Home to Whiskey Creek (Whiskey Creek #4)(65)
Author: Brenda Novak

She said that as if it would be the end—if the end didn’t happen sooner. But tonight had been so incredibly fulfilling he didn’t want to call her on the finality in her voice. Maybe she had problems with trust from her divorce, like she’d indicated. Or maybe something else had occurred when she was abducted, something she didn’t want to admit. There was no need to push, no need to spook her. Noah believed in letting things develop naturally. They were seeing each other; for the moment, that was enough.

“What happened between you and Baxter North?” she asked.

He cupped her breast and lowered his head to kiss it. “He’s moving.”

“That makes you mad at him?”

“No. He’s got the right to do whatever he wants.”

“So why are all your friends worried about him?”

“He’s going through some…personal issues.”

“That’s polite talk for ‘I’m not going to tell you,’” she said with a laugh.

He nuzzled her neck. “Sorry.”

“Will you be sad to see him go?”

“Absolutely.” But Noah felt it might be more complicated if he stayed. He changed his mind on that day by day, almost minute by minute.

Once they’d both established what they wanted out of life, he hoped they could be friends again. “We’re at a crossroads.”

“What does that mean for him?”

“A future in San Francisco, where he works.”

“And for you?”

“I’m thinking of retiring.”

She sat up straight. “From biking?”

“If not this year, next.”

“But…you love it, don’t you?”

“I can’t compete forever. I’ll be thirty-four soon. It’s sad when fifteen-, sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds are starting to give you competition.” He wiped the water from his face. “Some of them are amazing.”

“What would you do if you retired?”

“Run my store. What else?”

“You wouldn’t sell out? Leave Whiskey Creek?”

“And go where? This is my home. I like it here.” He saw a wife and kids in his future, but he didn’t add that. He didn’t want her to think he was being presumptuous.

He let the silence linger for a few minutes. Then he said, “Do you really have to sell Just Like Mom’s? I mean…why not stay and run it? What’s in Davis that’s drawing you back?”

“I have friends there.”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “You could always visit them.”

“I’ve just never seen myself settling here.”

“Why not?”

She got up. “I have to go.”

He watched her, gilded in moonlight, as she climbed the steps. “Will you still be talking to me in the morning?” he asked.

She must’ve heard the teasing note in his voice because she cast a smile over one shoulder. “Yes.”

“I’ll take that on faith. But, if it’s all the same to you, this time I’ll get your number.”

“That’s fine.” She laughed, then sobered. “Just…I’d rather no one else knew…if we see each other again.”

He got out, too, and handed her one of the towels he stored in a cupboard. “If?”

“What we do is no one’s business.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “Things don’t really work that way in Whiskey Creek. We wouldn’t be able to go anywhere if we want to keep this private. Why the big secret?”

“I’d feel more comfortable. At least at first.”

“You’re a mystery to me.” He kissed her forehead as he said it. He decided they’d just take what they felt for each other one day at a time. He had no idea what might or might not develop.

But he soon figured out one possible reason she was so hesitant to let others know about their relationship. He went out to start her car while she dried her hair, so the heater would be on since it had begun to rain, and found a piece of paper stuck under her windshield wiper.

There was only one line of typed text. It was smeared because of the rain. But he could read it.

Stay away from Noah or that mine will be your burial place, too!

22

Noah didn’t mention the note to Addy. He folded it up and shoved it in the pocket of his zippered sweatshirt before she could come out. Only after he’d kissed her good-night, warned her to be careful and followed her home in his own vehicle to make sure she got in safely did he take it out and read it again. Then he drove slowly up and down her street as well as his to see if someone was around—following her, watching her.

What was going on? Who would leave such a note? And why?

The tone sounded like that of a jealous woman. But he hadn’t been with anyone else in months, except Lisa, and he doubted she’d bother driving out to Whiskey Creek from the Bay Area, where she lived, just to torment whatever woman he was dating—not now that she thought he was g*y. She didn’t even know about Cody, would have no reason to refer to the mine.

No, considering that and the fact that Addy had been abducted, he didn’t think it was Lisa or any other woman. Something else was going on. He couldn’t guess what, exactly, but he knew one thing for sure. Whoever had put that note on her windshield had to be keeping a close eye on her. They hadn’t left the party until midnight, so there wasn’t a lot of traffic when they drove home. And his house was tucked back behind the store. Her SUV couldn’t easily be seen from the street.

Someone knew where she was and what she was doing, and that worried him, because if she was being intimidated, her abduction and beating wasn’t an isolated incident. She said if she kept her mouth shut, it would be over. But it seemed to him that someone was harassing her in an ongoing, well-orchestrated and targeted campaign.

When Noah parked in his driveway, he sat there for a few minutes, waiting to see if he’d notice anyone lurking about. He’d been so caught up in the fallout of Baxter’s revelation and decision to move, and coping with Addy’s initial rejection, that he’d simply pushed on with his own life, treating her abduction with curiosity but no commitment, as if it were none of his business. That was how she treated it. She’d let him know in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want him getting involved.

But whatever was going on felt very much a part of his business now. How dare anyone tell her she couldn’t see him? And, if she was still having trouble, why hadn’t she gone to the police?