Chapter 18
Game On
Noah
I lay in an empty bed, staring at the ceiling in the light of the morning and wondering what today had in store.
Two nights ago I’d thought—hoped, dreamed—that things with Jules would be heating up.
I mean, they had on the porch and once we’d headed to bed, I’d assumed that would continue.
Unfortunately, she’d gotten a call from Sue around seven, pleading for her to tag in on some last-minute tax prep.
She’d sent me big eyes of apology and a promise that Tuesday night would be different.
Tuesday and Wednesday had been filled with the minutiae of learning everything I needed to do between my parents’ passing, the service on Friday, and everything that would come after.
Jules had alternated between helping Mary and me, working on taxes, finding time to get more words on the page for her book, and making sure to take care of herself or Sue would personally hold her accountable.
Mary and I were able to get many things crossed off my to-do list while also making sure Jules didn’t get so far in the zone on either of her jobs that she forgot to take care of herself.
I’d watched the woman, which was no hardship.
I had a strong feeling that if left to her own devices, she’d sit down at her laptop to work and only stop typing when she completely ran out of steam, even if that meant she’d go hungry, thirsty, or end up with a sore neck and back.
More than that, I enjoyed doing things for her.
She was so grateful for even the smallest of gestures, it made me want to do more.
I’d looked forward each day to the moment we could go to bed, and then one wrench and then another was thrown in the works.
Tuesday Addie had a nightmare. Ivy and Jake had talked to her, but she was convinced I needed her.
We’d texted back and forth, and our solution was an extra-long FaceTime past her bedtime and mine.
It had done the job, and I got to see her little blond head sacked out next to Jake as he and I had teamed up to tell her a Little People story, a tradition he’d had growing up that he shared with Addie.
Since she loved them so much, he had taught me his tricks, though this had been our first joint story.
By the time I’d finished and headed to bed, Jules had been sacked out. She’d been up late on Monday, doing the work for Sue, then ran herself ragged all day even though I’d tried to ensure she found time to rest.
Instead of the day ending the way I’d fantasized, I’d stood in the door, watching her sleep like some creeper, her hair spilling over the pillow.
I noted that, similar to the nights before, she slept with the duvet pulled up to her chin and her feet kicked out of the covers at the bottom.
It made me smile and wonder what else I could learn about this woman the longer I spent with her.
Each day I uncovered more, and every quirk or fact learned just made me greedy for more.
I’d slid in next to her and was hit with the notion that lying in the same bed next to her didn’t feel anything but right. Like, I’d slept next to the woman for three nights and didn’t want to think of sleeping alone.
I needed to slow this train down. Was it the current circumstances that had accelerated whatever this was, or was it just the two of us?
My conversation with Addie last night reminded me of my priorities, but didn’t I have room in my life for Addie and Jules?
And yet, if I did, how did I go about making sure I didn’t fall down on the job of parenting ever again?
Wednesday had been a lather, rinse, repeat of Tuesday, but I crashed out when it was time to go to bed. There was only so much energy I had in me and then it was gone.
Thursday morning dawned, and a glance at my cell told me it was still early.
I wondered why Jules was already up—we had nothing on the docket for the day.
The plans were in place for the visitation the following day.
I’m sure it wasn’t as elaborate as they would have planned for themselves.
It was understated and elegant, Mary made sure.
But beyond that, I didn’t need a drawn-out affair that made me have to spend any extra time with the toxic people my parents had surrounded themselves with.
I was dreading the next morning, but knew it was a necessary step to moving on.
And, as Jules had mentioned and Mary had agreed, moving on for me would likely need to be processed with the help of a good therapist. The baggage I was carrying was more than a carry-on.
Yesterday Barry and I had talked to my parents’ staff and explained what the plan was for them moving forward. Barry was reaching out to a real estate agent he knew as well as an auction house up here that would help me sort out what I wanted to keep and sell.
Honestly, there wasn’t much here that held great memories for me, so I just wanted to wash my hands of all of it.
However, Mary and Jules had asked me not to be hasty, though a small part of me wanted to bury my head in the sand and ignore any it all.
Irresponsible maybe, but it was a desire I was working to ignore.
We’d brainstormed together, and the current plan was to go through the house, selecting the few items I knew I wanted to keep.
Then Mary was going to work with the estate folks on my behalf and ensure we were in contact by video when they were getting the sale together. I’d likely come back up for that.
All of it seemed exhausting, but with the help of Jules and Mary along with the advice of Barry, it was coming together. But that brought me back to Jules. I pulled on some joggers and a tee and headed out to find my missing bed partner.
The house was silent. Mary wouldn’t get here for about twenty more minutes, which would be seven.
There were no signs of life as I made my way downstairs to the kitchen.
Once I entered it, I looked beyond the counters and found her exactly where I’d suspected.
She was bundled up on the chaise on the deck overlooking the lake.
It looked like I was about half an hour too late for sunrise, but I wasn’t entirely sure Jules had seen it either—her fingers were currently flying as she typed out what I was assuming her novel on her MacBook.
While she had a blanket around her shoulders and across her lap, it still looked chilly.
I glanced at the coffeemaker and saw that it hadn’t been started.
I got that going and jogged back upstairs to grab one of my hoodies.
Back in the kitchen, I toasted up an everything bagel, slathering chive-and-onion cream cheese on it as she’d done yesterday.
Once the coffee was ready, I doctored it up and headed out the French door.
Jules was so far into the zone that she didn’t seem to register my presence on the porch.
I put the coffee and bagel on the empty table next to her.
As much as I didn’t want to disturb her flow, I could see one arm protruding from the blanket as she typed, and it was covered in goose bumps. That would just not do.
“Babe,” I whispered. No reaction. God, her focus when she wrote was sexy as hell.
And I never thought that would be something that turned me on, but here we were.
“Jules.” I spoke louder this time. Still nada.
I leaned forward and lightly tapped her shoulder.
She started and looked up at me, blinking several times.
“Noah?” she said in confusion.
This woman. I wanted to wrap her up and take her back to bed, but I also knew she’d struggled to get into this book, and that didn’t seem to be the truth anymore.
“Hey, babe, I thought you might be cold.” I held out my hoodie, and she pulled it on with a sigh of relief.
I pointed to the coffee and bagel. “I also brought you something to give you some fuel as you write.”
She looked from the side table to me, her gaze becoming warm. “Thank you,” she whispered.
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head as I racked my brain, trying to pinpoint if I’d ever felt like this about someone else.
My feelings for Jules ranged from wanting to spend unending days in bed, having what I knew would be amazing sex, to pure affection as I watched her simply move through her day, to ease and comfort as we sat and talked.
This was new. I hadn’t dated a ton of women in my life—growing up, I had zero desire to inflict my parents on anyone.
In college there were some short relationships, but nothing long term.
There was Ivy, but that was clearly stronger as a friendship than anything more, we were just in denial at first. And then for the past six years I’d had other work at the forefront of importance: my job in Africa and being a dad.
But I’d never had the ease of friendship along with the heat of something more with the same person.
And somehow I knew this was a rare treasure and needed to be treated as such.
“Keep at it. I’m going to get some things done inside.” I started to head back to the door.
“Are you sure? Is there anything I can do to help?” Jules asked, her teeth coming to bite her lower lip once again. I noted she tended to do that when she was uncertain.
“Positive.” I stepped back into the house before she could find a reason to stop writing. As I closed the door, I saw her head bend and her fingers begin flying across the keyboard once again. I leaned against the wall, watching her for a moment before I heard a throat clearing behind me.
“Hey, Mary,” I said without turning.
“So tell me about Ms. Jules,” Mary said, her voice heavy with amusement.
I looked to her. “What’s so funny?”
She shrugged, then began to pull out ingredients from the fridge. Looked like I was getting my omelet today. “I just used to wonder what you’d be like when you fell head over heels in love. Now I know.”