Page 52 of Kiss the Girl
“He’s really good with them,” Noah said a few minutes later.
“Yeah. He’s patient. When Tabitha and I were teenagers, we helped him build our addition, and I don’t think he raised his voice to us once even though we whined and bickered nonstop.”
“Addition?” He turned to look at the house, and I smiled, proud that he’d never figure out where it was if I didn’t point it out to him. That was how meticulous my dad was.
“The garage,” I explained. “We converted the original garage into another family room, added a second story, and then added a new garage.”
“Wow. I would have never guessed. And you helped with all that?”
I nodded. “From the foundation to the roofing. He wanted us to know what we were talking about when we worked in the store. And he liked spending time with us. I didn’t love it so much while we were doing all this in the July heat and humidity, but it’s pretty cool to think that I’m staying in an apartment I helped build.”
When my dad wrapped up his safety lesson, we broke the boys into groups and set them to work, one group cutting the easiest pieces first and then moving it to other groups to sand and then prime.
Noah dropped his dating hints right away. Squeezing my shoulder any time he passed me, brushing hands, long looks that made me fumble tools. Twice. At one point, he physically picked me up and moved me out of his way. I hoped my dad wasn’t noticing any of this. A few minutes later, he stood behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder to study the plans I was holding. It made it hard to concentrate, but I tried.
“Does that make sense?” I asked the kid in front of me, as I explained which part he was working on.
“Yeah, got it,” he said, nodding.
“Hey, coach, that your girlfriend?” one of the players hollered from near the workshop. My dad looked up, interested in this question too.
“None of your business,” Noah said, but he squeezed my hand before he walked off, leaving no doubt as to the “real” answer.
My dad raised his eyebrow at me, and I gave him a weak smile. I needed to explain this before he gave my mom a heart attack when he reported his version of events.
As the two hours neared an end, my nerves were stretched to the fraying point as we directed the boys to start packing up for the day. Not because of them—they’d been fine. My dad had even left after about an hour to head over to the store because the team was handling themselves so well.
No, it was Noah who was wearing me out, sending enough electrical zaps flying along my nerve endings that I could qualify as a circuit board.
As the last players climbed into a car and left, I took my first deep breath since Noah had dropped his fake dating bomb. We could quit the act. Based on the comments I’d overheard from the players, our show had worked.
Maybe too well. Even without an audience, I found myself anticipating his next touch, my body almost straining for it, looking for reasons to drift into his orbit.
But the show was over for now. What Ineededwas distance, not sparks.
The sliding doors to the house opened, and my mom stepped out. I’d expected her to hover much earlier—as soon as my dad inevitably told her that Noah and I might be dating. But she looked even more unhappy about me dating a Creekville guy than I’d expected.
“Tabitha called,” she said. “She’s not coming to Thanksgiving.” Her voice wavered, and she looked so bummed.
I had a tiny moment of panic. I’d run out of time to figure out how to break it to my mom, and now all I wanted to do was cheer her up. “That’s okay because we’re going to have some fun company.”
“Who?” she asked.
“Noah and Evie here, and Evie’s mom. You’ve met her at the store a couple of times. Paige? The new holiday hire?” I’d warned Noah he was going to owe me big. I hoped he was okay with me hijacking his Thanksgiving.
She tried to arrange her expression into something resembling excitement, but I could still see disappointment in the lines around her eyes. It had been a hard year for her, trying to keep her real estate business going, holding it together for my dad. She was entitled to be sad that Tabitha wasn’t coming.
“Mom, it’ll be fine. We’ll have a fun Thanksgiving, and Tab will be home for Christmas.” I was desperate to find the words that would make this better.
“I’d wanted to…” She stopped, sniffed, swallowed hard. “I just wanted this to be a special Thanksgiving because I have more thanks than ever to give. I wanted it to be a celebration when your dad’s scan comes back clear. A first Thanksgiving for the rest of our lives kind of thing.”
“Mom…” I didn’t know what to say. Dang it, Tabitha.
My mom straightened. “You’re right, honey.” She mustered a smile. “It’ll be fun to have company for Thanksgiving. Do you like to cook, Evie? You can help me make some Thanksgiving pies,” she said when Evie nodded enthusiastically. “Won’t that be fun?”
“Yay, cooking!” Evie said.
“Tabitha learned to cook from me, you know,” my mom informed Noah.
