This Just In... (Harlequin Superromance) (21 page)

The young actress hadn’t, either. And Sabrina wondered who she herself had become. Was she really the kind of person who repaid someone’s openness and honestly with a vicious, baseless article?

She blew out a breath, but the roiling inside her didn’t abate. Did she want to be the kind of reporter who attacked through words? Who made someone else feel bad to make others feel better?

For the first time, she saw her article on Jackson through his father’s eyes. She’d gone after his boy with guns blazing and his father had fought back. And he’d been right. No, his son wasn’t a civic-minded, charitable member of society, but he wasn’t evil, either. Just shallow and self-centered.

What she’d done to Marissa had been worse. Sabrina closed her eyes. So much worse. And yet Marissa had forgiven her. Had acknowledged her hurt and moved past it. And what had Sabrina done with all the goodwill that had been shown to her? Used it to get out of Wheaton, away from the kind hearts that had surrounded her and back to the cold, unforgiving city lights.

She reopened the article on the actress. Then she highlighted the entire piece and clicked delete. Done.

The corners of her mouth turned up even before the page blinked into a blankness. She wasn’t that kind of reporter anymore. Maybe she never had been. She’d just been fooling herself to think she could keep up the charade forever.

The pain that had attached itself to her over the past weeks loosened. She wasn’t high-rise condos and metal furniture. She was a shared duplex with fuzzy couches and warm rugs and a lush garden out back. She wasn’t experimental theater and night clubs. She was concerts in the park at the annual Northern Lights festival. She was dinner with friends, not brunch after a night of heavy drinking. She wasn’t Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahniks. Okay, wait, she could still be those things. But she was also cotton dresses and bandannas for her hair, jeans and plaid shirts. She was red cowboy boots.

Relief at finally admitting the truth trickled through her. Her arms no longer hurt and her stomach finally settled. Even that persistent ache behind her heart that she’d come to believe would be a constant companion eased, replaced by a radiating warmth. This was who she was, and she was okay with it. She didn’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not anymore. And she refused to spend another minute being someone she wasn’t. The deleted article was only the start.

Sabrina Ryan was going home.

CHAPTER TWENTY

T
HE
SOFT
TAP
AT
THE
dealership office door irritated Noah. A lot of things irritated Noah these days. Hadn’t he told the staff that he wasn’t to be disturbed this morning unless it was an emergency? Since there hadn’t been a loud boom indicating an explosion, there was no smoke sneaking under his door hinting at an inferno already ablaze, nor was there the splash and rush of water pouring from a pipe, he saw no explanation for why his orders had been ignored. Which meant they were bugging him over nothing. As usual.

“Come in.” He was careful to keep the snappish tone out of his voice. No one at the office had done anything wrong and it wasn’t fair to take his irritation out on them. Still, he didn’t understand why they couldn’t grasp that he didn’t want to be bothered.

The election was in one month and his campaign was in full gear. He and his team were going around this evening, putting up signs and posters around town. He noticed Pete had done so last night, which was illegal. Candidates had to wait until the election was thirty days away before posting election materials, but Noah wasn’t going to report the man. He’d beat him despite it.

“Got a minute?” Kyle walked in without waiting for Noah to answer and shut the door behind him.

“Just one.” Noah found that if he kept busy or gave the illusion of looking that way, people left him alone. It made the days easier to get through.

“Make it two.” Kyle sank into the chair across from him.

Noah met his brother’s gaze and tamped down his annoyance. Kyle wasn’t one to wander in for a chat or to ask a simple question. In fact, his brother had done a good job of running interference for him at the office by taking on a greater amount of the responsibilities and training the staff to come to him for certain questions. But Noah crossed his arms over his chest as encouragement for Kyle to state his business and then leave. “What is it?”

Kyle paused to crack his knuckles. An old habit he’d had since he was a kid and a sign that Noah wouldn’t like what he was about to say.

Tension coiled around Noah’s chest. He didn’t move. Just stayed silent. Watching and waiting. Knowing the hammer was about to drop.

“I just got off the phone with Marissa.”

Oh, hell. Was she pregnant? Again? Noah bit back the nudge of jealousy that rose. His baby brother already had four kids and a loving wife while he had none.

Kyle kept talking. “She talked to Sabrina this morning.”

The pressure flowed from Noah’s chest, up his neck and intensified along the line of his jaw. He could feel the muscle twitching, practically threatening to pop through the skin and did his best not to let the strain seep into his voice. “I’ve told you I don’t want to hear this.”

Kyle leaned forward, hands on his knees. His blue eyes pinned Noah. “She’s coming back.”

For a second, Noah thought Kyle was playing a joke on him. A sick, cruel joke that would have any logical person filing for emancipation from his family. But the worried look in Kyle’s eyes told Noah this was no joke. He was telling the truth. Sabrina was coming back.

He forced a shrug though it pained the muscles in his neck, which regularly felt like concrete when he got up in the morning. He rubbed at them now. “And?”

“And I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.”

Noah started to shrug again, then realized that it probably looked like he was trying to project an image of disinterest. He was, but if he saw through it, so would others. Even his sweet, good-natured, look-for-the-best-in-others brother. So he converted the movement midshrug into an awkward shoulder roll that probably wouldn’t fool anyone, either.

Kyle was polite enough not to mention it. But he watched. His kind eyes taking in everything. Everything Noah wanted to keep hidden.

“So now you’ve told me.” Noah forced the words through the tightness in his throat. They scratched and clawed as they fought their way free. “Anything else?”

So casual. As if this wasn’t a blow. As if he didn’t curse himself every day for letting Sabrina past those barriers he’d erected over the years. As if he hadn’t let his life twine with hers, twisting and merging together like the ivy that grew up the sides of the porch at the house. As if he hadn’t believed they were building something special together.

He should have known. She’d told him she wasn’t staying. Not even implicitly with suggestions and hints. She’d been clear that she was in contact with her old editor, that she wanted her old job back. If he’d believed that her actions spoke louder than words, that with every turn of her head, every coy glance over her shoulder and stretch of her leg she was letting him know that she wouldn’t leave him, he had only himself to blame.

Sadly, this bit of insight didn’t make the knowledge easier to bear.

The fist of pain that had been Noah’s constant companion since she’d walked out of his life punched him in the chest, then followed up with a crosscheck to his lungs. He might look okay on the outside—sure, he was a little pale, but he could blame that on his long days of campaign planning—but inside he was a mass of bruises. He breathed through the attack.

Sabrina was coming back.

“Maybe you should take the rest of the day off,” Kyle said. “We’ll go to the lake, do some fishing.”

Trout Lake would close for fishing at the end of the month, but Noah didn’t feel like taking advantage of that. “Can’t. Too much to do.”

“Noah.”

He didn’t look at his brother. Not really. He gave the impression of paying attention, looking in Kyle’s direction and pasting on a polite expression. He could even nod and murmur if necessary. But he couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear to see the compassion shining out of his brother’s eyes.

He was the big brother. The one who was supposed to have everything figured out. Who didn’t call on others for help just in case he became a drain on them. Just in case he did something that caused them to push him away.

That might be the thing that hurt most about Sabrina. That he’d let himself believe he didn’t have to pretend around her. That he could just let go. Except when he had, she’d pushed him away, too.

The edges of his vision darkened. He blinked and sucked in some oxygen until the darkness receded. Never again. It was a hard lesson to learn, but best he learned now while he still had the opportunity to change. The next woman he dated would see only the perfect, mayoral side. The public side he showed to the world. And maybe she would stay.

“Marissa thinks you need to talk.” Kyle held up a hand when Noah opened his mouth. “I told her to leave you alone, but you know how she is.”

Noah did know. Kyle had managed to allow Noah some privacy in his professional office life, but his personal family life was a different story. Marissa had been a regular visitor to his apartment since Sabrina’s departure. Often with a kid or two in tow. Sometimes she brought dinners for him to stick in his freezer and heat up when he was hungry. Sometimes she came to help with the campaign. Occasionally she told him the kids needed some bonding time with their uncle and escaped, leaving them behind. But Noah knew those were all ruses. She was checking up on him to see if he was improving. And pushing—always with the pushing—urging him to talk about his feelings. “If she shows up, I’ll handle it.”

“You sure?”

He nodded once to let Kyle know he was okay, and waited until the door clicked shut behind his brother before he exhaled softly. Slowly, just in case anyone was listening.

Sabrina was back. For a visit? Permanently? He realized those were questions he should have asked his brother. He could call him back and ask now, but the thought left him icy cold. Maybe it was better not to know. He should continue on with life as though her appearance made no difference to him. Because it shouldn’t.

She’d left. Her position was clear. She didn’t want to be with him. He wasn’t good enough for her to stay.

Noah hoped like hell she wasn’t planning to stay, wasn’t moving back into her old apartment. It would be much easier to ignore her presence if he wasn’t forced to live next door to her, the entryway filled with her perfume, her music acting as a soundtrack to his evenings.

He had too much on his plate to let Sabrina’s return and the reasons behind it twist him up again. No, he was done with that phase of his life. A youthful indiscretion that would soon be a distant memory.

Noah pushed up his shirtsleeves and got back to business.

* * *

B
Y
THE
TIME
N
OAH
LEFT
for home, he was beat. He’d stayed late on purpose, keeping his campaign team longer than necessary because he didn’t want to go home. His reasons would have been obvious to anyone who knew, but he’d heard no comments about Sabrina’s return, which had relaxed him a little.

But as he neared the house, his anxiety reappeared. What if she was there already? What if she was waiting for him? He didn’t know what he would say. He didn’t want to talk to her, but how could he avoid her if she was living right beside him?

He turned off his headlights before he turned up the driveway, hoping to slip in under the cover of night. The moon was high and bright and gave enough illumination for him to park without running into anything.

When he saw her SUV sitting in its spot by the house, he gritted his teeth. So she was here. Or at least her car was.

Noah crept up the porch steps, careful to hold the door tight to absorb the sound of his key turning in the lock. He could hear the drone of her TV before he had the door fully open. Lamplight spilled into the hallway from her apartment where she’d left the door propped open. Her red boots acted as the doorstop, a cheerful bastion greeting his arrival.

Noah ignored the low pull in his belly at the sight of those boots. He should see them as a harbinger of doom, not great sex. He shut the front door behind him and told himself not to peek into her apartment. She might see it as a welcoming gesture, and that wasn’t something he was willing to give.

But he couldn’t help a hurried glance. He told himself it was simply preparation. If she came barreling out, he wouldn’t be caught off guard. But that wasn’t the only reason.

He wanted to see her. Wanted to see that sweep of dark hair, those big green eyes and those pretty red lips. Did she look as tired as he did? Had she been sleeping well? Did she regret her decision to go?

What he saw was her crashed out on her couch, one hand tucked under her cheek, hair curled over her neck while the TV played in the background. She looked so angelic, a tiny smile on her lips as she dreamed. No one would ever guess she was the kind of person who could rip a man’s heart out, stomp all over it and then come back, expecting he’d simply ask for more.

Noah quelled the urge to walk in and cover her with the blanket off the back of the couch. If she got cold, she’d wake up and do it herself. He didn’t owe her anything. Not even a warm blanket. And one night of shivering wouldn’t kill her.

But once safely inside his own bed, he wasn’t able to sleep. He couldn’t help thinking of her sleeping over there, door wide open, with nothing and no one to protect her.

Cursing, he got up and marched over. He didn’t take as much care with noise this time. If she wanted to talk, he had a few things to say. Namely that a man should be able to sleep in his own bed without worrying about his neighbor catching a cold or worse.

Noah whipped the blanket over her. Sabrina didn’t rouse, didn’t even move as the blanket settled. He turned off the TV and locked the door behind him. Yes, he’d kept her key. He hadn’t meant to hang on to it. He just hadn’t been thinking about those kinds of details when she’d told him she was leaving. Once he realized he still had it, she’d already been gone for a week. He’d planned to give it to her parents when they came around to close up, but he hadn’t seen them. He should have dropped it in the mail or contacted them, but he hadn’t. He didn’t stop to think why that might be. The fact was, he still had it and it had come in handy.

Noah climbed back into his own bed and closed his eyes, but sleep remained elusive. So when dawn rolled around, followed by a pounding on his door, he felt as cranky as a grizzly bear.

He snarled as he flipped the lock. He knew who was behind it, making all that racket with her fists. Did she think he was deaf? He yanked the door open, forgetting that he was supposed to act as if he didn’t care. “What?”

God, Sabrina looked good. Noah didn’t want to notice. Didn’t want to drink her in from her head to her toes. But he did anyway, gorging himself on her fresh-faced, bright-eyed appeal. Even her hair, messy with sleep, looked glorious to him, just begging a man to wrap his hands in it. He’d barely been able to stop himself from touching it last night, and he curled his fingers against his palms now.

He didn’t want to think about how he looked. Exhausted and beat up, like he’d spent the night tossing and turning in between bouts of punching his pillow into a different shape as though that might be the culprit for his insomnia.

Sabrina smiled and his heart thumped. “Hi.”

Hi?
Just a couple of neighbors saying good morning? “Hi.” He returned the greeting, curt and abrupt. The tone of a man who didn’t have time for simple pleasantries because he had bigger and better things on his schedule. “Need something?”

Her smile dimmed. Good. Noah reminded himself he had no reason to feel guilty. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and if Sabrina regretted her choices, she could learn to live with them, the same way he was doing. She clasped her hands in front of her. “I...I hoped we could talk.”

She hoped they could talk. How nice for her. How nice to think that a brief little chat was part of her plan today. Too bad—it wasn’t part of his. “I don’t have time today.”

Her brow wrinkled slightly. “Tonight then?”

“Busy.” And if he wasn’t, he’d find something to do.

“Okay, tomorrow. I’ll take you out for coffee. I know you have time for that.”