Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Lu

Ride request for Luanne Billings. Please reply Y to confirm a pickup in 30 minutes.

I stared at Noah's text, as hope tried valiantly to take flight, along with all the butterflies in my stomach.

Huber requests didn't typically work in reverse.

With a tentative finger, I replied with a capital Y and did my best not to stare at the phone.

Noah's response was immediate: Ride confirmed .

It was midmorning, and I was supposed to be packing up orders to take by the post office later, but instead I was sneaking peeks out my mini-blinds and wondering what was up. Was Noah ready to talk?

When I caught a flash of blue turning into the Shady Peaks parking lot twenty-six minutes later, I put on my peacoat, slid into my ballet flats, and grabbed my purse off the couch before heading downstairs.

The Bronco was waiting by the curb.

"I'm here to pick up a Luanne Billings."

Noah wore a gray beanie and had the driver's side window rolled down. He was smiling at me. And maybe things were off between us right now, but seeing the warm expression on his face gave me hope for the first time since everything had gone so wrong at my dad's house, five days ago.

"That's me." My voice shook a little, but I managed a smile.

"Hop in, Bluey."

Another hopeful little token dropped in the bucket as I registered the nickname and teasing glint in Noah's eye. But I fought to lasso back my optimism before it got ahead of itself. He'd said he needed time, and I needed to moderate my expectations.

Gathering my things, I moved to the other side of the Bronco. I had a moment of hesitation on where to sit, but Noah leaned over and pushed opened the front door on the passenger side.

Climbing in, I couldn't help but stare. "What are you doing here?"

Noah made no move to drive away. We watched each other for a long moment, his hazel eyes drinking me in.

Carefully, Noah's hand slid into my hair. "I missed you so much. I'm sorry I needed some time to think. I'm sorry I pushed you away."

"It's okay," I said, moving to cup his hand with mine, holding it in place along my jaw. "I understand."

"I have a meeting we should get to. Then we can talk, yeah?"

I nodded numbly, wondering if he was breaking up with me. He wouldn't be looking at me like that if he was writing me off, right? Could he be planning on leaving Cozy Creek after all? A wave of uncertainty washed over me. And what meeting were we going to?

Noah's hand slid free from my tangle of hair, and he put the Bronco into drive.

It wasn't long before we were driving through a small residential neighborhood over on Firefly Lane. The houses were a little older; most were one-level ranch style with narrow yards and well-established trees. The house I'd grown up in with my mom was only a few streets over.

Noah stopped in front of a cute home with a large porch and a brick arch leading to the front door. The deep plum shutters looked freshly painted.

The for sale sign in the front yard drew my attention, and I stared at it for a moment before finally speaking. "I didn't know you were looking for a house."

"Will you come look at it with me?" Noah asked, voice careful and cautious, but there was a spark of something that sounded an awful lot like hope. "Then we'll talk."

The yard had a bright white picket fence around the perimeter, and we let ourselves in through the gate near the garage. We walked up the path to the front porch where a Black woman in her midforties waited in a killer pantsuit and wool coat. Her bright scarf lent a splash of color and set off her dark skin beautifully.

"Sorry we're late, Harriet," Noah apologized. "This is Lu Billings."

The woman smiled and slipped her cell phone into her coat pocket. "Hello, Lu. Nice to meet you." Her handshake was firm, and I was mildly off-balance to be strolling into this unknown situation.

But Noah gave me a warm smile and slid his fingers through mine.

When I glanced back to Harriet, she had the lockbox open and keys in hand. After ushering us inside, the woman who I now assumed was a real estate agent told us to have a look around the cozy three-bedroom and she'd be happy to answer any questions. "I'll be in the kitchen. I have a couple of phone calls to return."

Due to my confusion about what this all meant, I was grateful for the privacy and the permission to wander without a tour guide. The space was clean but empty.

Noah murmured quietly as we walked down the hallway, "It's been on the market for a little over four months. Harriet mentioned that the owners have already moved and were planning to lower the price on this place to avoid paying two mortgages."

I nodded though I didn't understand. My mind was racing. Was Noah staying? Did he want to live in this house?

The primary bedroom was decently sized, with large windows facing the backyard and the mountains beyond. I had to admit that plenty of closet space and a newly remodeled bathroom were all nice touches. We wandered through to check out the two smaller bedrooms, and I couldn't hide my curiosity as I took everything in. Noah caught my questioning gaze and gave my hand a squeeze.

Eventually, we made our way to the kitchen. It was modest, but the appliances were all new, and I liked the open floor plan into the living room. But did it even matter if I liked this place? I wanted to drag Noah outside and make him explain what this all meant.

We reconvened with Harriet and Noah thanked her for her time, promising to be in touch soon. I stayed quiet as we headed back to the Bronco even though inside, my mind was going in a thousand directions, and only some of them good.

Noah started the car and turned the heat up, but we didn't go anywhere.

Eventually, he turned to look at me and I all but blurted, "What's going on, Noah?"

He reached for my hand again and laced his fingers through mine. "I wanted to have options when we finally spoke."

I frowned. "What options?"

"Someplace big enough for both of us. And maybe a dog. A decent yard to stretch out in. An office and storage space for DeLuLu Designs. Maybe a studio for you to work in too. I just wanted you to know that I was willing . . . to make my life bigger, to include you. To stay. To build something together. That I'm choosing you. Choosing us."

I could feel my heartbeat in my chest, wild at what Noah was proposing. A life together. A future. Despite everything.

"You'd really stay in Cozy Creek? After what happened?" I ventured, almost too nervous to ask. It felt wrong to ask this of him, after everything.

He nodded.

"It's not too much? Too small?"

"For all my baggage, you mean?" Noah said simply, but his face was open—willing to have this conversation with me.

And for the first time all week, I could manage a deep breath.

"For all the reminders," I clarified. I'd made my home here because of my history and the memories of my mom, but I could understand choosing another home in spite of them too. Noah had the right to make that choice. And I would support him. I'd even go with him.

"I wouldn't ask you to leave," he replied. "You love it here, and your mom loved it here. Your . . . family is here. Your hometown means everything to you."

"Not everything," I admitted. "It doesn't mean more to me than you, Noah." A dozen emotions passed over his face, but I went on before he could say anything or object. "I can carry my memories of my mother with me anywhere. The place has never been the important part. And as far as my family, they had their chance. A lot of them, actually. It's time for me to do what's right for me."

Noah frowned in concern. "What do you mean?"

"After dinner the other night"—I cleared my throat, nervous to bring up what had happened before he did—"I went back in and let them know that I was done. I basically told Ginny to fuck off and that if Kimberly wanted to put in the effort to know me, then that was fine, but I wasn't killing myself for them anymore. You were right. I've been the only one trying, and it's not fair. I'm not doing it. I told my dad that if he wanted a relationship, it couldn't be on his terms any longer. Things would need to change. I left the ball in his court."

From the pained expression on Noah's face, he blamed himself. He confirmed it when he said, "Lu, I didn't mean to turn your family life into a Jerry Springer episode." His throat bobbed as he swallowed and looked away. "I moved here for your stepsister."

There it was. The knowledge that had blindsided him so ruthlessly and driven him away. The painful truth, the twisted turn of fate.

I reached for his hand, encouraging him to face me again. With my voice even and sure, I told him, "It was a coincidence, Noah."

He blew out a breath. "A fucking wild coincidence. A guy and two stepsisters."

"It's not your fault that our story started out like a porno."

Noah choked out a rough laugh, and I joined him. Sobering quickly, he begged, "How can you be so okay about this?"

"She got you here. She brought you to me." Emotion was creeping into my words and my tone, and I fought to keep tears out of my eyes. "And now that you're here, I don't ever want to lose you. You are my person, Noah. Ginny is . . . inconsequential. She's not my friend, and she's not my family. I tried to make that happen for years. It's never going to. And it's not you driving a wedge between us. There was already too much history and hurt there. So stop blaming yourself."

I took a deep breath and squeezed the hand I still held—the hand I would hold for as long as he let me. "You gave me the strength to say what I've needed to say to my dad and his family for a long time. It was one thing to know that some nameless, faceless girl hurt you. But to know that it was her was the final nail in the coffin. I don't want anyone in my life who could ever be that cruel and conniving. I was already grasping at straws—for someone not worth my time or my energy. I could have probably forgiven the bullying and the terrible attitude. But knowing that she was the one who played games and lied to you . . . that is all I'll ever need to know about her. I can't forgive her for it. The truth is more important than the fictional future relationship I'd made up in my head anyhow. It doesn't hurt to lose that future because it was never real."

Noah's gaze dropped to my fingers intertwined with his. I could read the shame and self-loathing he wasn't able to hide, and I hated Ginny a little more as a result.

"But, Noah, it would kill me to lose you."

His head rose at my words, and I could see him struggling to accept the truth.

"We're real. This"—I lifted my hand and placed it over his heart—"you and me, we're real. You deserve to have someone pick you. I'd rather give you my love than people who don't deserve it. If you want it, that is."

Noah's hand came to rest over mine, the beat of his heart steady and sure beneath my palm. "I do. I do want it. You deserve to have someone pick you too, Lu. You're so good, deep down. You're my best friend, and I want to stay in Cozy Creek and be with you."

"I'm not going to give up on you." With a shaky smile, I admitted, "Maybe I do push?—"

"No," Noah interrupted. "I'm sorry, Lu. So damn sorry. I never should have said that. I didn't mean it, and I have felt like utter shit since it left my mouth. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault, and I'll regret it forever."

"But you're not wrong." I smiled a little sadly. "I did push things with you. You didn't want to be my friend. I strong-armed you into hanging out with me. Using your job as a means to get closer and spend time together. Trying to make you want to stay in town."

He was already shaking his head. "You didn't force me into anything. I wanted to know you. So badly. I just didn't trust myself. Every time your name popped up for a ride request, I could feel my stomach drop. I wanted to see you and spend time with you. I just wasn't brave enough to ask for it on my own. I'm glad you kept showing up. You haven't given up on me once. Even when I probably deserved it. I'm not ever going to be mad about you pretending your Jeep was in the shop. It's how I got to know you. It's how I fell in love with you."

I bit my lip as pressure built behind my eyes. The admission sent relief and joy coursing through my veins.

Noah sighed and smiled to himself, a little disbelieving. "Taking you on your first dates over and over again. Hoping and praying that each one would end in disaster so that I could be the one to take you home."

I grinned and leaned forward over the center console, desperate to hold him and touch him. His warm arms came around me, and I couldn't keep the words in any longer. "I love you, Noah."

His lips curved against the skin of my neck, and I felt the words take shape. "I love you, Luanne."

Smiling, I admitted, "I didn't hate it when you said it like that."

Noah's chest shook with quiet laughter before he let out a huge sigh. He must have felt the same mixture of relief and happiness that had settled into my bones.

Eventually, I pulled back from Noah's warm embrace, but he kept me close with a hand cupping my jaw.

"What do you think of the house?" His voice whispered and gaze went soft. "Could you see us here?"

I could. Even without knowing the context, I'd cataloged the things I'd loved on our walk-through. I'd seen the possibilities.

"I love it," I answered. "What do you think?"

"I think," Noah murmured, fingers combining gently through my hair, "that we're definitely going to need to paint those white walls. Give them some personality."

My smile stretched wide as I brought my lips to his, kissing for a future that was slowly coming into focus. I wanted this adventure with him—one which made my heart race and my breath catch.

Pulling back, I murmured against his lips, "I can't believe you did this. I can't believe you found a house and brought me to see it."

His nose nuzzled against mine sweetly, but his eyes remained closed. "I wanted you to know I was serious. That I meant it when I said I wanted to stay—that I wanted everything with you."

I nodded as emotion threatened once again, and I brought my mouth back to his.

As he deepened the kiss, my thoughts splintered into contentment and joy, a soul-deep rightness blanketing my heart.

Maybe I did hold on to things too tight—with both fists, kicking and screaming, and determined to keep them. But going forward, I would only be doing that with the things that mattered.

And Noah, he was worth fighting for. It turned out, I was too.