Читать книгу This Just In... - Jennifer McKenzie - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

EVEN BEFORE SHE met Pete Peters in person, Sabrina knew she wouldn’t like him. In their phone conversations, he’d called her darling twice and joked about women in the construction business as if women couldn’t swing hammers and saw wood with any hope of competency.

The interview did nothing to change her initial opinion. But as she’d told Noah, these articles weren’t about snarking on the candidates. So she wrote as polite an article as possible about Pete, leaving out his rampant chauvinism and highlighting his family instead.

She was proud of her work. Really, it had been difficult not to let her distaste of the subject creep through, but she’d done it. Since the article had run three days ago, she’d received multiple compliments on it.

In the city, Sabrina had often wondered if people read her work at all.

But she wasn’t in the city right now, she reminded herself. She looked at her newly bare walls, ignoring the pile of hideous Easter-egg-colored wallpaper piled in the corner. The walls were in decent shape, requiring only a bit of patching.

She hadn’t seen much of Noah since he’d helped her move a little over a week ago. She’d thought he might come knocking on her door this morning, or pop into the coffee shop to schedule that interview, but she hadn’t seen him at all.

Sabrina hoped he’d read the article. If not, she had an extra copy sitting on her coffee table that she could personally deliver.

She patched the nail holes and the intermittent dents in the walls. Once the putty dried, she could sand and paint. She stepped back and dusted her hands on the seat of her shorts. Might as well go get the paint now. Tuesday evening was bound to be quiet at the hardware store and she didn’t have anything better to do.

Sad, but true. In her old life she’d be on her way out for dinner and drinks on a patio, maybe heading to a club for some live music. Or having a barbecue on the beach with friends. Here? She was watching home-decorating shows and stripping wallpaper. Such a glamorous life she led.

Sabrina grabbed her purse from her bedroom and glanced at her footwear in the open closet. Her old red cowboy boots stared back at her, bright and cheerful and a memento of bygone days. She’d had some good times in those boots.

Being named Miss Northern Lights at the town’s annual festival for the second year in a row. Getting caught smoking and drinking behind one of the tents at same festival and being uncrowned. High school graduation day. Graduation night.

She remembered the day she bought them. She and Marissa had been shopping for Marissa’s sweet-sixteen party when she’d seen them sitting on top of a pedestal, practically glowing at her. Like fire. She’d snatched them up and held them to her chest, ready to do battle if necessary and looked over to find Marissa doing the same thing to a pair in cotton-candy-pink. They hadn’t stopped laughing until they’d left the store wearing the boots. They’d been the talk of the party. But then, they always were.

Sabrina still hadn’t seen Marissa. Since there were only a few thousand people who called the town home and Sabrina was confident she’d seen every one of them multiple times, she could only assume that it was a purposeful snub. She’d hoped they could say hello, maybe have a chat. A little ache worked its way into her heart. What was it her mother always said? New friends are silver but old friends are gold.

In her case, friends were nonexistent. Both new and old.

She slipped the boots on. Maybe she didn’t still have her friendships, but she still had her boots.

As expected, the hardware store was empty except for Ed, the owner, working behind the register, and her. He scowled when she brought up her paint. Probably still angry with her for that missing parking sign from a decade ago.

But what had he expected? He’d installed a special custom-made parking sign in front of his store, reserving the space for his newly restored ’Vette. He’d even gotten Marissa ticketed for parking there once, which was ridiculous and would never have happened had the sheriff not been his brother. So one night they’d crawled up the post, removed the personalized sign and hung it in Marissa’s room. Sabrina wondered if she still had it.

She paid without engaging Ed in a chat and carried her purchases out to her vehicle, cranking the radio as she drove back home and indulging in the cheerful twang of the country song spilling from the speakers. In Vancouver, she rarely listened to the songs of her youth, worried that they’d highlight her humble beginnings.

Maybe she should crank the tunes when she got home, too. Perhaps that would draw Noah out. She could casually point to the paper and ask if he’d had a chance to read her article, then book his interview on the spot. And if she were completely honest, she wouldn’t mind spending some time with him, either.

He might try to hide it behind his preppy haircut and collared shirts, but Mr. Mayor was a sexy beast. She remembered in high school all the girls, her included, thinking Kyle Barnes was the hottest guy in Wheaton and quite possibly the country. But after spending a bit of time with Noah? Kyle wasn’t even in the running.

And she was due for a little fun in her life. She turned into the driveway. A fling with the mayor sounded pretty fun indeed.

Sabrina was so busy singing and thinking about a potential fling that it took a moment to notice the mess on her formerly pristine front porch.

* * *

NOAH JUST WANTED to get home. The day had been longer and more eventful than he would have liked. He’d had to drive to his dealership in a town an hour away when the manager there had up and quit without notice. Once he’d calmed the staff down and started the process of finding a replacement, he’d gotten a call from a constituent in Wheaton who was concerned that her neighbor’s tree was hanging too far into the street and needed to be trimmed.

She’d left three more messages while he drove back to town. After assuring her that someone would take care of the problem and soothing the tree-owning neighbor, he’d zipped over to the Wheaton dealership for a few hours. His payroll guy had botched the data entry and somehow deleted everyone’s hours. Fortunately, Noah kept a backup since this wasn’t the first time it had happened. He should probably let the man go, but he had a young family and he was trying hard. Maybe he could find a different role for him, one where Noah wouldn’t have to put in extra hours of work every week.

And then he’d had to attend the weekly council meeting, where the mic had been hijacked by an overly confident Pete Peters wanting to resubmit a request for rezoning. Really, was it any wonder Noah wanted to shut his eyes and let the day end?

As he pulled down the side road that led to the house, he wondered if Sabrina would be around. He’d read her article on Pete before all hell had broken loose. Balanced and fair, it had made the man look a lot nicer than he was. Noah had waffled long enough. If Sabrina was around, he’d tell her tonight that he wanted to do the interview.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he thought of seeing her. She’d made herself at home the past week, setting out huge pots of flowers and a pair of Adirondack chairs on the porch. He often heard her singing along to the local country station at the top of her lungs. Her dad hadn’t been lying about that, but neither had she. She was always on key.

When he turned into the driveway, he spotted her on the porch on her hands and knees scrubbing at something. He enjoyed the sight of her butt as he rolled by. He was tired, not dead.

He parked by the detached garage and left the windows open to cool the vehicle. It had been a hot day and the interior had retained a lot of the warmth. As he walked toward the house he felt a little more of the tiredness in his bones float away. There was something to be said for being greeted by a great pair of legs and a fine ass.

When Sabrina turned to greet him, Noah nearly stopped dead in his tracks. Clad in a thin white T-shirt, a pair of denim cut-offs and red cowboy boots, she was his high school fantasy come to life. Oh, hell.

“Look at this.” She gestured sharply to the porch behind her.

He dragged his eyes away from those boots. The porch was a mess. All those heavy pots she’d dragged to the perfect positions last weekend now lay in shards around her. Piles of dirt were ground into the white planks and the blooms had been crushed, judging from the footprints, by someone wearing sneakers. “What happened?” He looked from the disaster area to her.

Sabrina put her hands on her hips. “That’s what I’d like to know. I know Marissa wasn’t happy to see me back, but what did these flowers do to anyone? They’re innocent.”

All the time she’d spent sprucing up the front wasted by some kids who were bored. “You okay?” He’d heard the thread of tension in her voice, understood it. She was rattled and wound tight, as anyone would be who came home to find their home damaged.

“I’m fine.” But her smile didn’t reach her eyes. There was a dirt smudge near her hairline and another by her knee. The colorful scarf tying back her hair blew in the light breeze.

Noah surveyed the chaos as he walked up the steps to stand beside her. “Were you here when it happened?”

She shook her head. “No. I was getting paint from the hardware store.” She knelt to start cleaning again and Noah felt the tension in his body ease.

He moved to help her, pressing a knee into the step for leverage and lifting what looked like half a pot into his arms. Dirt spilled down his blue golf shirt and gray pants as he carried the pottery to the plastic garbage can she’d dragged to the porch. “When did you find things like this?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes ago.” Sabrina followed behind him and tossed a few pieces of clay pot into the bin. They made a dull thump against the thick plastic. “I’m surprised. I didn’t realize things like this happened here.”

“Teenagers.” He tried to focus on what he was saying and not on the fact that he could see the lace outline of her bra through the soft material of her T-shirt. But when he looked away, his gaze landed on those little shorts instead. As if his imagination needed any help after all that talk about the shower last weekend. “Sometimes they get bored and do stupid things.”

Sabrina smiled again and this time it reached her eyes. “These ones are plenty stupid. They left a note.” She pointed to the porch railing.

Noah walked over and saw a message gouged into the wood. Fuq.

“Charming, isn’t it?” She scooped up a bunch of blooms and dirt. Together, they dumped the last of the mess into the garbage can. Her spicy-sweet scent overpowered the aroma of fresh dirt when she stopped beside him. “You don’t think they’ll come back, do you?”

“No. I don’t.” He was surprised they’d dared to do it in the first place. Most times, any vandalism happened at a construction site left unguarded for the evening. Occasionally on the school or other public building where it would achieve maximum impact. “Are you worried?”

“Of course not.” She scoffed as though the very idea was an insult. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve spent the past nine years living in the heart of Vancouver. A couple of punk vandals are nothing.”

She was quiet for a minute. Noah watched while she swept the piles of dirt off the porch and onto the flowerbeds below with her foot.

“But I’d be happier if it hadn’t happened at all.” She sighed and kicked some more dirt. “Thanks for helping me clean up. If this had happened at my old apartment, my neighbor would have called the landlord to complain.”

“About vandalism?”

She shrugged. “He didn’t like me.”

Noah thought the man was clearly an idiot. He dusted his hands off. “No problem.” Sabrina’s smile could knock a man off his feet if her boots hadn’t already done the job. He cleared his throat. “I’ll get a broom for the rest of this.” A clearer head would be nice, too.

He focused on what he’d need to repair the gouges in the wood—some sandpaper and a coat or two of white paint—and not on the way Sabrina looked in those shorts. And boots.

But his fingers tightened around the handle of the push broom he’d pulled from the shed when he saw Sabrina bent over again. So he said the first thing that popped into his head. “You know, this might have been a message for me.”

“For you?” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “The town’s golden son? I highly doubt that.”

Noah wasn’t the town’s golden son, but this wasn’t the time to correct her. He walked up the steps. “If you’re worried about them coming back, you could get a dog.”

“A dog?” She stood up, pushing her hair back.

“Yes.” A big, slavering dog that would keep vandals and bored teenagers away. “For safety.” So that any troublemaker who showed up would get a surprise. A toothy, barky surprise. Actually, it was a pretty good idea for spur-of-the-moment thinking.

But Sabrina shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got city instincts. And you’re probably right, these guys won’t come back.” Her eyes met his. “Besides, I can’t get a dog—I’m not staying. What would I do with a dog when I left?”

Noah nodded. She was right. A dog was a foolish idea. It would be irresponsible for her to get a dog when she knew she wasn’t staying and the dog couldn’t go with her. Maybe he should get a dog. But then he wasn’t home enough to make that a reasonable option, either.

He started sweeping.

“I can do that.” She held her hand out for the broom. “Really, you’ve done more than enough.”

But Noah just kept sweeping. He could easily go inside, break this little connection they were forging. Sabrina wasn’t staying. She knew that. He knew that. The whole town knew that. And yet he didn’t leave the porch.

His eyes tracked her hands as she rubbed them on the seat of her denim shorts. He wondered if it were possible for him to institute a bylaw that banned those shorts. Or perhaps one that required Sabrina Ryan to wear them at all times. He swept harder.

She stood by the damaged railing, fingers tracing the ugly message. “Are you always like this?”

“Always like what?” Trying to pretend that his body wasn’t screaming for him to stop thinking and start acting?

“Doing things that aren’t your job.”

“I’m the mayor.”

“So?” The colorful scarf holding back her hair trailed over one shoulder and around the curve of her breast. Noah feared he might snap the broom’s wooden handle. “That doesn’t mean you’re responsible for everything that happens within town limits.”

Noah swallowed and told his body to get back to sweeping. His body told his brain that it needed a moment. Just one moment as his eyes drank in every curve of her body. “I don’t act like I’m responsible for everything.”

She cocked her head. “Oh, really?”

“Yes.” He didn’t; he just tried to help out. Not the same thing at all.

Sabrina nodded, but didn’t look like she believed him. “I know it isn’t the dinner I owe you, but how about some coffee to say thanks for helping with the dirty work?”

Noah glanced down at his pants which were streaked with dirt. He’d have to spray and presoak them before washing. He looked back at Sabrina. She shook something deep inside of him. A part of himself that he kept carefully caged. He glanced over at the sun, dipping below the horizon. A secretive time, when people acted out of character and blamed it on the night. “It’s late.”

“Right.” But her face fell and dragged his stomach with it.

“It’s late for coffee,” he heard himself say. “I’ve got an early start tomorrow. If I drink coffee now, I’ll be up all night.”

Sabrina’s face brightened and Noah felt his stomach do a slow somersault. “Something else, then?”

He should say no. He balanced the broom against the railing. They could part now and go to their respective homes feeling good about the interaction. Just a couple of neighbors. But he didn’t want to say no. “Sounds great.”

He tried not to watch her go, those boots flashing, hips wiggling, but failed. And when she came back with two water glasses and handed one to him, their fingers brushing, he felt a flash of heat that had nothing to do with the hot day crest through him.

Her throat bobbed as she took a long sip. Noah blinked and reminded himself that licking her neck would not be considered appropriate mayoral behavior. He thought about doing it anyway.

She sat down and leaned back, resting on her elbows. The movement outlined the lace bra she wore. There was a streak of dirt on her shoulder. He knew his own clothes hadn’t fared any better. But he didn’t care. His fingers pressed harder against the cold glass.

“How are Marissa and Kyle?”

Noah blinked. He was thinking about peeling her out of her clothes and she wanted to talk about his family? “They’re fine.”

She nodded. “I haven’t seen them. I guess they’re avoiding me.”

Noah swallowed some more water and tried to bring his mind around to the conversation they were having, not the one he wanted to have, which involved climbing out of their clothes. “Does that bother you?”

Sabrina swiveled to look up at him. “Yes.” Her eyes, normally so bright and cheerful, looked sad. “I’d hoped, well, it doesn’t matter what I’d hoped.” She played with the end of her scarf. “Did Marissa ever tell you that I tried to apologize?”

It took a second for the words to sink in to Noah’s heat-soaked brain. “You did?” His dear sister-in-law had never mentioned that. But then, to be fair, the topic had been a sensitive one for Marissa, who had felt more judgment over the unplanned pregnancy than Kyle.

Sabrina nodded, her fingers twirling the scarf around and around. “I called right after she had the baby, but she wouldn’t talk to me.”

Noah considered that little nugget of information. Marissa had always given him the impression that, after the interview, she’d never heard from Sabrina again.

“I sent a gift and a letter.” Sabrina smiled to herself. “I guess I thought it might prove to her that I was sorry. As if a fuzzy white stuffed animal could make up for what I wrote.”

“A toy dog,” Noah said. He knew that dog. It had been Paul’s favorite as a baby, and though the doll was now gray with age, it still held a place of honor on his bed.

Sabrina’s eyes widened. “Yes. So she did get it. I was never sure.”

Noah nodded slowly. “It was a difficult time for them.” New parents, newlyweds. A hard time for anyone.

Sabrina traced her finger along the rim of her glass. “I keep hoping I’ll see her, so I can tell her I’m sorry.” She put her glass down on the steps and turned toward him.

A tingle worked its way up his spine. The sun dropped farther, leaving them in a silent twilight. His eyes followed the curve of her cheek, the dark shadow of her lashes as she peeked up at him. No one else would be making an appearance here tonight. No one could see them from the road or the yard.

For all intents and purposes, they were alone. Completely alone.

“I still miss her.” Sabrina’s voice was low, intimate. “We were best friends. I thought we’d be friends forever. And then I wrote that snotty article.” She looked down at her lap. “There are times I wonder if I did the wrong thing. If I’m a bad person.”

The tremor in her voice dove right into Noah’s heart and stayed there. “You’re not a bad person.” He sank down on the step beside her, tangled his fingers with hers and squeezed.

“Your sister-in-law would disagree.”

“She doesn’t know everything.”

“Don’t tell her that.”

He laughed and put his glass down. He didn’t want to talk about Marissa anymore. He didn’t want to talk at all. He tugged on Sabrina’s hand, drawing her closer to him. First their shoulders touched, then their hips, then her legs pressed against the length of his. Her face tilted up, glowing in the soft evening light.

“Mr. Mayor.” Her breath tickled his lips as he bent closer. “Are you going to kiss me?”

Noah stopped. Had he read the entire situation wrong? Was she just looking for a neighborly visit where they sat on the porch and talked about the day’s problems? The tips of his ears burned and his chest tightened. “I was.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”