Chapter 26
Liv
My cup of humiliation runneth over.
Noah’s dad walking in on us not only kissing but witnessing me shamelessly rubbing against his son might be the most embarrassing moment of my life. Is burying my head and pretending that didn’t just happen a possibility?
Ugh.
It doesn’t appear to be an option since Noah takes my hand, and despite my feet being full of concrete, he manages to turn us together like we’re a two-for-one deal and then has the gall to introduce me like I’m not dying inside. “This is Liv Bancroft.”
My hand pops up like I’m back in school. “Hi.”
The man smiles, letting it reach his eyes. They’re kind like Noah’s—no judgment found in his thoughtful expression and matching smile. He’s dressed in jeans and a pullover sweater with a crew neck tee underneath, and nothing about him is pompous.
My gaze dots across his face, studying his features and build, hair, and eye color. He’s the grandfather to my son, who might look like him one day, so my curiosity is running wild. The longer I look at him, the more I see Noah altogether.
Noah glances at me. “This is Port Westcott. My dad.”
Collecting myself and remembering my manners, I move forward with an outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Westcott.”
Taking my hand between both of his, he replies, “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Bancroft. I apologize for startling you.”
It’s easy to see where Noah gets his looks, not just similarities, but his father is handsome as well. “No, it’s okay. This is your home, and it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “But I can’t take any credit. I’ll make sure to tell my wife.”
“And please,” I add, “you can call me Liv.”
Noah and his dad embrace. His dad says, “How’s it going in the real world?”
“It’s going.” Noah’s eyes connect with mine over his dad’s shoulder. After they clap each other on the back, he asks, “How’s semi-retirement?”
They release, and his dad laughs. “It’s going.
” His dad walks around the counter. “I’m still not used to a helicopter landing on the property.
I didn’t pay for it, so I’m not complaining since I’ve seen both your brothers more in the past few months than I have combined in the years prior.
Your mom flew to the city last Wednesday to spend the day with Lark and Tuesday, so it’s getting some use. ”
“I’m thinking I should come for a game soon. If I get tickets to the Yankees, you want to go?”
Noah comes to my side and rubs my lower back. “That’d be good.”
Bending down, he pulls out a bottle of white wine and two beers. “You have all that space; I could stay with you.”
Noah doesn’t bristle, but he stills his hand. There’s a noticeable pause that ushers in a wave of discomfort. Max. I hate that Noah can’t tell him. Their bond is obvious, so this must be impossible for him to hold this information inside. “Yeah, sure.”
His dad’s eyes narrow, and a humorless chuckle follows. “You don’t sound so sure.” Glancing at me and then back to his son, he adds, “I can stay with Loch or Harbor if it’s not a convenient time for—”
“I’m sure. You’re always welcome, Dad.”
He twists the top off a beer bottle, and then says, “If you’re not in a hurry to get to the play, we can have a drink together.”
I look at Noah. He looks at me, and says, “We have time for a quick one.”
Port asks, “Wine, beer, liquor, water? I even have tea and coffee.” He holds up the bottle. “I’ve got a great white out of New Zealand.”
“Tempting,” I reply, resting my middle against the marble. “You twisted my arm. I love a light white in the summer.”
“And since you’re not driving,” Port says, looking out the window at the helicopter. “I like her already.”
“Since I am driving downtown, I’ll have water.”
As if he can’t be more perfect, he proves me wrong again. Max will never be safer than when he’s with us—separately or together. I’m confident about that.
We toast and take a sip. I like how casual this is—us just hanging around the kitchen island. “How did you meet my son, Liv?”
I practically spit my wine. I look at Noah, who fails to keep a straight face.
My heart races as I thumb through every possible excuse I can use.
“We work together,” I reply, thinking it’s the safest route to go.
Instead of telling him I met his son on a beach at night and decided on a whim to sleep with the stranger because I thought he was hot and was the rebound I needed at the time, knowing full well there wasn’t any sleeping happening in that bed.
Yes, a lie is better. For now.
I take two gulps, then turn to Noah. “Where’s the restroom?”
“I’ll show you.” He’s chuckling under his breath as he walks me through the living room and toward the large entrance to the home. “You did good.”
“Gee, thanks.” I roll my eyes. “Ever hear of saving someone?”
“Honestly, I was blank as well. Well, my mind wasn’t blank, but sharing what I was thinking about wouldn’t have gone over well.”
Too intrigued to let this opportunity pass me by, I stop, and whisper, “What were you thinking?”
“Having sex with you against that balcony door. The moonlight trailing in and the sounds of your coming mixing with the crash of the waves on the shore.”
Did it just get twenty degrees hotter in here?
I pluck the front of my shirt to try to cool myself, but now remembering that time in the Hamptons, I don’t stand a chance.
“It was pretty fantastic.” As I look at the door tucked under the staircase, my mind wanders into the territory of possibilities. No, don’t even suggest it, Liv.
As if I’m not utterly hot and bothered in front of him, he asks, “Would you like me to wait for you?”
I should not offer to have sex with him in this bathroom behind me. That would be frowned upon in polite society. But lately, polite society is the last thing I care about. His dad is just around the corner, though, sooo . . . “I’m okay. Go spend time with your dad. I’ll be quick.”
Leaning down to kiss my cheek, he leaves the sweetest of impressions on my skin before moving to my ear. “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about every second and every position we shared that night. We should do that night all over again.”
I drag a finger lazily down his face, turning so my mouth touches the corner of his. “Rent the house, and I’ll be there.”
He quiets, then straightens to his full height. With his brow furrowed, he asks, “Rent? That’s my family’s house.” He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “You said you tried to find me by going back to the house and calling the local rental management companies.” He falls back against the wall.
“Most of the houses around there . . .”
“Yeah, I get it. They rent them out for the summer. We don’t because we use ours.” He taps his head against the wall behind him, and a look of devastation comes over him. “Fuck.” Pulling me against him, he holds me tight.
I rest my head on his shoulder and wrap my arms around him. He kisses my head and then says, “To see all the pieces lined up but none of them matching the timelines of our lives leaves us with a bunch of missed connections.”
Closing my eyes, I need to feel the full strength of his embrace. “You’re not mad at me?”
“I’m mad at myself.”
“Why?”
“For not getting your number, for not asking for your last name, for not being awake when you had to leave so I could tell you goodbye.”
“I feel the same. I regret not trying harder.” I lean back, gently rubbing his cheek and coaxing a smile out of him. “But I did leave my number.”
His smile falls. “What do you mean?” he asks so genuinely that I’m taken aback a bit.
“What do you mean ‘what do I mean’? I left my number. You just never called me.”
Noah seems to comprehend my words but stares at me like I grew a third eye. “I didn’t get your number.”
“Well,” I say with a pop of my shoulders, “I left it.”
Standing upright, he shifts me back from him. Still holding my hips, though, he asks, “Where did you leave it?”
“On the dresser. You watched me write it out. We even joked about it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Liv.” His tone has turned, the playfulness disappeared.
I don’t like this line of questioning and take another step back, feeling defensive. “What do you want me to say? I left my number on the dresser with your stuff. Your wallet, even your phone was right there.”
“Why didn’t I get it then?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I reply, “I have no idea, but I left it for you.”
“You’re being serious right now, aren’t you?”
I stare at him, so confused. “Why would I lie about this?”
“I’m not saying you are, Liv.” He comes closer but is careful with his hands. Reaching out, he almost touches me but retreats again. “I’m just surprised to hear this. I would have called you if I’d had your number.”
“Well, you did.”
“I didn’t get it.” As if the world becomes clearer, he says, “That’s why you were mad at me.
That’s why you hated me when you saw me in that conference room.
You thought I didn’t call you. You didn’t realize that night with you was the best night of my life.
Fuck, Liv. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to live the past few years thinking I didn’t care.
” I lower my arms, hoping he gets the hint.
He does and moves in again. Brushing the tips of his fingers through my hair, he says, “I can’t explain what happened to your number, but if I’d had it, I would have called you that day to tell you what an amazing night I had and make plans to see you again. ”
The love in his words pumps through my heart like blood. “You didn’t even know where I was from.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered.” Slipping his arm around my waist, he closes the gap between our bodies. “I would have traveled to see you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I kiss him. Who cares about what could have been when it’s happening right now? “No time like the present to make it right.”
A wry grin slides onto his face, lifting the right side of his mouth. “There’s no time like the present.” Cupping my face, he kisses me with a thousand apologies hanging on his lips and the intentions I remember so well from that night.
But we both know it’s not the time or place, and our lips part and bodies separate.
He reaches back to scratch his neck, something I’ve witnessed him do multiple times.
I think it’s a tic he’s developed when perplexed or uneasy.
I take his arm and hold his hand. “We’ll add this to our list of things to talk about, but for tonight, let’s enjoy the evening. ”
“I agree.” He nods. “I should get back.”
As soon as I use the bathroom, I wash my hands and touch up my makeup. Since I went with smokier eyes, I chose a soft neutral pink close to the shade of my lips to draw his eyes to kiss instead of messing up. It worked as my kiss-swollen lips can attest.
Not wanting to waste any time, I hurry back, walking on cloud nine because of this day.
“Liv,” Port says when I round the corner and see them. “I was telling my son he should take the convertible because it’s a nice night. This gentleman doesn’t want to mess your hair up.”
He sure has no problem messing it up when it involves sex. Rawr. “He can mess it up.”
Noah freezes with the glass of water to his lips. His dad doesn’t catch the double entendre, but I have a feeling he doesn’t want to. “See? Take the Jag. It needs to get out and about.”
“You don’t take it when you take Mom out?”
He starts laughing. “She doesn’t like to mess her hair up.”
I take another sip of wine but then start laughing. Covering my mouth, I don’t want to spill it. I swallow. “Like father, like son.”
Noah wraps his arm around his dad’s shoulders. “Couldn’t have a better role model.”
“Don’t go too far, kid. I’ve heard all about your reputation.”
“And on that note,” Noah says, “it’s time to go.”
We’re all laughing again, but Noah pushes his glass forward. “So it seems you have your choice. Convertible or my car?”
“You have a car?”
“I do. I left it here when I moved to the city.”
“Mm.” I raise my eyebrows. “Now I’m curious. Your car, please.”
He reaches into a cabinet and pulls a key fob from a hook. “You ready, babe?”
Our eyes connect the second the name slips out of his mouth. There’s not an apology to be found, but I can tell by his look that he’s waiting to see how I react.
“I’m ready, sweet cheeks.” My lips wriggle, but I do my best to restrain them.
Noah fails at restraining his, though. Holding out his hand for me, I take it and am pulled to his side. He kisses my temple, not hiding anything from his father. I’ve never felt so good as I do in his arms for the world to see.
With his glass in hand, Port walks around the island. “I’m late for a call to my beautiful daughter.”
“I’m surprised you’re not going to the play,” Noah says. “And where’s Mom?”
His dad suddenly grins, but it’s so devious. He’s up to no good. “Um . . . We were banned three nights ago. Apparently, buying tickets to every show is frowned upon by the star herself.” He chuckles. “But I always get a video chat in before curtain call.”
“And Mom?”
“Not all of us listen.” Stopping in the doorway, he says, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Liv.”
I expected something parent-like to be said to Noah and me, maybe even demanding respect. That’s what I’m used to with my father, but that’s not what Port did. He just opened his arms and welcomed me into his life. The gravity of that isn’t lost on me, and I get a bit choked up. “You, too, sir.”
“Port, please.”
I nod. “Port.”
As soon as we’re alone, Noah says, “You survived meeting my dad.”
“He was just as amazing as I expected from knowing you.”
“You would have never said that a week ago.” Leaning down to kiss me, soft and slow, he whispers, “Look at us now.”
With a wide grin, I reply, “Yes, look at us.”
He grabs the flowers and the tickets before we walk outside to the six-car garage. When he opens the door, he glances at me, and asks, “Ready to meet my mom?”