Chapter 12

TWELVE

"Is she here with you?" The receptionist practically squealed the question at Noah when he stepped into the front office of the high school.

"Well, hello to you, too, Mrs. Weaver. And no, my sister isn't here with me. She stayed at home with the girls." He knew damn well Elisa Weaver wasn't asking about Alex. "Is my dad in his office?"

She rolled her eyes before gesturing with her chin in the direction of the assistant principal's office. Scott Hudson served triple duty at the small high school as its football coach, athletic director, and assistant principal. His brown eyes lit up when he spied his son in the doorway. He waved Noah into his office.

"I'm glad he was able to get his grades up, too, Mrs. Thompkins," his dad said into his cellphone. "We need him on the field tonight." He made the "hurry up" gesture with his hand as Mrs. Thompkins continued to gush at the good news. "Yes, of course. Great. Yes. We'll see you tonight then. Goodbye."

Noah's dad blew out a sigh of relief after ending the call.

"You made her day," Noah said.

"And you just made my day." His father gave Noah a side hug, complete with two hard pats on the back. "Hell of a game last night. On both sides of the ball. I'm proud of you, son. Always have been."

"Thanks. It was a team effort."

His dad made a sound at the back of his throat. "Yes, it was. But you are the leader of one half of that team when it's on the field. It's okay to take a little credit for yourself occasionally."

"From the looks of it, I don't have a choice today."

"Okay, yeah." His dad put his hands up. "That's on me. The boosters wanted to do it last year as a way to draw some attention—and outside funding—to the school's athletic programs. I knew you were busy trying to find your place in the league and you'd hate any sort of additional recognition, so I stalled them. Once you were named player of the week at the start of this season, though, there was no holding them back."

"You might have mentioned it to me."

"Have you met your grandmother? She was the one leading the charge with the boosters. She insisted you wouldn't show up if we told you." He eyed Noah. "Given your reaction, I agree with her."

Noah dropped into one of the two chairs in front of his father's desk. "The media have been a bitch. You know that. I'd prefer to stay away from the glare of the spotlight when I can."

His father stared down at him for a long moment before walking over to close his office door. He sat down in the chair opposite Noah.

"It was a small-town story until you brought your—" He made air quotes. "—Friend, the princess, with you."

Noah let out a groan as he tilted his head back. "Not you, too, Dad. You do know she's not a princess, right?"

"I realize that. But what I'm trying to determine is how good of a friend is she?"

Let me know when you figure it out, Noah wanted to say.

He met his father's questioning gaze. The man's brown eyes, a mirror image of his own, always compelled Noah to tell the truth. Their build was so similar that both of his nieces had mistaken Noah for their Gramps on more than one occasion. The only striking difference was their hair. His dad was prematurely gray. The stress of Alex's cancer battle had seen to that.

"I don't know," Noah admitted before he could rein in the words. "I mean, yeah, we're friends."

They were, weren't they?

"That's not the impression I get when I see photos of you two."

Do you always kiss your friends like you're the last two people on Earth?

Noah sat forward in the chair, draping his clasped hands between his knees. "Honestly, dad, I don't know what we are." He hung his head.

"What do you want to be?"

Everything. "It doesn't matter. She leads a very different life than I do."

"Does she? Maybe she grew up differently?—"

Noah hiked up his eyebrows.

"Okay, very differently. But at the end of the day, when it's just the two of you, are you actually that different?"

"I do know that she's not the person the media makes her out to be. Not anymore, anyway. And she was a kid back then. Trying to find herself."

"There you go." His father tapped him on the knee.

"But is that enough, Dad?"

His father shrugged. "Hard to say. Life, love, marriage, they don't come with a playbook. Where would the fun be in that?"

"Failure isn't fun."

"No, but you've never shied away from going for something when the results weren't guaranteed."

"Not the same. Football is a game. Love isn't."

"Ah ha." His father grinned behind his steepled fingers. "You do love her, then."

Christ, did he ever. He let out a long-suffering groan as he dragged his fingers through his hair.

"Is that such a bad thing?" his dad asked. "And don't give me any more of that crap about you being from different worlds. You both bring a certain amount of notoriety to the relationship. And it doesn't matter how you grew up. How you go forward is what's important."

"Relationships are hard enough without your every move being dissected on social media."

His father chuckled as he stood. "There's no requirement that she be at the game tonight."

"I told her that. She wants to come anyway."

"Then that should tell you all you need to know, son." His father dropped his hand to Noah's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Come on. The team will suit up for practice soon. I'm sure they'd love a couple of pointers."

He stood to follow his dad. "Do you think Meemaw might have faked her illness last night to guilt me into bringing Charlotte?"

His father's eyes widened before he bellowed out a laugh. "You know something? I wouldn't put it past her."

A muffled groan coming from the other side of the house had Charlotte dashing from the guest room.

"Meemaw? Are you okay?"

Please don't let anything happen to Noah's grandmother . It will wreck him.

"In here."

Charlotte breathed a little easier as she hurried through the elegant bedroom, ignoring the heirloom antiques it was decorated with. She slid to a halt in the adjoining bathroom. Meemaw was seated in front of an ornate makeup mirror, wiping her eyes.

"What happened?" Charlotte sank down on her heels beside the upholstered bench Meemaw was perched on.

"Life happened." The older woman waved a brow pencil. "The years stole my eyebrows. Old age makes my hands shake so that now I can't even draw new ones on."

"Is that all?"

"Says the perky twenty-something. Just you wait, young lady." Meemaw pinned her with her most haughty look.

She couldn't help it. Charlotte laughed as she took the eyebrow pencil from the older woman's hand.

"Here. Let me help."

"Oh, don't mind me. You scoot. I heard you on the phone with your office. You're too busy running a beauty empire to waste time on an old gal like me."

"Nonsense. I would be a fool to resist the chance to glam up a sophisticated, seasoned woman." Charlotte knee-walked in front of Meemaw. "It's market research."

"Oooo, I like that. I'm not old. I'm seasoned." She lifted her chin to study her face in the mirror while Charlotte sorted through the makeup on the counter.

"It's been a while since I've done someone else's makeup. This will be fun." She slipped a headband on Meemaw to keep her hair back.

"I would think running a company would be much more exciting. Not to mention fulfilling."

"Mmm." Charlotte tested out the various colors of pencils on her hand before holding it up to Meemaw's face. "It was."

"Was? You don't enjoy running Truly You? How come?"

Charlotte traced the brow pencil along the bottom arch of Meemaw's sparse eyebrows. "I love Truly like it was my child. But like most kids, it's growing up. And outgrowing me."

This was the first time she could speak the words without that stabbing pain of not being good enough. Noah was right. She'd been skilled enough to get the company off the ground. To get it where it was today before handing it off to investors. That was how most companies worked. Instead of feeling like a failure, she needed to revel in her success.

"Hmm," the older woman said. "Perhaps it's time to get yourself some actual children."

A lump formed in Charlotte's throat. A child of her own had been a dream since she was barely out of her teens.

"You're not subtle at all."

"At my age, I don't have that kind of luxury."

Charlotte admired her handiwork with the brow pencil before reaching for some eye shadow. "I'm having a hard time finding a man who wants to take me on."

She didn't have to elaborate further. Meemaw's humph sounded as frustrated as Charlotte felt.

"He's a lot like his grandfather."

"How so?"

Meemaw's smile was a wistful one. "Ross didn't want me to be tied down to a Navy pilot who would be off on a ship for six months at a time. He thought I deserved a man who'd be around to treat me like a queen every day." She chuckled. "My daddy owned the furniture company that employed most of the people in these parts. Everyone thought we were next to royalty."

She arched an eyebrow at Charlotte before she continued.

"Ross didn't think he measured up financially, either. And neither did he want to be stuck in western North Carolina running someone else's dream once my daddy died. He was going to be an airline pilot. He wouldn't be rich. But he would be happy."

Was that what was holding Noah back? Some neanderthal hang-up on the difference in their socioeconomic status? Charlotte almost laughed. Guess he possessed an ego after all.

What he didn't realize was her money hadn't come from working hard and employing a talent like his did. Noah's wealth was worth so much more. And if she took away her trust fund and compared the measly salary that she paid herself from Truly next to the one he earned playing football, then he was the clear breadwinner.

Men are so stupid.

"Obviously he came around," Charlotte said.

"You betcha he did." She spread out her arms. "I'm irresistible."

Both women laughed before Meemaw sobered up.

"Men need a little help connecting the dots sometimes. Once I spelled it out for him, letting him know in no uncertain terms that the only thing I needed in life was him, he came around."

Charlotte stroked some blush on Meemaw's cheeks as she contemplated the older woman's words.

Could it be that easy?

Noah's grandmother placed two fingers beneath Charlotte's chin and lifted it until their eyes met. "Mark my words, that boy is in love with you. It's obvious to anyone who sees the way he looks at you. Sure, I might have used underhanded tactics to get Noah to bring you home with him. But, know this, Charlotte Davis, if he didn't want you here, he would have ignored me."

She fingered the three silver affirmation bracelets on Charlotte's wrist.

"Faith. Hope. Love." She recited the single word inscribed on each one. "‘The greatest of these is love.' Millions of women buy these from your company and wear them hoping to manifest these thoughts into reality. You should take a page from your own book and do the same."

"Dude I must love your sister if I'm wearing your jersey and not mine," Noah's brother-in-law, Chris, remarked when he wandered up beside Noah at the pregame tailgate in the high school parking lot a few hours later. Alex's high school sweetheart had played defensive back for Noah's dad while Noah was still in elementary school. Suffice it to say, Chris was Noah's first real football idol. He even threatened to run away from home when Alex and Chris broke up briefly.

Chris gave him a little shoulder check. "This is kind of crazy, huh? Although it's probably second nature to you, seeing strangers decked out in your digits."

Noah had to agree that it was still a little bizarre. Especially since so many people were wearing jerseys sporting his high school number, eleven years after he last took the field as the school's quarterback. Maisy and Ainsley danced around in tricked-out versions his mother made for them, twirling their pom-poms with wild exuberance. A few folks milling around were even wearing a replica of his college jersey.

Not that Noah noticed any longer. The singular focus of his attention was on the gorgeous woman who had just rolled up with his mother and Meemaw. Charlotte looked like she'd just walked out of his high school fantasies, wearing his letterman jacket over a silk turtleneck. She'd paired it with the skin hugging jeans and boots she'd left home with this morning. An excited murmur rose from the crowd as the three women made their way over to Noah and his family.

"I hope you don't mind." She looked almost shy as she gestured to the jacket.

Mind? Nope, he didn't mind at all. He liked the idea of her wearing something of his. Of her announcing to the world that she belonged to him. A vivid image of her wearing his jersey and nothing else swam before his eyes. Without thinking, he reached for the sides of the jacket and tugged it tighter around her. The move had the happy coincidence of bringing them closer together.

"Nah, I outgrew it years ago." He lowered his voice. "It looks better on you than it ever did on me, anyway."

The corners of her lips twitched at the compliment.

"I'll second that," Chris interjected from beside them.

Noah shot his brother-in-law a look he'd seen Devlin employ to send defensive linemen scurrying. It worked like a charm.

"You know, I think I hear Ainsley crying," Chris mumbled before he disappeared into the crowd.

He'd no sooner left, however, when the president of the boosters stepped in.

"Are you ready for your big entrance, Noah?" he asked.

Noah bit back a groan. The boosters expected him to flex the entire night, beginning with a stadium entrance riding in the back of a convertible with the marching band accompanying him. All this showboating was ridiculous.

"Your family is headed into the stadium. I should go with them," Charlotte said quietly.

And the last thing he wanted to do was let Charlotte out of his sight.

Maybe not ever.

Noah looked over at her. How could he have ever believed they were from two different worlds? Out of his reach? He knew the real woman behind the moniker. He'd known her since that night in London. And she was looking at him with the same cautious optimism gripping his gut.

How you go forward is what's important.

His father's words echoed in his head. He reached for her hand to keep her from walking away. "Go for a ride with me."

It was only after the words were out of his mouth that Noah realized his question wasn't literal. There was so much more he wanted from this incredible woman. The ride into the stadium was symbolic of the beginning of a lot more. At least he hoped so. A sweat broke out at the back of his neck when Charlotte blinked several times before slaying him with a guileless smile, so beautiful it damn near knocked the wind out of him.

"I would be honored," she whispered as she laced her fingers through his and curled into his shoulder.

He lifted their joined hands and kissed her fingers. "Let's give ‘em something to talk about."

She threw back her head and laughed.