Balancing act, p.16

Balancing Act, page 16

 

Balancing Act
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“She’s beautiful. The puppies are too precious.”

  “I repeat. You in the market?”

  Willow sighed. “Drew’s been asking for a puppy for forever. I’ve put him off because our living situation was up in the air.”

  “Is it still up in the air?”

  “Not as much as it was. This morning, I kicked the teeth out of the gift horse’s mouth.”

  Noah didn’t have to think too hard to make sense of that. “You told your kids’ grandmother you didn’t want her house.”

  “Yes. I’m not moving my family to Texas. But we’re not returning to Nashville, either. I’m putting our house on the market. What happens next is still a work in progress. And that means I’ve got a lot of big decisions to make before I’m ready to let Drew have a dog. Now, you and these precious pups have attempted to distract me from my mission. Tell me what went on between you and my mother at my brother’s wedding.”

  Since Willow appeared to be perfectly happy sitting on the workshop floor amid the puppies, he didn’t mention the desk chair again. Instead, he returned his attention to his project. Picking up his paintbrush, he explained. “Genevieve had a bit of a meltdown at the wedding, and I witnessed it. We talked. She spilled her guts. I gave her a piece of advice. Apparently, she took it to heart. That’s pretty much the story.”

  “That doesn’t tell me anything. Why did she melt down? What advice did you give her? And what on earth does it have to do with passion?”

  Noah covered another shingle the size of his fingernail in purple paint. He didn’t need to be so meticulous, but over the past couple of days, he’d found that he enjoyed the detailed work. “I picked up some signals, but I’ll be the first to say that I barely know your mother, so I could be totally wrong. Take everything I say with a grain of salt. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “She came to Colorado in search of something. I don’t think she’s found it yet. She’s jumped into projects. Projects are all well and good, but they have an ending. I told her she needed a passion. Something that doesn’t have a completion date.”

  “Oh,” Willow said, the light dawning. “Drawing lessons. She’s looking for a hobby?”

  “A passion. Something in addition to her family.” While Willow considered what he’d shared, Noah carefully placed the painted shingle on the drying tray. A dozen more to go. He picked up another one and wetted his brush.

  Meanwhile, Willow picked up and cuddled the pup who had finished his meal and become interested in the laces on Willow’s sneakers.

  “What else did she say to you?”

  “I really don’t want to get in the middle of family drama.”

  “I think it’s too late for that, Noah. Mom sent me here.” When he grimaced, she laughed. “Hey, anything is bound to be better than me thinking you’re playing Benjamin Braddock to Mrs. Robinson. I had to watch the movie again last night after the kids went to bed, you know. I couldn’t remember much about it other than the music.”

  “Great music.” Noah carefully stroked color on the tiny shingle.

  Willow gazed at him with interest. “You like Simon and Garfunkel?”

  “I do.”

  “Me, too. Although they’ve been a source of trauma for me.”

  Noah finished painting the shingle and reached for another. “How so?”

  “Oh, it was like fifteen or twenty years ago. My mother was in Las Vegas chaperoning one of my little sister’s cheerleading group competitions, and Mom went to see Simon and Garfunkel in concert at the MGM Grand. It was their Old Friends reunion tour. She splurged on a ticket way up front. I’ve heard the story so many times I feel like I was there myself. Anyway, my aunt Helen was so jealous. I mean, Wizard of Oz Emerald City green. She’s six years older than Mom, and she was growing up when they were popular. It still gets her goat when that concert gets mentioned.” Willow paused, then added reflectively, “Maybe that’s why my mind went to Mrs. Robinson so quickly.”

  Noah decided it was safe enough to tease. “Well, Genevieve is pretty hot.”

  “I know. She should have a man in her life!” Willow declared.

  “Has there been anyone since your father?”

  Willow lifted her shoulders. “No one serious. No one she brought to family events. Well, except for… hmm.” Willow scooped up a second puppy and clucked and cooed over it.

  Noah wasn’t going to ask. He wasn’t. “Hmm?”

  “It’s only a friendship thing, but she invited Gage and Zach Throckmorton to our family Fourth of July celebration in Texas last summer. Gage is a recent widower. He’s not dating. But he and Mom have become friends.”

  “She’s working with him on another project.” Noah dipped his brush in paint. “She mentioned it during her, um, our conversation.”

  “Her meltdown.” Willow set the puppies down and rose gracefully to her feet. She bent over, gave all the non-actively-nursing pups a belly rub, then wandered over to his desk and grabbed the chair he’d pointed out to her upon her arrival. Instead of turning it toward him and taking a seat as he’d expected, she tugged it over to his workbench and sat beside him. “Can I help?”

  “Can I trust you with a paintbrush?”

  She scowled at him. “Yes.”

  He handed her a clean brush, a stack of rectangular planks, and a drying tray. “These will be white.”

  “Cool.”

  He returned to his shingles. For a few minutes, they worked in companionable silence. Willow interrupted the quiet by asking, “What did my mom say about our own John Dutton?”

  “John Dutton?”

  “The television show Yellowstone? The rancher? Kevin Costner?”

  “Ah. Yeah.” Noah shrugged. “I don’t watch much TV.”

  “Never mind that. What did my mother say about Gage Throckmorton? I think they would make a great couple. He danced with Mom at the wedding. Did you see that? I had hoped that he would ask her to dance. It was part of my evil plan when I made the seating chart. So, what about Mom and Gage?”

  Once again, Noah found himself in a pickle. Well, Genevieve, if you didn’t want me spilling your secrets, you shouldn’t have sent your daughter to me. “The conversation wasn’t so much about him as it was about you. I guess Gage suggested they hire you to plan the grand-opening party for their theater renovation. It took a little wind out of your mother’s sails. She recognizes that you’ll do a fantastic job, but she had some ownership over that project and…” Noah shrugged.

  Willow winced. “Oh no. It’s just like with Jake. He swooped in and hired Tess to do the interior design for the lodge. That was Mom’s project, too.”

  Noah finished painting the final shingle and dropped the brush into a jar of water. He planned to tackle the fencing next, so he reached for a clean brush and the pot of pink paint.

  Willow carefully painted what would be the planks for a wraparound porch. Her next comment proved her mind remained on her mother. “She said she needed balance. What is she trying to balance? She is passionate about her family. I think… oh. Oh, of course. The kids. Her grandchildren. I asked her to babysit too much, didn’t I?”

  Willow groaned and closed her eyes and dropped her head back. “Of course I did. She never once told me no. She wouldn’t, would she? Not after all the times she bemoaned the fact she couldn’t babysit for me because we lived in Tennessee while she was in Texas. I was so busy with the wedding, so fretful about Drew and happy to have help whom I knew I could trust that I never stopped to look at it from her point of view.”

  Willow set down her paintbrush and a completed plank and covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I screw up so much where my mother is concerned. Once upon a time, she and I…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

  “Like mother, like daughter,” he said, his tone dry.

  Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I went over to her house to tell her the whole sad story about Andy and his girlfriend. She was on her way out of town. I’d worked myself up to finally spill all my secrets, and she gives me the brush-off.”

  “I’d like to point out that I am not and have never been trained to be a counselor. Or a priest. Confessions aren’t my area of expertise.”

  “Good, because I didn’t come here to confess anything. Even if my mother-in-law tried to make me feel like the biggest sinner on earth; I’m not so certain she’s going to talk to me again anytime soon.”

  Noah shrugged. “Her loss.”

  “Relationships are complicated, aren’t they?” Willow said with a sigh. “I have the best mother in the world. I honestly do. She and I were close until we weren’t, which was my fault. Part of that, I think, was normal growing-up stuff. Mom and I needed to learn to relate as adults in addition to the mother-child relationship. But after Drew was born, and I realized my marriage wasn’t all I’d hoped it would be, well, I closed off. I didn’t want to disappoint her.”

  Noah had enough talk about family and relationships at the moment. Abruptly, he set down his paintbrush and the piece of fence railing. “Time for the puppies to go outside to play. Want to help?”

  “Oh, I’d love that. I need something to get my mind off my problems. Guess I can use some balance myself. Just let me finish this plank first.”

  “So, are you going to take one of these puppies? Or—” Noah waggled his brows. “How about two of them? One for each kid.”

  “We can’t get a puppy, much less two of them. I’m not sure where we’ll be living in a couple of months. I have to get a job. I don’t know if we’ll stay in Lake in the Clouds, move back to Texas, or try somewhere totally new. I can’t deal with puppies and two kiddos while trying to move.”

  “Where do you want to live?”

  “I think… here.” Her teeth tugged at her lower lip for a moment. “That’s another thing I wanted to talk about with my mother. Based on the interest I’ve fielded in the wake of the wedding, I think I could establish a nice little event-planning business and work as much as I want. The kids are happy here. I thought Mom would be happy to have us here, but now I’m unsure. When she moved from Texas to Colorado, she basically ran away from home. So I have to ask myself…” Willow paused and shrugged. “Is it fair for home to follow her?”

  Noah let out a low, near-silent whistle. “Well, I’m smarter than to jump into the middle of that one. You’re on your own.”

  “Appreciate you.”

  Smirking, Noah walked over to the pen he’d fashioned to keep the puppies corralled but that still allowed Marigold the ability to come and go at will. The dog rose as Noah stepped into the enclosure. He gave the mama a good neck scratching, then observed, “You know, Willow, you pick out the puppies you want, and I’ll keep them here until you’re settled.”

  Willow snorted but didn’t look up until she’d finished painting the plank and placed it on the drying rack. “You’re just afraid you won’t be able to find homes for all the puppies.”

  “No,” he said, putting as much innocence into his voice as he could muster. “Look at them. Who will be able to resist them?”

  She looked at the pups, and her expression turned to mush. “You fight dirty.”

  “I fight to win.”

  “Hmm.”

  He scooped up two pups and held them out toward Willow. She rolled her eyes, dropped her brush into the water jar, then rose and walked toward the puppy pen. Noah handed the two pups to her, then gathered the other four into his arms. To Marigold, he said, “Take some quiet time if you want, Mama. We’ll keep your babies safe.”

  As if she understood him, Marigold turned three times in a circle, then lay down and closed her eyes.

  They carried the puppies outside. “Where shall we put them down?” Willow asked.

  Noah led her around the far side of his workshop, where he’d used logs to outline a play area for the pups. He’d piped water from the outdoor spigot to a trough and had a basket of chew toys and balls for the little destroyers to demolish. “Why, look at this!” Willow exclaimed with delight. “It’s better than a doggy daycare.”

  “It makes my life easier—that’s all.” Noah set his wiggling wags down inside the enclosure, then turned the spigot to add a little water to the trough.

  For the next ten minutes or so, Noah and Willow played with the puppies, though in reality, he spent most of the time watching Willow. With every puppy tumble and tail wag, the tension within her eased. She was a ray of sunshine on the partly cloudy afternoon, her laughter lighthearted and joyous, her manner playful and carefree.

  He’d thought of her often since the wedding. Thought about that almost kiss.

  He had no business thinking about kissing her. Willow Eldridge and her curious little boy and her precious little girl were complications he didn’t need.

  She glanced at her watch. “I’d better be going. I need to pick up Drew and Emma from art lessons soon. Want help carrying these darlings back to their mama, or is it still playtime?”

  “I should probably get back to my workbench.”

  Willow cooed and cuddled three of the pups, leaving the other three for him, and headed back toward his shop. As she passed the santa’s workshop sign that had lured Drew to trespass back in February, she jerked her head toward it. “Puppies and dollhouses. I’m not so certain that’s not a legit sign.”

  Noah gave her a guarded glance.

  “That is what you call those fire-demonstration things you build, right?” Willow asked.

  “Yeah.”

  One of the puppies managed to wriggle its way onto her shoulder, and she laughed. “Hey, you. Get back here.”

  Noah plucked the puppy off her and carried the little boy by the scruff of his neck back to his mama. Soon, all six pups were nuzzling around Marigold for an after-playtime snack, and Noah was walking Willow to her car.

  “I meant what I said about the puppies. Two of them. Or one. Bring the kids. Let them choose.”

  “Oh, Noah.”

  “It would make Drew and Emma so happy. You know it would.”

  She sighed. “All right. I’ll think about it.”

  “Promise?”

  She gave an exasperated roll of her eyes, but a grin flirted on her lips as she said, “Yes, I promise.”

  It was the grin that did it.

  Willow was happiness, brightness, and warmth, and Noah’s resistance melted away, ice sliding toward the sun. Lifting his hand, he tenderly cupped her cheek.

  His voice was low and a little gruff as he suggested, “How about we seal it with a kiss?”

  Her tongue slipped from her mouth and moistened her lips.

  Noah lowered his head, and at the first touch of her soft, sweet lips, heat—blessed heat—blasted through him.

  Balance, shmalance. Willow had stepped off a cliff and was in free fall. She hadn’t been kissed like this in ages. Maybe ever. How his lips could be both soft and firm at the same time she didn’t know, but she also didn’t care. They drew her into this swirling, spinning, heady world of sensation. Of need.

  He tasted sweet… sugary sweet… and she recalled the bowl of gumdrops she’d seen on the desk in his workshop. Candyman. When his tongue stroked her lips, slipped between them, and met hers, it sent the liquid heat of desire zinging through her veins. Her knees melted, and she sagged against him, knowing instinctively that Noah Tannehill would catch her.

  They were a perfect fit, her curves slotted to his angles as if custom-made to go together. She breathed in his scent—woodsy, spicy, and just a little sweaty. And sexy. Noah was sexy. The heat from his body seared into her and stoked her own warmth. Her passion. There’s that word again.

  It had been so long. So long since a man’s arms had held her. So long since she had felt anything near this level of desire. It was exhilarating. It was frightening.

  She was falling faster and faster, and he held her closer, kissing her deeper. This was no simple good-bye kiss. It was tangled sheets and magic hands and shudders and moans. Willow was seconds away from hitting the ground and having her way with him.

  Luckily, Noah had more sense than she because he lifted his head and took a backward step. Willow felt bereft as his arms slid away from her.

  His voice raspy, Noah said, “Art.”

  Willow blinked. “Um, what?”

  “Class. Um… art class. You, um, don’t want to be late.

  The kids. Don’t you have to pick up the kids?”

  My kids! She’d forgotten all about Drew and Emma. The heat that bloomed in her cheeks had nothing to do with passion and everything to do with embarrassment. “Oh. Oh, yes. I’d better go.”

  Noah reached around her and opened the driver’s side door. He stood there, grimacing, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… um. Willow… uh… I… um… that was… whoa.”

  “Yeah.” She managed a shaky smile. “Me, too.”

  “I don’t mean for you to get the wrong impression,” he added with a note of warning.

  “No. Me, either,” she said quickly. “I’m not looking for any complications. Believe me.”

  “Neither am I. I just got… well… carried away. You pack a punch, Ms. Eldridge. I lost my head there for a minute.”

  “So do you, Mr. Tannehill. I think it’s safe to say we both got carried away. So, I’ll… um… be going.” Her cheeks stinging with embarrassment, Willow slid behind the wheel.

  Noah looked like he wanted to say more. “Willow?”

  She looked up at him, waiting.

  “I’m dragging around a lot more baggage than half a dozen puppies. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings. Don’t look to me for anything beyond friendship. In all honesty, I’m not sure how good I can be at that.”

  He looked so troubled. Willow felt her embarrassment fade as her heart melted. “Hey, you’ve been an excellent friend to me, Noah. You don’t owe me anything. No expectations here.”

  He nodded. “Okay, then. Well, I’m glad you came by.”

  “Me, too.” Grinning, she reached for the door. “So good to have the Mrs. Robinson question cleared up.”

  His hand darted out and caught hold of the door, preventing it from closing. “Think about the puppies.”

 

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