Page 25 of The Marrying Kind
I wanted to know what he was thinking, but Noah was being guarded. I sighed in preparation for the words I was about to dump on him.
It’s not that we were a particularly repressed family that never talked about our feelings or anything. Our mother had made sure of that. But I didn’t usually open up to Noah about my life’s musings. I was the older brother, the one he and Logan generally came to when they needed advice. How to change a tire, how to get to second base ... Now the table was turning, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“We’re building this amazing legacy from what our parents built. From what Nana built. And I’m just starting to wonder where it’s all going to go. What are we doing all this for? I mean, I love the work. I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone’s, but I feel like maybe there’s some secret joy I would unlock if I had someone to share it with ... a wife, a baby. Something bigger than myself to care about and fight for.”
I sneaked a look at him and noticed Noah’s jaw tighten. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Maybe trying to hold back from making fun of me for gushing like this.
But there was something else too. Because I could tell my question bothered him, but I didn’t know why.
Finally, he released a long, slow breath. “Don’t go after a girl who’s only here temporarily. She’s not the marrying kind, Austen. I don’t know if you were serious about all that, but I think you should think about it. Can you really picture her here?”
I scoffed. “We thought the same thing about Rachel, that she’d be gone before winter hit, but look at you guys now. She’s happy. She loves it here.”
Noah shook his head. “Rachel grew up here. You were the one who placed bets on her leaving, not me. I knew she was seriously considering it, picturing what life here could be like.”
“Maybe Ella’s doing the same,” I said hopefully, though hearing myself say it out loud somehow made it seem even less likely. Was I being dense about this?
Noah straightened, balling an oil-stained rag in his hand. “It wasn’t like Rachel was going in blind. She lived on this mountainside for eighteen years with her grandfather.”
He had a point, not that I’d admit it.
I frowned. “I don’t know why you’re talking about this. Ellaiswife material, and I’m going to show her everything she’d be missing out on if she were to leave.”
Noah sighed and grabbed a bottle of oil from the shelf. He set the funnel in the small opening on the engine and began to pour.
“You know her better than I do,” he said, but then seeing the way my face perked up, he continued in a more serious tone. “But you still barely know her. And everything she’s told you says she wants to travel the world and do crazy things like sword fight on the Great Wall of China.”
“I believe I told you she wanted to skydive, but I see what you’re getting at.”
He screwed the cap back on the bottle and shook it at me. “I don’t want to see you get your heart broken, and I’m not an idiot. You’re clearly smitten.”
I might have been a few clicks past smitten, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
“Why not just find a nice local girl to be with? We both know the way CJ looks at you.”
Clicking the air pump on the right tire which always leaked, I flicked the switch and the air compressor whirred to life, drowning us out for a few moments.
CJ was fine. She was fun and pretty enough, but there just wasn’t anything there. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew in my gut she wasn’t the woman for me. Just like I had that inkling of a feeling that Ella was.
But maybe my gut was wrong. Ella was interesting and adventurous, confident and self-assured. But she was a woman on a mission. I just wished that mission somehow included me.
The reality was, though, her future didn’t include me.
Noah was probably right. Which meant I’d been a massive moron the past week when I turned down her offer to have a one-night stand. Maybe I wanted more in the future, but the reality was, I had a goddess sleeping in my bed who wanted me, and I was resisting for no good reason.
In that moment, I resolved to correct that the first chance I could. She was going away anyway, so torturing myself wasn’t going to change that fact.
With new gusto, I worked double-time on the old snowblower so I could get the hell out of there.
• • •
By the time I walked through my front door, it was later than I’d hoped. Between a last-minute run to the pharmacy for Nana, and filling in the hole a coyote had started to dig under the chicken coop, the day had gotten away from me.
But there was a smell in the air that made it all worth it. Ella’s shampoo. It was strawberry, and the scent filled my whole house. I could get used to this.
Steam billowed from under the bathroom door, so I sat on the couch and tried to stare a hole through the wood. My imagination did the trick, though, and my pulse quickened at the image.
I’d need to get in there after her and freshen up after the long day, but for now I had nothing to do but let my mind wonder with dirty ideas. Especially about how I was going to pull this off.
