Page 3

Chapter three

Declan

I stared at the big spiderweb crack on one side of the masonry on my wall. More than a few of these had emerged around my house, and I had the feeling they were indicative of a more serious issue. However, repair work was out of my depth, a long-running joke in a family who owned a contracting business. Guaranteed if Dad, Ollie, or Cor saw this, they’d yell at me for not getting this fixed earlier. But I didn’t invite my siblings over. My home was my space to breathe. I was happy to meet them at Mom and Dad’s or wherever they happened to arrange get-togethers.

Which was far too often, to be honest. My family was a needy bunch.

The temptation to dig into the cracks and peel away the pieces rose something fierce, but that’d be counterproductive to the whole fixing the house issue. Thankfully, Ollie had contacted one of his masonry specialist friends, and they were coming over to give me a quote .

Waiting didn’t crawl under my skin, but lateness did, and I checked my watch for the dozenth time in the past five minutes. Contractors were notoriously late, though. Ollie always said they ran on their own time, which seemed a bit bullshit to me. They had watches and phones and were capable of checking them, like the rest of us.

The chill of October’s breezes wrapped around me, raising the hairs on my arms. I scrubbed at them, willing them to go down. My phone buzzed, and I checked. Just Jacob and Henry trying to get me to go to a movie with them. However, they’d started dating recently, and while I appreciated them including me, they’d spend the entire time making gooey eyes at each other. Beyond that, the movie wasn’t high on my list. Superheroes were less my thing. Sci-fi or fantasy, on the other hand, and I would’ve been in.

I stared down the street as if I could manifest the contractor into existence. I gave the crack a poke, and a chunk crumbled off. Probably shouldn’t have done that. A burst of adrenaline ran through my veins, though, and I poked at it again. More crumbled off.

Oops, shouldn’t have done that either.

The rumble of a car came near, and a gunmetal-gray Honda Accord slowed in front of my house. Curiouser and curiouser. I’d expected the typical work van.

The driver’s side door opened, and an all too familiar figure stepped out.

I didn’t bother restraining my groan.

Noah wasn’t dressed in coveralls, so what was he doing in my driveway? Surely, he wasn’t the specialist I had been waiting for, but I hadn’t invited him over either. The sun caught the light on his blond strands, finger-length and tousled. He flashed me one of those too-bright grins, and I squinted. The man was sunshine incarnate, and it blinded me .

And like the sunshine, he was also just as fleeting.

“Hey, Dec,” he called, like he used to when we were kids.

I wrinkled my nose. That rankled. He had changed, and we were no longer the people we once were. Also, I needed him to leave because I had a contractor coming. “What are you doing here?”

“Flannery Contractors appointment, right?” He walked up to me in long, sure strides.

Oh no.

My shoulders squared off a little tighter.

“I’m your contractor,” he said. “Here to do the quote.”

“Bit underdressed, aren’t you?”

Noah lifted a brow. “Should I be wearing a tux?”

A laugh bubbled out of me, one I regretted at once. The idea of a bunch of contractors showing up in tuxedos was ridiculous. Like a huddle of penguins about to set to work.

“Right, so next time I’m showing up dressed to the nines,” he said, his eyes sparkling. His light brown lashes looked longer than usual under the bright rays, and he had somehow edged into my space, standing mere inches from me. I was aware because I always grew aware of him. “However, I don’t need coveralls to give you a quote. And I’m pretty sure you’re standing right by the issue.”

“One of them.”

His eyes bugged out, and while I should be more worried about his reaction, I took a little satisfaction in throwing him off his game. Noah was always smiling, always chill, always happy, and the urge to needle at that, to see if he hid behind masks too, rose to the fore.

“Dec, these are major stresses in the walls of your house .” He stared at me like I was insane, but I ate those looks for breakfast. Delicious and nutritious .

“Well, I haven’t had water pouring in through the walls, so I figured it was fine.” I placed a hand on my hip. “But I am hiring your company for a reason.”

Noah rubbed his chin as he skimmed up and down the wall. “Yeah, this is going to be a job and a half.”

I shrugged. “Whatever you need to do.”

“Just like that?” Noah’s mouth tugged at the edges, threatening to break into a smile.

“This is your field of expertise, is it not? So tell me what needs to be done, and I’ll hire you for the job.”

Noah let out a whistle. “If only all clients were as easy as you. I’m going to inspect around the house, and then I’ll be able to give you a better quote.”

“All right. I’m going to make some tea,” I said, preparing to go inside.

“I’ll take mine with honey,” Noah called to me, passing me a wink. I shook my head, trying to ignore the way my skin prickled. God, being around him irritated me. And before I ever got the chance to figure out why, he’d get whisked away by whatever shiny person flashed his way, and then we’d have to start the process all over again. Rinse, wash, and repeat for well over a decade now. The only reprieve I’d gotten was during college, since I’d been in the city.

The second I stepped into my house, some of the pressure disappeared, though a tingling remained, an awareness that Noah stood outside, examining my house. I’d bought the small two-story home on the outskirts of town, close enough to my family for convenience but far enough that they couldn’t walk over. Because they would.

I scuttled over to my kitchen, which was meticulously clean, less from effort and more from the fact that I used it next to never. Most of the food I cooked was problematic for my digestive system. My siblings called it inedible. Pouring the water, starting the kettle, and grabbing the mugs were all rituals I clung to. While most of America worshipped the altar of coffee, I was a diehard tea aficionado. I had over a hundred different types, and fuck, I should’ve checked with Noah to ask what kind of tea he wanted.

It would bother me if I didn’t. My legs already carried me back outside.

He was examining my other side wall, one with another lovely set of cracks. He wasn’t talking or smiling, so he must be focusing on the job. While Noah’s presence irritated me, I could respect he was a good craftsman. Cor and Dad had recommended him before, and they were choosy with their opinions. Ollie would recommend him just for being a nice guy, which ultimately wasn’t helpful in the slightest.

“Is it looking bad?” I asked.

“Well, it’s not looking good.” He clutched the back of his neck. He had one of those long necks, his prominent Adam’s apple setting off his square cleft jaw with nice symmetry.

“What type of tea do you want?”

Noah glanced at me, those eyes bluer than the sky today, which happened to be cloudless. “There are types?”

A groan slipped from me. “Oh god. Do you drink the yellow Lipton bags they serve at diners?”

“More of a coffee drinker.” He flashed me a grin. “But I’m just teasing, Dec. How about you make me your favorite?”

I let out a huff. That wasn’t a good metric of what he’d like. Everyone was different, with wildly contrasting tea tastes. “If you’re a coffee drinker, you’d probably like an Irish breakfast tea.”

“Then that.” His eyes crinkled around the edges, giving them a softness. Not like he ever had hard eyes or anything.

Crap, the tea water would be done boiling .

“I’ll go finish the tea.” I pivoted and dashed inside. Again, my skin prickled as if his presence overwhelmed me. I tapped my thigh, trying to cool the jumble of confusion I became around Noah. Twice in a week was unreasonable. Usually, I could pace our encounters with a few months of padding them out. They were never long because someone always needed him, and then he’d rush away.

My chest clenched. No point in chasing people who didn’t have the time for me.

The electric kettle had clicked off, and I placed the Irish breakfast in his mug and a lavender Earl Grey in mine. I poured the water in, and the color trailing from the bag mesmerized me. I checked the clock for the precise time. Black tea only needed to steep for three to five minutes, though I preferred five.

My heart thrummed harder like I’d been running at a cross-country pace. While I waited for the tea to be ready, I stared up at the ceiling. The project I had for the formula for longer-lasting batteries beckoned me. They had nothing to do with my job and everything to do with advancing our efforts to explore space. People often focused on the big and flashy aspects of venturing into the universe and forgot about the details, this being one of them.

A knock sounded on my door.

“Come on in.” My gaze drifted to the clock on the microwave. Time to take the tea bags out. I moved on automatic, getting them prepared and then bringing the honey out. Like this, I could pretend Noah was just anyone, not the person I had the most complicated relationship with on the face of this earth.

Except then he stepped into the kitchen, and he swallowed up all the space in here. My chest grew a little tighter, and I scratched at it. Even removed from the sun, his blond strands were still glossy and artfully tousled, and the way his blue tee clung to his shoulders kept drawing my attention.

“The tea’s ready.” I pointed at the mug. “And there’s honey here, so you can doctor it how you want.”

He brushed by me to reach for the honey, and our arms touched. A shock like static electricity rippled through me, and I shivered. This was one of the many reasons why I avoided him so much. No one else affected me like he did.

Noah clutched the mug and passed me another grin, though it wavered. “So I have some bad news.”

“I assume my house is about to fall down.”

Noah let out a laugh. “All paper houses here, baby.”

“Paper would cost a lot less to fix.” I took a sip of the tea. The taste and warmth that greeted my tongue put me at ease.

“Your exterior walls have a lot of stress fractures and need major restoration work. It’s not cheap.”

I shrugged. “I mean, that’s why I have a job, right? To cover repairs like this.”

Noah shook his head. “Wow, no struggle? No back and forth here? I’ll take it. I can start the repair this week if that works?”

“I’m guessing if I don’t get it fixed, my house will crumble around me when the next storm hits. So, yes.”

“Mmm, ever get water pouring in through your walls?” he asked.

“Can’t say I have, but I assume I’ll get the delight of the experience soon with the walls in the shape they are.”

“What the fuck did you do to them, Dec?” Noah sipped his tea. His eyes widened. “This is really good.”

Pride thrummed through me. “I know. And as for the walls, nothing. They were okay when I moved in, and they got worse and worse over the past five years. ”

He tapped the side of my countertop, the sound echoing in my kitchen. “Want me to send you the quote via email with the breakdowns of what needs to be done?”

“I’d prefer that, yes.” I continued to sip at my tea, blissfully not thinking about my walls. The positive of working the career I did was not having to worry about things like house repairs. Unless the walls did break and my project in the basement got flooded. The first fringes of panic filtered in. Damn, okay, it was good I got this dealt with.

Noah leaned against my counter with a casualness that should bother me. However, he seemed to be enjoying the tea I’d made, and that stole my attention. The way the liquid glossed his lips and his light hum after he finished drinking it. My heart thumped hard like it tried to remind me I was alive. Clearly, I didn’t need a reminder, since I was still upright.

He placed the cup on the counter. “All right. I’d better be off…” He lifted an eyebrow as if he were waiting for…well, I wasn’t sure what. He’d done the assessment, so his job was complete.

I nodded in acknowledgment.

He dipped his head, but when he looked up, he flashed me another grin. “I’m heading out. Get ready to see a lot of me this week.” With that, he sauntered toward the door.

I watched him walk away, his strides powerful.

Then his statement filtered in.

Oh.

He was doing the repair.

Oh no.

Avoiding him had just become impossible.