Naked (36 page)

When she had distributed a plate of cookies to the table, she didn’t sit. Instead she hovered, as if waiting for him to volunteer the information himself.

“Her name is Violet and…” What did he say about Violet? “She’s…perfect.”

He had always known that no matter what, his family was going to play an important role in his future. He needed them in his life. Without them, something was missing. He’d felt it this entire time he’d been living away from them. It was a small feeling, but one that was present enough to make him feel less than whole. What he hadn’t expected was for Violet to swoop in and fill up some of that space. Even more unexpected was how she’d claimed almost the entirety of his heart.

He wasn’t sure when it had happened. But the night he’d brought Violet to dinner at his mother’s house, he’d realized that with her on his arm, everything was perfect.

“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Beckford looked over at her husband. “Walter. This boy is smitten.”

“She’s a looker.” Mr. B wiggled his eyebrows.

Noah laughed. “She’s more than just attractive, but we’re from two different worlds. She has money. A fancy job.”

“Money isn’t everything, dear.” Mrs. B leaned forward in her chair and placed her wrinkled hand on his forearm. “Marriage and relationships are about compromise, friendship, and trust.”

He pulled his hand away, holding both hands up in defense. “Nobody said anything about marriage.”

“It also helps if your woman can get your engine running in the sack.”

“Walter!”

“Don’t be such a prickly pear, love.” Mr. Beckford kissed his wife on the cheek. “He’s a virile young man.” Mr. Beckford stretched out his chest. “I’m sure he’s already aware of how things should work in the bedroom.” He wagged his finger at Noah. “Don’t let anyone tell you different. Sex is important in a relationship.”

“On that note…” He did not want to start thinking about the Beckfords and the kind of sex they were or weren’t having. “Thanks for the advice. I guess time will tell how it will end.”

“Who said it has to end?”

Mrs. Beckford was right.

But in order for them to move forward, Violet needed to come clean about her life. Whatever she was hiding behind those scarves couldn’t be that bad. And whatever it was, they could face it together. He’d been waiting his whole life for someone to come along and see him. To see past the hammers and tool belts. Violet had done that. She’d made the effort to scrap protocol and continue seeing him. Although their relationship was still under wraps, he was willing to wait until she got a hold on her new position.

“I should get going.” Violet would be home soon and he needed some time to get his head together. To find a way to convince her to let down the last of her barriers and trust him.

But he sat still in his chair when Mrs. Beckford nudged her husband. “Ask him, dear.”

Mr. B nodded, appeasing his wife. “Noah, what’s your take on the mass land purchase?”

Mass land purchase? He sat back in his seat, letting his arm fall to the side of his body. This was the first he was hearing of it. “Who’s purchasing land?”

The old couple looked at each other. “A young man was here the other day asking if we’d like to sell. He made a very generous offer.”

“What?” He shot up, his entire body rigid. A sense of uneasiness churned in his stomach. “Why would you sell this house?”

“We’re old, Noah. You know we can’t handle this place anymore. We’re going to live with our son and his wife in the city.”

“You’re selling?” To say he was surprised was an understatement.

“You don’t know anything about this?” Mrs. Beckford asked.

Noah shook his head.

“The young man said they were trying to buy all of the houses on the street and the surrounding farmland.”

“They asked us to sign a confidentiality agreement, but we figured all the neighbors had been given the same offer so we’ve been talking.” No confidentiality agreement was going to stop Mrs. Beckford from talking.

Pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place, but he pushed them away. He didn’t want to think of Violet in the middle of all this.

“Can I see it? The offer?”

Mr. Beckford went to get up from his seat, but struggled. Noah placed his hand on his shoulder, urging him back down. “Let me. Where is it?”

Mr. Beckford gestured to the small table by the door to the kitchen that also housed the beyond-ancient rotary telephone.

Nausea churned in his stomach when the first thing he noticed on the paper was a familiar logo. The same logo he saw on his pay stub every week. The same logo he’d signed a contract of employment with. The same logo that was owned by his girlfriend.

He picked up the pile of papers, sifting through the information, but his brain was unable to settle on any one thing.

The Beckfords had been offered above market value for their home. And they had signed on the dotted line. They were selling their house to Walker Industries.

His head shot up. “Who else is selling?”

“Everyone.” Mr. Beckford said it as if the notion of not accepting their deal was preposterous. “You’re the only person we hadn’t talked to. But we’re surprised you don’t know anything about it.”

Not as surprised as he was considering the woman who was probably in charge of the project was sleeping in his bed.

“Have you checked your mail? Maybe they mailed it to you?”

He shook his head, slumping into the kitchen chair.

His relationship with Violet had been built on lies. Maybe not lies, but omissions. But once their true identities had been revealed, he had thought they’d be honest moving forward. He had been horribly wrong.

“Noah, sweetheart. Are you all right?”

There was no way she didn’t know about this. He had every inkling that the reason why he didn’t know about it was because she was holding out—trying to figure out the right way to tell him she wanted to buy the house he and his sisters had purchased for their mother.

He’d been with a liar before. He’d laid his heart on a platter for Violet. Told her about Megan. How he had been heartbroken. How he feared not being good enough.

It obviously meant nothing to her.

“I should head out, I have to…”

He had to smash something. And he was living in a house that had many tools with which he could do just that.

“I’ll see you next week.” With a squeeze of Mrs. Beckford’s hand he stood and walked out the door.

He didn’t remember crossing the street. Or going to his garage. Or picking up the sledgehammer he’d rested by the large shelving unit.

So when he was standing in the kitchen, his hands choking the handle, he had to shake himself back to reality. Doing so didn’t shake away the anger. It didn’t do anything to alleviate his inferiority complex. There was only one way he knew how to get through it. He needed to smash something.

With a sound distinctly like a warrior’s cry, he lifted the sledgehammer and smashed it down on the kitchen island. The brand-new granite he’d installed cracked, but stayed in place. Until he smashed it two more times. Pieces flew up, falling to the floor with thuds, but he continued to smash. To smash away his anger. But most of all, to smash away his feelings for Violet.

She had waltzed into his life, a breath of fresh air he hadn’t even known he’d needed. And then she’d sucked all the air up, leaving him here, gasping and clawing his way out of a dark hole.

“Noah!” He stilled when he heard his name. Violet had burst through his front door. “Noah!”

She stopped short in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock, her mouth practically on the ground. The silence in the house was too much to bear, so he tightened his choke hold on the hammer and smashed the granite once more.

“Noah!” she screamed. “What are you doing?”

She wasn’t afraid of him. She approached, cautiously, but he walked away.

He sucked in a few deep breaths, panting from the exertion of demolishing his own work. He slumped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. The hammer end of the sledge hit the ground with a clang, and he let it fall from his fingers to the floor.

He rubbed his eyes with both hands, pressing so hard he saw white bursts of light inside his eyelids.

“Noah? I came to tell you…”

He looked up, utter confusion staring back at him. For a moment he regretted feeling so angry, but then he remembered she’d lied. She’d gone behind his back. Brought back all the old wounds he’d been trying to bury. And that was something he couldn’t let go.

“When were you going to make me an offer?” His words were muffled, but he knew she’d heard him. A tiny flash of guilt washed over her face.

But she played dumb. “Wha-what?”

“On the house.” His words were sharp, angry. If he’d had the sledgehammer in his hands again he was sure he’d have smashed it on the ground. “This house. The one I’m renovating for my mother. You want to buy it. Just like you bought every other property within a mile radius.”

“How…?”

“The Beckfords. I brought them some groceries, and imagine my surprise when they told me they were selling to a development company. I was even more surprised when I learned it was Walker Industries.” She stumbled back at his words, unable to keep herself upright. “I assume, since you’re in charge, that you sanctioned this.”

She hung her head. “It’s my project. Yes, I sanctioned it.”

He had been angry before, but now that she’d confirmed it, he felt…nothing.

“Why didn’t you make me an offer?”

“I was going to.” She stepped forward but stopped when their eyes met. “I thought you were flipping it and I was so excited to give you a great offer, but I didn’t want to say anything until the proposal was approved. And then by the time it was, you told me about your plans to renovate your childhood home for your mother…and I just couldn’t.”

“So you’re saying that the night I brought you into my mother’s home you knew you were going to tear this house down.”

She hung her head. “I knew.”

He cursed. A loud, single word that had her jumping back in fear.

“I can’t believe this is happening again. I can’t believe I am with another woman who cares more about her job and her appearance than a man who…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t deserve to know he loved her. She didn’t deserve to know that he would have done anything for her, including change his entire career plan because he thought it would make it easier for them to be together.

But it wasn’t until this moment, when he saw the smashed granite on the floor, that it finally solidified that he didn’t want this to be his future. He was good at home renovation. He’d learned from the best. And he liked it. He just didn’t love it. It was nothing like being on the top of a thirty-story building and looking down to the action below. Nothing like reading blueprints and solving problems every day.

Not to mention, he’d be with people all day long, not hovering by himself in someone’s basement waiting for them to come down and offer him a glass of iced tea.

He wasn’t doing any of this for her. He was doing it for himself. And that’s what made the situation even worse. He was going to have to finish out his contract and look for work elsewhere, and he’d have to start at the bottom again.

Tears were falling from her eyes now. She looked utterly devastated. She looked the way his heart felt.

“Noah, please understand. I needed to set myself apart. I needed to show the board of directors I’m not just a pretty face. Put yourself in my shoes.”

“I can never be in your shoes, Violet. I’m not rich and never will be. I didn’t go to private school. I don’t go to fancy charity parties and country clubs. You’re so beautiful and I’m just—”

“You’re just like everyone else.” Suddenly, her sadness had turned to anger with the flick of a switch. “You’re only with me because you think I’m beautiful.”

She was knockout. There was no denying that. Like any other red-blooded male on the planet, his initial interest
had
been based on her looks. But she had to have figured out that it became much more than that after the night they’d spent in her condo.

“The fact that you are smoking hot might be the reason I fell off my roof, but then…”

He still couldn’t get out the words. Because she still didn’t deserve to hear them.

“You don’t trust me, Violet. Not enough to show me what’s hiding underneath that scarf. I’m a regular guy with a blue-collar job. That’s all I’ll ever be. I wasn’t good enough for someone else like you, so—”

“You think that’s how I see you.” Anger, sadness, and frustration had culminated into a shrill sound in her voice. “Do you really believe that?”

What else was he supposed to believe? “Your mother seems to think so.” That was a low blow and he knew it.

“My mother didn’t mean what she said.”

His head shot up. So she knew about her mother’s threats. Just something else she was keeping from him.

“We had a talk just this morning. I don’t care if you work for me. We’ll figure it out.” Her face had softened, the smooth, flawless lines impossibly beautiful. He wanted to believe that softness was at the prospect of them building a future together, but he just didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“It’s more than just working for you. Will you be content to introduce me at your fancy parties? I’m not a doctor or a lawyer. I don’t work on Bay Street. I work with my hands. They are rough and callused and when I shake the hands of your friends, they’re going to know it.”

With a twitch in her hands at her sides, she inched closer. “I don’t care.”

“How can I believe you? How can I trust you when you can’t even be honest with yourself?”

There was only one way she could convince him that she was serious. That she was willing to let go of all the pretense and prove that she wanted him just as he was.

“You wanted to be
just Violet
. You wanted someone to love you for just being you. Well, I did.”

He stepped back, his breath catching in his throat.

He’d said it. Despite wanting to keep his feelings close to the vest. Despite wanting to keep her in the dark because the moment the words were out, she had a power over him that no one else did. She had already broken his heart. But it was still intact enough to be stomped on and pulverized if she felt necessary.