Page 51 of How to Love Your Neighbor
As she walked toward her front door, she realized she wasn’t worried about her bedhead, ratty T-shirt, or baggy flannel pajama pants. She should either marry this man or make him her best friend. There were few people in life who kept witnessing her in such unguarded states.
When she pulled the door open, Noah stood on her porch, clutching a small bouquet of flowers.
Laughter and tears bubbled up, wanting to escape. She stepped back.
“I believe these are a more appropriate size,” he said, passing them over.
“Maybe you should stop doing things that make you feel like you have to apologize.”
He gave a wry laugh, closing the door behind him as she took the flowers. “That’s an excellent idea. And my plan.”
“Do you want a drink? Some warm milk? I don’t usually entertain at this hour so I don’t know what the etiquette is.”
He followed her to the kitchen. “I’m good. I think, at this point, we’ve thrown etiquette out the window.”
“Like my mallet?” She looked back over her shoulder.
“Is that what that was? It scared the hell out of me. I thought you were going to take my head off. You’ve got a wicked arm.”
“Star pitcher all through school. Good thing you moved and my feet didn’t.”
She pulled a vase out from under the cupboard with one hand, set the flowers down so she could fill it. Her heart rate had settled but her chest felt too tight.
Using the mundane task of organizing the flowers, she avoidedlooking at him. He was a lot easier to be angry with, to blame for her feelings and the events of the day, when she wasn’t looking directly at him. When he wasn’t making her laugh or looking at her like he was dying of thirst and she was the only water around. She caught those glimpses so infrequently, she wondered if she imagined them. When she couldn’t fuss with the flowers any longer, she turned, leaned her hip against the sink.
Noah was leaning against the doorjamb that separated the kitchen from the living room. With a lot more grace than she’d pulled off at his house.
“You didn’t need to stain my deck.”
“I wanted to do something toshowyou I’m sorry.”
Her easily malleable heart went squishy.
This isn’t about your heart.“Why are you here?”
“To say sorry.”
Grace fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, glancing down. “You said it. You gave me flowers.”
“I’ve never given a woman flowers.”
Her head snapped up. “How is that possible?”
“I’vesentthem to my mother. That’s it.”
She wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Thanks?”
He chuckled, making the room feel hotter. Pushing off the wall, he crossed the room so he was standing next to her. “In hindsight, I’ve probably done things that deserved an apology. You’re the first woman who’s ever made me stop and take a look at my actions. The first to make me want to apologize.”
A distracting tingle that she was pretty sure was directly connected to the look he was giving her skittered up her spine. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing. It’d make life easier if we stayed away from each other, Noah.”
“Absolutely.”
He said it with so much enthusiasm, she wished she had her mallet. Then he reached out with his index finger and ran it along the bridge of her nose.
“You’re cute when you scrunch your nose up like that.”
Grace swatted his hand away. “I’m not trying to be cute.”
