Chapter 2 #2
She was leaning against the shop door now, arms loosely crossed, Milo curled at her feet like a golden sentry. The porch light behind her gave her a faint halo, turning the edges of her short black hair to silver. She didn’t look fragile. She looked…watchful.
Like she’d lived through something and was waiting for the next round to start.
I got that. Hated it, but I got it.
“So what happens now?” she asked. “Do you break the bad news gently, or do I get the full horror movie score while you tell me I’ll be here for a week?”
“I’ve got the parts for the hose in stock,” I said. “Radiator’ll need to be ordered. If the supplier’s sober and in a good mood, I might have it Monday. If not—yeah, it could be a few more days.”
She nodded like she’d already made peace with the worst-case scenario. “Okay…so—is there a motel in town? I guess I’m gonna need a place to stay.”
I hummed, shaking my head. “Motel’ll be booked up for the festival,” I said. “All the rentals, too.”
Noelle heaved a deep sigh and raked her hands back through her hair. “Fuck…so sleeping in my dead car it is—”
“Not so fast,” I said. “At the very least, you could crash on my couch. Not comfortable, but good coffee. And…let me call around, see if there’s a spot for ya.”
She frowned, examining me, still not sure if she could trust me. That was smart, I supposed. I knew I was harmless…but she didn’t.
“You know you come off as too friendly, right?”
I let out a short laugh. “Have you met my dog?”
She looked down at Milo, who was now sprawled across her boots like a weighted blanket made of sunshine and drool. He thumped his tail once. Smiled his dumb, earnest smile. Looked up at her like she was already his.
Her shoulders dropped the tiniest bit.
“I’ll take the coffee,” she said. “But you don’t have to call anyone. I’ll figure something out.”
“I won’t have you sleepin’ in your car,” I said. “At least take the couch—”
“There’s a lock on my door in the car,” she interrupted. Her eyes went wide…then she caught herself. “But okay. Yeah. You can call around.”
I gave a slow nod, stepping back toward the workbench where I kept my phone.
She hadn’t meant to say it—that bit about the lock. That had just slipped out. But it told me enough.
Told me she wasn’t just used to keeping her distance—she’d learned to make it feel safer than closeness ever could.
I didn’t press her again. Just scrolled through my contacts until I found the number I swore I wasn’t going to call.
Delilah answered on the first ring.
“Oh no,” she said immediately. “What did Milo do?”
“Nothing. He’s being an angel,” I said, lowering my voice and glancing toward the garage door. “But I’ve got a girl here. Her car’s toast for the next couple days. Motel’s full. You got somewhere for her to sleep?”
“Depends,” she said. “Is she cute?”
“Del—”
“Never mind, of course she is. You wouldn’t be calling if she wasn’t. What’s her name?”
“Noelle,” I said, already regretting this.
There was a pause. Then a thoughtful hum.
“She sounds like trouble,” Delilah said.
“She’s not,” I replied. “Just tired. And stuck. And I’m not sending her to Rhett and Willow’s when the baby’s still not sleeping. Or to Silas and June’s, since they’ve got enough on their plate without a stranger on their couch.”
Delilah sighed dramatically. “You are too soft for this world, Beau Ward. But…yes, of course I have room for her. Unfortunately I gave my guest bed to Silas and June, but I have the futon set up in the extra bedroom now. She doesn’t have any allergies, does she?”
“I’ll check.”
“She gonna bite me?”
I glanced toward the garage, where Noelle was crouched beside Milo now, whispering something into his ear like they had secrets only dogs could understand.
“She might.”
Delilah let out a delighted laugh. “Good. I’m bored. Send her over.”
She hung up before I could say goodbye.
I slid the phone back into my pocket and walked toward the garage. Noelle stood up when I got close, brushing her hands off on the thighs of her jeans.
“My friend Delilah offered to put you up,” I said. “She lives upstairs over at the library…you could walk, or I could drive ya.”
“I’ll walk,” she said. “Can Milo come?”
I chuckled. “Unfortunately I think Delilah’s cat might have a problem with that. You’re not allergic, are you?”
Noelle shook her head. “No. But if her cat tries anything, I will retaliate.”
“She’ll respect that,” I said, grinning. “They have kind of a détente. Mutual war crimes and occasional snuggles.”
Noelle actually laughed at that—low and brief. She sobered quick, though, chewing on her lip.
“You sure she doesn’t mind?” she asked.
“She wouldn’t’ve said yes if she did. Delilah has strong boundaries and zero filter—you’ll know if she changes her mind. She’s good people.”
Noelle nodded, eyes flicking back toward Milo. “And you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you good people?”
I blinked.
“I try to be.”
She held my gaze for a beat, then nodded once. “Okay.”
A few minutes later, I watched her walk away—measured steps, spine straight, duffel slung across her shoulder. Milo sat next to me, still as a statue, tracking her until she disappeared down the path toward the square.
“She’s gonna be a handful,” I murmured.
Milo thumped his tail once, like he agreed.
But he didn’t move.
Just stayed there beside me, staring at the place where she’d gone, like he knew—same as I did—that whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be simple.
Because Willow Grove didn’t just strand people for no reason…and I had this deep, unsettling feeling that the reason was me.