How to Love Your Neighbour(29)

“What?” Noah said, holding his arms out. “What?”

“Dude. You brought a motivational speaker?” a kid with one half of his head shaved, the other half sporting shoulder-length hair, said.

“Something like that,” Rob said, opening the duffel. “He’s also a friend of mine and when I told him about you scoundrels and us needing another player, he jumped at the chance. Which you’d know if you showed last time. He also brought us some swag.” Rob tossed out bright blue jerseys with each of the kids’ names and numbers on the back.

Five out of six of the kids took those jerseys, stared at them with some reverence, then whipped them on over their heads. Leo, however, held his in a tight-fisted grip.

“Why’d you bring these?” He stared directly at Noah.

“Because Rob said you needed jerseys.”

“So you got money? You’re gonna flash it around, make yourself feel like a Good Samaritan, give us some gifts, maybe get some tax breaks.”

Rob sighed, stepped toward Leo. Noah put a hand on his shoulder and stepped forward instead.

He went toe-to-toe with the kid, seeing that he was only a few inches shorter than his own six feet.

“Leo.”

The kid gave him a “duh” look that almost made Noah smile. Instead, he held his jaw tight, kept his gaze free of emotion. Every negotiation required a different approach.

“The jerseys are a gift because I heard you needed some. I have money but I’m hoping you don’t hold that against me. I came to play some basketball. Whether you wear that jersey or not won’t affect my ability to beat you.”

They stared at each other, and more than that, he could feel the others staring at them. The sound of the ball hitting the court stopped.

Leo’s chest puffed out. “Like last time?”

Noah pursed his lips, did his best not to grin. “I was being nice.”

Something almost friendly sparked in Leo’s dark eyes. “Hope you got insurance, old man.”

Noah laughed, stepped away, and bounced the ball out of the youngest kid’s hand. “Should the rest of you tell me your names before Rob and I school you on how it’s done?”

The kids whooped and hollered, called out some trash talk that reminded Noah how much he’d missed this sort of thing. On the court, on the water, pounding his feet on the pavement during a good run . . . everything else fell away. His focus was pure and easy. He wasn’t his father’s son or a brother. He was just a guy who loved what he was doing. Like when he was closing a really great deal, in the middle of an awesome negotiation. When his grandfather had smiled at him like he believed Noah could change the world.

“You two against the six of us.”

“They can’t handle that.”

“They’ll be limping away crying.”

Rob and Noah exchanged amused glances, then dove in, spending the next hour getting their asses handed to them by a group of kids who had a hell of a lot of skill when they worked as a team.

It was one of the few times since he’d arrived in California that he felt like he’d made the right decision.





13


“You’ve been gone almost two weeks and all you’ve done is paint a room?” Morty set his fork down, his irritated scowl burrowing under Grace’s skin.

“Sorry I’m not moving fast enough for you,” she replied, picking up a crinkle fry.

“Don’t you say sorry, honey. You have a life. You just moved, you’re finishing up school. There’s no rush, is there? You’re making a home not winning a race. You leave her alone, Morty, you old grump.”

“Not what you called me last night,” he said with a harrumph.

Grace set her fork down and covered her ears. “Gross.”

Tilly laughed, reached out and pulled Grace’s hand away from her ear. “He’s all talk, sugar. Now. Tell us about the neighbor Morty mentioned.”

Grace narrowed her eyes in his direction. “You told her about my neighbor?” Whom she’d been doing her best not to think about even while finding office ideas for him.

“What? I just said the guy who lived in the fancy house next door to yours wanted to pay too much for your place and was eyeing you up in a way I didn’t like.”

Grace laughed, using her napkin to wipe her fingers. “Is there anything you do like?”

“Half price at the movies,” he said, smacking his hand on the table.

Tilly shook her head, getting up to clear plates. Grace stood up to do the same, putting a hand on Morty’s shoulder as she passed. His grouchy persona was mostly bluster. Though his cheapness was the real deal. He loved to save a buck. When she’d first started working for him, he’d had no problem sending her clear across town to save forty cents on a can of something he wanted.

Morty patted her hand, his weathered skin brushing over her own. When she started to pull away, he squeezed, looking up at her. “You’ve got some mail.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him, thinking the look in his eyes was more emotional than the moment called for.

It wasn’t until they were settled in the living room with dessert, an unnecessary fire adding an extra glow to the room, that Morty cleared his throat, sat up straighter like he was about to give a speech.