Page 5 of Marrying a Spy

He sighed as he opened the car door and got inside. He placed his hands on the steering wheel and stared out at the grass in front of him.

His phone rang, pulling him from his thoughts.

He pressed the talk button on the steering wheel. “Hello?” he asked.

“Noah?”

He tried not to wince at the familiar voice of Scott, his boss. He hoped this wasn’t another catch-up call. Scott couldn’t seem to let the past stay in the past. He seemed to feel like he needed to check in about everything.

Noah knew this was a mission. He could keep his emotions in check.

Noah stifled a sigh. “Hey.”

Not the most professional way for Noah to answer the phone, but he wasn’t really in the mood. Not since… Noah shook his head. Nope. He’d promised himself that he was going to forget about it.

“Did you talk to her?”

Noah leaned his head back on the headrest. “Yes,” he said as he closed his eyes. The image of Sophia’s dark brown hair and the familiar curves of her face flooded his mind.

“And?”

Noah opened his eyes and sighed. Leave it to his boss to be straight forward. But this was a delicate situation. He needed to tread lightly if he was going to get any information from Sophia.

“I’m working on it,” he said as he pushed his hands through his hair.

“Noah.” Scott’s voice took on the familiar tone that he got when he was frustrated with Noah. “I don’t have to remind you what’s riding on this.” He dropped his voice lower. “If this has to do with—”

Noah cleared his throat. They both had differing views on how Noah should handle his past. Scott thought he should talk about it. Noah had decided that forgetting was the smartest move. There was no way he wanted to sit here and discuss his past. It was behind him. “Got it, Scott. I’ll get the info from her.”

“Remember what we discussed. If it comes down to it, the best way to sniff out James is to ask Sophia to marry—”

“I’m driving into a tunnel—I think I’m losing—”

Noah hung up and then grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. Frustration coursed through his veins. That was Scott’s solution. Pretend to marry Sophia in the hopes that her father would reach out to her.

But there was no way he could do that—not to her.

Desperate to get away from the pressure he felt bearing down on him, he started the engine and drove down the road. He’d find some backstreets and travel down memory lane.

When Sophia was done with work, he’d visit her. He needed to buy himself some time to come up with a better plan. Something that didn’t end with him breaking her heart. Again.

* * *

Noah sat outside the Rusty Barrel, listening to the muffled music coming from inside. He stared out the windshield at the familiar red siding and dark-brown doors. The window boxes exploded with flowers—just as he remembered.

He would spend every weekend here with Sophia. The Rusty Barrel had the best fish’n chips he’d ever had, plus, it was owned by Jazzy, Sophia’s aunt. Jazzy always had a soft spot for him. He was hoping to have her on his side when he approached Sophia again.

Noah wasn’t sure if Sophia was in there, but he was banking on her following her routine. She was a creature of habit. Which he understood. Growing up in chaos would do that to a person. Sophia always gravitated toward things that made sense to her—things that kept her safe.

Which, in their past, had not been Noah.

He gripped the steering wheel as he thought back to their relationship and the idiotic decisions he’d made. He’d let her down in so many ways that it was almost laughable that he thought he could gain her trust again. And to convince her to marry him? A joke.

He blew out his breath, gathered his courage, and opened the driver’s door. He needed to stop letting his head mess up his resolve and get this over with.

His boots crunched on the gravel The sun had disappeared below the horizon, and the stars were sparkling above him. Rockport was a beautiful town. But it never felt like home to him like it did to Sophia. When he had floated the idea of leaving, she would always shut him down by telling him that this was where she belonged.

Then she would ask why he didn’t feel the same.

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