When in Rome(49)
“Well, thank you for this.” I hold up my palm showing her the bandage. “I’m sorry you had to deal with me last night and all the glass, too.”
She smiles softly. “It’s no problem. Besides, romance or not, it’s nice to know that you think I’m pretty and sweet.” She blinks playfully. “Like powdered sugar.”
And that’s my cue to leave. With another groan, I take my mug with me toward the bathroom. She follows, like a puppy nipping at my heels. “Is it really true, Noah? Does the Grumpy Pie Shop Owner really think I’m sweet like powdered sugar?”
I try to shut the bathroom door, but she sticks her foot in the way so I can’t close it. I set the mug on the counter and look down at her. “Right now you’re just a pain in my ass,” I say, not realizing until I glance in the mirror that I said it with an overly indulgent smile.
She angles her chin up to me. “But you think I’m a pretty pain in the ass?” She says it softer this time, still playful but her tone conveys what she’s really asking. She wants to know if I meant what I said. I guess I’ll be walking a tightrope for the remainder of the time Amelia is under my roof. I like her. She likes me. And we have intense chemistry between us that I can’t indulge.
I hold her gaze and take a deep breath. “Everyone thinks you’re pretty. You know this.”
She doesn’t let me off the hook. “But do you?”
My eyes drop for a fraction of a second to her mouth, and I remember all too well how much I wanted that kiss last night, and still feel the desire today. “I always mean what I say.” I teeter a little on the tightrope. “Now, can we let it go and act like adults about all this?”
She laughs lightly. “That’s way too much to ask.” She turns away, grabbing hold of the bathroom door and pulling it closed behind her. But just before she shuts it, she peeks her head back in, eyes falling unashamedly over my chest and torso before looking in my eyes again. “But just so you know, I think you’re pretty, too.”
She shuts the door, and I don’t want to, but I smile again.
Chapter 19
Amelia
Noah and I hitchhiked into town. Hitchhiked! He left his truck near the shop last night, so after he finished his shower and came out of the bathroom smelling like a divine being from the depths of a woodland forest, he asked if I’d like to check the first item off my list. We walked down to the road to hitch a ride into town.
It wasn’t as thrilling as I had hoped, though. Despite using the words hitch a ride he had already called his friend James and asked him to pick us up at the end of the driveway. So now I’m sandwiched between two beautiful men and bobbing my way into town, fully intending on telling Susan that I hitchhiked during my time away and allowing her to conjure up fantasies of me in an 18-wheeler beside a big burly man with tattoos and a lecherous smile.
James is nice, though. He has a sunny disposition and wants to know how I’m enjoying my time away from the big-city life. He’s full of ideas of places I should explore and things I should do while I’m here. Most of his sentences start like this: “Oh, Noah! You know what she should do?…” And “Noah! You oughtta take her to…” I’m realizing that he seems to think Noah and I are a package deal, and for some reason, I’m not mad about it.
Noah, however, is back to his grunty self—pressing himself against the truck door so our arms don’t brush. Yesterday I would have thought it was because he found me annoying. Now, after the Kiss Request, there’s a new piece of this puzzle falling into place and it looks like Noah telling me I’m pretty and sweet. I’m powdered sugar. I don’t think he hates me after all. I think he likes me a little and that scares him.
James drops us off at the front of the town square with a little wave, saying he’s headed out of town to take an order of produce to a local market. When his truck drives off, it’s just me and Noah, standing here like two phone poles.
I bite the corner of my mouth and look for something to say, because I’ve realized I can’t wait for Noah to speak first or we’ll become silent monks. “So…what store should we—”
“The flirty stuff between us has to stop,” he blurts.
I laugh incredulously. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
If someone was watching us from a distance, they would think Noah is standing on a tack. “You and me. Flirting. Or whatever that was this morning…it has to stop. We’re not—we’re friends. That’s all.”
“Noah.” I turn to fully face him and make some serious eye contact. “You have to stop worrying. I’m not looking for a relationship either. We are allowed to be two adults who talked about kissing that don’t plan on doing it again, and to admit that the other is attractive without jumping into a romantic relationship.”
Some of the tension in his face melts away. He nods thoughtfully. “Okay. I just didn’t want to lead you on.”
I sort of want to burst out laughing. I love that he treats me like this…as if I’m just a normal woman he met when her car broke down in his front yard. Most men wouldn’t have the guts to say something like that to me. Wouldn’t have the guts to turn me down in the first place. There’s no pressure with Noah, and although I could totally see myself falling for him if I lived in this town, I know that my life will come calling shortly and I’ll have to go. Friendship works better.