inspiration for—but my only claim to a day I could never get back. I’d sat on that bench every day for weeks after Noah left, replaying the day, sketching and resketching the rough concept. Withdrawing into myself a little more. Praying he’d come back. But he didn’t. And after I finished the painting, I stopped going.
• • •
As I watched Patrick go through his quick morning routine, I realized I never thought much about his life before. I was trying desperately to now. I needed something to pull my thoughts away from Noah’s revelation, and Patrick was outstanding in that capacity. He was all about distraction.
And what an odd life that would be, running a contracting company. In order to stay in demand, his men had to be available to go anywhere, and so did he. He was always mobile, always on the move to the next job.
That worked for me.
Patrick was so outside my normal realm of anything, so free-spirited and daring, that having him around there in Copper Falls all the time—actually dating —would have been horrific. We would have never made it past the pizza. Well, yeah. We would have. That night was a weak moment on my part, but there definitely wouldn’t have been a second pizza.
I kept taking deep breaths as I got dressed, trying to find normal. It wasn’t anywhere near me.
“Come on, fool, get it together,” I said under my breath.
I pulled on a pair of worn soft jeans and my favorite soft fuzzy blue sweater. Not that it mattered that it matched my eyes perfectly or anything. Because it didn’t matter. I couldn’t care less whether Noah Ryan showed up in the vicinity of the diner or anything.
It was about comfort. I never wore jeans to work. I was adamant about professionalism. Not skirts like my mother always insisted on, but it was at least slacks.
Not today.
Today, moving up from my robe was a Herculean task.
Noah was back. He was engaged to be married. He’d come to my house. And his wife-to-be was having his baby. All this was within the same twenty-four hours. My carefully structured world was wiggling. To hell with wiggling, it was swinging around like a damn lasso.
I grabbed my keys from the bowl at the bottom of the stairs and then paused, remembering Patrick was still there. I leaned over to catch a glimpse of him sitting at the kitchen island with his laptop, eyebrows knitted together as he read.
“I have to go, you okay here?” I said. The shock of my own words tingled over me. Did I just give someone free reign of my house? What if Becca played hooky again and came home to find him there? “Um, I mean—”
Patrick looked up as I walked up behind him, a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth.
“I’m done, beautiful. Don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t,” I said, attempting to cover with a savvy smile.
He closed up his computer and rose, brushing my lips with a soft kiss. “I know.” He winked at me. “Come on, let’s go kick this day in the ass.”
Nothing sounded better than that.
• • •
Knowing Ruthie would be at the store before me, lighting her ever-loving candles to get the place smelling good, I texted her that I would be late. I had a stop to make, two blocks from my house.
I pushed the doorbell button twice before remembering it was broken, and then knocked on the dark blood-red door as hard as my knuckles allowed. Two stamped envelopes were clipped with a clothespin to the old metal mailbox that hung by the door, with Nana Mae’s careful print written across them.
I heard Maddy, Nana Mae’s five-hundred-pound cat, purring at the door before her owner got there. She was the one to look at me with disdain when the door opened. Nana Mae looked at me with a surprised smile.
“Well, hell, Julianna, what brings you over here?” Nana Mae said, her wrinkles morphing into different patterns with her wide-spread smile. “I was going to stop by tonight on my walk. What’s the matter—the coffeepot broke?”
“Ha
• • •
As I watched Patrick go through his quick morning routine, I realized I never thought much about his life before. I was trying desperately to now. I needed something to pull my thoughts away from Noah’s revelation, and Patrick was outstanding in that capacity. He was all about distraction.
And what an odd life that would be, running a contracting company. In order to stay in demand, his men had to be available to go anywhere, and so did he. He was always mobile, always on the move to the next job.
That worked for me.
Patrick was so outside my normal realm of anything, so free-spirited and daring, that having him around there in Copper Falls all the time—actually dating —would have been horrific. We would have never made it past the pizza. Well, yeah. We would have. That night was a weak moment on my part, but there definitely wouldn’t have been a second pizza.
I kept taking deep breaths as I got dressed, trying to find normal. It wasn’t anywhere near me.
“Come on, fool, get it together,” I said under my breath.
I pulled on a pair of worn soft jeans and my favorite soft fuzzy blue sweater. Not that it mattered that it matched my eyes perfectly or anything. Because it didn’t matter. I couldn’t care less whether Noah Ryan showed up in the vicinity of the diner or anything.
It was about comfort. I never wore jeans to work. I was adamant about professionalism. Not skirts like my mother always insisted on, but it was at least slacks.
Not today.
Today, moving up from my robe was a Herculean task.
Noah was back. He was engaged to be married. He’d come to my house. And his wife-to-be was having his baby. All this was within the same twenty-four hours. My carefully structured world was wiggling. To hell with wiggling, it was swinging around like a damn lasso.
I grabbed my keys from the bowl at the bottom of the stairs and then paused, remembering Patrick was still there. I leaned over to catch a glimpse of him sitting at the kitchen island with his laptop, eyebrows knitted together as he read.
“I have to go, you okay here?” I said. The shock of my own words tingled over me. Did I just give someone free reign of my house? What if Becca played hooky again and came home to find him there? “Um, I mean—”
Patrick looked up as I walked up behind him, a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth.
“I’m done, beautiful. Don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t,” I said, attempting to cover with a savvy smile.
He closed up his computer and rose, brushing my lips with a soft kiss. “I know.” He winked at me. “Come on, let’s go kick this day in the ass.”
Nothing sounded better than that.
• • •
Knowing Ruthie would be at the store before me, lighting her ever-loving candles to get the place smelling good, I texted her that I would be late. I had a stop to make, two blocks from my house.
I pushed the doorbell button twice before remembering it was broken, and then knocked on the dark blood-red door as hard as my knuckles allowed. Two stamped envelopes were clipped with a clothespin to the old metal mailbox that hung by the door, with Nana Mae’s careful print written across them.
I heard Maddy, Nana Mae’s five-hundred-pound cat, purring at the door before her owner got there. She was the one to look at me with disdain when the door opened. Nana Mae looked at me with a surprised smile.
“Well, hell, Julianna, what brings you over here?” Nana Mae said, her wrinkles morphing into different patterns with her wide-spread smile. “I was going to stop by tonight on my walk. What’s the matter—the coffeepot broke?”
“Ha
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