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My eyes drift toward the beach. The waves are crashing against the sho
re before being sucked back out. The sounds are soothing, and definitely something I could get used to.
“Eyes on the road,” Noah snaps, making me jump.
“Don’t do that.” Good Lord, he’s lucky I didn’t drive off the road.
“You were gawking this morning, weren’t you? That’s why you ran me off the road.”
The way he says it makes me feel about an inch tall, and I sigh. “I’m sorry about today, and I’m sorry about your bike. I’ll pay for the damage.”
Noah doesn’t say anything, just sits quietly with his arms folded across his broad chest like a big, brooding baby. Only he isn’t a baby at all. He’s a delicious-looking man with more muscles than I’ve got handbags, and I’ve got a ton of handbags.
The winding road curves through town, and just about the time I feel like we’re reaching city limits, Noah instructs me to turn.
“That’s my driveway,” he says, pointing off to the right.
“Wow.” My lips part, my eyes following the gravel drive that leads to a beautiful home. Stone-accented brick with big, wooden pillars along the wrap-around porch—it looks like place out of a storybook. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” He motions for me to pull up next to an older-looking car.
“Your Nova?”
Head tilted, Noah looks at me. “Huh?”
“Is that your Nova?” I may not be a car girl by any means, but anyone can identify a classic car, and that’s definitely a classic car.
“My Nova.” He says the words slowly before shaking his head, almost as though he was thinking about something...or someone maybe? “No, that’s my Chevelle.”
“It’s pretty.” Putting the car in park, I slide out and rush to Noah’s door so I can help him. Which, of course, he doesn’t let me do.
“What is it with you and things being pretty? That car is not pretty.”
“Sexy?” I offer.
That earns me the tiniest smile. “Better.”
I reach for his arm, hoping to give him support, but he swats me away. Stupid man. If he bites the dust, I absolutely will not help him up.
We walk side by side to the front door. Well, I walk. Noah hobbles. He manages to maneuver his way up the three steps leading to his front door, and he unlocks it before turning toward me.
“Thank you for driving me home, but there’s really no need for you to stay.”
“Yes, there is,” I say, pulling his discharge paperwork out of my purse. “You have to elevate your ankle and ice it two to three times a day, and this says you need to stay off of it, which means—”
Noah grabs the paperwork from my hand. “Lennon,” he says, sounding annoyed. “I appreciate the help, but I’m a grown-ass man, and I can take care of myself. I don’t need you or anyone else. I’ve had worse injuries than a sprained ankle, and I’ve managed just fine. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go inside, get some rest, and try to salvage what’s left of my weekend.”
My shoulders deflate, along with a tiny, itty-bitty piece of my confidence, and maybe a little chunk of my pride. I’ve been kind, gone out of my way to be nice and take care of him—the least I can do after this morning—but he seems more irritated than grateful.
“Okay. Yeah, I get it. Sorry…about today.”
“It’s okay,” he says, probably grateful that he’s about to get rid of me. “You do have a place to stay, right?”
“Yes.” I nod. Although it hits me that I have absolutely no idea where that place is. And then I remember that when I find it, I’ll be completely alone—in a strange town, in a strange house, by myself. Pressure builds behind my eyes as the weight of the day and, hell, the whole damn week comes crashing down around me, and I look down, desperate to keep the tears from falling. “I, uh…I should probably get going. I still need to find it and then hit the grocery store.”
“Where are you staying? I can try to tell you how to get there.”
“I’m not sure. I’ll just plug the address into the GPS on my phone.”
