Chapter 17
Serra
Istood there like a Peeping Tom watching the two men I cared most about in this world.
What were they talking about? Me, undoubtedly.
But what exactly about me? Would Pop Pop warn Noah to stay away from me?
The way Sawyer had warned me off of Noah all those years ago?
My heart pounded with the thought. The thick strap of my Givenchy tote hung on my left arm and my clasped hands remained fused in front of me.
I was wringing them like a person watching the lottery and hoping I was holding the winning ticket.
My grandfather had lived in this town all his life, so he would’ve known or at least heard of Noah’s family.
Did he share the rest of the town’s opinion that Noah and his friends were unsavable reprobates?
In the weeks that I’d been here, I hadn’t heard anything negative about the guys or their bar.
Then again, I didn’t go anywhere besides the lake house, here at the restaurant, and the few times I’d been to the bar.
Well, I did go to the coffee shop just about every day, but nobody bothered me while I was there.
At first, I thought that was the antithesis of a small town because wasn’t everybody supposed to be in everybody’s business here?
I mean, people were friendly and they spoke, but nobody besides Camy had come up to me and started a conversation.
I was certain that would change the moment that picture hit the gossip pages, but so far tonight—which was the first night I’d come into the restaurant since Sunday—I’d only received a few knowing stares and cordial back and forth pertaining to the menu, wait times, etc.
Was that what Pop Pop and Noah were talking about? The picture?
I groaned and was just about to say to hell with it and cross the room to the patio so I could join in the conversation, when she said, “Noah Jordan has always been fine, but damn, those years away only made it better. Like fine wine indeed.”
I had to do a double-take at Arnell, one of the evening hostesses.
I liked her well enough that we had exchanged some conversations outside of the purview of the restaurant.
Like, what movies were coming out this summer, which ones we’d already seen, hated and or loved.
But men were never a topic. That and the fact that she was talking about Noah—my Noah—had my brow raising.
“Excuse me?” I had to say something other than the ‘he’s mine’ reply that bounced around in my head.
Grinning she nudged me playfully. “You were standing here staring at him like he was on the dessert menu. And I’m just sayin’ I’m enjoying the view as well.”
“Stop,” I started, then cleared my throat. “I mean, we should both stop staring, it’s rude.” With that, I turned all the way around until I was facing the front doors of the restaurant.
Arnell chuckled. “Girl, you don’t have to be embarrassed.
There aren’t that many sexy ass men in Providence.
” She made her way behind the hostess stand again.
This time depositing the menus she was holding into one of the slots at the bottom.
“But Noah and his crew … Shit, I was glad as hell when they all came back. And I’m at their bar every Wednesday and Sunday nights that I’m off trying to see which one will take me up on the offer to join me in bed. ”
“Wow.” I barely resisted adding, ‘thirsty much?’ to the end of that statement. But since she was obviously in such a talkative mood tonight, I asked, “Were they really as bad as I heard? I only visited for a couple of weeks every summer in my childhood years, so I didn’t get to meet any of them.”
Noah had told me some things about his past and he’d talked about his friends frequently, but never in any real detail. For instance, I didn’t know why any of the other guys had ended up in the same group home as Noah, just that it was the place they all met and forged their bond.
“Well,” Arnell replied, leaning forward on the stand to rest her folded arms. She was more than eager to talk about the guys and their tribulations, which was exactly how I figured small town folks were.
But what did it say about me that I’d asked the question in the first place?
I’d deal with that answer later. Right now, I was all ears.
“Noah and Rock were always the fighting ones. It was like they beat ass for the hell of it. The twins got into fights, but it was really the old sheriff that was after them for some reason. My granny said it was because of a love triangle. The twins’ mother, Roxanne, their daddy, and Smitty Johansen before he died.
Mr. Greer won obviously and thank the Lord, because that’s exactly where them twins got their good looks.
My granny used to babysit the twins when they were first born and Ms. Roxanne talked to her a lot about shit that was going on.
Then there was Ethan. Baby, them pretty eyes was sexy even in high school.
His daddy drank himself to death so Ethan had no other place to go.
And Jeret, he wasn’t born here in Providence, but his people were into politics so him acting out didn’t bode well for their image. ”
“Hmmm, sounds like regular boy stuff to me,” I said with a shrug.
Even though I knew there was more to Noah’s story, the others didn’t sound remotely as bad.
I also knew that Noah had a reason for what he’d done and unlike my father and brothers I’d never held that against him.
“Why does everybody in this town hate them so much? I heard they’ll be opening a rec center next year and the bar has some great community things planned. Shouldn’t that be applauded?”
Arnell shook her head, honey-toned barrel curls bouncing on her shoulders.
“Girl, people around here are weird and stuck in their ways. Once a member of their family believes something to be true, you could put the opposite right up to their noses and they still won’t change their mind.
My granny used to bake cakes every Saturday afternoon and send them over to Grace House for their Sunday dinner dessert.
She said the town council hated budgeting out money to fund the house, so it really flourished on donations. ”
I heard them before I saw them and knew my conversation with Arnell would be cut short.
That was fine. Like I said, I knew Noah’s past. Well, most of it anyway.
I’d been so wrapped up in how I was going to deal with the picture, the exposure, and my still-in-limbo career that I hadn’t bothered to ask about what had been printed about him in that post.
“Hey,” Noah said as he approached me.
“Hey,” I replied with a smile I couldn’t hold back. In the last two days, amidst all the people I’d talked to in-person or via text, phone, or email, Noah had been my favorite.
He’d somehow known exactly what to say to calm my frayed nerves and keep me from either jumping on a plane to get to Memphis—the last city I’d known Adrian was in—and kicking him in the balls the way I’d wanted to do when I first heard Lindsey’s voice on the other end of my phone, or putting a pillow over my head and screaming into the abyss, or…
dying, whichever came first. Okay, the latter was way over the top, but there’d been a few moments when I felt exactly that way.
Then my phone would vibrate because I’d quickly grown tired of the classic ringtone I’d set blasting through my hard-won calm.
And each time I answered, he said, ‘hey’ in that casual yet panty-wetting tone.
“You ready to head out?” he asked, and I had to blink to clear my mind of the quick detour it had just taken. The one where I ended up on his lap, riding us both into the pleasurable oblivion where we seemed to function best.
“Yeah,” I managed to say before clearing my throat, then taking the steps that drew me closer to my grandfather.
“Don’t stay too late,” I told him and leaned in to kiss his weathered cheek.
“Omar is the best assistant manager you’ve ever had.
Vera told me she trained him herself. He has everything under control.
Trust him to do his job and you go on home to get some rest.”
When I would’ve pulled away, he rested his hands on my shoulders and turned to place a kiss on my forehead.
“I’d tell you not to stay out too late, but I know you’re all grown up.
” His voice was raspier than it had been the last time I’d seen him a couple of years ago.
He’d been a life-long smoker until his COPD diagnosis three years ago.
I pulled back enough to look into those familiar eyes. They held a hint of sadness that had me frowning. “That I am,” I told him with a slow smile. “But I’m still your Peppermint Patty.”
According to my Grammy, there was no missing church during my summer stays, although she knew religion wasn’t high on my father’s list of grooming for me.
That was yet another reason my grandparents despised Peron Ward—he’d pushed everything they taught their daughter, right out of her mind the moment he put that ring on her finger.
I didn’t mind going to church, looked forward to it when I was here, but probably not for the reasons my grandparents would’ve liked.
While most older people had candy bowls filled with hard candy in their homes and a pouch with those same butterscotch, peppermints, and the multi-colored candies that came in different shapes but all tasted the same, in their purse, Grammy also had miniature peppermint patties.
She put those in there just for me and my heart soared each time I saw them.
“Trust yourself,” Pop Pop said, his tone serious. “Don’t be afraid to do what’s best for you.”