When August Ends
But apparently, that wasn’t how Noah felt. Or maybe he was just using the age thing as an excuse. But here’s the real issue: I was kidding around! (Sort of.) And he had to go and make it into a serious thing, make it known there was no way in hell anything would be happening between us. What was it about rejection that made me want him even more?
My need to know more about him was pretty intense. I opened my laptop and typed into Google: Noah Cavallari photographer Pennsylvania.
His website popped right up. It was the very first search result.
Noah Cavallari Photography. Yup. That had to be him.
I clicked on it. With a sleek black background, the main page of the site featured a slideshow of breathtaking images. From photos taken on African safaris to a presidential inauguration, Noah’s career had run the gamut. According to his bio, he was born outside of Philadelphia and began taking photos at a young age. After majoring in photojournalism in college, he’d spent most of his twenties working in construction for his father while taking photos on the side. He’d eventually been able to turn photography into a flourishing, full-time business.
His career had taken him all over the world, but in more recent years, he’d opened a studio and focused on private event photography and headshots. There were no photos of him on the site aside from the bio picture, where his face was covered by a gigantic camera lens. It showed just enough, though, to confirm that this was the Noah Cavallari living in my boathouse.
Well, color me intrigued. He seemed to have a fabulous career—seemed to have it all.
So that begged the question: Why is he here?
I began to theorize.
Oh my God. Is he dying?
No. He seems too healthy, too virile.
Running from the law?
Nope. I did that background check. Came out clean.
Why would he want to come here for three whole months? I didn’t get it.
A week or two, maybe. But why so long?
What are you escaping from, Noah Cavallari?
I was determined to find out.
CHAPTER THREE
* * *
HEATHER
Two days later, a text came in from an unknown number.
At Home Depot. What color exterior paint for the boathouse?
Based on the question, I knew exactly who it was. I’d forgotten Noah had my number. But I gave my number to all tenants in my welcome email in case they needed anything.
The day after our talk at the lake, he’d reminded me to make him the list and prioritize what needed to be done. Since the exterior of the boathouse was in shambles with the paint flaking off, I’d listed that job as the top priority. I still couldn’t believe he wanted to help. He certainly wasn’t wasting any time getting started.
Heather: How about a gray?
The little dots danced as he typed.
Noah: There are several shades of gray.
I decided to be a wiseass.
Heather: Fifty? ?
Noah: Very funny.
Heather: Thank you.
Noah then sent a photo of a paint card with five gray options.
Noah: Do you like any of these?
Heather: So you’re familiar with that book?
Noah: Cut the shit, Heather.
Heather: LOL. The second gray is perfect.
There were no more texts after that.
***
An hour later, I spotted Noah outside the boathouse, getting straight to work. I squinted at his shirtless physique as he rolled primer onto the wood. He was way too far away for my liking. If he was going to be working outside like this all summer, I’d need to invest in a set of binoculars.
My mother snuck up behind me. “What are you looking at?”
“Huh?” I jumped, closing the curtain. “Nothing.”
“You were struggling to see something. What’s so interesting?”
I sighed. “I was watching Noah paint the boathouse.”
I’d told my mother about his offer to help. She was extremely skeptical, to say the least.
“I don’t understand why he’s doing that. What’s in it for him?”
“He seems to want to help. He says he likes to keep busy.”
My mother’s eyes narrowed. “You’d better be careful. He might want something in return.”
I laughed. “Believe me, I wish he did. But he’s made it very clear he doesn’t. Unfortunately, I believe him.”
She seemed concerned. It was strange to get any real emotion out of her lately. But the idea of something happening between the new tenant and me hit all the right buttons.
“You say that like you’ve offered something to him.”
“I teased him about having an ulterior motive for helping, and he didn’t take it very well. He snapped at me. He can’t take a joke. He’s all business. He thinks I’m jailbait and wants nothing to do with me. He thought I was a teenager when we first met. He treats me like one, too.”
“You seem disappointed.”
Laughing under my breath, I said, “I sort of am.”
“That’s crazy, Heather. The last person you should get involved with is someone just passing through town. You don’t know anything about this guy. He’s also too old for you.”
“I don’t know. He won’t tell me his age.” I chuckled.
“Well, I don’t care what he claims, no man does what he’s doing right now without an ulterior motive. You can’t expect me to believe my beautiful, blond daughter has nothing to do with it.”
She was getting on my nerves now. I could see why she might think that. But she hadn’t experienced what I had with Noah. I truly believed he wanted nothing to do with me, nor did I believe his intentions were anything but good.
“I know you’re conditioned to think all men are bad. Based on your personal experience of Dad abandoning us, I can’t even blame you. But that’s not the case all the time.”
Her expression darkened. “I’ve already lost one daughter. I can’t stand to lose another.”
She couldn’t be serious.
“How is Noah painting the boathouse going to put my life in jeopardy? Think about what you’re saying.”
“I didn’t mean he’d harm you physically. But I can’t afford to have you take off with some man.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re taking this too far. He came here to get away from the daily grind for a while. He likes to keep busy and knows we could use the help. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
She wouldn’t drop it. “I’m afraid there is. I might not be thinking clearly half of the time, but I’m not blind. You’re my daughter. I know you. I can see that look in your eyes. You’re smitten. Women do crazy things for men they’re smitten with. And men? They may tell you one thing, but they’re weak. If you keep throwing yourself at him, he will give in.”
I shrugged. “One can only hope.”
She rolled her eyes, none too pleased with my humor. “Just be careful.”
***
That evening, I was just about dressed and ready to leave for my shift at the restaurant when I noticed someone over at the boathouse talking to Noah while he worked.
My heart dropped.
It was Kira Shaw, our closest neighbor. Kira was in her early thirties and divorced. With long red hair and killer curves, she was very attractive. She also always seemed to be dating a different guy. In fact, I used to babysit her boys while she went out on some of her escapades. She was perpetually on the prowl and had no issue with bringing different men into her bedroom while her sons were home.
I knew right away she was making a play for Noah. And I didn’t like it one bit.
My pulse began to race. Sure, this jealousy was unfounded. I had no business getting involved, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t know much about Noah, but I knew he was intelligent, respectful, and seemed to be a decent human being. That was enough for me to know he deserved more than that washed-up skank in her ridiculously short shorts. She knew how to turn on the charm and could easily trick him. He wouldn’t know to stay away from her unless I warned him. Like my mother said, men are weak. I knew Kira was going to act fast, so I needed to do the same.
Under the guise of bringing him a cold drink—something I probably should have done hours ago—I filled a glass with ice water and marched over to the boathouse.
Perspiring, I interrupted them. “Thought you might be thirsty.”
Noah looked down at me from the ladder and wiped some sweat off his forehead before stepping down.
He took the glass. “Well, I’m perfectly capable of walking into the house to get a drink, so you didn’t have to do that, but thanks.”
I shrugged. “You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do.”
I turned to stare at Kira, trying to give her a hint that her presence wasn’t welcome.
She couldn’t have cared less about me. Her eyes were fixed on Noah’s ass as he climbed back up the ladder.
“You’ve hit the tenant jackpot with Noah here, Heather.”
I shot daggers at her. “I know, right?”
“Are you heading to work?” she asked.
“Yeah. But I’m not in a rush. Don’t have to be there for another hour.” I crossed my arms.
I was totally late for work, but no way was I leaving until skankface was gone. She suddenly seemed to pick up on my vibe.
She turned to Noah. “Well, think about dinner, Noah. I’d love to have you, and I know the boys would love to meet you, too. Any night that’s good for you works for me. You know where to find me for a hot meal and a cold beer.”