Chapter 11
After spending most of the day with Isla, helping her fix the pipe, Nolan needed to get away. The more time he spent with her, the harder it was to remember why they were no longer together. She was beautiful and had a heart of gold, but she also betrayed him and let the whole county know that she didn’t trust him after years of dating. It had been humiliating and a real kick to the balls.
Isla insisted she’d changed, but his heart couldn’t handle another betrayal. If she was still insecure, still unsure of his devotion to her, he couldn’t risk it. He wouldn’t. Which was why he called Milo to see what he was up to.
He was down at Pinot and Gogh, setting up easels. Nolan offered his help and Milo jumped on it. He’d arrived shortly after, but spent ten minutes trying to find a parking spot. Once he did, he headed inside where Milo jumped up from the floor and threw himself at Nolan.
“My savior!” he exclaimed, and Nolan laughed at his antics. Some things never changed, and Nolan was grateful for that.
“How many have you put together so far?” Nolan asked.
Milo put his hands on his hips and sighed. “Five.”
“And how many do you have left?”
“Twenty.”
“Haven’t you been here for like three hours already?”
“Harper distracted me.” An insinuating smile crossed his face.
“Christening the new building?”
“Many times.”
Nolan shook his head and laughed. After everything Milo and Harper had been through, Nolan was happy they finally realized they were meant for each other.
Milo pointed east. “She went down to meet the girls at Greta’s for late day pancakes. I’m sure to gossip about you.”
“About me?” Nolan asked.
“The knight and shining armor who saved Isla from drowning in her own kitchen.”
“I turned the water off,” Nolan deadpanned. “You would’ve done the same thing if you were there.”
“True, but I wasn’t, and you were. How bad was the damage?”
“We needed to cut part of the pipe out and solder a new piece in. It’s fixed, but we had to put a nice-sized hole in the wall to get to it. So now we have to replace the sheetrock.”
Milo’s eyebrow arched. “We?”
“Do you honestly think she knows how to hang sheetrock?”
“Her dad does.”
“She said he has a lot on his plate, and since I don’t, I volunteered. It’ll take me no time.”
“You did learn from the best in the business.”
“That I did.” Milo’s dad owned a construction company, and whenever Nolan wanted to make a little extra cash, Mr. Amato always welcomed him on the job. The summer before he left, he’d picked up a lot of weekend shifts, hoping to save as much money as possible. He had plans, big plans, but they never came to fruition.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he slipped it out. What the…
“What is it?” Milo asked.
“My boss. I mean my old boss.”
“I thought you quit?”
“I did.”
“Are you going to answer it?”
A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have even hesitated, but that was before he was passed up for the promotion he not only was promised, but earned. He silenced the phone and put it back in his pocket. “No.”
Milo slapped him on the back in a comforting gesture. “How about those easels?”
Sunny skies turned to inky nights by the time Nolan and Milo finished putting together the rest of the easels. Milo had said twenty, but Nolan counted and Milo had been off by at least ten. The five he managed to put together were really just three. Not that Nolan minded. He was grateful for the distraction from both Isla and the random call from George. George hadn’t left a message, so Nolan figured the call was an accident.
He pulled into the driveway and got out of the car, ready to plop on the couch and watch some TV. A muffled cry had him stopping in his tracks.
He knew he should ignore the sounds coming from the backyard, walk right into the house, and forget about Isla. But she was crying, which meant she was hurting, and he wasn’t the type of person to walk away.
Bypassing the front steps, he headed around the side of the house and made his way to Isla’s property. Her back was to him, hair thrown up haphazardly in a messy bun, head bent, knees brought to her chest. A sniffle echoed through the quiet night, mixing with the sounds of crickets.
“You okay?” he asked, and she jumped at his voice, hands flying to her face and swiping at her eyes.
“I’m fine.” But her voice cracked.
He sat down beside her, his thigh pressing slightly against hers. He nudged his shoulder into hers. “You never were a good liar.”
She brought her legs into her chest. Her shorts rose up her thigh with the movement, and he tried not to stare at the silky, smooth flesh. And he definitely did not think about how he knew how silky smooth her skin was.
He took his eyes away from her legs and focused on the darkness surrounding them. For a while they just sat there, neither saying anything. Isla turned her head, resting her cheek on her knee. He looked at her and she forced a smile. “I miss her. I couldn’t imagine losing someone unexpectedly. I had months to come to terms with it, had a chance to say my goodbyes, and it still wasn’t enough. There are other things I wish I could have said or asked.”
“Like what?”
“Like why the hell she thought leaving me her house was a good idea.”
“That’s easy,” he said.
Isla’s eyes pinned him in place. “Is it, huh?”
“It is.”
She turned her head back, resting her chin on her knee and looking out to the darkness with him. “Care to clue me in.”
“You loved this house more than anyone, and she knew you’d take care of it.”
Isla barked out a laugh. “I have single-handedly destroyed it.”
“One burst pipe is not destroying it. Besides, that had nothing to do with you. Things get old and break, and let’s be real, this house is old. She’s definitely seen some stuff.”
This time her smile wasn’t forced; it was natural and lovely. “If only walls could talk. I’d love to hear the stories.”
“When we put up the new wall, it’ll be ready for its own stories, and those stories will be yours. Don’t look at it as destroying the house or its memories. Think of it as adding to the story. Adding your chapter.”
“I like that.” She turned, resting her cheek on her knee and gazing up at him. He couldn’t count the amount of times they’d been in this very backyard, her looking at him in the exact same way.
The wind blew slightly, and the loose hairs from her ponytail fluttered about her face. He reached up, smoothing the hair back in place, his finger lingering on her ear. She inhaled and bit her lip. That was his undoing.
His body moved on its own accord, leaning in close to her. Her warm floral scent danced with the wind, spinning right into him. It surrounded him in a dizzying embrace that had him begging to get a little closer still. Her eyes widened as she realized he was moving in, and as he was about to slip his eyes shut and capture her lips, he jolted back.
The tiniest of gasps slipped from her lips and, feeling like a jerk, he jumped to his feet. He pointed over his shoulder to the house. “It’s late. I should go.”
Isla pushed to her feet and pointed to her own house. “Me too. Thanks for stopping by. I’ll see you later.” She hurried into the house, and he let his head fall back as her door slammed shut.
He was an idiot, plain and simple. He wasn’t ready to trust his heart to the woman who broke it.