as if she’d known everybody for years. Noah watched her out of the corner of his eye, trying to see her from his family’s point of view. There wasn’t a shy bone in her body, but she wasn’t pushy, either. She seemed to have an innate sense of how to make the people around her feel comfortable. He listened as she asked his dad questions about his job. It wasn’t exciting stuff—he was project manager at a Springfield engineering firm—but she seemed truly interested.

A couple times, he caught Melanie eyeing him with a look that was half satisfaction, half pure pleasure. Both times he looked away, embarrassed, but inwardly he was glad Erin’s presence was making his mom happy. He’d never thought about how worried she must have been about his long-term bachelor status.

As soon as everyone was finished eating, Noah and Nicki got up to clear the table. He and his sisters had always been responsible for the dishes growing up, and it was a habit they fell back into whenever they were home. As a kid it wasn’t one of his favorite traditions, but he’d come to appreciate it as an adult. He fended for himself pretty well.

His mom wouldn’t hear of letting a guest help clean up, so while he and Nicki carried plates to the sink, Erin followed Melanie and Geoff to the living room. He peeked in a couple of times to make sure she was okay, each time wondering why he’d bothered—of course she was okay. He groaned aloud when he realized his mom had already started pulling out old photo albums.

Nicki laughed when he told her what was happening, and he stuck his tongue out at her. With the exception of the new person in the front room, it really was like old times.

“So, big brother, Erin seems great. How’d you manage to get her to go out with you?”

He rolled his eyes, but paused to consider the question.

“You know, I don’t know. Luck, I think.”

She smiled. “Well, I guess I could see where
somebody—
somebody who didn’t have to put up with years of your annoyingness at least—might think you were kind of a catch. Wait, no, forget I said that.”

“Ha, ha,” he said dryly. He reached below the sink for his mom’s kitchen cleaner and sprayed it over the speckled Formica. He swiped at the counters with a damp towel, the chemical-citrus smell burning his nostrils.

“Seriously, though, it’s about time you had a girlfriend. You’re not getting any younger,” Nicki teased him. He was about to return the jibe when her expression suddenly changed. “Hey, speaking of that, what do you think about Amelia?”

He did a double take.

“What are you talking about?” His voice dropped several notches, and he spun to face her, incredulous. Why the hell would Nicki bring up Amelia—ever, but especially now, with his girlfriend in the next room? Nobody in this house had mentioned her name around him in years.

Her eyes grew wide. “Chill, Noah. Geez. I just wondered if you’d heard anything about her, I guess. Apparently you haven’t…” Her voice trailed off, and now she was the one who looked incredulous.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, shaking her head. She studied him for another second. “Forget I said anything.”

Glancing around to survey the now-clean kitchen, she turned and left the room, still shaking her head.

He stared after her, puzzled. Was he missing something?

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, because a second later, he heard the sound of tires hitting the driveway and his mom’s footsteps as she rushed to the front window. Sam and her family had just pulled up.

* * *

Two hours passed quickly as the group completed another round of introductions and then watched as Sam and Andy tried to keep up with Jonas’ terrible two-ness. He was a nonstop ball of energy, and their attempts to stay a step ahead of him were mostly ineffective. When his eyes started to glaze over and it was clear he was hitting the meltdown point, Sam excused herself and hauled him upstairs.

By the time she reappeared, Noah, Erin, Nicki, and Andy were sprawled out around the living room. Geoff and Melanie hung around for another twenty minutes or so before announcing it was time for them to go to bed, too, and “let the youngsters have their fun,” as Geoff put it. All three Bradley children rolled their eyes in unison.

Nicki swiped Geoff’s chair when their parents left the room and stayed on the periphery of the group. Her phone made an annoying chirping sound every time she got a text, which happened every few minutes. At one point Sam tossed a pillow at it and knocked it off the arm of the chair—it fell with a soft thud onto the green-and-brown floral rug. Nicki threw the pillow back at her, picked up the phone and put it on silent, and then continued pecking at the screen.

Erin, meanwhile, sat next to Sam, and the two of them talked about work. Sam was a teacher, too—fifth grade. She’d gone back to work that January and was trying to explain what it was like to juggle a career with motherhood. Noah caught bits and pieces of the conversation.

“…And she asked me to be room mom, and I
wanted
to be room mom, but I…”

“…Yeah, Andy picks him up from preschool on Thursdays so I can go to yoga, but the rest of the week…”

“…I don’t see how high school teachers do it. More stuff after-hours…”

He took little peeks at Erin’s face as they talked. She was nodding and chiming in and making the usual feminine-sympathy noises, but he thought she looked overwhelmed, like she’d rather be anywhere other than inside that conversation. It distracted him from the discussion he was having with Andy about the Cubs’ prospects. Andy, who’d grown up in Chicago, was a fellow Cubs fan and had season tickets even though he and Sam had moved away years ago. They’d met at Northwestern and followed his career around, finally landing in Ann Arbor, where he was an assistant athletic director at the University of Michigan.

It took a lot to divert Noah’s attention from the Cubs, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off Erin and her reactions to what Sam was saying.

He and Erin hadn’t talked much about the future. He figured it had a lot to do with their pasts, but whatever the reason, they seemed equally reluctant to bring up certain topics. He had no idea how she felt about kids. He didn’t even know how she felt about marriage after having been through one failed engagement. Even more troublesome, he didn’t know if he could see himself with her long-term.

He loved her. He was ninety-nine percent sure of it, and he’d said the words more than once. But it worried him that he didn’t feel it with certainty—he’d experienced that certainty before, so he knew what it felt like, and it eluded him now for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. That didn’t feel fair to Erin, and yet he felt like she was holding back, too. Like she might be in the same situation.

All he knew for sure was that he and Erin were living in the moment. They hadn’t discussed marriage, they hadn’t discussed kids, they hadn’t considered moving in together, and hell, they hadn’t even
slept
together. He glanced over at her again. She seemed fidgety, bored with the topic. His eyebrows raised in tandem with the red flag in his mind.

Doesn’t she want kids?
The thought left him unsettled.

A moment later he shook it off, feeling ridiculous. He’d avoided committed relationships for the better part of the last decade—it wasn’t like he was in some mad rush to settle down. He turned back to Andy, who’d just asked something he hadn’t heard.

“What?”

“Think your dad’s got any beer in the fridge?”

“Oh. Yeah, I bet he does.” He stood and started walking toward the kitchen. “Want a beer, Erin?”

She threw him a grateful look…or maybe he was just imagining it.

“Yes.” She paused. “Please.”

Family Drama

The next day, Friday, passed by in a blur. Nicki and Sam were in the wedding party and spent the entire morning busy with preparations. Melanie’s time was occupied with them, making last-minute alterations to the bridesmaids’ dresses. Sam in particular seemed to be having issues with the fit of her dress.

Erin hung around the rest of the women and offered moral support.

Noah and Andy, avoiding the female drama as much as possible, escaped into the living room to watch a baseball game with Geoff on his new 62-inch flat screen. Jonas toddled around them, and Andy had to jump up every few minutes to catch something he’d grabbed from a shelf or stop him from using the crayons clutched in his fists on anything besides his coloring books.

Late that afternoon, the whole group headed out for the wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner in Auburn. It was after eleven before the caravan made its way back up the Bradleys’ driveway. Even Nicki headed straight upstairs to her old room to bed.

Saturday morning, Noah awoke to the sound of bacon sizzling downstairs in the kitchen. He opened his bedroom door, breathed in the breakfast smells, and peeked into the guest room to find Erin already up and showered. He hurried to do the same.

By the time he came downstairs, breakfast was in full swing, the table as crowded as he’d ever seen it. He stood in the doorway for a few seconds and watched Erin, feeling whole and satisfied for the first time in as long as he could remember. She was talking to his mom and Nicki and laughing at something Nicki had just said. He walked over and slid in next to her on the bench on one side of his parents’ farmhouse-style table.