This Just In... (Harlequin Superromance) (7 page)

Her pulse fluttered when she pulled into the dealership’s parking lot and saw him waiting for her at the entrance. The man could fill out a pair of pants. And a shirt. And a jacket. And shoes. She shook her head and smoothly parked the SUV as though she hadn’t just been thinking about what he looked like under all those clothes.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Mayor.” Keep it professional and businesslike.

Noah held the door for her as she climbed out, then closed it behind her. “Are you always going to call me that?”

She pretended to think about it. “Yes. I think it’s got a nice ring. Or are you looking to give up your title?”

“Not even close. You look good.” He leaned toward her. Her pulse sped up. Was he going to kiss her? Right here? In the parking lot, in front of everyone? “I miss the red boots, though.”

Then he offered his arm and led her toward the back corner of the lot.

Sabrina exhaled coolly as though she hadn’t just been about to let him jump her bones. “I didn’t think they matched the pink top. So what’s on the schedule for today?”

She hoped it wasn’t a show and tell of the dealership followed by a recitation of his platform. She’d read his website multiple times last night—she’d finished painting and needed to do something besides watch TV or wait for her friends to return her texts—and she was well versed in what he planned to do as mayor. Or planned to continue doing. Increasing community services, lowering taxes, raising tourism. All excellent points, and far more useful than Pete’s platform, which seemed to consist of changing zoning laws. But she was looking for a more personal angle. The kind of thing that would make readers take notice, call a friend and tell them to pick up the paper, too.

“Cedar Oaks.” Noah’s hand on her elbow was big and warm. She remembered how it felt pressed against her bare skin and a shiver rolled through her. She batted the feeling away.

“The retirement complex?” Sabrina knew Cedar Oaks well. Her grandfather had moved there after her grandmother died and spent the last five years of his life in comfort and luxury. But she hadn’t been there since he passed away when she was fifteen. “Why?”

“I volunteer there on Friday afternoons.”

Of course he did. Because Noah Barnes was practically perfect in every way. She grinned at him. “So exactly what do you do there? Play bridge? Lawn bowling? Shuffleboard?”

“Clichés,” he told her with smile. A real one. None of that faux mayor in sight. “We dance.”

Sabrina stopped walking, pleased when Noah stopped, too. His hand held her arm just a little tighter. Or was that her imagination? Either way, she liked it. “You dance?”

“Well, I don’t dance, but the residents do.”

She tilted her head to look at him. The sun was bright and warm on her face. That’s what was making her cheeks feel heated. Well, that and the fact that her fevered imagination was picturing Noah’s moves on the dance floor and elsewhere. But only for a second because this was an interview and she was a professional. “And what do you do while everyone else is out there bumping and grinding?” She feigned seriousness as though this were a question that was the crux of his election strategy.

“I make sure everyone else is having a good time.” His thumb rubbed across her inner elbow. She definitely wasn’t imagining that. Her breath caught. “But a small piece of advice—don’t mention bumping and grinding to George Cuthbert.”

“Why?” They started moving again. Sabrina knew George’s granddaughter, Julie, who’d used to babysit her when she was little. Julie was awesome. She’d let Sabrina eat ice cream for dinner and stay up past her bedtime. “Will he get upset and yell at me about the dangers of premarital fornication?”

Noah snorted. “Not likely. And don’t mention fornication, either. You’ll give him a heart attack.”

“You could handle it,” she said as they reached his car and he opened the door for her. His hand lingered on her waist as he assisted her inside. She’d once gone on a date with someone who’d actually started the car before he’d even bothered to unlock the passenger door for her. This was much nicer. “I’m sure you know CPR.” Probably had his lifeguard certification and ambulance training, too.

Noah’s upper lip curled. “I have no interest in spending my Friday afternoon giving mouth-to-mouth to George Cuthbert.”

“Aw, the poor man probably needs a kiss. Really, it’s your duty as mayor to ensure his needs are met.”

“No.”

“It would only be a kiss,” Sabrina continued, enjoying the horror Noah was trying valiantly not to show. “I’d hardly call it making out. Or have you been married to the town too long to know the difference?”

He leaned down, looking at her so hard that she shivered. His voice was so quiet she had to lean forward to hear it. “Are you asking for another demonstration?”

Sabrina’s breath caught. She hadn’t been, but now that the idea was out there, floating through the air and her head, she wanted one. A long, hot demonstration.

But before she could take him up on his generous offer, Noah stepped back, shut the door with a click and made his way around to the driver’s side. Tracking him, noting the effortless way he moved, probably wasn’t her brightest idea. She did it anyway and felt a flicker of longing when he slid behind the wheel.

“You’re a bit of a bad boy under that polished exterior, Mr. Mayor.” He blinked as though this information was new to him. Had he been playing the town’s golden son for so long that he’d lost touch with who he was? “Do your constituents know?”

His hands were loose on the steering wheel as he headed out of the parking lot and pulled onto the street, handling the powerful car easily. A man like that could handle a lot of things easily. “Only if you plan to tell them.”

“Don’t tempt me.” She watched him change gears smoothly. She wasn’t much of a car person, but there was something insanely sexy watching him control the car. She stuffed the thought away for later when there was no interview or car or anything else to get in their way.

Like everything else in town, Cedar Oaks was only a ten-minute drive away. The complex was more like a luxury apartment building with small private suites for the residents and a lower level filled with spacious rooms used for everything from entertaining to eating.

There was a small wing off the main level for those residents who required more hands-on care for physical or mental reasons. There the coded locks prevented anyone from wandering off and helped the employees keep an eye on all residents as some didn’t like signing in and out of the log the way they were supposed to.

Sabrina’s grandfather had been one of them, insisting that putting the information down in the logbook was inviting thieves to break into his suite and rob him of all his belongings. The fact that there were no recorded break-ins at Cedar Oaks did nothing to soothe him. He could not be convinced that his decades-old plaid shirts and khakis were of little interest to these hypothetical thieves.

Finally, in a burst of inspiration, Sabrina’s mother had suggested he sign “Captain Midnight” instead of his own name to fool anyone who might be looking. And for the rest of his time at Cedar Oaks, Robert Ryan had been more than happy to participate in movie outings, shopping trips and any other activity that took him away from the complex. But only as the anonymous Captain.

Sabrina smiled and wrote down “Captain Midnight’s granddaughter” as she used to do when she visited him. Her grandpa had laughed long and hard every time he saw her signature in the book. She smiled at the memory.

“Noah, Sabrina. Welcome.”

Sabrina looked up from the book, smiling when she saw Kyle and Noah’s mother, Ellen Barnes, coming toward them. She hadn’t changed a bit. Still tall and slender, with her blond hair cut short and a pair of jeweled earrings hanging from her earlobes.

She enveloped Sabrina in a strong hug now. “It’s good to have you back.” Her smile was all warmth and affability. “You look like life’s treated you well.”

“It has.” And the tension she’d felt about seeing Ellen again melted away. She wondered if that was because Noah was here or because Ellen wasn’t the type to hold a grudge.

“I’m so glad you could come with Noah today.” Ellen linked an arm through Sabrina’s. Ellen was the director of Cedar Oaks and her upkeep and care of both the building and residents was evident. “Everyone is going to love seeing you. Many of them still remember your grandfather. He was a popular fellow.”

Sabrina smiled through the sudden prickling behind her eyes. Although Captain Midnight had been gone for years, she still missed him. How he’d pretend that his old car (nickname: Betsy) was low on gas and they might not make it into town. The jokes he told over and over. How when she used to stay with him as a little girl he always made her soup and let her choose the flavor, which was a pretty big deal to a six-year-old. Being here brought back those memories and even though they made her heart ache, it was a good ache.

“I’m looking forward to seeing them.” Sabrina wasn’t even lying. As she recalled, the residents were always happy to see visitors and treated most of them like long-lost family. She looked forward to visiting with them. Had it really been more than a decade? She wondered how many had slipped away while she’d been gallivanting in the city, focused on her own life. She glanced at Noah. Though there was no way he could have anticipated her reaction to Cedar Oaks, she was grateful he’d chosen it for their interview.

Ellen led her away from the front desk through the cheerful lounge area, leaving Noah to follow a few steps behind. There was a TV on with the sound muted and a small table where a couple were involved in a rather serious chess match.

Sabrina noted the changes. The carpet that looked brand-new, the fireplace that was currently unlit but would add a homey feel during the cold winter months, the patio off the back so residents and visitors could enjoy the garden in the summer. “Tell me about the complex. Things look different from the last time I was here.”

Ellen was only too happy to fill her in. Not only was there a new patio out back, but a new gym and a small movie theater where they showed second-run movies or important hockey games—which in Wheaton was all of them.

“Noah paid for most of it.”

“Did he?” She glanced over her shoulder at Noah who was trailing along behind them. “Very generous.”

He looked a little embarrassed. “Mom, stop. I didn’t pay for it. I helped fundraise. And you promised you weren’t going to tell people about that anymore.”

“I never promised,” Ellen said, “and why wouldn’t I tell people? You did a wonderful thing. And, as your mother, I’ve earned the right to brag.”

Sabrina had expected Noah to look pleased about his mother’s revelation. Not smug because that wouldn’t fit his generous image, but pleased that someone who wasn’t him had managed to slide in a piece of info that was sure to appeal to voters.

Instead, he sighed and pinned her with a look. “This isn’t part of the article.”

She blinked. His generosity was exactly the kind of thing she’d hoped to focus on. A complex like Cedar Oaks didn’t come cheap. Although she was sure Ellen did her best to keep costs down, the day-to-day overhead would eat up most of the money residents and families paid. The complex relied on government grants or donations from the community for the extra perks. And judging from the size and scope of the changes, Noah’s donation must have been generous indeed. “Why not? It’s a great story.”

“It was a few years ago.” He caught up to them, walked on the other side of the Sabrina. “It isn’t part of this election.”

And yet, she knew it would appeal to voters. “I’ll think about it.” She grinned when he frowned at her.

They reached the end of a long hallway with a pair of double doors. Noah opened one, holding it while his mother entered, and turned his attention to Sabrina. “I mean it. I’d really prefer you not write about that.”

Sabrina studied him, noted his concern in the crunch of his brows and the frown on his lips. Exactly what was so bad about sharing his donation with the world? It wasn’t like the information would come as a surprise to anyone in Wheaton. “But why?”

“Because I asked you not to.”

She considered it. Considered him. Then nodded slowly. She didn’t understand it, but she could accept it. If he wanted to keep his good works private that was his business. “Okay. I won’t write about it.”

Relief spilled across his face, made him look younger as if, for once, the weight of the town wasn’t on his shoulders. “Thank you.”

She wondered about that relief, too. But didn’t have a chance to ruminate long as Noah escorted her through the doors and into a large, square room.

It was set up as a ballroom with wood floors, tables and chairs lining the edges and a chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling. Most seats were filled with chattering residents who turned en masse as they entered.

“Noah.”

“Mayor Barnes.”

“It’s about time you got here. I don’t have long left, boy. You think I want to spend it waiting on you?” An elderly gentleman with eyebrows that looked like they could qualify for their own address wheeled his way toward them.

Sabrina didn’t recognize him, but Noah clearly did. “You know how to work the stereo, George.”

Noah excused himself and walked across the room to where groups of women were calling out to him. Sabrina almost expected to see a trail of handkerchiefs fluttering. He stopped, spending a moment or two with each one, making sure no one was left out. She felt a flicker in her heart.

Then she turned back to the infamous George and gave him the once-over. He did the same to her.

“I like Elvis.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. Large bushy eyebrows that could probably be used to knit a sweater. Then he leaned back in his wheelchair. “Who are you, girlie?”

“Sabrina Ryan.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m a reporter writing a piece on Noah for the paper.”

George ignored the hand and looked up at her. She could see gray hair sprouting from his ears. “Didn’t ask what you did, asked who you are. You got potatoes growing in those pretty ears?”

“No,” Sabrina said, knowing the best way to deal with trouble was head on. “Do you?”