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"I was in a group of developers. They called it a pod. We had various assignments, just like the MADS team. One distinct difference was that no one but our manager was privy to the project overview. And even then, I think he had limited information. They only assigned us pieces, and we never got to see the finished product."
"It sounds like a manufacturing environment," Noah commented.
"Huh. I never thought about it like that, but you're right. We were like an assembly line. Code this, code that. But I liked it okay. You were often thrown challenging problems with short deadlines, so you had to get creative." She felt a tug on her hair and turned her head. Noah arranged her mess of curls over his shoulder.
"Sorry, your hair was in my mouth."
"Yeah, that happens. I have a lot of hair."
"It's beautiful, though. Have you always worn it long?" He played with the ends as if reluctant to let go.
"I cut it once. It was much easier to manage, but I looked like a boy and despised it. Now I just keep scrunchies everywhere, so I can tuck it out of the way when I need to." She'd twisted around to watch his face. His gaze met hers and he let her hair go.
He cleared his throat. "You were telling me about your work. Do you like what you're doing at Caprock better?"
"Yeah, I'm beginning to. Things were rough at first, not really knowing what my role was, but I do like how I can see the big picture and how everything's connected. I never had that at my last job, so I didn't know what I was missing. I was happy to be a cog in the wheel. But now I know it's so much better to see the whole thing and to know what we're working toward. And here, I feel like people value my input. Like, they actually listen to me."
"You didn't feel valued at your previous company?" Noah asked, as he tucked the blanket more closely around them.
Claire hesitated. Now they were getting into a tricky area. As much as she'd begun to trust Noah, she still wasn't comfortable sharing her experience. She'd heard too many horror stories about women being dismissed or written off after sharing their stories of harassment or unfair treatment.
"Well…"
A blinding light blazed throughout the room, causing them both to jump. Noah held his hand up to block the brightness and Claire looked around in a daze. The overhead light in the room had come on, as well as the bathroom light.
She turned back to Noah. A frown marred his face, his head tilted. "The electricity is back on," she said.
"Yes. And the furnace just kicked on. Our rooms should be warming up soon." He sighed. "Looks like we don't need to figure out a plan for sleeping tonight."
Claire blew out a breath, and she rubbed her chest. She should be relieved they wouldn't have to share a bed. So why did she feel deflated and let down?
The weight of Noah's stare had her raising her eyes to meet his. That teasing spark was back in them. "Unless you still want to consider sharing a bed, Red? It's our last day here." His volume dropped into a whisper. "No one would know."
Chapter 23
Back to England
Noah snuck a peek at his silent companion. Claire sat against the car door, staring out the window, watching the miles go by. She'd been quiet the entire ride and he wondered if her thoughts were as chaotic as his. Did she have regrets? Was she second-guessing herself?
Their morning—was it really still Wednesday?—had started with a rush to reach the Air Force base, a short flight to Birmingham, and a quick handoff to the hire car. Between the crowd on the plane and the driver's presence in the car, they'd had no chance to talk about what had happened. Not that he was sure what he would've said.
Thank goodness he'd had the foresight to arrange the car yesterday afternoon, because last night, he'd been spectacularly distracted.
He never thought he'd accuse modern conveniences of cock-blocking, but the timing of the power coming back on was almost comical. He'd been this close to sweet-talking Claire into his bed. And while he understood her reasons for declining, his body had filed a formal protest. Still, that she'd even considered it? That had floored him.
Until this trip, her lack of reaction to their obvious physical attraction had left him guessing. But last night? And this morning? Yeah, they'd made the right call. Their reputations were too important to risk on something that might've been a short-lived thrill.
And yet, he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Relief loosened something in his chest as the car finally pulled to a stop in front of his house. His cobalt-blue door stood out among the row of neutral facades, and the sight of it grounded him. He'd loved that color from the moment he saw it—bold, unapologetic, and his.
"Thanks, Ferris," Noah said, grabbing his bag as the driver helped Claire with hers. They'd all shared a laugh at the airport over the novelty of seeing him again so soon.
"You're sure you don't need a ride to the office?" Ferris asked.
"No, mate, we're good. Appreciate you being available at such short notice."
While Noah said their goodbyes to Ferris, Claire yawned and studied his neighborhood. She'd gotten no sleep last night, her mind replaying Noah's invitation over and over and wondering if she'd made the right call. Or if she'd ruined everything by saying no. With the rush to get back to England, they'd had no time to check in with each other.
