TWENTY-SIX
Charlotte
When Noah asked me if I wanted to do dinner and a movie with him, he didn’t clarify if it was a date. But it had certainly felt that way at the restaurant and now that we were sitting here in the dark theatre, sharing a bucket of popcorn—I couldn’t see it as anything else.
I was so excited about it, I didn’t give a shit about the movie and let him pick which one. He was buying the tickets, anyway. The movie was loud and violent, with beautiful people and minimal plot, so it didn’t require a lot of attention.
Which was good.
It meant I could spend most of the movie being close to him and wondering if he was my boyfriend. If that was true, I knew what my friends would say. Too soon. Just a rebound. Or worst of all, can’t you date someone our age?
It was exactly what my parents would say... if they survived the aneurism it would give them.
We were less than an hour into the movie when Noah pulled his phone out of his pocket and discreetly checked the screen. Someone had sent him a text message, and whatever it said, he wasn’t happy about it. He sent back a short response and leaned over to whisper in my ear.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go. My dad fell, and my mom needs my help.”
I turned to look at him with a face full of concern. “Is he okay?”
“I’m not sure. All she says is she not able to help him get back up.” He glanced at the gun battle raging on the screen, and then back to me. “You can stay and Uber home if you want to finish—”
I shook my head and grabbed my purse off the empty seat beside me. “Let’s go.”
He hesitated for a moment but must have realized we didn’t have time to waste, rose from his seat into a crouch, and hurried down the aisle toward the exit.
Noah was tense on the drive over to his parents’ house, but I couldn’t tell if it was caused by the emergency... or the way I had invited myself along. We didn’t talk, and the longer the silence stretched between us, the worse I felt. I was going to meet his parents, and during a crisis, when I wasn’t likely to leave a good impression. God, I shouldn’t have forced this on him—or his family.
But when I opened my mouth to tell him I was second-guessing my decision and he should drop me off somewhere, he turned into a subdivision. The houses here weren’t as large or sprawling as the ones in his neighborhood, but they were nice and had cute landscaping.
My anxiety spiked when he pulled into one of the driveways, put his car in park, and shut off the engine.
“Do you want me to stay here?” I blurted.
He tilted his head in confusion. “What?”
“I didn’t ask you if it was okay for me to tag along. I can wait here for you.”
He stared at the steering wheel in front of him, and it looked like he was struggling to process. But he shook his head, pushed open his door, and began to get out. “It’s fine. C’mon.”
His tone was distracted, like he’d settled for the path of least resistance, and that made me feel even worse, but I’d done this to myself. I got out of his car and followed him up the path.
Noah’s mother must have been watching for him, because she opened the front door before we’d reached the porch steps. She looked immensely relieved at his arrival, but as her gaze shifted to me at his side, her expression changed to one of confusion.
Or maybe distrust.
He’d told me his parents were in their early seventies, but his mom didn’t look it. She had short, dark hair, great skin, and sharp eyes. I immediately got the sense those eyes didn’t miss much.
“This is Charlotte,” he said. “We were out when you called.” His mother backed out of the way as we came in. “Charlotte, this is my mom, Theresa.”
“Hi,” I said automatically, “it’s nice to—”
“Hello.” Her focus turned back to Noah, and it was as if I ceased to exist. “He fell in the shower.”
“The shower?” Noah’s concern was thick. “Is he okay?”
“He thinks so, but we can’t really tell until we get him up. I tried, but with my bad shoulder...”
He nodded and began to move down the hallway, with his mother following quickly. “Why was he in the shower at eight-thirty?”
“He wanted to take one after he finished mowing the yard.”
Noah pulled to a stop and turned to show her his frown. “Why the hell is he still mowing the yard? You need to pay someone to do that for you.”
She put a hand on her hip and looked annoyed. “I agree, but you know how your father is.”
I’d remained in the entryway, and he glanced back over his shoulder at me, delivering a quick look. Stay , it said. I’ll be back in a bit.
Which, of course I’d stay. I wasn’t about to be introduced to his dad while he was incapacitated and naked.
While they were gone, I stood awkwardly and struggled with what to do. It seemed rude to get on my phone, so I glanced around, curious about his parents’ place. It didn’t look like this was the house Noah had grown up in.
The entryway was open, there was a dining area to the right and the living room straight back, and a gallery wall of pictures hung over one of the sofas. My eye went instantly to the ones of Noah growing up.
I didn’t consider if it was rude. I let my feet carry me forward as my gaze traveled over the images of him and his family. It was mostly vacation pictures throughout the years, the family in front of the Washington Monument, the Grand Canyon, at Disney World.
There were a few where the kids were helping their dad with a tour. One of his older brothers’ weddings. Noah’s college graduation.
Damn, he’d always been hot. Like he’d skipped right over the awkward teenage years. I was envious.
When I finished looking at the pictures, I made the mistake of turning to my right and peered into the kitchen. I sucked in a breath and held it tightly in my lungs.
Used pans were stacked beside the sink. A dish towel that hung on the oven had brown stains from where hands had been dried on it repeatedly. The floor looked like it hadn’t been swept in a month.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
There was a kitchen table that had a collection of dirty plates, silverware, and wadded up paper napkins. It didn’t seem like his parents’ meal had been interrupted, since his father had gone to take a shower.
No, these plates had been abandoned here.
My mother would put up with almost anything. Her only absolute, unbreakable rule was when you were finished eating, you took your plate to the sink. I could not tolerate food and dirty dishes left sitting out, and before I knew it, I was stacking the plates.
They have so much to deal with. Might as well be useful.
I made quick work of loading the dishwasher, tossing the used napkins away, and wiping down the tabletop with a damp paper towel. And when that was done, I tackled the pans by the sink. If I hurried and got them done, I might have time to wipe down the kitchen counters and look for a broom.
The pans clanked together as I stacked one clean one on top of the next.
“What are you doing?”
I startled at the sound of Noah’s voice and dropped the pan in the sink, making the sudsy water slosh around. Thankfully, he sounded surprised and not angry, and when I turned to face him, he only looked confused. I’d found a clean dishtowel under the sink earlier and used it to dry my hands.
“I’m keeping busy,” I said, channeling my mother. “How’s your dad?”
He sighed and walked toward me, stopping only a foot away, so I could peer up into his worried eyes. “He’s all right,” he lowered his voice, “but he’s stubborn as shit.” His gaze went to the stack of pans that were drying on the counter and flicked to the doorway leading to the living room. “You should stop cleaning. If my mom comes in here and sees what you’re doing, she’ll be embarrassed.”
I’d been so compelled to clean, I hadn’t thought about my actions or if they’d come off as offensive. They hadn’t known I was coming, nor had I been invited into their home, and if the roles were reversed, I would have been mortified.
Shit .
“It’s why I was nervous on the drive over here,” he added. Why did he look so sheepish? “I knew it would be bad. Maybe even overwhelming for you.”
My heart beat a little quicker. He’d been concerned for his father, sure, but he’d also been thinking about me during the drive. He got that mess bothered me, and fuck if he didn’t know me better in a few short months than nearly anyone else.
Certainly better than your last boyfriend.
I motioned to the sink and gave him an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” My expression turned serious. “With everything your parents are going through, it’s totally understandable if stuff like this falls to the wayside. I’m happy to help. And wouldn’t it be nice for them to have one less thing to deal with right now?”
His shoulders straightened and he tilted his head. He was acting like my question was so unexpected, he didn’t know how to deal with it. As if consideration wasn’t something he was sure I was capable of. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, and it bristled against the whiskers of his beard, and then his eyes lit with warmth.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
I thrust the dish towel at him and cast my other hand toward the stack of drip-drying pans. “Then help me. Dry these and put them away, so we can finish before your mom catches us.”
A tight laugh came from him, and he took the towel from me.
It was nice, standing side-by-side with him at the sink, working together. We made a great team. I finished scrubbing the last pot, unplugged the drain, and water gurgled down the pipe as I watched him finish his task.
God. Noah doing dishes was way sexier than it had any right to be. The muscles in his forearm flexed as he wiped the white towel over the stainless steel, and then he tucked the pot in a cabinet beside the stove, before returning to me at the sink.
Did he realize how powerful an effect he had on me? One simple look from him and my body heated.
“I’m sorry the movie got ruined.” But he gazed at me like he wasn’t sorry we’d ended up right here in this moment together.
“It’s okay.” I tried to sound sexy and seductive. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
His smile was wicked, and he placed a hand on my cheek, holding me still so he could seal his lips over mine. His kiss was deep and thorough, and so intoxicating, I forgot where we were. The longer it went on, the more serious my concern became that I might liquify into a puddle on the floor at his feet.
Noah ended the kiss right as my need for him became dire, and he hovered only a few inches away, teasing another kiss. “Any suggestions?”
All I could think about, all I could see was him. “You have such a beautiful face,” I said. “I just want to sit on it.”
He grinned bigger than I’d ever seen, and my legs went boneless. It was a miracle I didn’t collapse or—
Someone on the other side of the room cleared their throat.
And they did it in a very loud, very fake way, making sure we knew it was only to get our attention.
We instinctively leapt away from each other, and my gaze reeled around, searching for the source of the sound, and as soon as I found him, everything in me went cold.
Well—not everything. Blood rushed hotly to my face.
Fuck.
Noah’s father was tall and broad-shouldered. His gray hair was mostly dry already, and he wore a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt that stretched across his belly. He was a big guy, and it made sense why Theresa would have a hard time helping him up, even without a bad shoulder.
A scowl painted his face, and my gaze dropped to the floor. Noah’s dad was fucking intimidating, and him overhearing me tell his son I wanted to sit on his face wasn’t just cringe.
It was horrifying.
“Dad.” Noah straightened and pretended he didn’t feel any awkwardness. “This is Charlotte.” I sensed he was looking at me then, and found his expression was fixed. “Charlotte, this is Gabe Robinson.”
My voice shook. “Hello.”
The only acknowledgement I got from Gabe was a grunt, like I was unworthy of using full words. It held the room in tense silence and made me want to die. But Theresa appeared then, oblivious to it all, and strolled to the fridge. She opened the door and surveyed its contents.
“Noah,” she said, “does your friend want to stay for dinner?”
His father laughed, only it wasn’t warm like his son’s could be, and he poured on the sarcasm. “I think they’re a bit more than friends, Theresa.”
I could feel the irritation rolling off Noah in waves, but he ignored his father’s comment. “No, thanks, we already ate.”
She closed the refrigerator, and it was then she noticed something was different in the kitchen. “What happened here?” Her focus went from the now-empty table to the bare counter beside the sink before zeroing in on me. “Did you clean ?”
I nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to be useful.”
She stared at me with disbelief and the discomfort grew inside me until I couldn’t handle it anymore.
“Noah helped me,” I added. “I’m sorry.”
She blinked as she considered what to say next. Perhaps she was thinking up the perfect way to tell me what I’d done was rude but do it in a passive-aggressive manner like Southern women preferred.
Instead, she strolled over to a cabinet, opened it, and began to pull down some wine glasses. “All right. A drink, then.” The bases of the glasses clinked against the stone as she placed them on the counter, and her tone walked the line of being teasing or serious. “I’m assuming your girlfriend is old enough to have a drink.”
Noah gave his mother a plain look. “Yes, she’s old enough to drink.”
I pressed my lips together and steeled my expression so no one would know how excited I was when he didn’t correct her. Maybe it was for his father’s benefit, and it was just pretend for tonight, but I didn’t mind in the slightest.
“Great.” Theresa returned to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of white wine from one of the shelves on the door. “I think we all need one after the evening we’re having.”
“I’m sorry,” Noah announced, “but we can’t stay.”
She wasn’t fazed. She unscrewed the top of the bottle and began pouring a glass, but it became clear it was only for her. “All right,” she said. “Then you’ll have to bring her by for dinner.” She took a sip of her wine while her gaze slid to me. “I’d love to get to know this girl who’s convinced my son to clean.”
“Yeah, sure.” He looked pained. “Maybe some other time.”
She didn’t act offended at his attempt to brush her off.
“You going to pour a glass for me?” Gabe asked his wife.
“You’re not supposed to.”
He groaned. “Oh, stop it with that. It’s one glass.”
She turned to her son and her expression screamed, see what I have to deal with?
Noah straightened. “I think we’re going to head out.”
“You sure you can’t stay?” Theresa asked.
“No, thanks. As much fun as Charlotte and I have had, this wasn’t part of the plan for tonight.” He motioned to the doorway, asking me to start moving in that direction.
“Nice meeting you,” I eked out before going.
“Oh, you too,” his mother called back.
The goodbyes were quick, and we hurried down the front porch, and I didn’t feel like I could relax until I was in the passenger seat of Noah’s car, safely closed inside. It wasn’t the same for him, though. Tension gripped his shoulders tightly as he started the engine.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly.
“Yeah.” His answer came so quickly, it was a knee-jerk response, and he sighed. “It was fucking rough seeing my dad like that, all incapacitated. And you know what’s even worse? He was pissed I was there. He didn’t know my mom had called and asked for help.” His tone was bitter. “He was adamant he would have been able to get up on his own eventually, that he only ‘needed another minute.’ Never mind he’d been lying on the shower floor for twenty minutes already.”
It wasn’t my place, but I said it anyway because Gabe had been utterly silent when we’d left. “Did he thank you for your help?”
“Nope, he sure didn’t.” He set his hands on the steering wheel but didn’t put the car in gear. Maybe he needed another moment to collect his thoughts.
“I’m sure it’s hard,” I said, “for you and them. You should all give each other some grace.”
He turned to look at me, and I half expected him to tell me to be quiet or that I didn’t know what I was talking about, but there was only surprise in his eyes. He wore the same expression he’d had in the kitchen when I’d asked for his help with the dishes.
“They were kind of prickly to you.”
I pulled my mouth into a lopsided smile. “They were fine, and I’m giving them some grace too.”
He finally put the car in reverse and began to back down the driveway. “Careful. That doesn’t really sound like something a spoiled brat would say.”
I shrugged and matched his playful tone. “Maybe I’m starting to outgrow that.” I swallowed a breath. “I noticed you didn’t correct your mom when she called me your girlfriend.” I said it as a joke, even though I was completely serious. “I thought we were just friends.”
He finished backing into the street, and as he put the car into drive, he glanced over to me. His, and his expression made my heart stumble and beat faster.
“Maybe,” he said, “we’ve outgrown that too.”