You need to be careful.”
“Why?” Noah honestly wanted to know. Was it really such a big deal? It’s not as if they were cohabitating.
Marissa’s eyebrow lifted. “People already think there’s something going on because of that talk the two of you had in the parking lot. Do you want the whole town talking about you?”
Noah’s stomach rolled. He did not want the whole town talking about him.
“This is ridiculous.” Kyle piped up with a snort. “What are they going to say? That he helped someone move? That they’re neighbors?”
The roll slowed. His brother had a point. Living next to each other wasn’t scandalous. “We’re just neighbors. I hardly know her.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about the interview. I don’t think you should do it,” Marissa insisted.
Just when he was thinking that he should.
“Marissa.” Kyle draped an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”
Marissa’s face was set in a hard line. She glanced at her husband. “Have you forgotten what it was like here after she wrote that article about you?”
Kyle nodded. “I remember, babe.” He wrapped his arm more tightly around her. “But that doesn’t mean it’ll be the same for Noah.”
Noah watched the tension seep out of his sister-in-law. “I know. I just worry.” She looked at him, brackets of that worry around her mouth.
He was deeply touched. “It’ll be fine. She’s not going to write anything horrible about me.” Her openness today had convinced him of that. She was telling the truth about what people in Wheaton wanted. A blistering exposé on him was not it.
“I know her better than you.” She turned her head and looked at her husband. “Better than both of you.”
“You knew her better before,” Kyle said. He ran a hand up and down Marissa’s arm. “Maybe she’s changed.”
Marissa sighed. “Maybe. But I’m going on record now that I am not in love with this idea.”
“I haven’t even said I’ll do it.” Noah told them. He would wait to see how Sabrina’s article on Pete turned out before making a final decision. “But even if I agree, it’s only one interview. I’ve handled reporters plenty of times. I know how to stay on message.”
If Sabrina asked him a question he didn’t want to answer, all he had to do was respond with a piece of information he did want to share. Simple.
And there wasn’t much that was off-limits. His life wasn’t exciting enough for that. Look how he was spending his Saturday night. Hanging out with his younger brother and family instead of drinking beer and eating pizza with his sexy new neighbor. He bashed the thought down.
Marissa frowned. “She’s not some small-town reporter who’s going to ask what your favorite pie is. She’s a professional, and she’s good.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You sound almost complimentary.”
“Well, I don’t mean to.” But a ghost of a smile drifted across her face.
Noah smiled, too. “It’ll be fine.” Sabrina was welcome to ask about his childhood and how that had shaped him. How being the only kid in school who didn’t have a biological parent had impressed upon him the need for community spirit, how a person could forge family bonds with anyone they loved, blood-relation or not and how giving back fulfilled him.
He wouldn’t have to share that he still felt as if he was trying to achieve “local” status, how he often felt that he didn’t fit in, that if he stopped giving back, the residents might eventually lose interest in having him.
Those were his own private demons and not for public consumption.
EVEN BEFORE SHE met Pete Peters in person, Sabrina knew she wouldn’t like him. In their phone conversations, he’d called her darling twice and joked about women in the construction business as if women couldn’t swing hammers and saw wood with any hope of competency.
The interview did nothing to change her initial opinion. But as she’d told Noah, these articles weren’t about snarking on the candidates. So she wrote as polite an article as possible about Pete, leaving out his rampant chauvinism and highlighting his family instead.
She was proud of her work. Really, it had been difficult not to let her distaste of the subject creep through, but she’d done it. Since the article had run three days ago, she’d received multiple compliments on it.
In the city, Sabrina had often wondered if people read her work at all.
But she wasn’t in the city right now, she reminded herself. She looked at her newly bare walls, ignoring the pile of hideous Easter-egg-colored wallpaper piled in the corner. The walls were in decent shape, requiring only a bit of patching.
She hadn’t seen much of Noah since he’d helped her move a little over a week ago. She’d thought he might come knocking on her door this morning, or pop into the coffee shop to schedule that interview, but she hadn’t seen him at all.
Sabrina hoped he’d read the article. If not, she had an extra copy sitting on her coffee table that she could personally deliver.
She patched the nail holes and the intermittent dents in the walls. Once the putty dried, she could sand and paint. She stepped back and dusted her hands on the seat of her shorts. Might as well go get the paint now. Tuesday evening was bound to be quiet at the hardware store and she didn’t have anything better to do.
Sad, but true. In her old life she’d be on her way out for dinner and drinks on a patio, maybe heading to a club for some live music. Or having a barbecue on the beach with friends. Here? She was watching home-decorating shows and stripping wallpaper. Such a glamorous life she led.
Sabrina grabbed her purse from her bedroom and glanced at her footwear in the open closet. Her old red cowboy boots stared back at her, bright and cheerful and a memento of bygone days. She’d had some good times in those boots.
Being named Miss Northern Lights at the town’s annual festival for the second year in a row. Getting caught smoking and drinking behind one of the tents at same festival and being uncrowned. High school graduation day. Graduation night.
She remembered the day she bought them. She and Marissa had been shopping for Marissa’s sweet-sixteen party when she’d seen them sitting on top of a pedestal, practically glowing at her. Like fire. She’d snatched them up and held them to her chest, ready to do battle if necessary and looked over to find Marissa doing the same thing to a pair in cotton-candy-pink. They hadn’t stopped laughing until they’d left the store wearing the boots. They’d been the talk of the party. But then, they always were.
Sabrina still hadn’t seen Marissa. Since there were only a few thousand people who called the town home and Sabrina was confident she’d seen every one of them multiple times, she could only assume that it was a purposeful snub. She’d hoped
