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“A little. But what would a Hollywood director want with this building?”
She looked around then stood to take their plates to the trash. She hadn’t given it much thought since Franchesca had said something about it. But rumors were still flying, which meant there was a good chance they were partly true.
Noelle tossed their plates and made her way back to their spot on the floor. She hoped they were mere rumors. Losing her studio would be another dream down the drain. Where would she be then? She didn’t dare think about it. Besides, it was much more fun to think about the man who sat on the floor of her studio now adding glitter to her signs. The man was a constant surprise. And Noelle did love surprises.
Chapter Eleven
Wes packed onelast thing in his bag and zipped it closed. After an enlightening dinner with Noelle two nights before on the floor of her studio, he’d spent the rest of the evening and the following day making plans that could either thrill Noelle or have her upset with him. He’d talked to Holly though and after her reassurance, he was confident it would be the former response.
“Where you off to?” Mike asked.
“I’m going to New York. Just a quick trip. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Wes checked his work bag one more time. The trip was by no means meant for work, but he did have one meeting the next morning he would squeeze in while he was there. A meeting he had no intention of telling Noelle about, but an important one all the same.
“You will, huh?” His brother stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorframe to Wes’s room.
He looked up from his bag at his brother. “Why do you say it like that?”
“I don’t know. You seem pretty keen on getting out of here sooner rather than later. I wouldn’t be surprised if you stayed. Didn’t come back.”
It was tough to argue with that. Wes had made it clear when he’d first arrived that Montana was the last place he wanted to be. It was to be a short visit. Key word being short. But circumstances, along with a leggy brunette who now filled his almost every thought, were changing his mind.
“Yeah. Well, I have a Bake-Off I need to get back for, remember?”
Mike laughed. “Oh, I remember. I think the beautiful woman you get to bake with has more to do with you wanting to return than anything else though.”
Wes couldn’t argue with that either. So he said nothing. Zipped up his work bag and set it beside his small suitcase.
“I see. No answer. Stoic Wes decides once again not to share.”
“Come on, man. You make me sound like a…”
“Like a man who keeps things close to the vest? Who won’t get into a real relationship because it’s messy and something he can’t control?”
“Okay, Oprah. I see where you’re going with this. You want me to talk? Fine. I’ll talk.” Wes sat in one of the chairs at the base of his bed. He faced his brother, who was still in the doorway. “I like Noelle. There. You happy now?”
“That’s it? You sat down to have a long chat with me, bare your soul, and all I get is ‘I like Noelle?’ Tell me something I don’t know.”
Wes ran a hand through his hair. “You’re killing me, man. Seriously.”
“How about telling me why you’re so against being here? Or why you can’t understand Dad wanting to be here?”
Not thrilled with having to talk about his feelings about his family, Wes was still somewhat relieved to have the topic off Noelle. “I don’t know. I just don’t get it. Why would Dad want so much change after all this time? New York is his home. It was their home. His and Mom’s.”
“Was.” Mike looked down at his feet. “Sometimes life throws you changes you don’t want. You don’t get to choose.”
His heart ached for his brother. Burying his young bride was something Mike never could have anticipated. Hell, no one could.
“I’m sorry, Mike.”
Mike looked at him again. “Don’t be sorry. Life happens. I made the decision to bring myself and Annalise here and it’s been a good change. One I chose, and I’m happy with it. I’m just asking you to give Dad a little room to be different than he used to be. Mom’s death changed all of us.”
Wes nodded and looked out the window. Maybe he had been too hard on the old man.
“For you, this place, this house, reminds you of when Mom was sick. And I get that. But it was where she was happiest, even through her illness. And Dad knows that. I think it’s where he feels her presence the most still. If he needs to cling to that a bit to get through it, who are we to fight him on it?”
“Okay. I hear you. He does seem…happy, in his own sort of way.”
Mike laughed. “Yeah. I’m not sure happy is the right word. Maybe peaceful.”
