How to Love Your Neighbour(69)
“Be one hundred percent honest,” he said, weaving through the traffic.
Her tummy tumbled with the serious tone. “Of course.”
“Would you rather visit Mi Casa or have those brownies?” He asked with such mock seriousness that Grace tried really hard to answer in kind.
“I’m not sure what kind of man would make a woman choose.”
After he pulled onto the kitschy street that housed her favorite store, he found a parking spot, then turned his body toward her, pulling her close with the hand he still held.
“Obviously not a smart one.”
When his mouth met hers, Grace had to remind herself that she deserved to live her life, not just wait for it to happen. It was happening now. Falling for Noah didn’t mean leaving all her dreams in the dust. No other guy made her worry about her ability to keep her focus. But clearly, given the brownies and the first stop on their date, Noah Jansen was unlike any other man she’d ever known.
31
Noah hurried around the front of his truck to open Grace’s door. Why was he so nervous? He’d gone into multimillion-dollar-deal meetings with less anxiety rumbling around in his gut than he’d felt today.
He opened the door, held out a hand to help her down. She was stunning. What she couldn’t know, what he knew she wouldn’t believe, was even in jeans and tank top, all that sexy hair tied back in a cascading braid, she was the most enticing woman he’d ever known.
“You’re looking at me funny,” she said, lifting her chin to meet his gaze.
He pressed a kiss on her nose. “That’s better than being funny-looking so take what you can get.”
Her laughter made him feel like a king. He slung his arm around her shoulders while they waited for the cars to pass so they could cross the street.
“I want to go surfing here,” he mentioned as they walked across.
“It’s popular.”
“You ever done it?”
She shook her head as she stepped up onto the sidewalk. Dozens of shops lined the street. The beach was only a block over, but this felt like a tiny world of its own, the palm trees standing like sentinels in front of the brightly colored shops.
“We’ll have to change that,” he said, pulling open the door to the shop she loved.
“You’re a funny, funny man.”
“You can’t live in California and not surf.” He stared at her, blocking her from stepping farther into the store.
She leaned into him and he caught the light citrusy scent of whatever she wore. His blood hummed. She was so sexy without even trying. Maybe that’s what made her different from anyone else he knew.
“Don’t spread it around but there are actually many Californians who’ve never stepped onto a surfboard. Despite the rumors, it’s not mandatory.”
Noah leaned down so their noses touched. She had the cutest nose, and he realized when the thought entered his head that if he was cataloguing that feature, he was probably in dangerously far over his head already.
“Is Grace Travis actually scared of something?”
She glared at him, moved around his body. “Nobody said scared.”
Taking her hand, he pulled her to his side. “Our little secret.”
She gave him an indulgent but exasperated look. Even that was cute. He was falling fast. “Okay, show me what you love, Gracie.”
Before she could point to the first item—her arm was already in motion—the shop’s owner greeted them, asking if they were looking for anything in particular. When they said no, she left them to wander.
It was an interesting setup that seemed to have no rhyme or reason. Different areas resembled different rooms in a home, showcasing items, antique, new, and used, that might be found in whatever area of the house it showcased.
“I’ve been thinking about getting a coatrack,” she said, stopping at a dark brown, slightly scuffed rack with black iron hooks. She ran her hand over it. “This one is cool.”
“Pretty old-school.”
She looked up at him. “That’s part of the cool factor.”
“My grandmother has one like this. My grandfather would come home from work every single night at seven o’clock for dinner, even if he had to go back to the office. He’d hang his fedora on it. We used to tease him about it all the time. The hat. He said gentlemen wore hats.”
Grace turned to face him, putting a hand to his chest. “Your voice sounds sweet when you talk about him. You were close?”
Noah nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. “We were. He was the glue. Well, he and my grandmother, but once he died, things changed.” Noah shook off the dark thoughts, thinking he should call his mom and his grams. It’d been too long. “Let’s get this for your place.”
Like she sensed he needed to gloss over the moment, she nodded. “We’ll come back to it. Come on, I want to show you something for the sitting area.”
When she stopped in front of a fireplace mantel, he didn’t get it at first. Grace ran her hand along the delicate carvings in the dark wood.
“With the white window seat, the white shelving, I feel like this would be such a great focal piece. It’s modern and elegant but also warmer than the slate or brick ones that you typically see in homes these days.”
Again, it brought back memories of his grandparents’ home. What the hell was wrong with him? He was on a date and emotions were swamping him, making him feel twelve years old again. A time when he’d thought his father was as amazing as his grandfather. When he’d thought they’d all work together, changing homes and lives in the neighborhoods of New York. When he didn’t know that life changed and not everything stood the test of time.