This Just In... (Harlequin Superromance) (8 page)

He threw back his head, the top of which was free of any sprouts of hair at all, and roared with laughter. “According to the staff, I do.” He grabbed her hand before she could retract it to safety and motioned for her to bend down. He had a surprisingly strong grip for a man of his age. “You said you’re a reporter? You should write something about this place. Always trying to make a man wash when he’s perfectly clean. Go to bed when he’s wide awake. And they feed me baby food.”

“It was a special diet for your ulcer and was only temporary,” Ellen said from across the room. “Don’t think I didn’t spot that empty potato chip bag in your room last week. You know they’re bad for your stomach.” No doubt she was used to George’s difficult behavior.

His eyes zeroed in on Sabrina again. “What’d you say your name was?”

“Sabrina Ryan.”

George crinkled an eye at her. She wasn’t sure if he was winking or trying to see her more clearly. “You famous?”

“Not particularly.”

“Good. Don’t like famous people.” He shot a sly look at Noah and raised his voice to be heard over the buzz of conversation. “They get too big for their britches, if you know what I mean.”

“No, George,” Noah said. This was clearly a practiced routine between the two of them. He opened a panel in the wall. “No one knows what you mean.”

“Well, when a man...” but the rest of George’s response was drowned out by a big-band tune that filled the room. Sabrina noted the pleased smile on Noah’s face as he shut the panel door. She bit her lip and tried not to laugh. She failed.

“You think he’s funny, girlie?” George shouted over the music. The other residents moved toward the middle of the room, already paired off as they danced to the swinging beats.

Sabrina nodded. “Yes.”

George humphed. “Thought you might have some taste.” He narrowed one eye at her again. Too vain to wear glasses, Sabrina decided. “You said Ryan. You related to Robert?”

“His granddaughter.”

George nodded. “I knew him, you know. He was a good man. He’d have wanted you to be nice to me.”

“And I know your granddaughter. Julie used to babysit me. She’d expect you to behave yourself.”

George snorted. “Don’t have time for niceties.” He peered at her again. “You the mayor’s girlfriend?”

“No.” But following the surprise was a curl of pleasure. Ridiculous. She was only thinking about a fling. No point in getting tangled up with someone when she couldn’t stay. “I’m his reporter.” Which didn’t have quite the same ring.

“What the hell does that mean?” Sabrina didn’t get a chance to explain because George was grabbing her hand again. “I don’t care. Let’s dance. Make an old man happy.”

Sabrina glanced at Noah, felt a zing when she found his eyes on her. Just his reporter, she reminded herself as George tugged her to the middle of the dance floor. And maybe, if she had her way, his fling. That was all.

“I like you,” George said, then shouted the same pronouncement across the room to Noah. “I think I might keep her.” George wheezed out a laugh.

“Do I have a say in this?” Sabrina asked, keeping a sharp eye out as George continued to reverse into the crowd, fearful that he was going to run over a foot or worse. But the residents were clearly used to George and shifted to make way.

“Why? You got a problem with it?”

“I might.”

“I’ll convince you.” His eyes twinkled from beneath his bushy eyebrows. “Put on something with a little swing,” he called to Noah. “I’ve got some moves to show your girl.”

“My name is Sabrina.” George lifted one brow and drove around her in a circle, then patted her on the bum. “Hey, now.” She frowned at him as she whirled to face him. “None of that.”

“What is this, prison?” He snickered and patted her again before zipping out of swatting distance. As if she would hit an old man. Even if he deserved it.

She shook her finger at him. “Behave yourself.”

“I’ll try, but you make it tricky.” The music changed to a swing tune that reminded Sabrina of Michael Bublé. George wheeled closer and grabbed her hands, pulling her down to his level. “So what do you think of our boy?”

“Noah?”

“You see any other boy in here?”

Sabrina glanced over to where Noah had retreated to the corner with a gaggle of ladies surrounding him. He looked up, smiled. She swallowed. He could only be a fling. Nothing more. And now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that anyway. She was here to do a job. She turned back to George. “I don’t see any boys here at all. Now, what can you tell me about our esteemed mayor?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

N
OAH
WATCHED
G
EORGE
C
UTHBERT
wheel around Sabrina on the dance floor. He looked every inch the eighty-year-old coot with a new lease on life thanks to the beautiful woman on his arm.
Lucky bugger.

“Noah, dear.” He turned and smiled at Mrs. Mann who had carefully made her way over to him. “Would you play some Duke Ellington? My Howard and I loved Duke. We used to dance all night.” Her eyes sparkled as she tapped an orthopedic shoe in anticipation.

“I’d be happy to.” He did not offer his arm to take her out for a turn around the dance floor. As he’d told Sabrina earlier, he didn’t dance. Ever. And Mrs. Mann’s feet, protected by that thick orthopedic leather or not, would thank him.

He cued up Duke Ellington, watching as George continued to grip Sabrina’s hands, keeping her at his mercy. She laughed at something he said, her head tipping back and causing her dark hair to flow down. Noah remembered how it had felt brushing against his neck, sliding through his fingers.

He exhaled slowly. Recalling how close he’d come to scooping her off the porch, carrying her inside and having his way with her. Not very mayoral at all.

He should probably be glad for his mother’s timing and her clogged sink. But he wasn’t. Even knowing that he wasn’t the kind of man who slept with a woman before he knew her—before he’d so much as taken her out on a date—didn’t help. Nor did the cold showers he’d been subjecting himself to every morning.

Because he still wanted Sabrina. And even though he knew the town expected more of him—to meet a nice girl, one who loved the town as much as he did, who would want to settle down and be the perfect mayor’s wife, hosting teas and other community-type events—Noah couldn’t deny the attraction to this woman who’d left Wheaton as soon as she could and had made it clear that settling down here wasn’t an option.

“Why don’t you go rescue her?” His mother slipped through the ranks of adoring ladies to stand beside him.

“I don’t dance,” he reminded her, happy for the interruption and to think about something other than his caveman urge to throw Sabrina over his shoulder and take her somewhere private.

“Why don’t you start?”

Noah dragged his gaze away from Sabrina who was now admonishing George for patting her on the ass and focused on his mother. Although Ellen hadn’t given birth to him, she was the only parent he’d known. In some ways, he thought he loved her more because of it. They hadn’t been thrown together by genetics. They’d chosen each other.

When his father died in a car accident not long after he and Ellen were married, no one in town had thought she’d keep Noah. She had a one-year-old and a husband to bury. Taking on the full-time care of a five-year-old was something no one thought she’d want to cope with.

Noah could still remember people talking in hushed whispers that they didn’t think he heard or understood. But he had.
Can’t be expected to keep him. Placed in a nice foster home somewhere. Not even hers.
He still remembered sitting on the bed in his new “older brother” room the day after his father’s funeral. The room Ellen had helped him paint a sky blue, the pillowcases that had pictures of fire engines on them.

She’d knocked and asked if they could talk. Noah could only nod, a lump the size of his fist clogging his throat. She was going to tell Noah that he had to go away. That he wasn’t going to be part of the family. He’d resolved not to cry. But when she’d put her arm around him and rocked him a little, he’d started to blubber into her shoulder.

Everything had come pouring out of him then. How he knew she was going to send him away, but he didn’t want to go. He loved her and his baby brother and he’d be the best boy ever if she’d only let him stay. She’d looked at him with those kind eyes and told him that of course he wasn’t going anywhere. They were a family and families stayed together.

By the end of the year, she’d officially adopted Noah and the town had adopted all of them. They were simply The Barnes Family. No explanations needed.

But he’d never stopped trying to be the best boy ever.

“I don’t dance,” he repeated.

Ellen glanced back to the dance floor. Noah’s eyes went there, too. Sabrina was wagging her finger at George again, but they were both smiling. “Maybe it’s time you tried something new.”

He wasn’t averse to the concept. But dancing was not that something. Something about the thought of getting out on the dance floor made him highly uncomfortable, as though he’d be demanding attention for the wrong reasons. Running for mayor and standing in front of a crowd were different. Then, he was the mayor, acting out a position, working on behalf of the town’s residents, taking care of their needs. But dancing, well, no. It just wasn’t him.

“I’m happy with the way things are.” He answered his mother’s pointed look.

She tilted her head. Her earrings caught the light. “Are you?”

“Of course.” But he worried he’d answered too quickly. He looked away from his mother’s assessing stare and found Sabrina again. Her tight jeans showed off her curves, curves he remembered touching and stroking. His fingers curled into his palms.

She’d hurt his brother and Marissa. She was only here for the interview. She wasn’t staying.

He didn’t hear his mother leave, just noticed that she’d stepped away when he cued up the next song. There was no reason he shouldn’t be happy with his life. He had his health and his family. A great job that not only provided for him personally but others in the community, as well.

Noah rubbed the back of his neck. He’d made certain choices in his life. Returning to Wheaton after university. Running for mayor. Helping Kyle. But those had been the right things to do and he was content with his decisions.

His eyes tracked Sabrina. Women like her weren’t part of his life. City dwellers with big dreams and ambitious careers. People who couldn’t wait to leave the town he loved so dearly. Her laughter sparkled through the room causing those around her to join in. She’d been gone for close to a decade and yet it seemed as though she’d slid right back in, as though the town had just been waiting for her to appear.

Sabrina caught his eye, said something to George and walked over. Noah felt his lips twitch and warmth spread through his body. She might not be staying, but she was here now.

“Nice try, pal, but I’m onto you.”

Noah forced the image of her straddling him on the porch away and tried to remember that they were in a public place with lots of eyes and a surprising number of cell phones. He had a mayoral rep to protect. “What’s that?”

She stopped in front of him. “Don’t pretend you didn’t plan to foist George on me. He copped a feel. Three times.”

“I saw.” Noah thought George was a lucky man. “I did try to warn you about him.”

“And yet you didn’t come over to cut in and protect me. Really, I feel it’s your civic duty as mayor to ensure residents are able to shake their booty without having it patted.”

He couldn’t help looking at the body part in question. And a fine booty it was. “I’ll be sure to bring it up at the next council meeting.”

“Please do. But for now, you can make it up to me by dancing with me.”

Noah balked. Like a stubborn mule, he just dug in his heels. “I don’t dance.”

She put a hand on his arm. “You do now.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I really don’t.”

“Come on, Mr. Mayor.” Sabrina’s fingers slipped into his. “For me. It’ll be fun.”

Noah knew fun. And dancing? Was not fun. “I’ll crush your toes.”

“I’ll live.” She managed to drag him a step forward.

The music changed to a cheerful dance tune that reminded him of one of those old black-and-white movies the residents liked to watch. The dancers spun before him, all certain of time and place, of rhythm and flow, things that eluded Noah.

“Come on.” She pulled him forward another step.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about this, this sudden shifting of his carefully plotted-out life. Kissing on the porch, in the relative privacy of his own home, was one thing. But getting up in front of everyone and being vulnerable in a whole new way was not part of the deal. “I’d prefer to watch.”

“Yes, you’ve made that obvious. I prefer that you dance. Consider it part of your ‘getting involved in the community’ strategy.”

“I’m involved.” Sometimes he felt like getting involved was the only thing he did. But he let Sabrina tug him forward another few steps, felt his resolve weakening. She smelled so good, and like a siren she lured him toward his death on the rocks. Or death on the dance floor, which was practically the same thing.

“There you go.” She kept her hands wrapped around his once she finally got him out onto the floor. Probably thought he was a high flight risk. She was right.

Noah felt as if a spotlight was trained on him, as if everyone was watching. This wasn’t the same as giving a stump speech or addressing the crowd at a grand opening. He couldn’t hide behind the mantle of mayor now. His mouth felt dry and he wanted to hurry back to the security of sidelines, but Sabrina’s firm grip kept him in place. He could shake her loose easily, but that would cause a scene. He didn’t do scenes. He swallowed, but it didn’t help his dry mouth.

“You’re going to be fine.” Sabrina ran a soothing hand up his arm and around the back of his neck. “Now, step side to side. You know how it’s done. You were in grade seven once.”

He shuffled awkwardly. He could feel the room staring at him. He didn’t dance. Heat prickled up his spine.

“You.” George zipped up. Noah had never been so grateful to see the old man. “First you got to have two working legs and then you got to steal my woman?”

Some of the tension in his shoulders eased. George, he could handle. Dancing, not so much. “Your woman?”

George nodded. “I asked her to dance first and now I’m cutting in.”

Noah gripped Sabrina’s waist more tightly, then realized what he was doing. Acting like she was with him, as if they were a couple. Overprotective and jealous. Not the kinds of attributes he wanted to be known for. He started to step back, to allow George to replace him. And then he saw George’s hand, his palm extended, heading straight toward Sabrina’s ass. Again.

And something primal woke inside him.

Not on his watch. No one would be patting any part of Sabrina’s anatomy but him. He deftly spun her to the side and felt George Cuthbert’s hand connect with a different ass.

His own.

“Hey!” George jerked back and shook his hand as though to rid it of something. “Not funny, boy.”

Sabrina started to laugh.

“That stays off the record,” Noah told her. There was nothing right about George Cuthbert’s hand on his ass in any universe. Ever. “But you remember that I took one for you when you’re writing your article.”

Her eyes twinkled with humor. Sure, it wasn’t her ass in the line of fire. “You’re quite the white knight, Mr. Mayor.”

“Quite something,” George said and wheeled off in search of easier prey.

Sabrina smiled at him and he felt his heart stutter. “Quite something, indeed.”

He tried to remember all the other people in the room watching. But the music shifted to something slow. She moved closer and looped her arms behind his neck. His skin tingled where she touched him. He reminded himself that she was here to do a story. That he was perfectly content with his life. That this wasn’t a great idea.

But he suddenly wasn’t sure about anything.

* * *

N
OAH
TRIED
TO
KEEP
his distance from Sabrina the following week. He needed to know how he felt about her without the question of the article hanging over his head. Was she being honest when she said she wasn’t planning to write anything that might harm his campaign? Or was it all a ploy?

But he couldn’t ignore her. The sound of her music floating through her open windows and her pleasant voice when she sang along. The scent of her perfume that occasionally lingered near the front door or the porch. The way he was drawn to her.

Her article had come out this morning. A charming and thorough treatise that made him seem a hell of a lot nicer than he felt. There was no mention of his donation to Cedar Oaks. Noah couldn’t articulate why it was so important that she omit the information. It just felt wrong to include it, as though he’d done it to buy the town’s love instead of for his real reason, which was that it was the right thing to do. Not just for the town, but for himself. He was glad she hadn’t pushed him to explain.

He’d hoped to see her today to thank her, but she hadn’t answered his knock this morning and he’d been at his out-of-town dealership all day, before driving straight to Kyle and Marissa’s for dinner.

Kyle opened the door before Noah even unfolded himself from the car. “Nice article, Mayor Barnes.”

Noah shot his brother a look but didn’t correct him. “Thank you.” Like he’d had anything to do with it. But a flicker of pride settled over him. It was a nice article.

He and Kyle managed about three seconds of quiet in the living room before Daisy screeched in, hair flying, eyes wild. “Uncle Noah.” She jumped into his lowered arms and promptly squealed in his ear. Ah, yes. It was good to be around family.

In twenty seconds, Noah was inundated by kids all scrambling for attention and airplane rides. He laughed as he played with them. This was what he wanted, what he lived for. Family and love. Children and home. Things he already had in Wheaton.

He tossed Scotty in the air and caught him, wrestled with Paul and after putting Daisy in a gentle headlock was forced to admire her latest drawings, which featured a girl in a tiara with a sword. The kid was no Monet, but he had one of the masterpieces tucked in his pocket for placement on his fridge anyway.

She informed him that the picture needed to be displayed “right in the middle so everyone could see it” and was so enthusiastic in her description that when the doorbell rang he wasn’t sure if he was hearing things or it was simply a reverberation from her shouting.