Chapter 5 #2
Noah nodded, equally solemn. “That’s very responsible of you. You can visit them at the farm and help Panther look after them any time you like.”
Hattie appreciated the gesture. “That’s a kind offer.”
“Can I come today?” Delphi was savvy enough to know that adults didn’t always follow through on their promises and Noah smiled.
“If it’s okay with your mother, then it’s fine with me. And while you’re visiting, you can choose your Christmas trees. That way you get first choice.”
“Today?” Delphi almost burst with excitement. “Can we cut one down?”
“We won’t cut them today. I’ll do that just before we bring them over to you. That way the trees will stay fresh.”
Delphi gazed at her mother. “Can we go? Please?”
If she said no to this, too, then she’d ruin her daughter’s day, and her daughter didn’t deserve to have her day ruined just because her mother had been feeling lonely and sexually frustrated and had exorcised those feelings on Noah.
Noah was watching her, his face inscrutable.
“It’s up to you,” he said steadily. “If you’d rather not, that’s fine.”
Was he saying he’d rather she didn’t come? Or did he genuinely not care either way? Did he think about those wild, mindless moments in the barn or had he tried to forget it? Maybe, for him, that kiss had been the most terrifying thing about Halloween.
She bit back a hysterical laugh. Maybe that was why he hadn’t come around for a while. She’d scared him. She’d been so damn desperate, she’d scared a man.
On the other hand, Noah had never struck her as a man who was easily scared.
It was impossible to decode his true thoughts from his body language.
But whatever he was thinking, she needed to reassure him that nothing had changed. He was her neighbor and, before that wild moment of madness, a good friend. She didn’t want to lose that.
After Brent’s accident she’d been grateful for Noah’s constant and steady presence.
He’d visited frequently, reminding her that she wasn’t alone, that she had friends and neighbors who cared and were looking out for her.
Long after other people had given up asking her how she was, he’d still paid attention.
Often he brought gifts from his mother’s kitchen.
She made too much casserole, so maybe you’d help us out and eat it.
My mother has tried this new pie recipe, and she’d love your opinion.
She’d started to look forward to his visits. Unlike others, he didn’t tiptoe around her. He seemed to understand that she might laugh one minute and sob the next.
Since Halloween she’d missed seeing him.
Was that wrong? She had no idea what was right or wrong.
Life had upended the natural order of things, and she felt as if she no longer knew the rules, or even if there were rules.
She didn’t care what other people thought; that wasn’t her problem.
Her problem was that she didn’t even know what she thought.
But at least spending time with him would be a way of reassuring him she didn’t intend to grab him at every possible moment, and that he didn’t need to be nervous.
Also, an afternoon on the farm would make her daughter ecstatically happy, and if there was ever an opportunity to make her daughter ecstatically happy, then she was going to take it.
“That would be great. Thank you. I did mean to email you about trees, but it’s been busy. We’ve had a lot going on.”
His gaze held hers. “I understand.”
If that was true, it was really embarrassing.
She was annoyed to find her cheeks turning pink. “We’ll come after lunch. I’ll ask Chloe to cover reception and she can call me if there are any problems.”
“My mother is hoping you’ll join us for dinner. She hasn’t seen you since Halloween.”
Halloween. That one word was all it took for the memories to come pouring back.
She remembered the sharp bite of the cold air, the darkness of the barn, the shadows cloaking the intimacy of the moment.
They’d been talking about Christmas trees, or maybe it was the pumpkin harvest, she couldn’t even remember, but she remembered the moment she’d dug her fingers into the front of his shirt and tugged him toward her.
She’d tugged him so hard he’d had to put out a hand to steady both of them, and for a single breathless moment she’d thought what am I doing?
and then she’d kissed him. In fact, she hadn’t as much kissed him as consumed him.
She’d been ravenous, burning up in the heat of the moment.
It embarrassed her to remember it, although to be fair, he’d been right there with her, his mouth urgent against hers, his hands holding her hard against him as they’d pressed closer.
The whole thing was a dizzying blur of erotic pleasure and guilt.
Guilt because she wasn’t sure she was ready emotionally to kiss another man; pleasure because—well, that part was obvious.
Noah Peterson clearly had skills she’d known nothing about until that moment.
But now she knew.
Her gaze slid cautiously to his and for a moment they looked at each other, connected by the memory of that stolen intimacy.
This was the moment to say something funny and dismissive that would signal to him that everything was fine and that he didn’t need to worry about being alone with her on a dark night.
But her mind blanked.
Noah looked at her for a moment longer and then shifted his attention to Delphi. “Can you watch the kitten for me, honey? Your mother and I need to have a talk about a few things.”
Hattie felt a flash of horror. He wanted to talk about it? That was the last thing she wanted.
Keeping a protective hand on the basket, Delphi looked up at him. “I know. Christmas trees. You have to talk about Christmas trees. Because you’re the Christmas tree man.”
“That’s right.” The smile crinkled his eyes and tilted the corners of his mouth. “I’m the Christmas tree man.” Giving the child’s shoulder a quick squeeze, he walked toward Hattie.
She stared at him stupidly. “You want to talk about Christmas trees?”
“Your order. It would be helpful to know what you need before you come over this afternoon.”
“Oh.” She forced herself to relax. “Yes. I scribbled it down somewhere. It’s on my desk.” She grabbed her note book, ripped out the relevant page and thrust it toward him. “Here—”
“Thanks.” He glanced at it and tucked it into his pocket.
“It’s mostly the same as last year, except that this year I’d like to put a tree in the library.”
“Sounds good. Size?”
Size? Over six foot, she thought, because she’d had to lift herself onto her toes to kiss him.
She was so flustered by the direction of her own thoughts that her brain had stopped working. “I don’t know.”
“Show me the space and I’ll find something suitable.” He walked through the door toward the reception area and Hattie checked Delphi.
“Don’t move. You’re in charge. You’re basically running the whole show.”
“I won’t move.” Delphi crossed her legs and sat firm, taking her new responsibilities seriously.
She followed Noah through to reception. For once everything was quiet, so she crossed the hallway to the room that she and Brent had turned into a library. “That child is five going on twenty-five. I swear I’m going to wake up one morning and discover she’s already off to college.”
“She’s growing up fast.”
“She is. A little too fast. I can’t keep up.” Thank goodness for Delphi, who was always a safe topic of conversation.
Hattie pushed open the door and instantly felt some of the stress leave her.
Books did that to her, and this room was full of books.
The shelves were walnut and reached up to the ceiling.
A fire flickered in the hearth. Two deep, comfortable sofas faced each other across a low table, which was stacked with more books.
What wouldn’t she give to curl up on one of those sofas and read for the rest of the day?
“I love this room.” Noah reached up and pulled a book from the shelf. His sweater emphasized the width of his shoulders, and a flash of sensation rippled down her spine and settled somewhere deep inside her.
“Me, too.” It was a struggle to sound normal and she wasn’t sure she managed it.
“I currently have eight books on my nightstand, and with the amount of work on the farm I’m not likely to cut that down to seven anytime soon.
Not that I don’t love reading, but since Dad hurt his shoulder there’s not much time to do anything except work and sleep.
I’m guessing you know how that feels.” He put the book back and turned.
“So we should probably do this so that you can get back to Delphi and the inn.”
Her mouth was dry. “Do this?”
“We should talk about this. Figure out what it is you want.”
If she knew that, she wouldn’t be in this quandary. She knew she had to move on one day, whatever that was supposed to mean, but how would she know when that day came?
“We don’t need to talk about it.”
There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes followed by understanding. “The tree,” he said slowly. “We should figure out what you want this tree to look like.”
The tree. Of course he was talking about the tree.
And now she wanted to die.
Tactfully ignoring her embarrassment, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a couple of photos.
“You’ll probably want to put the tree by the window, so that it doesn’t dry out by the fire.
” He glanced from floor to ceiling and then made a few notes on his phone.
“You don’t want it to dominate, and you don’t want it too wide.
Do you have any preferences? Any thoughts? ”
She had no thoughts, only feelings. All of them confusing.
“Nothing. But I want it to smell like a Christmas tree.”
His gaze lingered on her face for a moment. “Right.” He dragged his gaze away. “In that case, I suggest we go with the balsam fir. Good needle retention, rich color, great shape. And firs tend to last longer than spruces.”
“Great.”
This wasn’t awkward, it was excruciating. They were both dancing around what had happened, pretending it wasn’t there. Which made it seem bigger.
Maybe she should say something. On the other hand, why draw attention to something he was obviously trying hard to ignore? If he’d wanted to mention it, he’d had plenty of opportunity. “We’d better let you go. I know how busy you are. It’s Christmas tree season!”
Noah slipped his phone back into his pocket. “You look tired.” His tone was blunt but caring. “Have you been working too hard?”
“Probably. This place is pretty demanding and stressful.” She was trying so hard to keep everything the way Brent had wanted but the pressure was keeping her awake at night.
She was constantly asking herself what Brent would have done, but seeing as they’d often felt differently on things to do with running the inn, that wasn’t an easy question to answer.
He nodded. “How are the staff?”
“As of this morning they were all still here, so I’m grateful for that given that I’m so bad at managing them.”
His brows pulled together in a frown. “You’re not bad at managing them, Hattie.”
“Yes, I am.” She thought about Stephanie and then she thought about Chef Tucker. “Brent appointed most of them and he chose them carefully. He was great at the people stuff. He knew when to be firm, and when to encourage. But I’m not Brent. I’m not very…confrontational. Pathetic, I know.”
“It’s not pathetic. People have different management styles, and good managers have different styles for different people.
I’m sure you’re an extremely effective manager.
” Noah paused. “Maybe it’s time to stop trying to do things the way Brent would have done them, and do things the way you want to do them. This is your business, Hattie.”
It wasn’t her business though, was it? She still thought of it as their business; it was just that Brent was no longer around to share in it. She was caretaking his dreams.
For a brief moment she was tempted to tell Noah how she felt, but she couldn’t push the words past the barrier she’d built inside her. It would have felt disloyal to Brent, particularly given her confused relationship with Noah.
“I’ll be fine.”
He hesitated. “I know you’re trying to keep things the way they were, but you have to find a way that works for you. You have to make a life that works for you.”
Was he talking about the inn or something more personal?
And was she constantly going to look for alternate meanings in everything he said?
However much she tried to pretend differently, the kiss had changed everything. She was thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking. And wanting things she shouldn’t be wanting. And if she really thought they could move on as if nothing had happened, then she was kidding herself.
There were some things you couldn’t forget and some things that couldn’t be undone.
“I’m happy keeping things the way they are. Brent had great ideas.” Her words shattered the almost painful intimacy.
“Right. Of course.” He straightened his shoulders and gave a brief smile. “Apologies if I overstepped.”
She had to stop herself reaching out and assuring him that he hadn’t overstepped. That she was the one who was confused. But that would just muddle the situation even more.
She wished she could rewind the clock to the time when being with him hadn’t felt awkward. But that would have meant undoing the kiss, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to deprive herself of that one memorable moment even if it had left her unsettled.
“We should probably check on Delphi,” she said. “As much as I believe in her good intentions, I don’t entirely trust her not to stuff Rufus with candy.”
“We’ll see you later, then. Message me when you’re on your way over and I’ll meet you at the farmhouse. Dress warmly, both of you. It’s cold out there.”
“We’ll do that.” And this time, she promised herself, there would be no intimate moments in the barn, no long, lingering eye-meets, no heart-stopping kisses. Just an afternoon of Christmas trees and her daughter.
No problem.