Balancing Act, page 11
“Oh.” Then, letting curiosity get the better of her, she asked, “So, what happened to your leg?”
Noah frowned. “Kind of a personal question, isn’t it?”
“You saw me crying into the yogurt,” Willow said with a shrug. “That pretty much did away with my inhibitions.”
Willow looked away from his keen-eyed stare and focused on her children. Emma’s blond pigtails swayed as she rocked back and forth, watching her bowling ball roll slowly down the lane. Willow should get her phone out and take a picture or two of this first, but she had a personal rule about phones at the table.
She shifted her gaze back toward him, an apology on her tongue. He spoke before she could.
“I injured my leg in a fire,” he said in a tone and manner that declared the topic closed. He followed immediately with, “So why the tears?”
Well, guess she’d asked for that, hadn’t she? Willow was spared an immediate reply by the arrival of a server carrying two glasses of beer. After setting them on the table, he asked, “Anything to eat?”
“Not for me, thank you,” Willow said with a smile. “We’ve already had dinner.”
“Large pizza. The works,” Noah said.
“You must be hungry.” Willow hoped to distract him from the topic of her tears, so she plowed ahead with food talk. “Is the pizza here good? My mother orders from Pizza Planet, and it’s pretty good. My kiddos will eat pizza every day if I let them.”
“It’s excellent here, believe it or not. Drew and Emma might want some as an after-dinner snack. Why were you crying, Willow?”
So much for distraction. Willow slid her thumb along the side of the glass, scooping up a bead of condensation as she sought an explanation that wouldn’t bare her soul.
“Is something the matter with Drew?” Noah pressed.
“Drew?” Her head came up. “Why would you ask that?”
“When he asked me to come to your family wedding, he—”
“Whoa,” Willow said, interrupting. “He what?”
“He invited me to Uncle Jake’s wedding,” he replied, the faintest gleam of a twinkle in his golden eyes. “Your brother?”
Willow nodded, sitting back hard against the padded seat of the booth as he continued. “He said you told him he could bring a friend. Apparently, he considers me his only friend in Lake in the Clouds.”
That took Willow’s breath away. Her heart twisted. “Oh, Drew. He breaks my heart. Truly he does. I’ve been trying to help him find other children his age to befriend, but it’s been challenging. I should have signed him up for youth basketball, but the season had already started when we moved here, and I decided to wait for baseball. That starts next week.” She brushed at a crumb on the table, summoned her nerve, and asked, “Did you accept his invitation?”
“What?” Noah’s brows arched. “No, of course not. I’m a recluse, don’t you know? I don’t do weddings.”
Willow didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted. “But you do bowling alleys?”
“A man needs his pizza. Nobody delivers all the way out to my place. You’re attempting to deflect. Talk to me about your meltdown. That seemed to be more than wedding jitters.”
She considered telling him it was none of his business, but that felt rude in light of the kindness he had shown her. She decided to share half the story. She told him about her in-laws’ arrival and the news Maggie had relayed about buying her a house.
“That’s some gift,” he responded. “Comes with some strings, I’ll bet.”
“Strings. Yarn. Rope. Chain. Spools and spools and spools of it.”
“You didn’t tell her to keep her house?”
“No. She literally just sprung this on me. The situation is more complicated than just a house. I need time to think everything through and speak to her with kindness. I know her heart is in the right place. They are my children’s grandparents, and they love Drew and Emma. I don’t want to alienate them. I think it’s important for children to have family in their lives.”
Had she not been watching him, she’d have missed the grimace that flashed across his face. A story there. Was Noah Tannehill a divorced father, perhaps?
His voice was rough as he added, “I know it’s tough to be a single parent.”
“Enough about me and my problems. Do you have children, Noah?”
“No.” He closed off then as sure as a submarine hatch. He picked up his beer, shifted in his seat, and watched the action on the bowling lanes. For reasons she couldn’t pinpoint, Willow wanted to cry again.
They sat without speaking for a few minutes, and the arrival of his pizza was a welcome distraction. “Try a piece,” he suggested.
Willow didn’t need a slice of pizza, but it did smell delicious, and eating would help get past this awkwardness, she hoped. “A little one, thanks.”
“Think Drew, Emma, and your aunt are ready for a pizza break?” Noah asked.
Willow shook her head. “Aunt Helen doesn’t eat pizza.”
“She’s a healthy eater?”
“Not necessarily.” Willow smiled crookedly. “You should see her pack away chicken-fried steak. No, her anti-pizza stance is somehow tied with an argument, bet, or combination of the two she had with one of her husbands. She swore she wouldn’t eat another piece of pizza the rest of her life, and as far as I know, she’s held to it.”
“Wow. That’s some dedication.”
“That’s my auntie. As far as the kids go, I can tell they’re having too much fun to want to stop.”
They observed the children for the next few minutes while they ate. Both kids appeared fascinated by the ball return. She grew concerned when Drew kept sticking his head in front of the return to peer into the void in anticipation of the ball’s arrival. “He’s going to get his head thunked if he keeps that up,” she fretted. “I’ve seen my aunt warn him twice.”
“He’ll learn.”
“The hard way,” she grumbled.
“Then he won’t forget.”
Willow sighed. “True. It’s just difficult to watch and not jump in. But he needs to learn to listen, and better he gets hit by a bowling ball than a car.”
Noah lifted his beer in a toast. “Famous words of mothers everywhere.”
At that very moment, a ball popped out from the return on the lane where the children were bowling and conked Drew on the nose. Both Willow and Noah winced as they watched the boy let out a squeal and hold his nose. Then Willow very determinedly turned away from the window and focused solely on Noah. “You’re right. The pizza is fabulous. I’ve wondered what to provide for the tear-down crew after the wedding. This will be perfect. Thank you for solving my problem.”
“You’re welcome. So, how is it that you’re planning your brother’s wedding instead of him and his bride?”
She shared the story of the New Year’s Eve destruction of their wedding venue and Willow’s reasons behind the move to Colorado. He asked her about her work as an event planner, and she told a couple of her more entertaining stories. She’d just launched into her favorite tale about a Nashville politician, a proposal, and a pickle factory when Drew and Emma rushed into the tavern, Aunt Helen on their heels.
“Mama. Mama. Mama.” Drew’s eyes glittered with excitement. “Guess what. Aunt Helen wants to have a sleepover at her house! Can we go, Mama? Please? Pretty please?”
Emma clapped her hands together. “I want to go, too, Mama. Say yes, please? Fast, because we have to be there for the cuckoo serenade, and then we’ll go right to bed.”
“Hold on. Hold on a minute.”
Willow glanced at her watch. It was twenty minutes to nine, already an hour past their bedtime. School wasn’t a problem because she’d worked ahead with Drew in anticipation of the wedding week, but they’d never stayed over at Aunt Helen’s before. She’d never invited them. “Auntie?”
Helen waved her hand dismissively. “It will be fun for us. Plus, it’ll give you a chance to have a little”—her gaze darted briefly toward Noah—“alone time before the wedding crunch begins.”
“But Maggie and Tom arrived today, and they’re planning to spend tomorrow with Drew and Emma.”
“Not a problem. I’m working a shift at the reception desk at the lodge tomorrow morning. I’ll bring Drew and Emma home before eight. In fact, we’ll stop at the bakery and bring breakfast for everyone. How about that? As I recall, the Eldridges aren’t super-early birds.”
Emma clasped her hands prayerfully and begged. “Please, Mama? Please? Auntie Helen has extra toothbrushes we can use.”
“And we’re already in our pj’s,” Drew pointed out.
“Hurry and decide, Mama. The serenade!”
Willow laughed. “Okay. Okay. Go. Go.”
The children gave her quick good-night kisses. Helen held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Keys, please. I’ll need to take your car because of the car seats.”
Willow reached into her handbag, withdrew her keys, removed the cabin key from the ring, and handed the rest over. The kids rushed toward the door, anxious to get to Helen’s before the top of the hour. “See you in the morning,” Helen said, following the kids. “Noah, I understand we’ll see you at the wedding on Saturday. Bye now.”
The wedding. Oh jeez. Willow called after her aunt. “Wait, I need your keys.”
“My car isn’t here. I rode with Stella. You’ll take her home, won’t you, Noah?” Without waiting for a response, Helen turned and followed the children, giving them a royal wave on the way out.
Willow was horrified, embarrassed all the way to her toes. “I can’t believe she just did that,” Willow murmured. She started to slide out of the booth to stand up. “I need to catch them. I am not on your way home, and that’s not—”
He reached out and took her arm, stopping her. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“But—”
“Seriously. Settle down. It’s a nice night for a drive around the lake. So, what’s the serenade?”
She closed her eyes and released a laugh with only the slightest hint of hysteria. “Cuckoo clocks. Aunt Helen has a wall of cuckoo clocks in her condo.”
“A wall of them?”
“At my last count, an even dozen. She could have added more since my most recent visit.”
“That’s… interesting.”
“Go ahead and say it. We all do. It’s cuckoo. My aunt Helen is the most levelheaded, down-to-earth person otherwise, but when it comes to her clocks, she’s a child.”
“I think that’s kind of cool. I’m not sure I’d want to try to sleep at her home, but hobbies are good.”
“Like your dollhouses?”
He hesitated a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah.”
She wanted to ask him more. After Drew visited Noah’s home, her son talked nonstop about his experience. Willow had researched dollhouses as fire-instruction tools and incorporated the information into his lessons. Drew loved it. Willow was curious about Noah’s background.
He’d said he’d injured his leg in a fire. And those scars on his hands looked like burns. Had he been a firefighter? Drew thought so, but Noah certainly wasn’t talking. Not about dollhouses. Not about himself.
But at least he was talking about some things. And, apparently, taking her home.
Like, after a date.
Willow took an extra-large sip of her beer.
“You want another one?” Noah asked.
Willow saw that he still had two-thirds of his drink left. Embarrassment stained her cheeks and she smiled sheepishly. “No, thank you. I’m good. I should probably be heading home soon. I have a full day of wedding prep tomorrow.” She grabbed a napkin and wiped crumbs off the table. Following a moment’s silence, she added, “Noah, about the wedding…”
Noah raised his hand and gestured toward the bartender for the check. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to go.”
“Of course not.” Willow winced the moment the words emerged from her mouth. “Wait—that sounds horribly rude, and that’s not what I meant. Drew invited you, and if you’d like to attend, we’d love to have you. It’s going to be a fun party. When I said ‘of course not,’ I meant why would you want to come? You don’t know the bride and groom, and you barely know us. Although the food is going to be excellent. Maybe you’d like to come for the meal? That’s as good a reason as any. In fact—”
“You’re babbling, Willow,” Noah said.
“I am. I’m sorry. I’m nervous.”
“Why are you nervous?”
Because this feels a whole lot like a date, and the idea terrifies me.
Willow had tried getting back into the dating game after Andy died, but she’d quickly thrown in the towel. Dating had changed in the past decade, but not in a good way. She wasn’t ready to go down that road again. She might never be prepared. She didn’t trust her own judgment.
He has such gorgeous eyes.
Heaven help me. Willow gave a little laugh. “Why am I nervous? Oh, let me count the ways. I’m in charge of a party for two hundred people in a new venue with new vendors on Saturday. I said the food would be excellent, but honestly, I can’t be positive. The caterer has never served this big of a crowd before. Plus, my son and daughter will be the ring bearer and flower girl, and I’ve misplaced the pillow and basket. What kind of a wedding planner am I if I can’t keep up with my kids’ stuff?”
The bartender brought the check. While looking at it, Noah asked, “Is that why you were crying into the cottage cheese?”
“It was yogurt!” Willow insisted. “Get your dairy straight. And stop responding to everything I say with a question.”
“Do I do that?” He grinned when Willow balled up her napkin and threw it at him.
“You’re deflecting. My brothers tried the same thing with me. You’re the one who got me into this mess. You can at least make a little effort here. Tell me something about yourself, Mr. Mystery Man. I dare you.”
Chapter Six
TELL HER ABOUT MYSELF? Noah had already told her more than he’d told anyone in months.
But what had he expected when he’d allowed her aunt to maneuver the two of them into the Let ’Em Fall Tavern for a beer? He’d known they wouldn’t sit here in silence. Of course she’d ask questions. Get-to-know-you queries. The type of questions one often asked on a first date.
This wasn’t a date.
But all of a sudden, it sure felt like a date.
Gee, thanks, Drew. The dratted little kid had invaded Noah’s comfortable gloom and drawn him out into the light.
Well, he’d allowed it to happen, so now he needed to pay the price. He’d allow Willow to get to know him. Up to a point.
He took a fortifying sip of his lager, then said, “All right. I grew up in Denver. I went to the University of Colorado on a football scholarship.”
“You did? What position did you play?”
“I was a kicker. I had a good leg.”
Noah frowned into his beer, wishing he hadn’t mentioned the word leg. He’d already said all he intended to say about his injury. He braced for her to ask the natural follow-up question: So why do you limp around? Instead, she said, “My brother Jake—the groom—played quarterback for the Rice Owls. His senior year, they beat Texas, which is my alma mater. He still rubs it in every chance he gets. So, what was your biggest victory in college?”
Noah relaxed. This he could talk about without being defensive. In fact, this he could talk about and have some fun with. “I guess it would have to be my senior year. I kicked a field goal with three seconds left in the game to get the win and a trip to the Rose Bowl.”
“You did?” Willow was obviously impressed. “Who did you beat?”
He finished his beer and rolled his tongue around his cheek before answering. “The Longhorns.”
She literally gasped out loud. “You did not!”
For the first time in longer than he could remember, Noah laughed. “You’re right. I kid, I kid. We were terrible.”
Willow laughed right along with him. “You are terrible.”
“But I was a good kicker. I actually got drafted by Buffalo.”
“That’s awesome. Did you play in the NFL?”
“A couple of years, yes. I was sidelined with an injury my third year, and after that, I was done with football. I had other things I wanted to do.” And that, he decided, was enough talking about himself. He tossed a pair of twenties onto the table. “So, you ready to go?”
“Let me pay for—”
“No. My invitation, my check.”
“Actually, Aunt Helen—”
Noah’s tone held a note of exasperation as he said, “I’ve got it, Willow.”
Wearing a little grin, she nodded gracefully and rose from her seat. Noah had a moment alone when she excused herself to use the restroom, and he took the time to question his sanity. What the hell was he doing?
This had definitely taken on the feeling of a date. Although it had been so long since he’d been out on a date he couldn’t be sure he remembered right.
That aunt of hers couldn’t have been more obvious with her ploy to shift this bowling distraction into the date zone. Willow had appeared just as appalled about the woman’s shenanigans as he.
Well, just because the woman tried her maneuvering didn’t mean that he and Willow had to cooperate. Even if Noah did want to date again—and he absolutely did not—no way could he date Willow Eldridge. She had a four-year-old daughter. Deal killer right there.
Damned if he wasn’t feeling a bit of regret over that truth.
Tannehill, you are not yourself tonight.
Then, it was as if he heard the echo of Daniel’s voice in his mind. Yeah, you are. You’re finally acting like yourself again. It’s about damned time you shrugged off the sackcloth and ashes. They don’t suit. You don’t deserve them.
“Well, hell,” Noah muttered.
Then, for something to do while he waited for Willow, he carried the cash for the tab over to the bar. “Thanks, Jace. Great as always.”
“Glad you enjoyed it. Say, who’s the looker you’re with tonight? I haven’t seen her in here before.”
