Chapter 8
Jesse spent the day cleaning the bar like a woman possessed. It was the only way to keep herself from marching down to the lumberyard and demanding that Noah tell her what he’d seen and how Mac Hudson was involved.
Why was she even worrying? It had to be some sort of mix-up. Noah probably remembered the wrong night. Or the wrong time. Or maybe it was a simple case of mistaken identity. Something would prove that Noah hadn’t seen her dad the night that Victoria and Tegan left town.
Until then, there was no use in driving herself crazy.
She managed to stay busy until the clock hit five o’clock, but even then she didn’t rush over to Noah’s.
Instead, she took a long hot shower and changed into a pair of Bermuda shorts and a sleeveless sweater before walking to the Canton Bait Shop.
The small convenience store sold more alcohol and cigarettes than bait, but they’d never bothered to change the name.
Grabbing a six-pack of the locally brewed IPA, she slowly strolled along the riverbank, ignoring the muggy air and swarms of mosquitoes as she took a few minutes to simply appreciate the view.
Since returning to Canton, she’d been distracted by one thing after another.
Not just dealing with the bar and her father’s death certificate, but the unexpected suspicion that Victoria was a fraud.
She’d spent very little time appreciating her return to the place she’d called home for nineteen years.
What if she never came back?
It would be nice to have a few good memories to take with her.
It was close to six thirty when she knocked on Noah’s door.
She judged that was plenty of time to lock up the lumberyard and drive the few blocks home.
Her suspicion proved right as Noah pulled open the door, his hair damp from his shower and his work clothes replaced by a casual pair of khaki shorts and a camo T-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest.
The scent of warm male skin and soap rushed over her as he motioned her to enter the house.
“Hey Jesse.”
“Are you busy?” she asked even as she stepped over the threshold. She wasn’t going to give him the chance to change his mind.
“Nope.”
“Good.” She raised her arm. “I brought the beer.”
He arched his brows. “My favorite. Lucky guess?”
“It’s my secret talent as a bartender,” she told him. “I can predict what a customer is going to order as soon as they walk up to the bar.”
Jesse didn’t add that she’d spent enough time in the Tap Room to know that all the guys in town drank the same IPA when her father had it in stock. It hadn’t taken much talent to assume that it was still a favorite.
He grabbed the six-pack from her and turned to lead her down a short hallway.
“I’ll get us glasses. I should have a couple in the freezer.”
They entered a narrow kitchen that looked as if it’d been remodeled in the fifties with white painted cabinets and linoleum floors. It was also small enough to feel uncomfortably cramped. Or maybe it was just that Noah consumed more than his fair share of space.
Noah pulled out two tall glasses and filled them with a quick tilt of his wrist that kept the foam to a thin layer.
“Impressive,” Jesse murmured as he handed her a frosty glass. “If you ever decide to change careers, give me a call.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Taking a deep drink, Noah watched her over the rim. Then, lowering his glass, he asked the question that had no doubt been on the tip of his tongue since she’d knocked on his door. “Is there a reason for your visit?”
Jesse leaned against the counter, taking a small sip. She wanted a clear head for this conversation.
“First, it’s a thank-you for agreeing to fix up the bar on such short notice. You’re a lifesaver.”
Noah grunted. “Hardly a lifesaver.”
“You are to me,” she insisted. “And secondly, I want to apologize for not agreeing to get together for a beer when you asked. That was rude.”
“Not rude.” He polished off his beer and poured a second one. Had it been a long day for him? In the dim light that crept through the small kitchen window, she could see shadows beneath his eyes. “I get it. You’re not here to socialize.”
Guilt stabbed through her. God, he was such a nice guy, and she was a bitch for taking advantage of his kindness. But she was going to do it.
She had to know.
“Getting the bar sold is my first priority, along with figuring out the paperwork to get my dad’s death certificate,” she agreed. “But I’m also hoping to close the door on my past.”
His eyes narrowed. “Your father’s disappearance?”
She nodded. “That’s part of it.”
“Let’s go outside.”
With a jerky motion, Noah turned to pull open the back door and stepped out of the kitchen. Jesse followed him onto the wooden deck. Was he angry? Disappointed?
Stepping onto the worn planks, Jesse’s heavy discomfort was thankfully forgotten as she caught sight of the view.
“Okay. Wow. Now I get it,” she murmured as her gaze swept over the manicured lawn stretching toward the distant lake that sparkled in the sunlight.
Flagstones carved a path from the deck toward the lake, framed by ancient trees that spread their limbs to offer a perfect tunnel of shade.
Best of all, there was a high fence that gave the property a sense of privacy from the neighbors.
It looked like something you would find in a fancy mansion, not an old farmhouse.
“Get what?” Noah demanded.
“Why you refuse to sell this place.” She set down her glass on the picnic table to move toward the edge of the deck. “This view is amazing.”
“Yeah.” The planks squeaked in protest as Noah joined her. “It was one of the reasons I chose the house. The backyard is over three acres. It goes all the way past the lake and over the hill to an access road that no one uses.”
“No wonder Reese Skylar is itching to get her hands on it.”
Noah downed the rest of his beer in one gulp before setting the empty glass on the railing. He wiped the foam from his lips with the back of his hand.
“That woman puts a price tag on everything she sees.”
“Including you?”
He hesitated. Not because he didn’t understand what she was asking, but because he was deciding whether to confirm her suspicions.
“We had a brief relationship,” he abruptly admitted. “With the emphasis on ‘brief.’”
Jesse turned to face him. “Since she’s still appearing on your doorstep, I assume she wasn’t ready for it to be over?”
“Who knows what she wanted.” Noah made a sound of disgust. “I thought at first it was me, but while we were dating she was always too busy to go out, and when we did manage to spend some time together she wandered around this property, pointing out hidden assets that would give me the most bang for the buck when I decided to sell. Seriously, I wasn’t sure she was dating me or my house. ”
Hard to believe any woman could think of anything but Noah when she was in his company, but then again, Reese had struck her as someone who knew exactly where she was going, and if you got in her way, there was a good chance you’d be bulldozed.
“When people are crazy focused on their career they can forget there are things that are more important than money.”
“I admire ambition, but it’s not great for the old ego to be in bed with your lover and have them spend more time whispering in your ear about return on investment than how much they desire you.”
Against her will, the memory of lying in Parker’s arms the night before she’d left Chicago seared through her mind. She’d still been trembling from the aftermath of their lovemaking and wallowing in a glow of happiness when it’d been destroyed by Parker’s whispered words.
At last. It’s finally our turn, babe. No more waiting. We’re gonna have it all.
It wasn’t so much what he’d said, but the fierce anticipation in his voice. As if their current situation was unbearable. Not the most pleasant insinuation when they were snuggled in bed together.
“Yeah, ambition can spiral out of control,” she muttered.
Noah regarded her with a steady gaze. “That sounds personal. Are you talking about yourself ?”
“No. I have a job I can take or leave. It’s a paycheck, not a career.” she admitted. “I suppose I was thinking about Parker. My boyfriend.”
“The one who wants you to buy him a nightclub?”
Had she said it like that? “Technically, it would be our nightclub.”
“Technically, it would be your nightclub, unless the boyfriend is ponying up some cash,” Noah insisted.
“He’s bringing the expertise.”
“I would say you have all the expertise you need and more. Mac was training you to take over the family business from the day you were born.”
“That’s true.” Everyone in town knew that Mac expected her to continue the family legacy.
“Is there a reason you don’t want to reopen the Tap Room?” he asked the obvious question. “That seems like the simplest solution.”
“I did consider the possibility.”
“But?”
“Parker convinced me that I would see him as an intruder. It’s been in my family for so long, I would resent him making any changes.”
Noah looked annoyed. “And you agreed?”
She had. At least at the time. Now the thought of selling the place was becoming painfully real. The ghosts had driven her away—ghosts that still lingered after all these years—but were they any more frightening than handing the keys to a stranger? Would she instead be haunted by regret?
She shook her head. It was too late for second thoughts. She’d made her decision.
“I’m ready to settle down with the man I love,” she forced herself to say.
“What about these?” He reached out to stroke a finger down her bare arm, lingering on the broken chains tattooed around her wrists. “I thought you wanted your freedom?”
Goose bumps tightened her skin at his light touch. “Dreams can change.”
“That’s your dream? To settle down?”
She frowned at the accusation in his tone. “I know it sounds boring—”