When August Ends(33)

He stopped eating for a moment. “I hope you don’t take offense to this, but I wanted to kill your father tonight.”

I sighed. “I can relate.” Looking up at the starry sky, I said, “You know, Opal used to ask me how I could forgive him so easily for leaving us. I never could come up with an answer that pleased her. But the truth was, for me, it wasn’t that complicated. He’s my father, and therefore I’ve always loved him—maybe when I shouldn’t have. All I ever wanted was his love and support. He never gave us anything but the bare minimum required by law. That didn’t matter to me, because I just craved his attention. It’s not the money, you know? It’s the message that his wanting to take it sends. It’s the realization that I don’t mean as much to him as I thought I did.” A tear fell from my eye.

Noah reached out and wiped it with his thumb. “He’s a fool. You deserve so much better than that. He doesn’t even know you. That much was clear to me.”

“Well, I never really let him in.”

“Don’t make excuses for him. It’s not your fault. He’s the parent. You’re the child. It’s his responsibility to make you feel safe and loved, and he’s doing a damn shitty job. He doesn’t realize how lucky he is to have you. My father would’ve killed to have a daughter like you.”

I rubbed my eyes and smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah. He ended up with two cruddy sons, but he always wanted a little girl.”

“He can adopt me.” I laughed. “Nah. Then I’d have an awkward crush on my stepbrother. That would be weird.”

He closed his eyes for a moment.

“I’m kidding,” I said. I wasn’t.

Noah dipped his finger in the chocolate frosting and dabbed it on the tip of my nose.

Once again, a point in time with him had become my happiest moment of the day.





CHAPTER TWELVE




* * *



NOAH




I was becoming more cognizant of the fact that my time at the lake was limited. The property was officially on the market, and today the very first potential buyers were taking a tour.

I ended up clearing the entire kitchen table so I could get the guinea pig cage off the floor. Their cage was a little unsightly for visitors, but they were damn cute. I never had brought them back to Heather’s. I was probably crazy for taking them in permanently, but I was growing attached to their little rodent asses.

I’d told Heather to let me know when someone was coming to see the property, that I could leave the boathouse during the showings. So when she’d called me earlier to tell me someone had made an appointment, I took a ride to a local discount furniture store to kill time.

One of the things missing from the boathouse was a place for people to sit. I thought it might look nice for potential buyers if there was a small sofa there—something other than just the bed to make the space seem like a home, rather than a glorified bedroom. There was barely space for anything else, but there was just enough room to make it work if I moved the bed a certain way. It also crossed my mind that one of the main reasons I never invited Heather inside was because there was no comfortable place for us to sit together except for the bed. By adding a piece of furniture, I could invite her inside without it feeling awkward.

I picked up a small loveseat from the furniture store and loaded it in the back of my truck.

By the time I returned to the boathouse, the showing was over. I could tell they had already been inside because a chair was misplaced.

“How did it go?” I asked the guinea pigs.

I grabbed some chopped cucumbers from the fridge and fed my furry friends with chopsticks. That was always calming for me.

Afterward, I went back out to the truck and set the loveseat up in the corner of the room, right across from the television.

Plopping myself down on it, I remembered it was Heather’s night off. I wondered if I should ask her if she wanted to come over and watch a movie.

Why does the thought of that make my pulse race?

Ever since the morning I’d caught her snooping on me, I hadn’t been able to shake it. As crazy and inappropriate as the whole thing was, her little voyeur act had made it into my fantasies several times since. I couldn’t step into the shower anymore without imagining her outside that window, listening in or even watching while I took care of business. The whole thing was kind of freaky to begin with, because while she had thought I was screwing Kira in the shower that morning, I’d actually been getting off to thoughts of her. Pretty freaking ironic.

I’d almost messed up that day, too. Though I wasn’t going to act on my impulses, I somehow needed her to understand she didn’t need to worry about me and Kira. As fucked-up as it may sound, even if I had an interest in Kira—which I didn’t—I would never do anything to hurt Heather while I was here.

I had needed her to know that, and in the process, I’d lost control of my feelings when I touched her—a poor judgment call that likely confused her. I’d been trying lately to act as “normal” as possible to reverse whatever mixed signals I’d sent her that day. Part of that meant not avoiding her or acting any differently. So I suppose that could be an argument in favor of inviting her over for a movie tonight.

After a half-hour of going back and forth about it, I picked up the phone and dialed her.