Noah narrowed his eyes. “I’ll mow your lawn for a month.”
“I have a yard boy.”
“Clean your gutters all summer.”
“The yard boy takes care of that, too.”
“Fine.” Noah let out a weary sigh. “I’ll plan the next festival.”
Franny’s eyes lit up. “ClamFest?”
“If that’s what’s on the schedule,” Noah said, looking reluctant.
Evie was glancing back and forth between them, trying to keep up. “It’s OK,” she whispered to Noah. “I don’t want to put you out. This isn’t your problem!”
But he was still staring straight at Franny, determined. “ClamFest,” he repeated.
“And the Sweetbriar Cove Bake-Off,” Franny continued, smirking. “A cake-walk through town celebrating all the entries would be fun, don’t you think?”
“Sounds good to me,” Noah replied. He stuck out his hand, and Franny shook it, looking victorious.
“Wonderful.” Franny beamed. She turned back to Evie. “Leave the paperwork with me. I’ll have a word with Harry, and we’ll get those permits set,” she said with a smile.
Evie blinked. Just like that?
“Thank you!” she exclaimed, shocked.
“No, thank you,” Franny said. “And if you need anything else, please let me know. I could use a willing volunteer for the Fourth of July festivities …”
“Don’t push your luck!” Noah laughed, steering Evie out of the room.
She followed him back outside, her head still spinning from the quick change in her luck.
Or rather, from the man who’d made her luck change.
Even though she was filled with relief and gratitude, a part of her still despaired. Why did he have to be this way? It would be easier if he was just the arrogant playboy he’d made himself out to be that first week in town.
And not the best man she’d ever known.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, as they emerged into the evening sun. “I’ll pay you back, somehow. Help with the festival plans or—”
“Don’t even mention it,” Noah interrupted. He looked over and gave her a quiet smile. “You’ve worked so hard on the inn. I’m happy to help.”
Their eyes locked, and Evie felt a rush of pure longing so strong, she almost reached for him. It would be so easy to close the distance between them.
It would be so easy to fall back into his arms again.
Where she belonged.
“Noah …,” she began, wanting to explain, but then she remembered the day after Glen died: the day she’d spent on the bathroom floor. Unable to move. Unable to breathe with the grief of it all.
It had broken her so completely. Was she really about to risk that kind of pain again?
Evie fell silent. “Thanks again,” she said quickly, looking away. “You’ve been a big help.”
“Any time.”
Noah lingered a moment longer, as if he was waiting for her to say something more. “I miss you,” he said suddenly. “I know you said you needed space, but if you ever want to talk … as friends, I mean. Well, I’m here for you. Always. That won’t change.”
Oh.
Just when she thought she had the willpower to keep her distance, he went ahead and said something like that.
Evie’s heart trembled with needing him, but she knew her resolve was barely hanging by a thread. “I want to,” she said softly. “I wish I could, but …”
But if she looked into his eyes again, she’d fall completely.
If she let herself love him, her heart would never be the same.
She looked away. It took all the strength she had to hitch up her purse and fake a smile. “I better get back to the inn,” she said brightly, ignoring the aching bullet wound in her chest. “I’m on a deadline now!”
“Right. Sure.” Noah nodded slowly and gave her a smile that just about destroyed her. “Good luck with it all.”
She hurried away before he could see her cry.
19
It was over.
Noah was no fool, he could read the signs. And every sign in the universe was telling him that Evie wanted nothing more to do with him. All those hopes, all his foolish plans, they were good for nothing.
All over again.
The morning after he saw her at Town Hall, he woke in a beast of a mood, and no cup of coffee in the world was strong enough to soothe him.
“Did I curse out your mother or something, Montgomery?”
Noah stared blankly at the chief. The whole crew was gathered for their morning meeting, and he’d been hoping to keep a low profile until he could escape. “Uh …”
“I only ask because you’ve been staring at me like you want to commit bloody murder,” the chief went on. “Get out of the wrong side of someone’s bed this morning?”
Noah scowled. He’d woken up alone and didn’t need the reminder. “Real funny.”
“I thought so.” The chief grinned. “I heard you enjoyed our fundraiser so much, you’re moonlighting as the new town party planner. What do you think, guys—anyone have a wedding to plan?”
“My four-year-old’s birthday is next week,” Jenna put in, grinning. “How do you feel about a clown’s outfit?”
“I think he’d pull it off,” someone else joked.
“Or the other moms would pull it off him.” They all laughed, and Noah felt himself just about ready to snap.
“Is this comedy night?” he demanded, getting to his feet. “Because some of us came here to work.”
The chief’s smile dropped, and Jake quickly stepped between them.
“Didn’t you need someone to go check the fire codes at the Sandy Lane Hotel?” Jake said, diffusing the tension. “Noah can head out there now.”
There was a pause. “Fine.” The chief gave Noah a warning glare. “But see that you find a better mood before you get back.”
Noah left without another word. He didn’t need a lecture from his boss—or a pep talk from Jake, either.
He just needed Evie.
But that wasn’t going to happen, and he couldn’t shake the feeling, deep down, that it was his fault. He’d backed off, when maybe what she’d needed was reassurance that he could show up and weather the storm. He’d left her alone to wrestle with her old grief and guilt when maybe he should have been by her side, no matter what she was going through.
So much for Mackenzie’s good advice. Now he’d missed his chance to be there for Evie, and he only had himself to blame.
Noah pulled into the service driveway at the Sandy Lane Hotel, hoping he was just there for a routine inspection. He found Brooke surrounded by a crowd of people in reception—someone was squawking about gluten-free canapes—so he just waved and indicated he was heading to the kitchens.
“Thanks, Noah!” Brooke said. “I’ll be right there. As soon as we vet the menus for artificial flavors,” she added quickly to the woman beside her, before she could start squarking again.
“And the dog food, too,” said the woman. “My Jemima has a very sensitive stomach.”