Internal Fixation - Tawdra Kandle Page 0,2
me and pulled me into a bear hug. I let myself relax against his comforting warmth. Over the past months, I’d come to accept that Noah Spencer was a tactile guy. He expressed himself through touch—whether that was a hello hug, an arm slung around the back of my chair when we ate or watched a movie, or the way he kept one hand on my back whenever we walked through a crowd. It didn’t mean anything, other than that he was a naturally handsy dude, and that was his way.
At least, this was what I told myself. Repeatedly.
“You’re late.” I pushed back from his embrace and shot him a stern glare.
His answering wince was so adorably guilty—like a little boy caught coming in tardy to class—that I couldn’t help giggling.
“I know.” He stepped away from me slightly, keeping his hands on my shoulders. “Sorry about that. The traffic driving in from Tampa was a killer this morning. Plus, I had to stop to pick up a few last-minute . . . necessities.”
I cocked my head. “Noah. What did you do?”
He feigned innocence. “Nothing. C’mon, let’s get your stuff loaded up.” He squinted at the totes and boxes I had stacked neatly to the side of my porch. “Is that it?”
“How much did you really expect?” I threw up my hands. “Look at where I live. I promise, I haven’t been holding out on you all these months, hiding a secret basement or an attic. What you see is what you get.”
He grinned, his gaze raking me up and down. “What I see is pretty damn special.”
And there it was. I managed to convince myself that Noah’s touches were just how he was. I pretended that there wasn’t anything the least bit odd about his attention, our daily phone calls and running text thread, or how often he drove over here from the west coast of Florida. But every now and then, Noah said something that took me aback and shook all those notions I held onto so firmly. When it happened, my natural reaction was to ignore him. But it was getting harder and harder to do that.
Incidentally, on the topic of harder and harder . . . Noah bent over and lifted up one entire pile of boxes, picking them up like they were a stack of pillows, and slid them into the bed of his truck. I swore he didn’t even break a sweat. But as I watched his muscle ripple and shift under his jeans and T-shirt . . . I might have been sweating just a little.
Shaking myself from my stupor, I jumped up onto the back of the truck to help him distribute and secure the boxes, fitting them together like pieces of an enormous puzzle. The drive from here to the cabin wasn’t long, but it was over rough terrain, and I didn’t want to lose anything.
“So—remind me who’s coming today?” Noah offered his hand to help me leap down to the ground and then slammed the lift gate on the truck.
Pursing my lips, I cast my eyes upward and counted off on my fingers. “As far as I know, Jenny and Nico, Darcy, Alison . . . oh, and Anna and Jimmy.”
He nodded. “Good crowd. Many hands making light work and all that.”
“Uh-huh. And they’re probably wondering where we are, so let’s hit the road.” I curled my fingers around the handle of the passenger side door. I’d left my car over at the cabin last night—Nico and Jenny had dropped me off at the trailer after we’d finished a few last-minute touches—which was why I’d been waiting for Noah’s arrival.
He paused, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans. “Don’t you want to take a moment to say good-bye to this place? You know, relive the memories, thank it for sheltering you during your first year in Florida—that kind of thing?”
I rolled my eyes. “We had our long good-bye last night, during which time I said things like, ‘Thank God my cabin has air conditioning!’ and ‘I’m sure not going to miss this composting toilet!’” I pressed my lips together. “Now that I’m moving out, I can appreciate that this wasn’t a terrible place to stay for the short-term, but not all of my memories here are exactly sunshine and rainbows.”
A shadow passed over Noah’s face, and I could’ve bitten off my tongue. Both of us knew that many of those memories had to do with Angela and with