Page 56 of For Fake's Sake and other stories

He shoots his head up and drops his hands onto his lap. His grey eyes turn stormy, darker, and dilate. He likes the command. Hmm, interesting. I now want him even more. No way am I letting him go.

“I’m sorry. Something happened at home, and I couldn’t get away. I wanted to meet you. I really did, I promise.”

That’s a vague reason, but I can tell it’s the truth. “What kind of something?”

Noah worries his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. Some kind of internal debate is going through his head. Is he in trouble? Is he safe? Is he younger than I thought?

Finally, he lets out a long sigh. “It’s my mum. She’s not well, and last night was difficult for her. I couldn’t leave her. I’m sorry, Everett. I really am.”

“I’m sorry, Noah. That must be hard for you both. Is she ill a lot? I mean, is it treatable?” What kind of illness does she have? Cancer is always the first one that comes to my mind and probably everyone else’s too. Is he alone with her, no father or siblings?

“It’s treatable but not curable. She has MS, and she’s been having too many relapses lately. I don’t know what to do to make it better for her. It’s just us two, always has been. My dad disappeared not long after I was born. We haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

I reach over the table and clasp his much smaller hand in mine. “I’m sorry, Noah. That must be so hard on you both. I wish I could help.”

He shrugs, picks up his sandwich, and takes a bite. The melted cheese pulls free from the bread, and he snags it with his teeth. He’s utterly adorable. With the sandwich under control, he smiles at me, the first genuine one since he came out of the shop. “Why did you come back? Any other man would’ve called me a dick and not thought about me again. Not that I get asked out very often and never at work.”

I find that hard to believe. I would’ve thought he was inundated with offers.

“I told you. I wanted to see you. Still do, in fact. Could I have another chance to take you out? For the record, I think you’re worth chasing, although I’d rather you didn’t run. I’d like to get to know you if you’re still interested as well.”

A blush stains his cheeks again. “I want to get to know you too.”

I cup his jaw and stroke my thumb over his warm cheek. “Can we try again? Is your mum going to be okay on her own for a few hours?”

“She’s better today. Unless you want to wait until the weekend?”

I don’t think I can wait a few more days. I want to do this tonight. “I like the idea of tonight. Can we make it the same place and time?” I’ll try to book at the rooftop restaurant again. They didn’t grumble at all when I cancelled last night.

Noah nods, his mouth full of sandwich making him unable to speak. His eyes are shining silver again. The stormy grey has vanished. When he swallows and takes a sip of his tea, he looks happier than thirty minutes ago. “What do you do? You’re not dressed as if you’re working in an office.”

Should I tell him I’m co-owner of the biggest building companies in the area? I don’t get the feeling he’s looking for a sugar daddy, as a few others have done in the past. Honesty is the best way to go forward for our relationship to prosper. Shit, I’m jumping ahead of myself. Here I am, already seeing us as a couple when we haven’t even made it to date number one. Besides, he may not be looking for the same thing I am. He’s so young. Around twenty-one or two, not much more than that. “I’m a builder, houses mostly.” I point to the logo on myshirt. “I’m co-owner of Holt Homes. My brother is the other owner. Yesterday I had to be in the office, which I hate, by the way. I much prefer working outside, getting my hands dirty. Metaphorically speaking, that is.”

He looks at my hands. Yes, they’re calloused and rough in places, but they’re clean, and my nails are tidy. “Oh, I see. That’s great.” He doesn’t look too impressed with the whole business owner thing, which makes me happy. Other men I’ve dated have switched to money-grabbing arseholes when they found out. “Can I ask you a different kind of question? Um, how old are you?”

I chuckle. “I’m forty, forty-one in September. Is that going to be a problem?”

Noah shakes his head. “No, not at all. I’m sure you’ve guessed that I like older men.” And there’s the pink blooming over his high cheekbones again.

“Do I get to know how old you are?” I’m sure he looks younger than he is. His smooth jaw looks like he doesn’t even need to shave.

“I’m twenty-three. It was my birthday last month. I know I look younger. I still get ID’d every time I go out. Is that okay for you?”

Is that okay? Most definitely. “Noah, that’s absolutely okay. You’re perfect.”

He turns his phone over on the table and checks the time. “I have to get back.”

With a nod, I stand, and he does the same. We pay for our lunch and walk back to the store. I stop him with a hand on his arm. “Noah, can I give you my phone number? If you can’t make it tonight, please call me.”

He opens his phone and, after swiping it open and tapping a few keys, hands it to me. I add my number and give it back. “Send me a text so I have yours.”

He does it straight away. “Thank you for coming back, Everett, and for understanding and being so kind.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that. I’m the lucky one who’s getting a second chance. I’ll see you tonight.”

He shuffles his feet, then goes up on his tiptoes and kisses my cheek. His lips barely touch my skin, but the heat burns through me.

The rest of my day goes quickly. The dull, broken feeling I came to work with dissipated with every word Everett spoke. The shock of him coming back to sort things out was such a surprise, but as the lunch goes on, I see and hear how much he’s into me. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever met, but sometimes good looks are all a man has going for him. Attitude and maturity are what I love about older men, but I’m not a play toy, and that’s often what plenty of older guys want.

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