14 #2
Olivia’s expression immediately shifted from humor to disbelief. “You’re kidding !” she replied. “People really said you did that?”
Noah shrugged and looked out the passenger’s side window.
This wasn’t a part of high school he revisited all that often.
“Why not? I was new that year, I lived on the wrong side of town, and I was, apparently, capable of anything.” He tried to keep his voice light, but even he could hear the bitterness that lingered in it.
Another quiet moment passed, during which Olivia turned off the highway and onto a narrower road.
Then she reached over and wrapped her fingers around his hand where it rested on the leg of his jeans.
Noah glanced down at where her skin touched his and was surprised that his hand itself wasn’t glowing orange.
It sure felt like he was on fire.
He cleared his throat and kept talking, mostly because he didn’t want to fixate on the unexpected sensation.
“It worked out in the end, though; life’s a lot easier when you learn to let people assume whatever they want.
Expectations are lower that way,” he said.
“If you ask anyone I graduated with, they’d probably tell you I was a hardened criminal with a line of broken hearts a mile long. ”
Olivia’s thumb brushed over the back of his hand, and Noah felt lightning travel up his arm and lodge somewhere beneath his collarbone.
“But you weren’t,” she said, and he was amazed by the way it didn’t sound like a question.
He huffed out a breath and pushed his free hand through his hair. “Reports were greatly exaggerated,” he admitted.
Olivia smiled faintly before taking her hand back and using it to turn left into a subdivision. “And what about in college? Is the line a mile long now?”
Noah considered her question carefully before answering, thinking back to all the girls he’d flirted with and all the nights that hadn’t meant very much. Then he flattened his hair where he’d made it stand on end. “Reports are greatly exaggerated,” he repeated.
Her expression grew thoughtful, and Noah passed his eyes across her face before looking out the window again.
Two-story, brick houses rose on either side of the road, separated from each other by tall, wooden privacy fences.
This was the kind of neighborhood he’d lived in before his father had left—before the day everything had fallen apart.
It was the kind of neighborhood he’d only been welcome back in as the hired help.
Olivia turned into an immaculate driveway where three other cars were already parked alongside the house. Then she cut off the engine, though she kept both hands tight on the wheel. “Okay, this is home. You ready? ”
Noah watched uncertainty skip across her face and wondered—again—what she’d told her parents about him. “Are you ?” he asked.
She let out a long breath and reached for her door handle. “We’ll see,” she said, though the words were nearly lost as she opened her door and the jarring sound of a nail gun filled the car’s interior. Somebody was hard at work somewhere.
“Livvy!” came a voice from the porch.
Noah looked through the windshield and saw a woman coming through the front door—a woman with olive skin and dark hair that fell in a braid down her back. She had a baby propped on her hip, and there was no possible way she was Olivia’s mother.
“Issa!” Olivia shouted as she climbed from the car.
Noah did the same and stood awkwardly while the women greeted each other.
“Noah, this is my sister-in-law, Issa, and my niece, Aria,” Olivia said. She cooed the last words in the direction of the child, who closed her tiny fists around her mother’s shirt and held on.
“Noah?” Issa asked, not bothering to lower her voice. Her gaze slid down to Noah’s feet in unabashed curiosity. “I thought you said you were bringing a friend.”
“He is a friend,” Olivia hissed, and Issa’s eyes seemed to light up even more.
“Well, hello then, Friend Noah! Welcome to Casa di Cohen,” she said. Her voice was soft and lilting and carried a hint of somewhere far away. Definitely European.
Noah stepped forward quickly and shook the hand she offered. “Glad to meet you. Issa, is it?”
“Yes, short for Isabella. I’m Michael’s wife,” Issa explained.
“Come on, I’ll show you where everyone is.
” Then, she turned and went back through the front door, still talking to Olivia as she went.
“Your mom is having a spa day with Aunt Tammy, and the guys are still assembling the gazebo. They’ve only got five hours until we need to decorate, so I hope they make it. ”
Noah followed quietly behind, his head on swivel as they made their way through a spacious living area with an open kitchen. The interior of the house was fairly quiet, but the sound of men arguing entered the moment Issa opened the back door.
“That side should face out.”
“No, it matches the others.”
“Then they should all face out!”
“Hey, guys!” Issa called, but to no avail.
“Shouldn’t we have seven railings? There are only six in this pile.”
“Hey, guys!” Issa shouted again, this time rising above the noise. “Livvy and her boyfriend are here.”
Suddenly, there was silence.
The men—obviously Olivia’s father and brothers—froze where they stood, and all three heads whipped toward the porch as if by synchronized command.
Olivia glared at her sister-in-law, who only smiled.
“Have fun!” Issa sang as she elbowed Olivia in the ribs and turned to go inside. As she passed Noah, she paused and leaned closer so only he could hear. “They’re not as scary as they act. Be brave,” she advised, and then she was gone.
The click of the door shutting behind her was the only sound that registered in Noah’s mind as the Cohen men continued to stare at him like he had a bullseye on his forehead. He swallowed and reminded himself not to slouch.
“Hey, baby girl,” Mr. Cohen drawled as he approached the porch. He pulled Olivia into a hug that probably could have snapped her in half, if he’d wanted it to. “Now, who have you brought with you?” he asked, acknowledging Noah at last.
“Daddy, this is Noah Campbell,” Olivia started. “Noah, this is my dad, Roger Cohen.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Noah said, holding his hand out first. The older man took it with a nod of his head.
“I didn’t know you were bringing more muscle,” Mr. Cohen told his daughter. “Although another set of hands won’t hurt, I guess.” He looked Noah up and down, but in a very different way than Issa had. “You ready to be useful, young man?”
“Yes, sir,” Noah replied. He hadn’t realized this trip would include manual labor, but there was no way he could answer otherwise. Besides, it would be nice to have something to do with his hands.
“Good,” Mr. Cohen responded. “Then let’s put you to work.”
Four hours later, Noah was sweating like a pig and wondering what the penalty would be for taking off his sweatshirt.
The others already had, though he didn’t think the option extended to him—especially not since Olivia was still in the yard.
He looked up from where he was spreading creek gravel around a newly installed fire pit, his eyes automatically seeking her out.
He found her partway up a ladder, where she was wrapping a long strand of fairy lights around the trunk and limbs of a thick oak tree.
Issa stood with one foot on the bottom rung while her daughter played in the grass nearby.
“You’re staring awfully hard, Campbell,” Danny Cohen said from where he was stringing the same type of lights through the now-finished gazebo.
“What?” Noah asked, yanking his attention back to his work.
“I said you’re staring awfully hard,” Danny repeated, a little slower this time. “That’s my baby sister over there, and she’s not interested in boys... or kissing or”—he wrinkled his nose—“anything else, so pay attention to what you’re doing.”
Noah exhaled and went back to smoothing the gravel evenly from the fire pit to the outer ring of landscaping rock.
“Lay off him, Dan. Liv deserves to be happy,” said another voice, and Michael—the older brother—came out of the garage nearby.
He set a stack of Adirondack chairs beside the gazebo and straightened up.
“That said, though, if you hurt her, we will find you,” he told Noah, his index finger pointed menacingly.
Noah nodded in acknowledgement as the two men began discussing which form of torture would be most appropriate for someone who broke their sister’s heart—the options ranging from arctic exposure to unsedated exploratory surgery.
Noah finished with the gravel and arranged the lawn chairs in a comfortable circle around the new fire pit, refusing to let the argument unnerve him.
He could stare at Olivia until he drilled holes in the back of her head, and her brothers still wouldn’t have anything to worry about.
She’d always been very clear about what she wanted—and didn’t want—and he.
.. well, he fell into the latter category.
Danny and Michael went inside to shower just as Olivia finished hanging her lights. She waved to Noah before scooping Aria up from the ground. Then she started to cross the yard in his direction, but Mr. Cohen cut her off.
“Go on in, Livvy, and start cleaning up,” he directed. “Me and Junior need to have a chat.”
Noah tensed, his hands on the back of one of the lawn chairs, and he watched as Olivia laid a hand on her father’s arm.
“Daddy,” she warned, her voice low, but Mr. Cohen shook his head .
“He’s a grown man, Livvy. He can handle himself,” he admonished.
Noah caught Olivia’s eye for a second, and she looked like she still wanted to object, but she bit her tongue.
“Alright, but he needs to be in one piece for dinner,” she said, and then she crossed the back porch and went into the house.
Noah straightened and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dirty blue jeans; there was no point in acting like he hadn’t been listening.
Mr. Cohen’s worn-out work boots crunched against the creek gravel Noah had laid around the fire pit, and he chose one of the blue chairs to Noah’s right. “Sit down, son,” he ordered, gesturing to the next seat. “I’ve got a few things to say.”