Chapter 21
Noah stood staring at the door after Grace walked out. His hand went to his cheek.
She kissed him.
Did that mean what he thought it might mean?
That was crazy.
Why hadn't he stopped her? Why did he just allow her to leave?
He took two steps to the door, then stopped.
Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he texted.
You can't just kiss me and leave.
He hit send quickly, then grinned, looking at the door. He wanted to open it and go running after her, but if she truly needed to leave, he wasn't going to embarrass her with a confrontation.
He wanted to stare at his phone and just wait for her answer to come back in, but he had things to deliver, and... Would she like to help? Now that he'd confessed that he was the Secret Saint, there was no reason why he couldn't ask her if she wanted to.
If she texted back, he was going to invite her.
Grinning, he took a step, and something crackled under his foot.
Had he dropped something out of the bags? He usually worked in the dark, and he had been known to accidentally forget a bag or leave something behind. He tried to be very careful, but mistakes like that happened when he was trying very hard to be secretive.
He bent down, seeing something that glowed white in the dim light on the floor. His fingers wrapped around it just as his phone buzzed in his other hand.
He didn't pay too much attention to the envelope, although it felt like a money envelope, as he glanced at his phone.
I'm sorry. Maybe you didn't want me to.
He stared at the text. What did she mean? That he didn't want her to leave? Or she didn't want to kiss him?
Oh, I definitely wanted you to kiss me. Although you missed.
He grinned as he sent that back. Although there was a tight swirl in his stomach, because maybe he'd misread everything.
He fingered the envelope in his hand, barely noticing it as he stared at his phone.
He had told himself he was going to invite her to go with him if she texted him back, and she had. So, even though he could see that she was typing by the three little dots that were bouncing up and down, he sent another quick text.
Would you like to come deliver these with me?
He closed his eyes as he sent the text.
Please let her say yes. Please let her say yes.
His phone buzzed, and he opened one eye, glancing at it.
It was one word.
Yes.
He couldn't help it. He thought his face might crack from the huge smile that spread across it.
Come on back. I'll load up my truck.
I'm here.
He looked up, and there she was standing on the other side of the door.
He shoved the envelope in his back pocket, shoved his phone in the other, and hurried the two steps to the door, opening it up and letting her in.
"You came back."
What a lame thing to say. But he couldn't think of anything more intelligent.
"Yes. You asked me to."
"You kissed me."
She smiled and looked a little embarrassed.
"You didn't ask me to do that."
"It didn't occur to me to ask. Would you have said yes if I had?"
"I don't know. It seemed like a good thing to do at the time."
He laughed a bit, and honestly, it was all he could do not to step forward, wrap his arms around her, and kiss her properly, the way he all of a sudden longed to. That peck on the cheek was not nearly enough.
But, he didn't want to push her too hard and too fast. She had kissed him on the cheek and had rocked his world, but that didn't mean that she was ready for as much as he was immediately.
"I can help you carry things out."
"Just the bags on the floor."
She nodded, and they gathered up the bags, each of them taking several, and they were able to make it out to the truck in one trip. They set the bags in the back, and then he went over to her side and opened the door for her.
"Thank you," she said, glancing at him with a shy look as she went by him to get in.
"My pleasure," he said. Meaning every word.
As he walked around, he remembered the envelope in his pocket and pulled it out.
As he got in the truck, he used the dome light to look at it before he slammed his door shut.
"I found this on the floor."
He twisted it around and saw there was writing on the outside.
"Do you mind if I turn the light on again?"
"No, go right ahead," she said, seeming to be interested, but not overly curious.
He flicked the switch, and the dome light shone dimly above them. "Furnace." He read aloud. He glanced at Grace, whose eyes were on the envelope he held in his hand.
"Furnace?" he said as he opened it up and pulled out a huge wad of cash.
"Maybe the Secret Saint found you after all," Grace said, and then her eyes got wide. "Except you are the Secret Saint."
"Yeah." He counted the money quickly and then said, "It's almost exactly enough to cover it.
But I know there wasn't anything on the floor earlier.
I was back and forth across it a good bit, and the only person to come in was.
.. You." He glanced up at her, and then his eyes narrowed. "Did you rob a bank tonight?"
She snorted, and he had to grin.
"No. I promise you, I did not rob a bank."
He felt the wheels in his mind turn slowly, but they were turning. "But you brought this, didn't you?"
"Yes?" she said, and she seemed concerned. Maybe she thought he was going to be angry.
Was he?
"Why didn't you hand it to me?" he asked. And then he realized what must've happened. She had dropped it when she had kissed him.
"Wait. Never mind about that. Did you only kiss me to distract me so I wouldn't notice that you brought money and dropped it on the floor?"
Oh boy. That made his chest feel empty and hot.
He had thought she liked him. He had thought she felt the same way about him that he felt about her.
But... She hadn't kissed his lips, she hadn't wanted to touch them.
She had only been using the kiss as a decoy.
He knew he should be happy about the money, but he had gone from excited that she might like him to devastated that she had only been kissing him so he wouldn't notice what she was doing on the side.
It had definitely worked.
"Noah?" she asked softly, her concerned eyes looking into his.
"You don't really like me like that, do you?" he asked, and he wished the words wouldn't have come out of his mouth. He already knew she didn't, and he had already embarrassed himself enough.
"I don't know," she said. "Yes?"
But she didn't sound sure. It sounded more like a question than a statement.
"So did you or didn't you kiss me to distract me so I wouldn't notice that you dropped money on the floor to pay for my furnace?"
Then he closed his eyes. Why wasn't he just being grateful? Why wasn't he on his knees thanking her? Why was he giving her a hard time because she didn't have the feelings he thought she should?
"I guess it was a distraction. I didn't plan it. But I wanted to. Kiss you, I mean. If that means anything. I wouldn't mind doing it again sometime. Only, I kind of would like it if you kissed me back."
He stared at her. That wasn't what he was expecting her to say. He'd already condemned her in his mind, and it took a little while for her words to pierce through, so he actually heard and understood.
"Really?" he said.
She nodded.
All right, one side of his mouth kicked up, and everything that had been wrong felt like it all settled back down and was just right.
"Okay, maybe we could do that at some point," he said.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just kissed you and run away. And you're right. I did do it a little bit to distract you, but only because I wanted to—kiss you, that is. I just—I guess everything is a little bit crazy for me right now and I don't know exactly how I feel. And—"
"It's okay. I thought you were doing it to deceive me, and I guess I was going to get angry about that. But not necessarily—probably I was just as upset that I thought you liked me the way I liked you, and I was bitterly disappointed to find out you didn't."
"I do. I like you a lot. I've never met anyone like you. Someone that I admire and look up to and... I feel safe and comfortable with you. Does that make sense?"
"I don't know if it makes sense, but I feel more confident when you're with me. I like having you beside me, because I know that you're going to do everything that you can to help and support me. Which was why the idea that you'd kiss me to deceive me was so hard."
His heart had finally settled down a little, and he felt like he could breathe again.
She seemed to understand what he was saying, and she looked contrite.
"I wouldn't have wanted to make you think that. I'm sorry. It just seemed like a really good idea, and I think I was looking for an excuse to kiss you anyway."
"You don't need an excuse," he said, grinning. Boy, she definitely did not need an excuse.
They smiled at each other for a moment before he turned back and started the truck. "If I don't want to have you out all night, we better get started on this."
"I wanted to thank you for asking me to go. I really enjoy helping people. Teaching the kids was so much fun, and it just really gives you a good feeling inside to feel like you're making a difference for someone."
"I know. I agree with you completely. I think sometimes as humans we have trouble letting go of our dreams, the things we think we want.
But when God can gently pry our fingers up and shake out of our grasp the things we cling to so tightly, and give us other things to do, things that actually matter in eternity, we are so much more happy and satisfied. "
"Well, you're definitely right about Him needing to pry my fingers up, because I wouldn't have let go of my career if it hadn't been for Him."
"Do you think you'll go back?" he asked, feeling kind of casual. But then he realized that it was a question that held a lot of meaning and the potential to affect him greatly.
"I don't know. I guess I've always planned on going back and hadn't considered not. But... I could stay in a town like this."
"Could you live at the poverty level with a music shop owner who doesn't even have enough money to fix his furnace?"
It just occurred to him that his pride should probably be insulted or something, that she was having to pay for an ordinary repair that he should be more than capable of providing for himself.
Of course there was the extenuating circumstance where his sibling had borrowed his emergency fund, but still... If he was the man, he should provide.
"Yes. That doesn't sound the slightest bit off-putting. In fact it sounds exactly like what I would like to do."
"Money makes things easier," he said, and he tried to sound casual, not panicked the way he was kind of feeling. After all, maybe he wasn't ready to have a wife if he couldn't support her.
"It does. I actually have a lot of money put back. Enough that I could live comfortably if I'm careful. I mean, I couldn't live extravagantly, but it would take care of all the basic necessities and a few luxuries, as long as my investments do well. I don't have them in anything too risky."
"Wow." He hadn't even considered that she had money. He thought they were both poor starving artists. He had forgotten that she was successful and well-known.
He supposed he was quiet for a while, thinking, when she said, "Does that bother you?"
He turned into the driveway. "This is where we're dropping the groceries off. I usually park along the street, down the street a little bit, and walk to the house so that I don't wake anyone up. We're a lot closer than I usually am, but I think we'll be okay. We need to be quiet though."
"You don't have to wear a disguise or anything?"
"No. If I see anyone, I'll just tell them that these bags were in my shop and they needed to be delivered. Someone brought them to me. Which is true. My partner dropped them off."
"That's clever. Not lying, but after saying that, they would assume that someone else was the Secret Saint and you were just running errands for him."
"Exactly. I never lie. I don't want to, and I hope I don't start, but yeah. Telling the truth, but leaving the obvious out."
"You didn't answer my question."
No. He hadn't answered her question about whether or not it bothered him that she had money. Because, if he was being honest with himself, it did.