Page 56 of Call My Bluff
“Have fun!” Issa sang as she elbowed Olivia in the ribs and turned to go inside. As she passed Noah, she paused and leaned closer so only he could hear. “They’re not as scary as they act. Be brave,” she advised, and then she was gone.
The click of the door shutting behind her was the only sound that registered in Noah’s mind as the Cohen men continued to stare at him like he had a bullseye on his forehead. He swallowed and reminded himself not to slouch.
“Hey, baby girl,” Mr. Cohen drawled as he approached the porch. He pulled Olivia into a hug that probably could havesnapped her in half, if he’d wanted it to. “Now, who have you brought with you?” he asked, acknowledging Noah at last.
“Daddy, this is Noah Campbell,” Olivia started. “Noah, this is my dad, Roger Cohen.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Noah said, holding his hand out first. The older man took it with a nod of his head.
“I didn’t know you were bringing more muscle,” Mr. Cohen told his daughter. “Although another set of hands won’t hurt, I guess.” He looked Noah up and down, but in a very different way than Issa had. “You ready to be useful, young man?”
“Yes, sir,” Noah replied. He hadn’t realized this trip would include manual labor, but there was no way he could answer otherwise. Besides, it would be nice to have something to do with his hands.
“Good,” Mr. Cohen responded. “Then let’s put you to work.”
Four hours later, Noah was sweating like a pig and wondering what the penalty would be for taking off his sweatshirt. The others already had, though he didn’t think the option extended to him—especially not since Olivia was still in the yard. He looked up from where he was spreading creek gravel around a newly installed fire pit, his eyes automatically seeking her out. He found her partway up a ladder, where she was wrapping a long strand of fairy lights around the trunk and limbs of a thick oak tree. Issa stood with one foot on the bottom rung while her daughter played in the grass nearby.
“You’re staring awfully hard, Campbell,” Danny Cohen said from where he was stringing the same type of lights through the now-finished gazebo.
“What?” Noah asked, yanking his attention back to his work.
“I said you’re staring awfully hard,” Danny repeated, a little slower this time. “That’s my baby sister over there, and she’s notinterested in boys... or kissing or”—he wrinkled his nose—“anything else, so pay attention to what you’re doing.”
Noah exhaled and went back to smoothing the gravel evenly from the fire pit to the outer ring of landscaping rock.
“Lay off him, Dan. Liv deserves to be happy,” said another voice, and Michael—the older brother—came out of the garage nearby. He set a stack of Adirondack chairs beside the gazebo and straightened up. “That said, though, if you hurt her, we will find you,” he told Noah, his index finger pointed menacingly.
Noah nodded in acknowledgement as the two men began discussing which form of torture would be most appropriate for someone who broke their sister’s heart—the options ranging from arctic exposure to unsedated exploratory surgery. Noah finished with the gravel and arranged the lawn chairs in a comfortable circle around the new fire pit, refusing to let the argument unnerve him. He could stare at Olivia until he drilled holes in the back of her head, and her brothers still wouldn’t have anything to worry about. She’d always been very clear about what she wanted—anddidn’twant—and he... well, he fell into the latter category.
Danny and Michael went inside to shower just as Olivia finished hanging her lights. She waved to Noah before scooping Aria up from the ground. Then she started to cross the yard in his direction, but Mr. Cohen cut her off.
“Go on in, Livvy, and start cleaning up,” he directed. “Me and Junior need to have a chat.”
Noah tensed, his hands on the back of one of the lawn chairs, and he watched as Olivia laid a hand on her father’s arm.
“Daddy,” she warned, her voice low, but Mr. Cohen shook his head.
“He’s a grown man, Livvy. He can handle himself,” he admonished.
Noah caught Olivia’s eye for a second, and she looked like she still wanted to object, but she bit her tongue.
“Alright, but he needs to be in one piece for dinner,” she said, and then she crossed the back porch and went into the house.
Noah straightened and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dirty blue jeans; there was no point in acting like he hadn’t been listening.
Mr. Cohen’s worn-out work boots crunched against the creek gravel Noah had laid around the fire pit, and he chose one of the blue chairs to Noah’s right. “Sit down, son,” he ordered, gesturing to the next seat. “I’ve got a few things to say.”
15
Later, Noah towel-driedhis hair and did his best to make it behave. Then he dressed in khaki pants and a green button-up shirt he’d borrowed from Jake. When he felt presentable, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the upstairs hall. All the other doors had been closed when he’d gone to shower, but now the closest two were open, revealing rooms with impeccably made queen-size beds and suitcases on the floor. One had a portable baby bed in the far corner, which meant it belonged to Michael and his family, leaving the second to Danny by default.
Which must mean . . .
Noah crept along the hall to the farthest bedroom, unsure exactly what he hoped to find, and discovered that the door was cracked. Someone was definitely moving around inside. He knocked hesitantly on the doorframe. “Hey, Pix? It’s me,” he called.
“Come in!” she answered, and he pushed the door open with one hand, peeking around the edge as he did. He didn’t know what he’d expected... Red and black, maybe? Rock-and-roll posters? It certainly wasn’t the soft, feminine colors she had everywhere.The walls were powder blue, and there were gauzy green curtains over a window that faced the backyard. Her bed was covered in a fluffy white comforter with what looked like colorful wildflowers embroidered on the bottom half, and a canvas painting of mountains hung above the wooden headboard.
Olivia was sitting in a chair in front of a vanity mirror, already wearing the green dress he’d accidentally picked out. “So, you survived,” she commented, sparing his reflection a glance as she wrapped a section of her hair around a curling iron.
