The house creaked as Noah dressed, its usual morning noises amplified by storm damage and newly exposed walls. He chose a dark button-down and his best tie, as if looking put together could somehow counteract the chaos around him. As if wearing his teacher clothes could shield him against the memory of Luke’s hands on his waist, steadying him as the ceiling collapsed.
“Dad?” Eli’s voice carried from the bedroom. “Is Mr. Luke coming to fix more stuff today?”
Noah smoothed his tie, buying time. “He’s bringing supplies to start repairs. But you still have school, buddy.”
“But I could help! I know where all the leaks are, and?—”
“School.” Noah kept his voice firm despite the way his stomach flipped at the thought of seeing Luke again. “You can help when you get home if he’s still here.”
He herded Eli through their abbreviated morning routine, grateful that at least the kitchen had escaped major damage. The coffee maker sputtered to life—probably the only appliance not actively trying to die—just as someone knocked on the front door. He’d gratefully accept the coffee Luke was bringing. He’d need something stronger than what was available in the teacher’s lounge to get through the day.
Noah’s pulse jumped. He knew that knock, even though Luke had only been to the house a few times. Knew the rhythm of it, just like he now knew the sound of Luke’s truck in the driveway or his footsteps on the porch.
“I got it!” Eli darted past him, pajama pants dragging on the floor.
“Pants first!” Noah called after him. “Then breakfast, then school.”
But Eli had already thrown open the door, letting in the smell of coffee and something else—something that made Noah’s chest tight. Luke stood on the porch, juggling coffee cups and a box of what looked like pastries from Sweet & Simple.
“Morning, disaster team.” Luke’s easy smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Brought reinforcements.”
He looked…good. Unfairly good for someone who’d probably gotten as little sleep as Noah. His work clothes were clean but worn in a way that spoke of regular use, and his hair?—
No. Noah wasn’t noticing Luke’s hair, the way his shirt stretched across broad shoulders and a muscular chest, or how his presence filled the entryway with a warmth that had nothing to do with him bringing coffee and breakfast.
“Thanks.” Noah accepted his cup, careful not to let their fingers brush. “You didn’t have to?—”
“Actually, I did.” Luke set the box on the kitchen counter, maintaining careful distance. “Can’t face catastrophic damage without proper fuel. And I’d bet the rent that you tossed and turned half the night, freaking about how you were going to pay for the additional repairs.”
Eli bounced on his toes. “Are those Miss Megan’s cinnamon rolls?”
“Buddy,” Noah warned, but Luke just chuckled.
“They sure are.” Luke handed the paper tray with two coffees and a smaller cup to Noah. “But I think someone’s supposed to be getting ready for school. Go do that, and then you can have a roll before you and your dad have to leave.”
Eli disappeared up the stairs, leaving them alone in the kitchen. Silence stretched between them, filled with the drip of water into strategically placed buckets and the hum of dehumidifiers Keaton had dropped off last night.
“So.” Luke fiddled with his coffee cup. “About last night?—”
“We should focus on the repairs,” Noah interrupted, not ready for that conversation. Not when he could still feel the phantom press of Luke’s lips, still taste the rain on his skin. “The dining room ceiling?—”
“Right.” Something flickered across Luke’s features, too fast to read. “Professional priorities.”
Professional. The word sat heavy in Noah’s stomach, along with the knowledge that he’d probably just made things worse. But what was the alternative? Admitting he hadn’t stopped thinking about their kiss? That it had felt more right than any kiss he’d shared with Jenna?
That it terrified him how much he wanted to do it again?
“I made a list,” he said instead, pulling a notepad from his briefcase. Lists were safe. Practical. “By room, in order of?—”
“Dad!” Eli thundered down the stairs. “Is this okay for school?”
Noah turned, grateful for the interruption. Eli hopped into the room, wearing his Captain America T-shirt backward and somehow had both legs through one side of his sweatpants.
“Not quite, buddy.” Noah set down his coffee. “Let’s try again.”
When he looked back, Luke had retreated to the dining room, his voice carrying as he talked to someone on the phone about supplies. Professional distance stretched between them like caution tape, marking boundaries Noah wasn’t sure he wanted to maintain.
“Thanks, man. I know I said this wouldn’t pull me away…” Dread settled in Noah’s stomach as he eavesdropped on Luke’s conversation. He should tell Luke to go to work, to forget about the soggy plaster all over. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad. If I can get things cleaned up today, I’ll be out at the Tillerman’s place tomorrow. Luckily, we’re ahead of schedule there.”
