I laughed. “Of course.”
“Let me check to ensure that the bedroom’s warm enough.”
A few minutes later, I was standing in the bedroom, the one and only room with a bed in the house, and it suddenly felt small despite being large and spacious. Noah had one hand curled on the doorframe above as he looked at me. “Are you good for the night?”
His stance was relaxed, but his shirt had ridden up slightly with his arm lifted, revealing a strip of skin above his jeans. That, and one side of the well-defined V that disappeared behind his waistband.
When he arched a brow in question at my silence, I managed to nod, trying to get a breath in, but my lungs were doing a poor job. “All set,” I squeaked.
With a quick smile, he left, closing the door behind him. I listened to his footsteps retreat down the hallway as I sank my hips on the bed and wondered how to wrestle my body under control. If this was how I reacted to Noah every time I got close to him, it was going to be a long week.
Chapter Four
NOAH
A drop of maple syrup glistening at the corner of Sasha’s mouth caught my eyes. My body tightened, and fiery electricity sizzled through my veins. Matters were promptly made worse when her pink tongue darted out to catch that drop of maple syrup.
She finished chewing and set down her fork. “That was yummy.”
Sherry Levesque stopped by our table, smiling fondly at us. She and her husband owned Bay Bistro, the café where we’d stopped for breakfast. “I am so glad you both came in this morning.” Her gaze lingered on Sasha. “It’s lovely to see you back in town, dear. How long will you be here?”
Sasha’s smile was friendly but careful. It wasn’t that I hadn’t known her story, but the implications of how it must’ve been for her had hit me hard last night. I sensed she wasn’t sure what anyone in Haven’s Bay thought of her. Being well-versed in dealing with drama as a part of a family that had its own share of scandal in this small town, I felt intensely protective. That feeling tangling up in my raw lust for her was a confusing mix, to say the least.
“At least for the week. After that, I need to be back at work in Boston,” Sasha replied.
Sherry nodded. “Of course. How is your daughter?”
“She’s great. Thanks for asking.”
Sherry’s attention was drawn away when another customer gestured for her. Glancing back, she cast us another warm smile. “You let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
After Sherry hurried off, Sasha lifted her coffee and took a swallow. This morning, she dressed unassumingly again. She wore fleece leggings with an open blouse over a fitted tank top. She’d shed her bulky down jacket once we got inside.
After making a quick pot of coffee out at the house, we’d decided to come out for breakfast when I discovered the limited options for pots and pans in the kitchen. When my father lost almost everything, the only thing my eldest brother had been able to keep for our family was the old family home. That said, somewhere along the way, just about everything in it had been auctioned off.
Collectively, we were gradually refurbishing the house. None of us lived here, though, so it was happening in fits and starts.
Bay Bistro was a favorite local café that served brunch, lunch, and dinner. Emile and Sherry Levesque, an old Haven’s Bay family, owned it as well as several other businesses in town, including the main grocery store and another restaurant.
“Has your daughter ever been to Haven’s Bay?” I asked.
Sasha nodded. “A few times. Though she never even stayed in the house where I grew up. My parents sold it.”
I held her gaze for a beat before commenting, “I hate thinking about how everything went for you.”
“There’s no need. Like I told you last night, I landed on my feet. We’re doing fine, better than fine. Quinn’s a straight-A high school student. She has friends, and hopefully, she’ll be off to college in a few years. I can’t even believe that’s almost here.”
“I bet not. I don’t even have a baby yet. I certainly can’t imagine having a child about to go off to college in a few years.”
Sasha rolled her eyes, her lips twisting. “Yeah, most people anywhere close to my age can’t imagine it. It’s great for dating,” she said, sarcasm lacing her tone.
I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Trying to date as a single parent is hard enough, but it tends to raise eyebrows when people realize I’m thirty-one and have a fifteen-year-old daughter.”
“What the hell is wrong with that?”
She lifted a hand, letting it fall to the table. “I don’t know. I’ve given up on dating. It’s not like I have much time, as it is.”
“You didn’t mention what you do for work,” I commented. It was crazy Sasha hadn’t been snapped up by some man intelligent enough to realize she was not only smart and strong but also fucking beautiful and sexy as hell.
“I’m a paralegal, and I lucked out because I love my job. I had an internship at a smaller but very well-established law firm in Boston. The woman who I interned for offered me a job, and I’ve been there ever since. The pay is good, and I love her. I work my ass off, but that’s fine. I’ve never minded doing hard work.”
“It’s a pretty sweet deal having a good boss and doing a job you enjoy when it comes to work.”
“Exactly.”
At that moment, a couple passed by our table. The woman glanced our way and then did a double-take when she saw Sasha. Sasha glanced up, her eyes turning steely, and her lips pressing in a line.
After the couple moved out of earshot, I asked, “Who is that?” I vaguely recognized them, but I couldn’t quite place them.
“Friends of my father’s. She used to be his secretary. I was never a fan. Even though it’s old news that I got pregnant in high school, it’s strange to be back here. When I left, I felt like everybody thought I was a whore.”
“Fuck them all,” I said flatly. “That’s ridiculous. Not to mention, what did everybody think of the father?”
Sasha’s gaze hardened. “That he wasn’t responsible. It was Jonathon Smith, and his parents were horrified. It was my own mistake. He’s never had anything to do with her or paid one penny of child support. His sister is the only one I’ve had contact with in that family. She reached out after college. She’s not close to her parents, and she’s the one who took Quinn on the ski trip. She lives in Western Mass and stops by whenever she’s in Boston. Years later, after calling me a whore to my face when I was fifteen, Jonathon’s mother reached out and wanted to meet Quinn, but she didn’t want me to be there. I refused.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said firmly, that sense of protectiveness sharpening inside me. “She doesn’t need to meet people who treated you that way and weren’t there for you in any way.”
“I actually asked Quinn what she wanted,” Sasha said, grimacing slightly. “Because if it was something she wanted, I would’ve let her meet her. She didn’t. Maybe that’ll change, and I’ll have to figure out what to do. She’s old enough now that all I can do is try to support what she wants and hope no one hurts her.”