Author's Note: Just a quick warning for this chapter since I don't know who all is reading. We all know that both Will and Noelle have not-so-great pasts family-wise. Noelle's shows up here. Be prepared.
Other than that, I hope you enjoy the chapter. ~lg
oOo
Something was wrong.
Noelle sensed it the morning after she and Will shared dinner on the deck, but she didn't know for certain until the weekend. He still showed up at the house, did work, and typically left before she got home from her job. But she started noticing little things: new locks on the windows and doors when the old ones were just fine, the way he seemed to assess the area when he arrived in the morning, and how he always asked if her days were normal. Not good, but normal—like he was looking for something out of place. In those moments, he seemed less like an accountant and more like a bodyguard keeping an eye out for danger. And that concerned her.
But what did he have to be worried about? Noelle's relationship with her ex-husband had been difficult, but Travis had never physically abused her until the very end when she walked out. He was verbal, though, and she often dreaded what he'd say. But Will seemed to expect trouble in the form of attackers coming after her. And it caused him to draw away.
On Friday evening, she managed to get home before he left. He'd started painting the front of the house that day, and she caught him on a ladder. He glanced down with a smile as he emptied his brush. "How was your day?"
"Fine." She squinted up at him, the sun turning him into a silhouette. "Stay for dinner?"
"Uh. . ." He glanced at his watch. "Sure."
She hadn't expected him to agree so easily. Rushing inside, she found enough food in the fridge to throw together a meal and had a lasagna in the oven before he knocked and entered the house. She turned with a smile, and the smile dissolved into a laugh. "You're speckled!"
He wiped at his face, making the problem worse. "Yeah, the paint sprayer I bought was a piece of junk."
She tossed a hand towel his direction. "I hope the paint's water based."
"It is." He headed for the bathroom and closed the door.
Noelle stayed in the kitchen. She liked Will, but he kept himself at a distance. And she was grateful. She didn't know if she could handle a relationship right now.
But what about a friendship? Will had not indicated he wanted anything more than that, and Noelle knew she'd jumped to conclusions. Why couldn't men and women be friends without anything else between them? It had happened in history, and human nature dictated that people needed other people. But why should she be stuck with simply Greta as a friend and her options with Will as a romance or nothing at all?
She hadn't resolved those problems when he reappeared. He'd managed to get most of the paint off his face, though it still peppered his hair quite liberally. His work jeans, plaid shirt, and the paint changed him from the accountant she'd first met into a man who worked with his hands for a living.
He leaned against the counter, watching her work. "So, normal day?"
"Yes." She glanced over. "Why?"
He shrugged with one shoulder. "Just. . .last week, you said it had been a rough day. I was making sure. . . ."
"My ex called that day," she explained a second time. "Like I said then, it's never really easy. When he's spinning a bunch of lies, it's even worse."
Will narrowed his eyes. "He lie to you a lot?"
"Every day." She rolled her eyes. "Why? Planning on tracking him down and teaching him a thing or two? Because it wouldn't work."
"How can you be sure?"
Noelle blinked at the sudden change in his voice. It had lowered, become a lot more dangerous. And he seemed a bit sheepish, almost as if he hadn't meant to say that. Or for her to hear it.
He obviously saw her look and snorted at himself. "Sorry. That slipped out." He shook his head. "Um. . .how about we leave the past in the past and just. . . ."
"Good idea." Noelle hated the sudden tension between them but then reminded herself that she'd only been in contact with Will Brandt for two weeks. She knew next to nothing about him save that he'd once been a teenage crush of hers. And he really didn't know her or her triggers either. So, some tense moments were bound to happen as they found their footing and figured out just what they wanted from one another. "So, when you go back East, what is it you do?"
He gave her a sharp look before a smile softened the expression. "I work for the Department of Transportation."
"Really?"
"Yep." He accepted the tea she offered and helped her carry plates and forks to the table on the back deck. "I help train DoT officers in procedure and self-defense so that, when they do make a traffic stop, they're prepared for anything. And you'd be amazed at what sort of trouble a person pulled over for speeding can cause. Most of them are routine stops, but routine stops can turn deadly in an instant."
Noelle grinned at the way his face lit up slightly when he talked. He seemed to believe in his work, and he had suddenly explained the strange wariness that crept in. "So, you're a traffic cop?"
He held up a finger. "Glorified traffic cop trainer," he corrected her.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll remember that next time."
They laughed, the tension from earlier broken. But, as he left later that night, Noelle allowed her smile to slip. She'd put on that face so many times with Travis that it seemed second nature. She hated that she'd done so with Will. Still, he'd given her a lot to think about.
So, he was a "glorified traffic cop trainer." In spite of his lighthearted way of putting it, he had a pretty important position with the Department of Transportation. Policies came from somewhere, and federal traffic cops got their training from someone. If Will helped determine their training course, then he likely had experience with martial arts and self-defense.
Maybe he could teach her? For a few moments as she ran a bubble bath and settled into the hot water, she envisioned the two of them on the beach, him training her as they spent hours laughing and growing closer. The problem was that her daydreams always ended one place: with her in his arms as he kissed her like she'd never really been kissed before.
Sitting up in the bathtub, Noelle blinked that vision away. She could not become that attached to Will Brandt. In three or four weeks, he'd go back to the East Coast, back to his job with the Department of Transportation, back to his life. And she'd be left in a beach house with a broken heart—again. No, better to allow him to put distance between them than to allow herself fall for him.
Letting the water out of the bathtub, Noelle dried and dressed for bed. She planned to paint her bedroom the next day, with the bathroom being done on Sunday. That way, when she went back to work on Monday, she'd have all the interior painting complete. She knew that Will wouldn't return until Monday. He had said as much that evening, preferring to leave her to herself over the weekend rather than crowding her. Right now, she appreciated the distance.
In the spare bedroom where she'd piled her clothes on the bed in neat stacks until she could get a dresser for her room, she quickly pulled out her paint clothes and eyed the closet. It wasn't that big, and she hadn't really done more than sweep out the corners since she moved in. Now, she began to wearily put clothes on hangars and hang them up. She was tired, but she also wanted to feel settled for the first time in months. And she wouldn't with her clothes spread everywhere.
Sighing at the headache that had begun to form as she tried to figure out her own thoughts, Noelle rolled her head around on her shoulders and made a discovery that changed the course of her entire life.
oOo
Will spent most of Friday night staring at the ceiling and arguing with himself over the cover story he'd given to Noelle. It wasn't the first time he'd used that cover, and it came in handy when his neighbors got a little too nosy—which they rarely did. This was the first time, however, that he'd thought twice about it.
Finally, around three in the morning, he decided not to worry about it. This was the life he'd knowingly signed up to live when he joined IMF, and Noelle was probably better off not knowing what he really did. Besides, just because they'd known each other as kids did not mean they'd become anything more than good friends now. Will knew the danger of that, and he had absolutely no intention of ever putting Noelle through the stress of his life.
After that decision, he drifted to sleep. The phone woke him, and he grabbed it without looking at the caller ID. This was his personal phone, and the specific ringtone that indicated something was wrong hadn't sounded. "'lo?"
"Will?" Noelle's voice sounded hesitant. "I woke you, didn't I?"
"Yeah." Will rolled onto his back to glare at his watch. Ten in the morning? "It's okay, though," he added as he rubbed his eyes. The sun poured through the windows and warmed the foot of his bed. It made his entire position—lying on his back under warm covers—even more enjoyable. "What's up?"
"Um. . .it's really nothing." Noelle seemed rather embarrassed. "I'll let you get back to sleep."
"Noelle?" He waited until he knew she hadn't hung up. "It's really okay. I needed to get up."
"Well, I found the entrance to the attic."
Will could almost see her biting the inside of her lip. "Have you been up there yet?"
"Yes?" The question told him she'd done her own exploring. "I didn't open but one box, and it was a bunch of books. But when I realized it was more than empty boxes, I thought I'd call and ask if I could go through them. I don't have a TV, and I like to read, and. . . ."
"Give me thirty minutes; I'll be over." He cut off the rambling explanation, both enjoying the sound of her voice and wondering why she'd feel so bad for satisfying her curiosity. As a spy, nothing was sacred to him—not really. He had his secrets, but even those had been documented and classified. He tried to keep those things private. But sometimes, those secrets got out. Ethan's confrontation in Dubai had been a prime example.
As a result, he honestly wasn't upset with Noelle for prying. He'd have done the same thing.
Noelle hung up a few moments later, apologizing again. Will shook his head as he climbed from bed. In spite of his night-long angst-fest, he'd managed to rest rather well. His stomach growled, reminding him it had been quite a few hours since lasagna at the beach house, and he called downstairs to see if Greta had anything to pack up in a box. She agreed to his request and, within twenty minutes, Will had left the B&B behind while munching on one of Greta's amazing homemade donuts.
Noelle met him at the door of the beach house, wearing a knee-length denim skirt that had seen better days and a tired high school t-shirt. Her hair, which she kept tucked up in a bun most of the time, hung over one shoulder as she waited for him to park and come up to the house. He offered the box as he did so. "Greta packed way too many donuts for me."
Noelle laughed. "She does that. Come in, and I'll make a fresh pot of coffee."
"That would be wonderful." Will glanced around, smelling paint. "Bedroom or bathroom today?"
"Bedroom." Noelle spoke over her shoulder as she fiddled with the coffee pot. "I'm debating on whether to tackle the bathroom tomorrow or wait until next week. I really need bedroom furniture, and there's a consignment store near Walmart I want to go to. They might have something I'd like."
While coffee brewed, they debated the pros and cons of her shopping trip. As soon as the coffee pot finished, though, Noelle poured a fresh cup and fixed it with cream and sugar, handing it over with a smile. She added more to her cup, drinking it black and surprising him. She hadn't struck him as a coffee drinker when they first met.
"So," he began after he tasted that first sip and enjoyed a second donut with Noelle, "where are the books?"
"Still in the attic." Noelle shrugged. "As soon as I realized it was personal items up there, I called you."
He nodded. "Let's get them down, then. I have no idea what's in them, but there should be something good in those boxes."
She narrowed her eyes. "Didn't your grandmother like to read?"
"Yeah, she did." Will stood still for a moment, suddenly transported nineteen years into the past. On his last visit to the beach house, he'd seen his grandmother sitting on the deck with a book in her hand. She'd loved the classics: Jane Austen, Emily Brontë, and the like.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want." Noelle's statement dragged him out of his thoughts.
He shook his head. "It's okay. I was just. . .thinking. I hadn't thought about Grandma liking books in. . . ." It had been years since he remembered something pleasant about his grandparents.
Noelle nodded and continued to the room, where she'd set up a ladder to get into the attic. The bed was piled with clothes, a few on hangers and the others arranged in neat piles. He didn't look too closely, preferring to focus on what was in the attic. After steadying the ladder for Noelle to climb up, he followed and found her hunched over in the dim attic while opening a decades-old box filled to the brim with books.
A smile touched his face. He remembered these. Back when he'd been a kid, they'd been lovingly displayed on beautiful bookcases in the living room. The bookcases had likely gone to his grandfather's house after his grandmother's death, but the books stayed here. It made him wonder what else was in the attic.
For a time, Will allowed Noelle to poke through the books while he circled the rest of the room. It was a small attic, not one meant to store much more than a few boxes and some clothes. So none of the furniture he remembered remained. But he did find a stand-alone mirror he recalled, as well as another box filled with books. Some of them had been contemporary novels in his grandmother's time, but a good portion of them were quite old.
He turned to find Noelle sitting in a patch of sunlight, reading. Piles of books surrounded her, and she had a smear of dust across one cheek. But she reverently turned the page, her face glowing as she read the story.
"Find something good?" Will asked.
She jumped, slamming the book closed. "Just. . .a favorite of mine."
He motioned to the boxes. "Well, look, it's just the two of us. But I think we can get the boxes down without any trouble. And there's that mirror over there if you want it down as well."
Noelle followed the direction he pointed and nodded. "That would be great. Thank you."
They spent the next hour figuring out how to get the heavy boxes down from the attic. In the end, Noelle stayed in the attic and dragged the boxes over to the opening, where Will balanced them as they slid down the ladder like a child's slide. It took a lot of maneuvering to keep from dumping the entire box that was opened, and he did wind up using a box as a shield as one set of books rained down from above. Noelle laughed in delight, and he glared playfully back at her. But, before lunch time, they had managed to get the mirror into her bedroom unbroken, and the boxes of books were stacked against one wall in the living room.
Since he was there, Will decided to continue working on painting the outside of the house. And Noelle went back to her bedroom. She'd taken down the curtains over the windows in order to paint, and he caught sight of her working every now and then. Once, she offered him a smile, and he waved. But they didn't talk again for most of the day.
All that changed when he heard the sound of someone drive up to the house and stop. Noelle had gone to greet the newcomer, so Will kept painting. He'd trained himself to listen to conversations around him out of a need to know his surroundings, but he honestly tried to keep from eavesdropping this time. He failed miserably, though, when he heard Noelle telling whoever had come that he needed to leave. Figuring he'd be within his rights to intervene, Will climbed down the ladder, wiped his hands on a rag, and rounded the corner.
He came face to face with Travis Gilbertson, Noelle's ex-husband.
oOo
Had the windows not been open to help drag the paint fumes from the house, Noelle would never have heard the truck pull to a stop outside. And things would have gotten much worse. As it was, she glared at her ex as he climbed out of his truck and looked around. Thankfully, Will had finished the front of the house, so it no longer looked as pathetic as it had when she first rented the place. To Noelle, the house was perfect from Day One. To Travis, it would never measure up.
Then, he looked at her. "What are you doing?"
"Painting." Noelle added a note of "duh" to her tone. "Why are you here?"
"Give you this." Travis held up an envelope that likely held her alimony check.
Noelle left the front porch, walking over to snatch the envelope from his fingers. She'd check it later for accuracy and decide whether or not she needed to report it. "I thought things were tight this month."
"They loosened up." Travis made a show of studying the house. "Beach house. Nice!"
"Yes, it is. And it's my home, so I'll ask you to leave."
"Oh, come on, Noelle. We haven't seen each other in. . .what? Six months?"
Too soon in my opinion. Noelle glared at him. "We're divorced, Travis. And I live here. You had to drive well out of your way to come up here. So, now that you've seen where I'm at, you can get in your truck and leave."
"Is that the lake?" Travis pointedly ignored her words. If it were any other man, she would have thought he'd become easily distracted. But Travis had a way of saying things as if to prove he would do what he wanted. "I didn't think you made enough money for a house on the lake. So, what else are you doing?"
Noelle's jaw dropped open at the insinuation. "Excuse me?"
Travis whirled to face her. "You've gotta have some sort of options. There's no way you're paying for this house from a job in this town. Now, what is it? And why didn't you just stay in Chicago?"
"I wanted to leave Chicago for years! You know that!" Noelle refused to back down from the argument, not when Travis stood in her yard. "And, unless you've forgotten, my position was downsized. I lost my job!"
He snorted. "Never were smart enough to keep it."
Tears started to form in her eyes, and she pointed at the truck. "That's it! Leave before I call the cops!"
"And what? Tell the backward sheriff here in Podunktown that your husband is harassing you?"
"Ex-husband," Noelle replied, emphasizing the first syllable. "As in, we're divorced, I don't want to see you, and you're invading my home. Leave!"
"No."
Noelle glared, not entirely sure what to do. Travis had never been this belligerent before, leading her to believe something had happened to change him.
Then, Will walked around the corner. Noelle wanted to heave a deep sigh of relief, but she restrained herself due to the way Travis smirked. To his credit, Will merely looked curious as he wiped his hands on a rag. "Everything okay here?"
Travis frowned at Will. "Who's this?"
When Will glanced at Noelle, she decided introductions were in order. "My landlord, William Brandt. Will, my ex-husband, Travis Gilbertson, who was just leaving."
"Landlord, huh?" Travis turned his back to Noelle, completely dismissing her as he placed himself between her and Will. "So, you're the one sleeping with my wife."
Will dropped his hands to his sides, tucking the rag back into his pocket as Noelle watched the transformation. His position never changed, but something indefinable shifted. "We're not sleeping with each other, and she rented my house. I'm here doing repairs." He never looked away from Travis. "Now, I've heard Ms. Blake ask you to leave no less than five times. I suggest you leave."
"Suggest?" Travis scoffed, glancing over his shoulder. "Noelle, where'd you find him?"
Will simply stared at him.
Noelle decided now was the best time to intervene. Will trained federal traffic cops in self defense and likely had at least one black belt in some sort of martial art. Travis had bravado. No matter who won, this could end badly for all of them if Travis didn't leave soon. "Travis, please. Just go."
"Oh, no, I'm having too much fun!" Travis snickered as he went back to the staring contest with Will. He took a few steps forward, invading Will's personal space. "Let me tell you all about your new girlfriend, Brandt. You see that innocent look there? It's a fake. She's really. . . ."
"I asked you to leave," Will interrupted what would likely have been another tirade against Noelle. "If you go now, I won't file trespassing charges."
Travis laughed again. "Trespassing?" His grin disappeared. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."
"Nor do you," Will replied.
The next several moments were tense as Noelle watched the two men stand nose to nose. Will's position never shifted in spite of Travis's posturing, leaving her ex-husband overconfident in his position. He stood a couple inches taller than Will and worked out on a regular basis. Noelle had seen him put one of his brothers on his back with one punch, but something in Will's stance told her this just might be different. He'd loosened up, for lack of a better term. And his face had gone carefully blank.
Travis narrowed his eyes. "So are you? Sleeping with her? Or are you just the help like she says?"
Will lifted his chin slightly. "Who Noelle sleeps with—or doesn't sleep with—is her business. As I've said, I'm the landlord. This is my property and her home. So, unless you've been invited to stay, you really should leave."
"Or what? You'll make me?"
Noelle knew what Travis was trying to do. He wanted to goad Will into a fight so he could cause even more problems. But Will just gave him an unimpressed stare.
Noelle stepped forward, putting a hand on Travis's arm. "Leave, please." She hated the almost pleading tone in her voice. But she really did not want to deal with Travis or Will after a fight. She knew Travis would cause even more problems, and she didn't know Will enough to even guess at what he'd do. Someone needed to be the adult in this situation and, in spite of Will's best efforts to be one, that person had become her.
Travis sneered at Will. "This isn't over."
Will didn't respond beyond raising an eyebrow. His expression clearly told everyone he'd look forward to pounding Travis into his place.
Travis glared at Noelle. "I'll be back next month with your check. Make sure your guard dog's on a leash." He gave Will a significant glance before he stomped to his truck and climbed in, gunning the engine and sending gravel flying as he pulled out of the driveway.
Noelle turned to see Will finally relaxing. He closed his eyes, likely to hide the fact he wanted to roll them, and shook his head. But the encounter had ruined her day. Travis didn't make promises he didn't keep—unless it was to his wife. Still, when it came to being heavy-handed and aggressive with her, he usually followed through on his threats. If he said he'd be back next month, then he'd show up next month. The problem wasn't that she couldn't get rid of him. Travis would stagger his visits, just so she couldn't know when he'd appear.
As soon as the truck disappeared, Will moved to Noelle's side. He gently took her elbow, frowning when she pulled away. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just. . . ." She stared up at him, seeing genuine concern on his face. Her hands shook, and she wanted nothing more than to cry. But she wouldn't, not with Will around. As she'd told Travis, he was her landlord. As much as she wanted to consider him a friend, she didn't know him well enough to let him see beneath the surface. "I just need some time. Okay?"
Will's hand dropped to his side. He nodded. "Okay. Just let me clean up the mess I made out back."
Noelle let him go, hating herself and her ex-husband for destroying the day. Right now, she wanted to let Will be the hero. But what would good would that do? It certainly wouldn't change Travis's actions any more than it would change the situation.
Within half an hour, Will left her alone. He stopped at the front door long enough to gently tell her to call if she needed anything. The serious expression in his eyes told her that he meant every word. Noelle promised to do so and watched as he pulled away. Then, when his car disappeared the same way that Travis's truck had, she dropped onto the edge of her couch and let the tears flow.
This was not the weekend she'd had in mind.
~TBC