Page 16 of Fifty-Fifty

He’s shown his hand. And there ain’t nothin’ he can do or say to change my mind. I’d rather donate the place to a damn charity than let him touch a dime of Jay’s money. How that spawn of Satan carries the same genes as Jay, I’ll never know. Guess it’s just another unsolved mystery, right?

A few minutes later, the front door closes on the main floor. My breath catches in my throat as I hear Noah’s booted footsteps make their way up the stairs. Each board creaks under his weight until he reaches the top and stalks down the hall before quietly closin’ his bedroom door behind him.

Bastard.

* * *

The next mornin’, I get up bright and early to start on the housework, and I am grateful that I don’t run into a certain asshole durin’ my activities. The bathrooms are first on my list, and I take care of them quickly. Next, I need to climb on the roof and fix a leak. Jay used to always do this kinda stuff, and I’m a bit clueless about what I’m doin’. Mac won’t be sleepin’ for much longer, though, so it’s now or never.

And if that bastard thinks I can’t run this place on my own, well... He’s got another thing comin’ to him. I’ve raised a child on my own, and I can sure as hell run an inn on my own, too.

I’ve got a handful of nails, a hammer, and a few pieces of roofin’ material I found in the shed. Releasin’ a sigh, I start scannin’ the roof for anythin’ that looks outta the ordinary. Unfortunately for me, every damn shingle looks like every other damn shingle, which means this is gonna take forever to find where the leak is comin’ from.

Regardless, I get to work. All the while, I pretend every little nail I hammer is a certain tattooed man’s head.

After an hour or so, I check the baby monitor strapped to my hip, surprised that I haven’t heard my two-year-old chatterin’ to herself yet. I decide to go check on her and climb back inside.

Goin’ to the walk-in closet, I damn near have a heart attack when I see that it’s empty.

My palms are sweaty as I grip the railing and race down the stairs.

“Mac? Sweet pea? Where are ya?” I call out, prayin’ she’s somewhere in the house. My first thoughts go to Noah. I barely know the man. He wouldn’t hurt my baby, would he?

My breathin’ is shallow as I scan the entryway before rushin’ through the family room and finally into the kitchen.

My feet skid to a halt when I see her sittin’ in her high-chair while eatin’ a banana.

I place my hand over my racin’ heart as I try to catch my breath.

“Baby, you scared me. What are you doin’ outta bed? And how’d you get in there?” I ask, motioning to the high chair. My feet are still frozen in place, and I’m afraid that if I try to move, I’ll collapse into a heap on the floor.

“Hey. I’m sorry we scared you. I heard her wandering in the hallway, calling your name, so I came to investigate. She said she was hungry, so…” Noah looks me up and down, taking in my work jeans and utility belt strapped to my hips. “Where were you? We looked everywhere.”

He doesn’t sound frustrated by being woken up by a toddler. In fact, he sounds almost… worried. And sheepish. Definitely sheepish. He knows I overheard his conversation last night, so I guess that makes sense. I had almost forgotten about it with Mac’s disappearance.

The kindness he showed to Mac is enough to make me question my anger. I’m still mad, but now… Now I feel resigned to the whole thing.

“I was on the roof. Tryin’ to fix a leak. I had the baby monitor up there, but I guess she didn’t start talkin’ ‘til she was outta range for it. She doesn’t usually climb outta her crib.” I pause, searchin’ for the strength to express my gratitude for lookin’ out for her. By some miracle, I find it, regardless of his conversation from the night before. “Thanks for helpin’ her, Noah. She scared me to death.”

He nods his head in understanding. “No problem. Did you say you were trying to fix a leak?” His lips tilt up on one side, trying to conceal his amusement at the word try.

I shrug one shoulder. Now it’s my turn to feel sheepish. “Jay used to handle that sorta thing. It’s a bit harder than it looks.”

He chuckles dryly before placin’ his big palm on the back of his neck and squeezin’. “Well, do you need help?”

My jaw nearly hits the floor as I consider his offer. “I’m sorry, did you just offer to help me?”

He quirks his brow. “Yeah?”

“Why on earth would you do that? I heard you last night, Noah. I know exactly how you feel about me and my daughter. I know how you feel about the inn.” My voice rises as the memories resurface. “I heard everythin’. You made yourself perfectly clear of your intention and why you’re really here. So let me repeat, why on earth would you offer to do anythin’ for me?”

He has the decency to look uncomfortable under my caustic tongue, but I just can’t help myself. It makes no sense.

Noah looks over at Mac, who’s still busy eatin’ her banana and watchin’ a bird outside on the grass. Noticing she’s thoroughly distracted, he turns his attention back to me.

“I know what you heard.”

I stand up straighter, trying to overcompensate for my crumblin’ reaction last night.

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