Come Together by Marie Force
Chapter Three
“It is when we hurt that we learn.”
—Steve Maraboli
Why couldn’t she have just gone along with him when he said they were communicating, not fighting? If she’d done that, he wouldn’t be showering and shaving the scruff off his face to go back out. No, he’d be throwing logs on the woodstove and settling in for a long winter’s night of reading. Instead, he had to go another ten rounds with the architectural equivalent of Muhammad Ali. She exhausted him.
And she turned him on.
God, he hated that. He hated to be feeling anything resembling desire for the first time in three long years—long enough that he’d worried the plumbing had broken—only to have it return for someone who drove him mad.
She wasn’t even his type, for Christ’s sake. He usually went for the frosty blondes, but Brianna had curly dark hair, curves on top of her curves and sharp brown eyes that didn’t miss a trick. One of his guys had referred to her as a “smoke show.”
Noah had asked him what that meant.
“You know, smokin’ hot,” the young man had said, looking at Noah as if he were ancient.
It wasn’t possible to be more “out of it” than he was. No cell phone, no social media, a TV he rarely turned on, a computer he used only for billing and work-related activities and little to no contact with people other than the men at work. And he kept his distance from them. He’d learned the hard way not to get too buddy-buddy with his employees.
After Mrs. Hendricks had dropped her bomb—and her coupon—on them, Noah had spent the rest of the day supervising the redo of the fireplace. His foreman, Carlo, had been full of apologies for misreading the plans.
Noah had told him not to worry about it, but he couldn’t help yearning for Miguel, who’d been with him for years before everything between them went to shit in the most spectacular way possible. Before that horrible day, Miguel had been the other half of Noah’s brain. He didn’t ever have to be supervised or told what to do. He just knew.
In the end, Noah had paid a hefty price for trusting his foreman so implicitly, but he didn’t wish to think about that nightmare when he needed every ounce of fortitude he could muster to deal with the current one.
A night out with Brianna Esposito was his idea of hell. What would they talk about? Ugh. Mrs. Hendricks was a lovely lady. She’d once been his Cub Scout leader when he and her son Jud had been kids. After Noah’s father left their family, Mrs. H had started driving Noah to all the activities he and Jud did together—football, baseball, basketball and Scouts. Often, she’d drop off a meal, claiming she’d made way too much of whatever her family was having for dinner, and somehow ended up with more than enough to feed nine extra people.
Noah had been old enough to know how dire their situation had been, and the kindness of people like Mrs. H, as he’d called her then, had gone a long way. He’d never forget it. That was why, when she asked him to take Brianna to dinner at the Pig’s Belly Tavern, he would take Brianna to dinner at the Pig’s Belly Tavern.
Even if he didn’t want to.
He soooo didn’t want to.
He was dying to get back to the spy thriller that’d kept him up way too late the night before. He’d been thinking about the story all day and wanted to know what happened next. But nope, that wasn’t happening. Not until later, anyway.
He found a navy sweater his sister Izzy had given him for Christmas and pulled it on over his usual thermal Henley and the well-worn jeans that counted as “dress up” jeans because he’d never worn them to work. And they were clean. With that, he’d put more effort into his appearance than he had in years.
What did it matter what he wore or how he looked? Who cared? Not him, that was for sure. He didn’t care about much these days, except his family and his job. That was about the extent of the things that got any time, mental energy or emotion from him. They were all things that were, for the most part, incapable of hurting him in any significant way.
Noah had learned to avoid people and situations that could cause him grief. He’d had enough of that for one lifetime.
Ten minutes before leaving, he used the remote to start his truck and get the heat going. He bundled up and headed out into the frozen wilderness that was Northeastern Vermont in the winter and got into the still-freezing truck cab.
After work, he’d spent ten minutes collecting the discarded coffee cups and other trash that had accumulated on the floor of the passenger side. No one ever rode in his truck but him and occasionally one or both of his aunt and uncle’s dogs when he was taking care of them.
His life was dull and boring, and he liked it that way. He’d taken a walk on the wild side of the road and found out what can happen when the wild side goes bad, and he never wanted to experience that again. He was better off staying in his lane and not risking things he couldn’t afford to lose, such as his heart, his sanity and his ability to trust anyone other than family members.
And yes, he was self-aware enough to know that bitterness was the reason for his disconnectedness. But that was now so much a part of who he was that he wouldn’t recognize himself without it. His first experience with the emotion had come from what his father had done so many years ago, and then life had dealt him new cards that added to his stores of bitterness.
As he drove to the house Brianna was renting near his cousin Will’s place, Noah tried to think of things he might talk to her about over dinner. It would serve his digestion—and hers—if they stayed away from anything to do with the project that had put them in this predicament in the first place.
People were always interested in what it had been like to grow up as one of eight siblings and ten close first cousins who’d been like extra brothers and sisters to him. That was probably a safe topic. He could tell her about the years he lived in California when he’d attended USC on a full scholarship for mechanical engineering. While there, he’d survived an earthquake that registered a 6.9 on the Richter scale and killed people two blocks from where he’d lived at the time. That made for a good story.
Hopefully, that would be enough to get them through the appetizer part of the meal.
Noah couldn’t overstate his level of dread for this outing.
He pulled into her driveway and thought of his school friend Kent Barclay who’d lived in the house when they were kids. His dad had split the year after Noah’s dad left. They’d had that in common. Kent had once joked that Noah’s dad had given his father the idea to cut and run. Noah wondered where Kent was now and whether his family still owned the house.
A light was on over the front door. Did that mean Noah was supposed to go to the door to get her?
No, that would make this too much like a date, which it was not.
Noah didn’t date anymore. He hooked up once in a while with a friend from high school who’d been through a nasty divorce—weren’t they all bad?—and was now a struggling single mother to three kids. Glenda was a nice person, and they had fun in bed together every couple of months, but that was all it would ever be, because neither of them wanted anything more than the physical release.
Wanting more led to ruin, which they’d both learned the hard way.
He was about to beep the horn to let Brianna know he was there when the door opened, and she appeared in the doorway, framed by the glow of the outside light.
She flashed him the one-minute sign and turned away from the door.
Her sidewalk was framed by three feet of snow on each side from four different snowstorms. This time of year, the snow tended to pile up, one storm on top of the other. Noah wondered if she shoveled her walk or paid someone else to do it.
People who hadn’t grown up in Vermont tended to be overwhelmed by the amount of snow they got. His brother’s fiancée, Emma, and her sister Lucy, married to Noah’s cousin Colton, had grown up in New York City. He’d heard Emma say once that she’d had no idea it was possible to get as much snow as they got in Vermont and not be buried under it. She said she had dreams about being stuck under a ton of snow and trying to find her way out.
“I’d come looking for you,” Grayson had said with the goofy, lighthearted smile he wore all the time now that Emma and her daughter, Simone, were in his life.
Noah was glad Gray was happy. He’d shouldered far more than his share of the load after their dad left, and he deserved to find someone who made him smile all the time.
However, Noah was never going down that road again. He was happier alone, and he was okay with that.
Brianna came out of the house and turned to use her key to lock the dead bolt.
Back before their pristine state had become a hub for heroin, oxy and other drugs, no one had ever locked their door. Now, he never left home without locking up and was glad that Brianna did, too, although that had probably become a habit after living in Boston.
He didn’t like her very much, but he certainly didn’t want anything to happen to her.
She walked slowly and carefully down the sidewalk to the driveway.
Get out and get her door for her.
His grandfather’s voice was so deeply ingrained in him that Noah couldn’t help but want to heed the directive from Elmer.
I’m not getting the door for her because that’s date bullshit. This is not a date.
Because his grandfather had raised him to be somewhat of a gentleman, Noah leaned across the bench seat to open the door for her. When he realized she was almost too short to use the step to get in, he offered her a hand that she gratefully accepted.
The second his hand connected with hers, a jolt of energy traveled up his arm, and he immediately understood he’d made a significant error by touching her. He let go the second her ass connected with the seat.
It took about three seconds for the captivating scent of woman to overtake the small space.
Great.
If only it weren’t so butt-ass cold, he’d put down the window to flush out the extremely appealing scent. But since that wasn’t feasible, he had to live with it and the fucking boner that Brianna’s nearness had caused.
“Thanks for picking me up. I’m not a big fan of driving around here in the dark, with the moose that stands in the road and the various life-ending drop-offs.”
“You heard about the moose, huh?”
“Uh, yeah, like on day one. Wasn’t it your cousin’s wife who hit him?”
“Yep. Cameron met Fred about one mile into the town of Butler. Will found her knee-deep in mud with her face and car smashed up, and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“I can’t believe she stayed here after that.”
“I think she stayed for my cousin, but you’d have to ask her that.”
“Nothing could keep me here after this job is finished.”
“Is it safe to assume you don’t like our little corner of the world?”
“Very safe to assume. The snow is ridiculous, there are moose in the road, every mile you drive is like a video game—and not the fun kind where you can crash into stuff and walk away unscathed—there’s nothing to do, and the people are grumpy.”
“All people or one in particular?”
“One in particular. Unfortunately, the one I’m forced to spend the most time with.”
Noah winced even as he tried not to laugh. He had to give her points for putting it right out there. “Well, other than the grumps, Butler is a great little town, especially this time of year. People come from all over to ski on Butler Mountain.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her wrinkling her nose. “I’ve never understood the attraction of spending hours in the cold to sled down a mountain standing up.”
“Have you ever done it?”
“No, because I hate being cold.”
“If you dressed properly, you wouldn’t be cold.”
“Yes, I would. I’m always cold, which is another reason why Butler and I don’t get along.”
“What’re you wearing for underwear?”
“Excuse me?”
Noah laughed at her indignant tone, and yes, he was aware that he’d laughed twice since she got in the car. He hadn’t expected to find anything about this evening funny. “I meant long underwear. What kind is yours?”
“The usual thermal stuff, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Granted, but they sell this silk stuff at the store that’s a thousand times better than the thermal stuff. I’ll get you some.” The words were out of his mouth before he could weigh the impact of offering to buy her underwear.
You don’t like her, remember?
Trust me, I remember, but that doesn’t mean I want her to suffer in the cold if she doesn’t have to.
Shut up.
You shut up.
No, you.
There, she had him arguing with himself. He couldn’t help but think she’d enjoy knowing that. Not that he planned to tell her. He’d already said more than enough in the first ten minutes.
“I don’t need you to get it for me. I’ll get it.”
“Sure, whatever works, but you’ll be much warmer with that.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“You might want to invest in a long coat and better boots, too.”
“What’s wrong with my coat and boots?”
“Your coat is too short, and your boots are for style, not function. Winter is serious business up here. They can fix you up with everything you need at the store. Not that I’m plugging the family business or anything. Full disclosure, I have no stake in it.”
“Didn’t your grandparents start it?”
“They did.”
“How come you don’t have a stake in it?”
“When my uncle Lincoln became the CEO, he and my aunt Molly, who is my mother’s sister, made an offer to buy out my mom and their other siblings. Since the others didn’t have any interest in the business, they took the offer. Linc, Molly, their ten kids and my grandfather own the business in equal shares. When my grandfather dies, his portion goes to the twelve of them.”
Why was he talking so much? To her of all people? He never talked to anyone if he could avoid it.
“That’s very interesting. I love the dynamics of how family businesses work. Three brothers own my company. Two of them don’t speak to each other, which makes for a nightmare for the third one.”
“Why don’t they speak to each other?” And why do you care? Shut up. I don’t care. I’m just making conversation.
“I guess one of them slept with the other’s wife.”
“That’ll do it.”
She laughed—hard—and Noah couldn’t help but smile at the sound of her laughter. It filled the small space every bit as powerfully as her scent had.
“The husband caught her in bed with his brother, and all hell broke loose. Because they have such a successful business, they’re forced to work together still even if everyone knows why they don’t speak.”
“Awkward.” Noah’s heart ached for the brother who’d been wronged. He knew all too well what that was like. He could only thank God he hadn’t caught his wife with one of his brothers.
“Seriously.”
“Did the wife and the wrong brother end up together?”
“Nope, which makes it worse, in my opinion. If you’re going to do something like that to your brother, shouldn’t it be for true love and not just to scratch an itch?”
“First of all, I wouldn’t do that to my brother—or anyone else, for that matter.” Once it’d happened to you, you’re cured of any desire to dally with a married woman. Not that he’d ever done that. After what’d happened with his parents, it was a wonder that Noah had ever worked up the courage to get married in the first place.
Melinda had known what he’d been through with his family, and she’d still ended up in bed with the wrong man, which was why Noah trusted no one, except his own family. Hearing what’d happened with Brianna’s bosses made him wonder if even that was safe.
He stopped that thought before it could develop. His family was solid. He didn’t doubt that any of his siblings or cousins would take a bullet for him—and vice versa. There’s no way they’d ever cross lines with each other’s significant others. That was one thing in his life he was sure of.
“Where’re we going, anyway?” Brianna asked as Noah navigated the twisting, winding roads that took them into “downtown” Butler.
That’s what people called the collection of buildings that made up Elm Street, home of the Green Mountain Country Store, the diner, the inn, a bank, the post office, the requisite white-steepled church that was a staple of most New England towns, an art gallery, a pizza restaurant and a few other smaller stores. It wasn’t much, but it was home.
“A few towns over.”
“What’s this place Mrs. Hendricks is sending us to? The Pig’s Belly? Is it really called that?”
“It is, and despite the name, the food is fantastic. Some of the best barbecue I’ve ever had.”
“I assume you’ve been outside of Vermont?”
He didn’t want to be amused by her, but he was, nonetheless. “In fact, I have. I lived in Southern California for six years and traveled a lot for my job.”
“Which was what?”
“I worked for a commercial engineering firm for a couple of years after college before I came home eight years ago to start my business.”
“You’re an engineer?”
“That’s right. A licensed PE.” He assumed she knew that PE stood for professional engineer.
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“That’s just surprising.”
He didn’t want to ask. Honestly, he didn’t. He was much better off when he found her annoying. “How so?”
“I just didn’t take you for a PE.”
“What did you take me for?”
“You really want me to answer that?” she asked, her tone infused with delight.
“Yeah, probably better to leave that to my imagination.” After a long pause, he said, “I’m sorry that I’ve been unwelcoming toward you. That wasn’t my intention.”
After a very long pause, she said, “And I’m sorry that I’ve come on too strong. My boss is on me constantly about getting this job done on time and under budget, and as I mentioned, I hate being cold. Butler is cold, and that hasn’t helped my disposition.”
“Maybe if we warm you up, you’ll feel better about being here.”
Noah hoped she knew he was talking about the clothing he’d recommended and nothing else. He wasn’t available for that kind of warming. Not with her, anyway. They rode the rest of the way in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence, which was a vast improvement over what he’d expected of this evening.
He hated to admit it, but maybe Mrs. Hendricks had been right. Perhaps if they spent some time together away from the inn, they could begin to understand each other and get along better on the job.
But he refused to go so far as to start liking her.
