Page 210

“Aside from your cheerleaders and your reputation?”

Noah leans forward, into my personal space, and sends me a stare that singes my toes. “Aside from that.”

I try to back away, but in a small restaurant booth, I have no place to go. “I don’t know this woman…”

“You’re a lot like her, I think. You have a lot in common.”

Lord, I want to know who this woman is. And where he met her. A bar? A business trip? A bus stop? No telling.

“Look, I don’t know her situation, so I probably shouldn’t⁠—”

“Please. I need your help. I really… This means a lot to me. She means a lot. I think she’s the one.”

I sigh in defeat, grinding my teeth to try to hold in my… no, that can’t be despair. I’m upset. A little. That’s it. Damn it.

Noah ditching his string of Miss Right-nows in favor of one Miss Right was bound to happen someday. The timing sucks, but I certainly don’t need a serious guy, much less another trip down the aisle. Maybe I should give him hints, send him on his way—even if the idea makes me want to sharpen my fingernails on the woman’s face. Our office relationship would be much less strained if he has a serious someone else. Maybe I’d stop fantasizing about him. Someday.

“Divorce taught me that men always want what’s new and shiny,” I whisper. “With Tim, it was promotions and trips to Rio and Moscow, Paris, Hong Kong, Cairo, etcetera. The bottom line was, his work was always more important. He wasn’t even there when Cass was born.”

“I was there. I remember.”

My anger softens. “I know. It was sweet of you to wear out the carpet in the waiting room.”

Amusement dances in his blue eyes. “Do you think she’s afraid I might be a workaholic?”

“If she knows you at all, she knows that’s not the problem. Focus, here. Shiny and new. With you, it’s women. And with you, there are always plenty swarming around.”

“I think swarming is a strong word.”

“Yeah, you’ve never been crushed by the horde. Remember that Fourth of July picnic⁠—”

“Ancient history. You’re telling me you’re convinced it’s because she believes there’d be another woman to replace her sooner or later.”

“Sooner rather than later. Even if she isn’t specifically worried about you leaving her for someone else, it takes a while before a girl wants to risk her heart again. God knows, I’m in no hurry.”

Noah shoots me a piercing stare. “But what if, in your hesitance, you’re passing up Mr. Perfect-for-you?”

That has never actually occurred to me. Clearly, I’m too young to spend the rest of my life alone. I might be ready for a steady boyfriend in the next decade. But he has a point. What about all the opportunities—men—I’m passing up now?

“I guess if it was meant to be, he would wait until I was ready.”

Noah shakes his head. “What if he’s ready now? Take me, for instance. I’m almost forty. I want a wife and babies while I’m young enough to enjoy them.”

My jaw drops so low, I’m shocked it doesn’t hit the table. “You want to marry this woman and have kids?”

“Yes.” He stares at me. Right at me.

It’s unnerving. I swallow. Here comes that nasty imitation of despair again. But boy, it feels like the real thing… “I had no idea you were that serious.”

“Now you do.”

“What about the woman who once broke your heart?”

“Who says this isn’t the same woman?”

Okie dokie. He is serious. Deadly serious. I blow out a deep breath. I can handle the fact Noah has apparently been in love with someone for at least months, maybe years, without crying. Maybe.

“And you’re just going to take another chance on this same woman, even though she hurt you the first time?”