“But not with the right kind of woman.”
“There’s a kind?” He was getting seriously pissed off now.
“Although I do think Lani’s vulnerable and can be easily hurt, so you’d need to make sure not to do that.”
“It’s insulting that you’d think I’d hurt her, Faith.”
“Not intentionally.”
“Don’t you think I can be hurt too?”
“Oh, Noah.” She pushed off the doorway and came closer. “I know you can and still are after what that horrible woman did to you.”
“Samantha’s not the bad guy, Faith. She did what she did because of what happened. It was hard on both of us, especially when we realized we didn’t love each other anymore.”
“She changed you.”
He held up a hand and hated that it was shaking. “We’ve talked around this subject for years, and I’m done with it. Let it go; I have.”
“Have you? Is that why you react weird every time one of your friends is ready to give birth?”
She knew him better than anyone, and that wasn’t always a good thing.
“Whatever. I don’t have time for this, the guys are waiting.”
He walked by her, but she grabbed his arm, hauling him in for a hug.
“You know I talk like this because I love you, right?”
“I know.” He relented and hugged her back. “But I’m good, and there is nothing between me and Lani Sullivan.”
“Okay, if you say so.” She kissed his cheek. “Now go out and have fun.”
Noah ran down the stairs, needing to put distance between himself and… hell, he didn’t even know what. He knew some of what Faith said about his time with Samantha was true, it had changed him, but he’d relegated that to a dark place inside his head that he never revisited unless someone forced him to.
Lately that was far too often.
Chapter Eighteen
After grabbing a box of beers out of the chiller, Noah headed out the front door to where Cubby waited in his Cruiser. Climbing in, they were soon heading around the lake.
“Your pissed-off-ness is coming off you in waves, bud. Care to share?”
“No.”
“Sweet.”
And that was how men worked. None of that “get in touch with your feelings” crap. They bottled things up inside and let them out through physical exercise.
Pulling up at the park, they saw the others there already. The Texans had on Longhorns caps; Jake wore a Packers one like him. Buster wore a visor, and Newman had some kind of bucket hat on and managed to look good.
“The man has style though, you have to admit that much,” Cubby said, pulling on his sheriff’s hat. “But to be honest, I trump the lot of you.”
“There is that.”
Noah carried the beer.
“That better be cold, asshole.”
