Chapter 15
INEZ
15
When I hear Nolan awkwardly clear his throat from the doorway, I glance up from where I’m separating the laundry into piles.
“Uh, are we low on detergent?” he asks stiffly.
I bring my eyes to the shelf where three brand new bottles of his favorite laundry washing liquid sit. He’s also got a box of the powdered stuff as well as a huge jar of detergent pods.
Clearly, we’re not low on detergent and he knows it.
But Stella’s at school and this is the weird tango Nolan and I find ourselves engaged in each time we’re in the house alone.
I’ve been keeping my distance from him lately, and he’s been going out of his way to make conversation with me. He’s been doing that a lot over the past couple of days, actually. It would be cute if I weren’t still so angry with him.
“We’re good on detergent,” I say simply, then turn my attention to loading the washing machine.
He shuffles on his feet, lingering by the door a moment longer. “The detergent I use is ultra-mild. Stella had an allergic reaction to the fragranced stuff one time when she was a baby, so I’ve used a gentle option since then. But I can pick up the regular kind for you today when I go to the store.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I respond curtly. “I won’t be here much longer anyway.”
The second I say that, Nolan’s urgent footsteps barrel through the doorway. “What do you mean, you won’t be here much longer?”
I throw him a glance over my shoulder. “A few places became available for rent. I’ll be checking them out this week.”
I’m beginning to think it might be time for me to leave town, find an opportunity outside of Starlight Falls. I just need somewhere to stay until I make a final decision.
“Inez, you can’t go,” he declares. Like he’s the boss of me.
I turn and frown at him. “Nolan, I’ve been living out of my suitcase and taking advantage of your hospitality for weeks now. I’m really grateful for your help, but it’s becoming uncomfortable. I’m ready to stand on my own two feet again.”
And just like that, Nolan Brighton is having a mini-meltdown on me. “You’ve seen the tabloid article, haven’t you? Everyone in town is talking about it. Some guy is going around, digging up information on you. That could turn dangerous.”
“And that’s not your burden to bear,” I retort with a shrug, trying not to outwardly bristle at the reminder of the embarrassing tabloid story. “I’ll figure it out.” Besides, I doubt that reporter guy is dangerous. He’s just chasing a paycheck, eager to satisfy the reality show fans who are curious about where I ran off to.
“You’re being unreasonable. It’s not safe for you.”
“Newsflash, Brighton—this wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve found myself in an ‘iffy’ situation. You don’t have to rearrange your life for my sake. Thank you for letting me stay in your home but from here on out, I’ll figure it out.” He opens his mouth to argue, but I hold up a hand. “I’ll. Figure. It. Out.”
We have a momentary staredown and I stand my ground even as those magnetic blue eyes try to break me.
Staying angry with him is never an easy feat. It really doesn’t help that he’s wearing one of his sexy lumberjack shirts today. With the sleeves rolled up, revealing those sinewy forearms that are folded across his wide chest.
When he sees that this is a losing battle, Nolan turns on his heel and marches out with a huff.
I feel a sharp bite of disappointment in my gut. I know that I all but told him to leave me alone, but a part of me still wishes he’d put up more of a fight.
Gosh—I hate the part of me that aches for someone to fight for me. I’m a grown woman. Shouldn’t I be stronger than this?
When my clothes are washed and dried, I throw in a load for Stella and Nolan. It’s the least I can do while I’m living under their roof and eating up their food for free. As the washing machine does it’s thing, I take my clean clothes and head back to the home office.
I sit cross-legged on the couch, folding my laundry and listening to the ding-ding-ding of my phone. Those emails just keep coming in.
I really should leave. I should hop on the next train and leave this town. But something is holding me back and I don’t want to admit to myself what that something is.
Each time I’m alone with my thoughts, I’m brought back to the firmness of Nolan’s lips on mine. To the tug of his hands in my hair. To the heat of his body pressed against mine.
I can’t throw my whole life away over one single kiss. This is ridiculous.
Yet here I am. Sitting on Nolan’s tattered couch and casually folding laundry when a potential lawsuit and a world of legal obligations awaits me somewhere outside the limits of this small town.
Later in the afternoon, I’m still folding laundry and ruminating when there’s a knock on the office door.
I set my pile of folded T-shirts aside and open the door. Nolan is there, sweaty and flushed and frowning at me. “Comin’ through, Stargirl,” he mutters as he backs through the entryway.
He and Archer come into the office. Carrying a freaking three-door cedar brown wardrobe, wrapping foam and protective plastic clinging to the exterior. Before I can formulate a question, the brothers head back outside. A moment later, they’re back with a matching six-drawer dresser.
When Archer reads my perplexed expression, he smirks at me. “Outta the way, ‘Stargirl’.”
Bewildered, I scurry out of their path. “What is that?” I ask, pointing dumbly as the brothers arrange and rearrange the items and set things up just so.
“Furniture,” Nolan tosses matter-of-factly over his shoulder.
Smart ass.
“Okay…” I drag out. “I can see that it’s furniture. But why did you bring it here?”
“You said you’re tired of living out of your suitcase.” Mr. Exasperating shrugs. “So, voila—storage space.”
I’m getting a headache.
“Yes, I am tired of living out of my suitcase. That’s why I’m moving out,” I explain to him, real nice and slow so he understands me.
“No, you’re not,” is his light-hearted response.
“Nolan,” I grind out. “I’ve been here long enough. It’s starting to get weird. I feel unwelcome.”
He squints at me, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm. “I bought you a fucking dresser, Inez. Of course you’re welcome here.”
Why is he so difficult to reason with? My rage is rising and it’s rising fast. “The purchase of a dresser does not compensate for the fact that you’ve been treating me like shit since the night we kissed.”
Archer’s head snaps up. Nolan’s face goes red.
Ugh. My big mouth.
With a growl, my boss man from hell takes a commanding step toward me, it’s intimidating and exhilarating at the same time.
“Look, Inez. There’s some weird photographer following you around town. You’re staying with me. Where you’re safe.” He lifts my chin with his knuckle. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go get the mirror from the truck, so you can see how cute that pout looks on your face.”
“Arghhh!” I can’t help but yell out loud as Nolan marches off.
Archer doesn’t even have the decency to hide his chuckle.
“Not funny,” I grumble at the oldest Brighton brother. I fold my arms across my chest for good measure.
“I think it’s pretty funny.” Archer shrugs. “My brother’s an idiot, isn’t he?”
Immediately, I’m defensive. “Don’t you say that about him.” Because as irritating as Nolan is, he’s still my Nolan.
Bitch—you don’t have a Nolan.
See? I’ve lost my damn mind.
Archer clearly finds this all amusing. “Look—in my brother’s defense, sometimes us guys don’t know how to express that we care. It can be…difficult.”
I feel myself scowling. “That’s no excuse for how mean he’s been to me.”
I don’t deserve that. It’s not fair to me and I won’t allow it to happen. No matter how much I’m attracted to Nolan. And if he wants to keep being a shithead, he will definitely not be allowed to keep sticking his tongue down my throat whenever the heck he feels like it.
“Agreed.” Nolan’s big brother nods. “But here’s the thing.” He peeks over his shoulder to make sure the coast is still clear. “For men, it’s hard owning up to our feelings sometimes. Especially when we’re dealing with a woman who has no reason to feel the same way. A woman who’s far out of our league.” He tilts his head, keeping his voice low and conspiratorial. “To be clear, I’m saying that you’re far out of Nolan’s league. But trust me, he cares about you. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”
In all the years that I’ve known the ever-broody Archer Brighton, this is the most words he has ever said to me all at once. And I won’t lie—it’s a lot to process.
Why would Nolan think that I’m out of his league? That man is everything a woman could want. He’s loyal. Responsible. Protective. Hotter than hellfire. And he puts his boxers in the laundry hamper instead of dropping them on the floor.
Any sane woman would toss her panties and spread her legs for him in a heartbeat. No way he thinks I am out of his league.
“I’m not buying it,” I whisper back.
Archer’s shoulders pop upward then they drop. “That’s on you.”
Right then, Nolan enters the room, biceps bulging as he carries in a huge mirror and leans it against the wall. Archer and I quickly fall silent.
Brushing his palms together, Nolan turns to face his brother and me. “What are you two talking about?” His eyes darken with jealousy and suspicion as they pingpong between us.
“Nothing,” Archer says quickly. “Go grab your toolbox so we can get this mirror attached to the dresser and I can get out of here.”
“What’s the rush?” Nolan asks him. “We’ve got all afternoon.”
“I’m trying to convince Layla that she needs an extra kiddie gate in her living room to keep Sky out of trouble. I want to head down to the hardware store to pick up some supplies.”
Nolan’s eyebrow hikes up as a knowing look comes over his face. “How do you know what Layla needs in her living room?”
I find myself snickering. Archer and Layla are neighbors, but over the years, I’ve noticed him sneaking not-so-neighborly peeks at her a time or two at The North Node. For years, she used to be in a relationship with some toxic douchebag who was horrible to her. But now that Layla is a single mother, is the towering lumberjack finally ready to make his move?
Rolling his eyes, Archer picks up a piece of the wrapping foam and tosses it at his brother’s head. “Don’t fucking start. Sky pulled Layla’s curtains right off the window frame the other day. She asked me to come help her put them back up. That’s how I know how much trouble the little man has been getting into. Is that a good enough answer for you?”
Nolan lifts a shoulder. “I guess.”
Archer huffs. “Now go get the damn toolbox.”
I stand back and watch the Brighton brothers work together, attaching the mirror to the dresser. The whole time, Archer’s words wrestle around with my common sense. He cares about you. He just doesn’t know how to show it.
That’s not good enough for me.
After all the love I grew up lacking, I won’t entertain a man who can’t even tell me how he feels. I want him to say it. I need that. I deserve that.
I want the man I’m crazy about to tell me he’s crazy about me. Every single day. That can’t be too much to ask, can it?
And as for things with Nolan and me? I’ve overstayed my welcome here. It’s time for me to go.
Before long, the gorgeous tri-fold mirror is all set up and Archer is ready to leave.
“Bye, Archer.” I smile at the big lumberjack.
He responds with a salute and a smirk that says, Think about what we talked about. “Bye, Stargirl.”
“Oh, stop it!” I hiss after him and he belly-laughs.
Grunting, Nolan gives his brother a shove in the direction of the front door. “Thanks for helping me out, asshole. Now, get out.”
“You owe me a fucking beer,” Archer teases.
“You’ve been drinking for free at my bar for the last six years, so I won’t even dignify that with a response,” Nolan says as he walks Archer out.
A moment later, Nolan is back in the office and we’re alone.
“You think this dresser will be big enough?” Hands fisted on his hips, his eyes travel to the fresh laundry piled up on the couch, then to my suitcase, then to the shopping bags from my shopping spree a little while back.
I draw my fingertips along the smooth wood finish of the dresser. It’s a sturdy antique piece and it’s so nice.
“Nolan, it’s a beautiful piece of furniture. But I won’t be here to use it.”
The man studies my face for a long moment. Then he sighs heavily. “Inez, I’m sorry that I’ve been weird with you lately. But I want you to stay.”
“Why…?” I ask, my heart begging, praying that he’ll give me the words I need.
My tummy twists itself into a knot as I wait a long moment for him to respond.
“There are a million reasons why,” he begins softly. “To be safe from the reporter guy. To save money on rent. Because Stella likes having you around.” Then he steps closer, his eyes not leaving mine. “But putting those million reasons aside, the biggest reason is….I’ve been much happier since you’ve been here.” He drops his head and chuckles with boyish embarrassment. “I know I probably sound like a totally selfish asshole when I say that, but it’s the truth.”
And my heart…oh, my heart. It does some type of acrobatic move in my chest I never realized it was capable of.
Still, on the outside, I try to come off as tough. “So it’s all about you, huh?”
He nods in confirmation. “It’s all about me. It’s completely. Totally. One hundred percent about me,” he says ironically. He reaches out and gently takes my hand. “Please stay.”
He looks at me like that and the iron gate I built around me is melting like butter. Every ounce of my resistance is breaking down.
God—this wasn’t the plan. Not at all.
I’m supposed to be searching for the real thing. A husband. A family. A happy-ever-after. How the hell am I supposed to find any of that when my heart is invested in this strange friend-tuation-ship with Nolan Brighton?
Still, I can’t say ‘no’ when he’s looking at me like that.
“Fine,” I say after turning the situation over in my head half a million times. “I’ll stay, but I have conditions.”
I can see the restrained excitement on Nolan’s face and it gives me a fluttery feeling in my chest. “What are your conditions?”
“Stop punishing me over the mistake we both made. That’s a fucking dick move, Nolan.”
He flinches. “You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry, Inez. I promise I won’t do it again. Anything else?”
I lay down my next condition. “No more flirting. And definitely no more hooking up. Because you obviously don’t know how to be cool about it.”
The pained look persists on his face. “Okay. That’s a fair condition,” he says eventually.
I stick out a hand to him. “We have a deal, then. We’re just friends.”
Nolan’s grimace deepens and I pretend that I don’t notice. “Yeah. We’re ‘just’ friends.”