15. Victoria
Chapter 15
Victoria
I stayed late, breaking down boxes for recycling pickup on Tuesday, inventorying the meat in the freezers, and applying for a grant that would allow us to become a designated regional diaper bank. It was a long shot, but if we received it, I could buy diapers from the federal government at reduced rates.
I was no stranger to applications, spinning things, and marketing what we did and how we did it in order to present the strongest case possible.
It was after seven before I made it home. I bypassed my own door and headed straight up to Noah’s. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I knew I wouldn’t find it in my empty apartment.
“Come in,” he called, and I opened the unlocked door.
He was on the couch, watching something on his phone. Tess, dressed in green footie pajamas, was stacking rubber blocks on the floor.
He greeted me with a sheepish grin, quickly putting his phone down.
“What are you watching?”
“Okay, this probably sounds weird, but I’m watching girl hair tutorials on YouTube.”
“Seriously?” I put my purse on the table and toed off my sneakers, then padded over to investigate.
“Ick,” Tess said, surrounded by her mess of toys.
I leaned down and gave her a kiss.
Noah held up his phone. “Yes. There’s this guy, Jeff.” He held up the phone so I could see the screen. Sure enough, there was a middle-aged guy braiding a girl’s hair. “He’s a single dad and started a channel so other single dads could learn how to do their daughters’ hair.”
I straightened, frozen for a moment, processing how stupidly adorable the concept was.
“Tess’s hair is growing.” He ducked his head. “I’ve mastered pigtails. You should have seen my first few attempts. My hands are so big.” With his hands held up, he gave me a sheepish grin.
Yep, they definitely resembled bear paws. Wide and strong but with long, graceful fingers.
“And the elastics are so small. It took forever to figure out how to get them in the right spots.”
“You’re doing great.” Tess’s hair was currently in two tiny, perfectly symmetrical pigtails. He had nothing to worry about.
“For now. But her favorite movie is Frozen . How long until she’s requesting an Elsa braid?”
I shrugged. I didn’t have a clue, but my gut told me not long, given how opinionated the little diva was about most things.
“So I’m training.” He gave me a big, crinkle-eyed smile. “Being a girl dad is serious business.”
Dropping to the vacant cushion, I snatched up the remote. “I have no doubt.”
“I even got a doll.” He leaned over the arm of his side of the couch and plucked a plastic doll off the floor. Her bright yellow polyester hair was twisted into a wonky braid. “For practice.”
The scene was too sweet for words. It was so Noah, to worry he wouldn’t be good at doing hair and to train himself.
“Now that you’ve got pigtails down, you’re working on braids?”
With his lips pressed together, he dipped his chin, gesturing to the doll. “Clearly, I need more practice.”
“You can practice on me,” I said, taking out my scrunchie and letting my hair down.
His eyes went wide. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I’m eating your snacks and watching your TV.” I settled on the floor in front of him and hit the Power button on the remote. “Braid away.”
He hesitated, but eventually he slid over and bracketed my shoulders with his legs. I hadn’t thought about the, um, intimacy of this position until we were in it, but it was too late to get up now.
“You sure?” he asked, his tone low, as he loosely gathered my hair.
I nodded, though I was already regretting the offer.
At the warmth of his fingers lightly trailing along my neck, up around the shell of my ear, I shuddered.
It was more physical contact than I’d had in a long time.
“Did I hurt you??”
I turned gently, taking in his panicked face.
“Totally fine. Sorry. Just getting comfortable.” I shifted, took a sip from my water bottle and gave him a thumbs-up.
For a moment, he seemed frozen behind me, but I didn’t dare turn around again. Eventually, he ran a brush through my hair, gently tugging it to the ends. The sensation was foreign—I couldn’t remember the last time someone brushed my hair for me—but with each stroke, I relaxed a bit. It wasn’t all that different from going to Becca’s salon for a trim.
Or maybe it was. Becca was professional and fast, and Noah was slowly brushing each strand with care, gathering the hair, sectioning it, and gently braiding it.
“Can I try a few smaller braids?” he asked.
I nodded and inhaled sharply. I was doing my best to distract myself by stacking blocks for Tess to violently knock over, but it wasn’t helping.
His hands were clumsy, but he was so focused and gentle. The tenderness made my heart ache.
“You’re a really good dad.”
“Doesn’t feel that way.”
Tess crawled into my lap now, getting snuggly and staring at the TV, where Moira Rose was wearing a platinum blond wig and a fur hat.
Contentment bloomed in my chest. It was accompanied by a hint of unease, due to the hot guy braiding my hair and leaning in so closely I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. Unease or not, it felt like I was in the right place with the right people.
This type of tranquility had been rare in my life. I’d always felt like an outsider in my own family and then I’d been isolated in an unhappy marriage.
But with every passing moment, anxiety about today’s meeting crept back in.
I couldn’t lose focus. I’d come too far to have everything derailed by Denis Huxley.
“Okay. I think I’m done,” Noah said proudly.
I patted the back of my head with my free hand. My hair had been divided into three sections, each braided separately. They seemed normal enough. Walking around with three braids may be a bit unorthodox, but I didn’t care.
“Not bad,” I said, handing him a sleepy Tess and standing up to stretch.
It was only then I noticed the circles under his eyes and his disheveled hair. Caregiving, even for the most perfect baby ever, was a big job.
I reached for Tess and pulled her back into my arms.
“I’ll take the first shift.” Swaying, I rubbed circles on her tiny back. “Go sleep in my bed. You look wiped.”
He opened his mouth, but the noise that echoed through the small space came from behind me.
The eerie voice said, “I like warm hugs.”
I spun around.
“It’s Olaf,” Noah said, his tone was rough and full of exhaustion.
Tess lifted her little head from my shoulder and whimpered. “Laf.”
Noah retrieved the snowman stuffy from the couch and brought it over. She practically lunged for it, and when she had it in her arms, she cuddled it close, tucking it beneath her chin. There it repeated several unsettling phrases.
With a step back, Noah put his hands on his hips. “I have my mom to thank for that one.”
“The voice,” I whispered as Tess got comfortable. “It’s unnerving.”
He nodded. “Yup. It was driving me insane, so I hid it. But Tess screamed for an hour. She’s obsessed with the damn thing.”
Eventually she settled, and while I wandered the apartment, soothing her, Noah made a cup of tea for me.
“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you?” he asked as he set the mug on the end table.
I settled on the couch and shifted Tess so I could hold her with one arm. No, I did not. The thought of rehashing the Denis debacle made me want to vomit, so I pivoted.
“Think we should talk about…” I inhaled, looking into those deep blue eyes, garnering my nerve. “This fake dating arrangement?”
“Sure, what’s up?” He arched a brow. “Like I said, I’m all in, whatever you need. Tess and I are on the case.”
I shifted so I was facing him. Why did this feel so strange? Noah was my friend. I could be honest with him. I’d just let the guy braid my hair, for God’s sake.
“Don’t you think we need rules?”
“If you want ’em, sure. Let’s make ’em. But I’ll warn you. I’m not great with rules. Reminds me too much of school. I prefer to feel things out.”
God, he was exasperating sometimes. I tensed, causing Tess to stir. “You can’t feel me out.”
He raised one brow and burst into laughter.
“Perfect example. Rule number one,” I said. “Don’t flirt with me. You do it all the time.”
He shuffled to the doorframe and stretched lazily, like this wasn’t the world’s most painful conversation.
“There’s baby drool on my shirt and probably in my hair,” he said. “I can’t flirt.”
“Bullshit. You could flirt covered in moose shit. You’re doing it right now. Are you flexing?”
“Yes,” he admitted easily.
This man. He was shameless. Normally I enjoyed a bit of light flirting, but if this was going to work, we had to create clear boundaries.
Despite the way my body temperature rose, I affected a chastising expression. “Stop it.”
“I can’t.” He shrugged, still gripping the top of the doorframe. The move caused his T-shirt to ride up and expose a strip of taut abdomen. “It’s involuntary. Like a muscle spasm. It’s my natural reaction when a hot woman yells at me. You’re lucky I don’t have a boner.”
“Ugh, stop it.” I slumped against the couch, silently praying he couldn’t make out the way my cheeks were flushing. “Never say boner in my presence again. What is wrong with you?”
He chuckled. “Sass is a big turn-on for me.”
“Stop talking about turn-ons.” I wanted to rip my hair out.
“You’re my friend. I thought we promised to be honest with each other.”
“Yes.” I sighed. “But let’s stick to normal stuff. I don’t care about your dick.”
“It’s an important part of me, Vic.” He was grinning from ear to ear.
He was lucky I was holding a sleeping baby and a creepy Olaf doll. Otherwise, I’d slap him.
“As my fake girlfriend, you should care.”
“Spoiler alert, I don’t.”
“Okay, then.” He resumed his stretching, wearing a smirk that made it clear he was annoying me on purpose.
“You’re flexing again.” I was sweating now. Dammit. I forced a scowl to my face and huffed. “You look like you’re posing for a body-building competition.”
He feigned innocence, clearly enjoying learning how to push my buttons. “I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’m stretching. I can’t help it that I’m very strong and tall.” He tipped back, and his T-shirt rode up again, this time exposing several inches of toned stomach muscles and dark hair. “And manly,” he added, releasing his hold on the doorframe and striking a pose that emphasized the size of his biceps.
The man was ridiculous. But as he turned to one side and flexed again, the dam burst. All the frustration eating away at me after my shitty meeting and the exhaustion weighing me down flooded out of me in one big wave, and I started to laugh.
He joined in, his chuckles making me feel lighter.
It was all so absurd. At what point had my life taken such an insane turn?
Noah collapsed on the couch, a hand on his abdomen as he continued to laugh. I fell into a fit of giggles, tears streaming down my face.
He handed me a box of tissues, and I dabbed at my wet cheeks, even as the laughter and tears continued. Eventually, I’d exorcised all my demons, and I slumped back in exhaustion.
I’d never experienced a moment like this. I’d never understood how laughing could be stress relief. But Noah had known what I needed the moment I walked through the door.
He got up and did a silly dance, his arms flailing.
I scoffed. “What are you doing now?”
“A victory celebration.” He pumped his fist dramatically. “I made you laugh. Usually, when you laugh, it’s at Schitt’s Creek or Tess. But today it was me. Even if I had to act like a complete idiot to pull it off, I feel like I accomplished something significant.”
Significant? This man was so invested in making me laugh that he’d gone through all of that? My stomach flipped as I assessed him.
“You make me work for it. It takes effort to earn your smiles and your laughter.”
The stomach flip quickly turned into a lurch. This was another prime example of why I was difficult. Why I was too much.
“Yeah.” I sighed, settling back again. “I know. I’m too serious. Too intense.”
Frowning, he dropped to his knees in front of me. “You misunderstand me.” He wrapped his hands around my calves. “You may not be easy, but that doesn’t mean you’re not worth the work.”