Chapter 3
3
I decide that Miranda must be seeing things through dramatic teenager eyes when Sam returns. Dragging one of the sturdy kitchen chairs into the bathroom, he’s all business as he swaddles me in the old bathrobe. He leaves my injured arm free, which means I’m one deep breath away from a wardrobe disaster. But maybe that doesn’t matter because he’s not even looking at anything but the injury on my lower arm. He lets me walk to the bathroom under my own steam and simply points to the chair angled so that the counter can serve as a surgery table. I watch in fascination as he threads a needle with thick, wiry thread.
“I strongly suggest you not watch this part, Noelle,” he mutters with an apologetic grimace.
I think I agree. I turn my head away, but that means I’m staring right at that damn calendar. I wince in embarrassment.
“I haven’t started yet,” Sam comments dryly.
“Can you maybe put that thing away?” I point at the wall with my free hand. “I’m already embarrassed beyond belief.”
Sam glances over his shoulder and chuckles. “Nope. He likes looking at you, too.”
I close my eyes in silent mortification. But Sam works fast, I’ll give him that. I hold myself still while he stitches the wound closed, but I truly want to moan and whine and complain like I’m Bea’s age. Instead, I heave a shuddery breath when he announces, “All done. Sit here for a moment while I get your bed ready.”
I blink, confused by his words. He returns to the bathroom with my summer pajamas. The ones with the butterfly sleeves that I never wear because I’m always cold, even in August. He slips the top over my head before loosening the bathrobe and then helps me step into the pants. Modest as could be — he’s absolutely not milking any opportunity to see any part of me naked. He must have simply been teasing me earlier, probably to get me to relax from the shock.
He walks behind me as I pad out of the bathroom. Then he tucks me into the freshly made bed, placing a thick pillow under my arm to keep it elevated. I close my eyes in relief at the day being done. I can hear Sam cleaning up in the bathroom, carrying the chair back downstairs. When the bed sinks down on the other side, I sit up in surprise.
“What are you doing?”
Sam sighs heavily. He’s turned off the light already, so there’s only the reflection of streetlights giving him a shadowy outline next to me.
“Noelle, remember I said the condition of me patching you up was staying here?”
“Yes, but…”
“I need to know if you start a fever. Waiting for you to realize it and call me in from another room is not a good idea.”
I frown into the darkness and then blush when his arm wraps around my waist. “Relax, baby. We’ll air all the confusion and untangle the crossed wires after you see the doctor in the morning. The girls have school tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yes, but…”
“If you keep thinking so loud, I’m going to have to kiss you,” he warns.
I flush. “Why would that make you?—?”
He nuzzles against my neck, then drops a small kiss at the corner of my mouth. I turn my head instinctively for closer contact, but he’s already pulled back. “Nothing quite as sexy as a woman’s brain working, Noelle. Now go to sleep.”
I don’t want to. I have so many questions. But when he carefully pulls me tight against his chest, sadly now clad in a soft t-shirt, my exhaustion wins over everything else and I’m out.
When I hear the first signs of the girls stirring, I get up slowly. Pulling myself away from a warm, sleepy Noelle is nearly impossible. She’s the very embodiment of my dreams, and I’m hesitant to do anything to pop that bubble. Only the knowledge that one of the girls is likely to stick her head in the open doorway of the bedroom gets me to move my butt. Me in bed with their mom is a conversation for another day.
In the adjacent bath, the scene of all of last night’s drama, I brush my teeth quickly with my finger and then head downstairs. Noelle hasn’t developed a fever at this point and is sleeping soundly, so I let her be.
Bea frowns at me from her perch at the kitchen counter. “Where’s Mom?”
“Sleeping. She’s fine, kid. You can stop worrying. What do you guys normally do for breakfast?”
Bea’s eyes narrow. “Pancakes and bacon with extra syrup and whipped cream.”
“Every day?” I play along for my own amusement.
Bea nods emphatically.
“How about basic toast and jam today? That’s about all I can manage to cook.”
She giggles. “You don’t cook toast, Sam!”
“What do you do with it?”
“You toast it.”
“You want me to toast your toast? Won’t that just burn it?”
Bea rolls her eyes. I turn with a smile and slide four slices of bread into the toaster. Miranda wanders in sleepily as only a teenager can do, rubbing her eyes. She pours herself a glass of orange juice and frowns at me over the rim. I wait.
“We’re late for school.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Whose fault is that?”
She flushes. “Mom always gets us up in time.”
“Your mom needs rest and a visit to the doctor. I’ll take you to school in a minute. I’m sure they’ll understand there was a family emergency.”
Miranda nods and sets the empty glass in the sink. I leave a note for Noelle and grab my keys.
The school run is uneventful, with the exception of Bea’s fascination with my much less expensive vehicle. And it turns out they’re not really late, just not the full thirty-minutes early that Miranda is used to. I have a feeling Miranda has a lot in common with her mom. Bea’s school is on the other side of town, so by the time I drop her off and get back to the house, I’m not surprised to see Noelle up and sipping a cup of coffee.
“Hey there, beautiful. How are you feeling?”
She blinks and flushes slightly. “I’m fine. But you don’t need to lay on the flattery. I know I’m not pretty. Never have been.”
I cage her against the kitchen counter with my arms. “Did I say pretty? I called you beautiful and you are.”
She frowns. I drop a quick kiss on her forehead. “Did you call the doctor yet?”
Noelle shakes her head. “I called in sick to work, though. Speaking of which, don’t you have a job you need to get to?”
“I have a job, but you’re more important. I too can call in sick.”
“But you aren’t…”
I grin at her. “Such a good girl, Noelle. Are you worried about me getting in trouble for lying? My girlfriend being sick counts as a legitimate reason.”
“Girlfriend!”
“Girlfriend. If you don’t like that title, we can upgrade to fiancée or wife, but those are your only three choices.”
She stares at me with wide eyes. “You’re actually crazy. Not just slightly deranged.”
I shrug. “Maybe. Call the doctor, baby. As soon as he gives you the all clear, we’ll hash everything out.”
Placing her phone in her hand, I turn to study the contents of the refrigerator. Despite my teasing with Bea, I can manage a few basic things and Noelle needs some solid food to offset the stress of last night. While she makes her appointment, I cook her a simple omelet and refill her coffee cup.
“Two is the earliest, since I’m not dripping blood on the floor.” She scowls down at her phone.
I shrug. “That works. Eat, and then you can lounge around and read a book while we wait.”
Noelle stares at me like I’d suggested she run a marathon while dripping blood. I slide the plate in front of her and hand her a fork. “Eat, baby.”
She takes a bite and then another before sighing. “Sam… I’m not — I’m not very good at letting my defenses down.”
I nod. That matches with the ice queen image that I now know is a complete and utter lie. “What does that have to do with lounging on the sofa with a book?” I ask quietly when she doesn’t elaborate.
She flushes and stares at the middle of my chest. Finally she mutters in a small voice, “I don’t know how.”
Now it’s my turn to stare. “What do you do when you’re sick with a cold or something?”
Noelle turns her attention back to the omelet. “It honestly doesn’t happen that often and when it does, it’s usually because I’ve been working too hard and it knocks me on my ass. I’m too out of it then to lounge anywhere.”
I take all that in. “Are you open to learning?” I finally ask.
She nods emphatically. “Oh yes, but… where would I even start?”
I refill her coffee cup and set the carafe on the opposite counter. More caffeine isn’t going to help this new initiative.
“I’ll teach you. Finish your breakfast and we’ll get started,” I mutter because I’m realizing that Noelle is miles away from being ready for a relationship and that makes all of me ache with unfulfilled need.
A dimple flashes in her left cheek that I’ve never seen before. “What do you do for work, Sam? Are you like a boot camp instructor or something?”
“Naw. These days I work in satellite imagery and mapping.”
“Really? Will you tell me about that? I’m really curious how pictures turn into maps without retracing all the lines.”
It’s my turn to stare. She actually means it. Some of the tension I’ve been holding unconsciously releases, and I realize I can’t be as patient with her as I should be.
“We’re going to skip over fiancée and go straight to wife,” I inform her bluntly.
Noelle blinks. “Uh, what brought that on?”
I shake my head. “I’ve got a book for you to read that will explain better than I can. You done with your plate?”
She nods and I slide it into the dishwasher. “Come on, beautiful. Time to learn a new life skill.”
The dimple pops again as she slides off the bar stool. I lead her into the living room and rearrange the pillows on the couch before guiding her down. Lifting her legs up, I can’t help but stroke one hand down her smooth calf. Noelle stares at me with wide eyes. I cover her with a fluffy throw and move a small side table next to the couch, where she can reach it easily. “That’s for the tea I’m about to make for you. Now, here’s the book I mentioned. But if you need a break, feel free to look through my phone. I’m not sure what any of it will tell you about me, but whatever it is, you should know it.” I hand her my phone with the book I want her to read already queued up.