“That didn’t seem real to you?” His gaze had gone steely, but Katie didn’t let that stop her.
“What’s real to me is wanting a husband and a family.” She bit down on her lip. “Great sex isn’t enough.”
“And that’s all I’m good for?”
“You don’t want anything else.” She fisted her hands, digging her fingernails into the fleshy part of her palms. “Right?”
He didn’t answer, just continued to stare. So many emotions flashed through his gaze.
“This is a difficult time for you. I went to see your mom yesterday.”
“I talked to her on the way here,” he answered on a tired breath. His shoulders slumped as if he carried a huge weight on them. “She told me.”
“She’s worried about you and Emily. About the toll this will take on both of you.”
Noah scrubbed one hand over his face. “Did you meet Emily’s son?”
“Davey?” Katie nodded. “I did.”
“Then you know Em’s got her hands full.”
“You both will after tomorrow.”
“We’ll get through it. I’m sorry, Katie,” he said again. “Disappointing the people I care about is something I can’t seem to help.”
“I’m fine. Really.” She stepped around the counter. “I need to get back out front. There will be enough talk as it is.”
“Mom’s cooking lasagna tonight. She insisted on a family dinner before her surgery.” He lifted his hand as if to touch her then dropped it again. “Would you join us? She thinks of you as part of the family.”
“I can’t.” She offered a small smile. “I have a date tonight.”
She saw him stiffen, but he returned her smile. “You really do deserve a good guy.” He shut his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again his mask was firmly back in place. This was the Noah he showed to the outside world, the guy Katie didn’t particularly like—all backslapping and fake laughter.
As if on cue, he gently chucked her shoulder. “If this one gives you any trouble, he’ll have to deal with me.” He turned and walked out to the front of her shop, leaving her alone in the kitchen that had been her second home since she was a girl.
Katie stood there for several minutes, trying to regain her composure. She was too old for girlish fantasies. She’d held tight to her secret crush on Noah for years, and it had got her nowhere except alone. She did deserve a good man, and no matter how much she wanted to believe Noah could be that man, he clearly wasn’t interested.
It was time she moved on with her life.
“Do you want another glass of milk?” Noah’s mother was halfway out of her chair before she’d finished the question. “More salad?”
“Mom, sit down.” Noah leaned back in his chair, trying to tamp down the restlessness that had been clawing at him since he’d moved his duffel bag into his old room at the top of the stairs. “You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, especially the night before your surgery. You need to rest.”
His mother waved away his concerns. “I’ll have plenty of time to rest during my recovery. I want to take care of the two of you...” His mom’s voice broke off as she swiped at her eyes. “To thank you for putting your lives on hold for me. I’m so sorry to put this burden on either of you.”
A roaring pain filled Noah’s chest. His mother, Meg Crawford, was the strongest person he knew. She’d been the foundation of his family for Noah’s whole life. Her love and devotion to Noah’s late father, Jacob, was the stuff of legend around town. She’d been at her husband’s side through the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer and for the next year as they’d tried every available treatment until the disease finally claimed him. She’d been the best example of how to care for someone Noah could have asked for. As difficult as it was to be back in this house, he owed his mother so much more than he could ever repay in one summer.
He glanced at his sister, whose gaze remained fixed on the young boy sitting quietly next to her at the table. Something had been going on with Emily since she’d returned to Crimson with her son. Normally she would have rushed in to assure their mother that everything was going to be fine. That was Em’s role. She was the upbeat, positive Crawford, but there was a change in her that Noah didn’t understand.
He cleared his throat. “We want to be here, Mom. It’s no trouble. You are no trouble.” That sounded lame but it was the best he could do without breaking down and crying like a baby. The surgeon had reassured them of the outcome of tomorrow’s surgery, but so many things could go wrong. “It’s all going to be fine,” he said, forcing a smile as he spoke the words. “Right, Em?”
Emily started as if he’d pinched her under the table, a trick he’d perfected at family dinners and during Sunday church services when they were growing up. She focused her gaze, her eyes the same blue color their father’s had been, first on Noah then on her mother. “Of course. You’re going to get through this, Mom. We’re all going to get through it together. And we’re happy to spend a summer in Colorado. Henry’s family will be in Nantucket by now. The beach is great, except for all that sand. Right, Davey?” She ruffled her son’s hair then drew back quickly as he pulled away.
“Can I play now, Mommy?” Davey, Emily’s four-year-old son, stared at his plate. He looked like his father, Noah thought. He’d only met his brother-in-law, Henry Whitaker, the weekend of Emily’s wedding in Boston four years ago, but he knew Davey got his thick dark hair from his father. The boy’s eyes, however, were just like Emily’s. And his smile... Come to think of it, Noah hadn’t seen Davey smile once since they’d arrived in Colorado.
Emily’s own smile was brittle as she answered, “You’ve barely touched your meatballs, sweetie. Grandma made them from scratch.”
“Don’t like meatballs,” Davey mumbled, his dark eyes shifting to Noah’s mom then back to his plate. He sucked the collar of his T-shirt into his mouth before Emily tugged it down again.
“Not everyone likes meatballs,” Meg told him gently. Noah couldn’t think of one person who didn’t like his mother’s homemade meatballs and sauce but didn’t bother mentioning that. “I think it would be fine if you went to play, Davey. If you’re hungry later, I’ll make you a bowl of cereal or a cheese sandwich.”
Before Emily could object, the boy scrambled off his chair and out of the room.
“He can’t live on only cereal, cheese and bread,” Emily said with a weary sigh. She picked up the uneaten spaghetti and passed it to Noah. “No sense in this going to waste.”
Noah wasn’t going to argue.
“When you were a girl, there was a month where you ate nothing but chicken nuggets and grapes. Kids go through stages, Emily.”
“It’s not a stage, Mom, and you know it. You know—”
