Page 88 of Coming Home

“I’m assuming we’re stillhush-hushabout this.” Todd gestured between them.

They nodded.

Shaking his head, he said, “Okay. Well, on that note, I’m going to head out to run an errand. I’ll be back at three. From now on, I’ll text you before I come in, just to be on the safe side.”

After Todd slipped out the front door, Noah locked it. He turned, and they both burst out into unbridled laughter.

“Well, at least he’d only heard us and didn’t see us,” Noah said, walking to her.

“Are we asbadas Elle and Clayton?” she lamented.

“Never! Again, he only heard us. They’ve been caught in person having sex by at least three members of their wedding party.” He kissed her forehead. “But he does bring up a valid point. It’s been a month of sneaking around. I know you’ve told Summer, and your dad knows. By the way, does he know that I know that he knows? I only ask because he kept calling me son and giving me these almost salacious looks during dinner last Sunday.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t tell him that you know that he knows. By the way, that question sounds like a line fromFriendswhen Monica and Chandler were sneaking around.”

His lips quirked. “Your dad aside, I think we should tell people. Fall Fest is coming up, and I’d like to take my girlfriend. I’d like to hold her hand while I buy her an apple dumpling. I’d like to kiss her in public. I’d like to stop sneaking around.” Determination glinted in his eyes.

All of that sounded wonderfully tempting. To step into the light with Noah. The only time they held hands in public was when they’d drive to Rochester or Buffalo for a date. It would be nice to not have to drive an hour to hold her boyfriend’s hand.

Nat’s gaze flicked to the picture behind the bar. It was from the grand opening. Noah and Clayton beamed as they toasted with bottles of Doc Owens beer. A vision of that picture torn in half flashed through her brain.

She shook her head. “I’m not ready.”

“Nat.” His exhale was loud and heavy. “When do you think you’ll be ready?”

She stepped out of his arms. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“I know you’re scared to tell Clayton, but if your dad is any indication, I think he’ll be okay with us.”

“You think Clayton will be okay that you’re fucking his little sister?” The harshness in the words left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Noah blanched. “How could you say that? That’s not what we’re doing, and you know it. We’re more than that.”

She threw her hands up. “I know that’s not what we’re doing, but that’s where Clayton will go. Besides Elle, you probably know Clayton best. Can you look at me and honestly say he’s going to jump for joy that you are screwing his sister?”

Anger flashed in his expression. “I wish you’d stop putting it in those terms.”

“That’s how Clayton’s going to see it!” she shouted.

“Not if we explain things,” he shouted back.

Nat stepped back. “Stop pushing, Noah.”

He closed his eyes. “I don’t want to be your dirty little secret anymore.”

The words stung like a slap to the face. “Then don’t be,” she hissed, walking towards the back door.

“Nat, wait,” he called.

“No. I need to get back to the clinic. I have patients,” she said, slamming the door behind her as she left.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“The sincere wish to be good is half the battle.”~Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

Dr. Horin’s angular features filled the screen as Nat sat crossed-legged on the floor, back pressed against the couch, her laptop perched on the coffee table. The tightness in Nat’s shoulder blades and jitteriness in her limbs made her shift her position for the third time in ten minutes. Her legs were now bent beneath her. They’d spent the first part of the session discussing the day Evan died.

“So, you called Noah before you called your older brother?” Dr. Horin asked, or perhaps stated. Questions seemed to be statements, and statements seemed to be questions coming out of her red lips.

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