Page 85 of The Christmas Fix
He’d texted her twice today. Sweet little messages.
Noah: Thinking about you and smiling like an idiot.
Noah: I have rug burn on my knees. I’ll treasure it until it scabs off and leaves gross scars.
She’d read them and smiled. But she hadn’t responded. She didn’t want to set a precedent there. Didn’t want him to start thinking of this… whatever it was as a relationship.
She sniffed the cushion under her face, wondering what the clean, pine scent was. It sure as hell wasn’t her. After the diner shoot, she’d hopped in with a paint crew at the Hai house and then driven thirty miles to a welder’s shop for her top secret special project that was going to be even better than she’d hoped.
She needed a shower and dinner, which she’d forgotten to ask Henry to order.
Ugh. Maybe she’d just skip it. Maybe she’d just go to bed, catch up on the sleep she’d missed, and start fresh and focused tomorrow.
But that fresh pine scent teased her until she picked her face up off the cushion. Her sad little fiber optic Christmas tree had been replaced with a live one, decked with lights. There were three boxes of ornaments— silly reindeer and snowmen—stacked up under the tree.
She frowned at the five feet of tree. Its colorful lights glowing cheerfully in the corner. There was an envelope stashed in the branches. She rose, plucked it from the tree.
To keep you in the Christmas mood.
Noah
She fought against the flutter in her stomach at his handwriting. Noah had gotten her a real live Christmas tree.
Cat glanced around the rest of the living space. It was neater than usual. She didn’t let Henry fuss with her private space. He had enough on his plate and everything about Cat’s life was temporary enough that a little mess didn’t drive her too batty.
But things had definitely been picked up, rearranged. Pillows were fluffed. Her blanket was folded. And the dining room table had been repaired.
Cat stalked into the kitchen, flustered. One night of stellar orgasms, and the man thought he had the right to paw through her personal things? She yanked open the refrigerator door, desperate for water or wine.
It was stocked. Salad fixings, cold grilled chicken, neat containers of black beans and vegetables. Everything she’d need for chicken salads. There were a dozen bottles of water neatly lining the top shelf. She grabbed the first one and the note stuck to it.
To keep your energy up.
Noah
Damn it! Cat wrenched open the bottle of water and drank deeply. She could have stocked her own fridge if she wanted to. Or at least had Henry do it. She didn’t need a keeper.
The bedroom smelled of fresh linens, and there was a week’s worth of clean laundry neatly folded on top of her precisely made bed. The man had stolen and washed her dirty underwear. It should have creeped her out. But the practicality of it made her heart soften, just a little. She had clean jeans to wear tomorrow, dinner tonight, and Noah had left a goddamn chocolate heart with another note on her pillow.
I have Sara tonight, but I wanted you to know I’m still thinking about last night.
Noah
Cat rubbed absently at the ache in her chest. He wasn’t making it easy to keep things simple, uncomplicated. And she had no idea how to handle it. Could she just avoid him until the end of the shoot?
She wandered back out to the living area, weighing her options, and spotted them. The papers she’d scattered near and far. Every application in her school location search. She’d been knee-deep in applicants when Noah had come not-knocking last night.
Those dozens of applications were now in a neat, thick stack with a slew of color coded sticky notes. Curious, she picked them up.
Population too small.
Geography a hindrance.
Employment rate high. Good for them, but not a good fit.
Baffled, Cat flopped down on the couch, clutching the paperwork. She’d been trying to make the same assessments for a week. And Noah just breezed into her personal space and helped himself?
She glanced at the handwritten note paper-clipped to the top of the stack.
