Deeper Than Need (15 page)

He headed off to the back of the shop.

“Hey, aren’t you going to show me around?”

He turned around and grinned at her. “Sure.” Pointing to the door, he said, “That’s the office. You probably already noticed … it’s a disaster. I’ll tell you what … if you can make some order of it today? Not only are you hired; I’ll buy you both dinner tonight.”

*   *   *

Trinity stared at the mountain of files and papers on the desk. At least, she
thought
that was the desk. It would probably be
her
desk. There was another desk, but laden with tools and rulers and what looked like drafting paper. She figured that was where Noah did … whatever a general contractor did.

The scary thing was that she’d rather have
his
desk.

It didn’t look as disastrous as the one in front of her.

“I’ve heard of sink or swim, but this is insane,” she muttered.

“So did you get the job, Mama?”

“Yes.” She dropped her purse on the chair. It was the only safe spot. “Come on. Let’s get you settled.” She’d brought the iPad to give Micah something to do while she and Noah spoke, but the interview—if you could call it that—was already over. He hadn’t asked to see her résumé or anything else.

She was hired. Just like that. No background check or anything. He was giving her a hefty break on the work she needed done at the house—

Fear skittered up her back as she thought about the house.

Greyish-white tissue—it didn’t even look like skin. Bits of bone visible here and there.

Stop it—

Pulling the iPad out, she glanced around. Ali had mentioned an extra room, and there was a door. Trinity circled the disaster that some might consider a desk and pushed the door open, revealing a postage stamp–sized room, done in bright primary colors. Fortunately, other than some dust, it was actually
clean.

Definitely designed with a kid in mind, too. There was a small play table, the kind that had storage underneath, as well as a couch, a tiny TV—was that a VCR? Yes, yes, it was. A bunch of videos next to it.

“Mom, what are these?” Micah asked, crouching down next to the basket.

“VCR tapes. What we used to watch when I was a kid.” She grinned a little as she studied one of them.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
“Here. You might like this.”

She took about twenty minutes to deal with the dust and then she left him alone in there with the iPad and some paper to draw on as well as the crayons she always kept with her.

Once he was settled, she returned to the main part of the office and sucked in a breath.

Wow.
With more than a little dismay, she looked around and tried to figure out just where to start. The main desk, she figured. She wasn’t touching the one where she figured Noah did most of his work.

Turning her back on it, she focused on the desk with the computer as a headache pulsed behind her eyes.

Make a dent—he wanted her to make a dent. Well, it had been a while since she’d done the administrative bit, although she’d started brushing up on all the necessary skills over the past few months, thank God. She could do this. Administrative stuff was how she’d started out, after all.

First things first, make some sort of sense of this utter disaster.

Disaster
was putting it mildly.

“What an utter mess.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Office work.

He’d left Trinity Ewing back at his place doing office work.

Now, if only he could get through the rest of the day without thinking about her every ten minutes—every
five
minutes was proving to be a challenge.

The job on her place was one of the bigger ones he was juggling at the moment, but it was on a standstill until he got the okay to get back to work. So he’d done some rescheduling and was moving forward with the project on the coffee shop.

Hank’s group was tackling the roofing repairs and Noah needed to finish up the estimates and go over a few things with Louisa on the remodeling inside. This was one job he wanted
done.
The woman had already changed her mind three times, and if she changed it again it was going to cost her some serious money. That would lead to serious headaches for him.

He hadn’t wanted to spend more than a few minutes updating her, but no. Of course it couldn’t go that way. Louisa wanted to grill him about the Frampton place and it took almost forty minutes just to cover the basic information that should have only taken twenty minutes tops.

In the end, a delivery saved him and he escaped to the area where he’d been doing some renovating on his own. This was one particular area he wasn’t turning over to somebody else. He’d do the estimates, he’d play the contractor, because it made it easier for his client base, but he wasn’t giving up working with his hands.

Smoothing a hand down the exposed brick, he pictured the way the expansion would look when they were done …
if
he could talk Louisa into it. The brick was a mess right now. Everything in here was a mess, but he could see it with a window set along the southern wall, facing out over the little garden Louisa had in the back. Sunlight coming in. Some built-in bookshelves. She had an idea of having community-type events going on back here and he thought the look he had in mind would be perfect for it.

He made a few more notes and checked a site on his iPad, found a few pictures. He e-mailed the links to himself, wished he had a better way of laying things out so he could show the images he had in mind, but he figured he could talk her into it. She’d trusted his dad with the general layout of the place when she’d opened it up fifteen years ago. Noah hoped she’d give him the benefit of the doubt, too.

He absolutely was not being cowardly when he listened before moving out into the hall. He was just tired of playing Which Dead Body Do
You
Think It Was and What Do
You
Think Happened. Maybe those were everybody else’s current favorite games, but they sure weren’t his.

He’d played the what-if game, the why and the when game … all of them, and in a very personal fashion, for too many years. He didn’t want to do it now. All he wanted was answers, and peace. So he could get on with his life.

That thought made him pause for a minute as the realization hit him full force. He really was ready to get on with his life. After twenty years. Closing his eyes, he rested a hand on the wall while a vicious, almost brutal ache gripped his heart.

Get on with my life …

That meant one thing.

Letting go—
really
letting go of Lana.

It was a wrenching thought and one he couldn’t contemplate here as the low buzz of voices cut through the chaos in his head. Forcing himself to move, he opened his eyes and looked around. Louisa had gotten caught behind the counter with a mid-afternoon rush and he waved at her before ducking out and moving around to the side of the building. He tucked his gear into the messenger bag he used for meetings and slung the strap over his shoulder crossways before moving out into the alley.

Slumping against the wall, he stood there, staring at the wall in front of him.

Emotions, too many to name—grief, regret, a distant sort of loss, sadness—ravaged him as the memory of her face tried to form in his mind. It was crazy. When he dreamed of her, those nightmares where blood slowly consumed everything, in
those
dreams everything about her was almost painfully clear.

But now, in this moment, he couldn’t remember much at all. The softness of her hair. Those crazy red curls. Her misty grey eyes that could go from warm to cutting cold in a blink. Sometimes he’d catch a scent of something he couldn’t explain, but it immediately made him think of her.

Now, standing there in that quiet alley, he realized he didn’t want this anymore.

Not at all.

Whether he had answers or not, he didn’t want to live like this.

“I loved you,” he whispered to the faded memory in his mind.

Then he shoved off the wall and headed to the ladder at the end of the alley.

That was all he could handle for now. He had to make his peace, move on. But this wasn’t the time or the place for it.

A shouted curse and a chorus of laughter drove that fact home.
Later.
When he had time to think all of this through, work it out, he’d focus on it then.

For now, the job.

Clearing the roof, he skimmed a look around, taking a few more seconds to settle his mind before approaching the men spread out around the roof. Hank’s crew had already made decent progress. They needed to get this done because they’d won the bid to repair some storm damage at First Christian and that had to be done fast. Knowing Hank Redding, Noah realized his team would be doing some overtime to get everything done.

The other man slid him a look as Noah approached. “Surprised you haven’t already been up here to check on things,” Hank said, pausing just long enough to wipe the sweat from his eyes.

“I had an unexpected business thing to take care of this morning. Then Louisa kept playing Twenty Questions over what happened at the Frampton place.” Although he doubted Hank would start it, Noah slid him a narrow look. “I’m tired of Twenty Questions.”

“Seeing as how Louisa doesn’t stop at twenty, I can understand that. She probably had about eighty.” Hank shrugged restlessly and glanced at his crew. The sound of music, hammers and voices filled the air. “Any of them get after you, just ignore them. I’ll shut them up quick enough.”

With a faint smile Noah said, “Thanks. But I’m getting used to it.” No, he wasn’t, but he’d have to handle it. The questions were going to come, no matter what. Hooking his thumbs in his pockets, he studied the roof. “Looks like you’ll finish up soon.”

“Yeah. If not today, then tomorrow—assuming we don’t get rained out. I’m really hoping we don’t get rained out. We need to get to work on the church before the rain moves in.” Hank shot him a sly look. “So, if you don’t mind me saying, I couldn’t help but noticing your visitor this morning. Saw that pretty lady walk into your office this morning when I was on a break.”

Noah sighed. “You probably see lots of things, Hank.”

“Ms. Ewing sure looked nice in that skirt.” That sly look shifted into a full-out grin. “Did she have anything to do with your unexpected business thing?”

Lee Brevard, one of the men on Hank’s crew, sat back on his heels and whistled.

Noah shot him a dark look.

Lee just grinned. “That Trinity woman is
hot.
If she ever wants to take care of business and you ain’t up to it, Preach, just send her my way.”

Noah just stared at him. Lee went red and focused back on the job.

Next to him, Hank snorted. “Lee, that woman ain’t gonna mess with the likes of you. She’s got a brain in her head; haven’t you noticed?”

Lee flipped him off.

Hank ignored him and looked back at Noah.

Noah sighed and reached up to rub his neck. “It appears I might have filled that office position of mine.”

“Is that a fact?” Hank continued to smile. “Well, she’ll be a pretty thing to look at all day.”

Noah shrugged. “I’m looking for office
help,
not decoration. Since when did you know me to spend more than thirty or forty minutes in my office a day, at the most?” That was part of why the place was such a disaster and why he needed so much help.

“Hey, nothing wrong with enjoying the decoration while you
are
there,” Lee said.

Noah shifted his attention to Lee and just stared at him until Lee looked away, grumbling under his breath.

“Ignore him,” Hank said, although his eyes glinted with humor. “Lee’s still got his head in his pants half the day.”

“Don’t we all?” somebody called from across the roof.

Noah decided it was a good thing he didn’t need to be up there any longer, not with the way this conversation was going. “I’m going to head on out. I need to check with a few more guys for Louisa’s figures. Keep in touch, okay?”

He was trying not to think about how often he’d be seeing Trinity around. Daily. How hard was it going to be to keep his thoughts on business? He couldn’t. Something he’d already acknowledged, at least on some level, when he’d offered her the job.

Man, this was a mess.

He hadn’t been able to have a relationship with
anybody
in twenty years and he had just hired the one woman who had somehow managed to catch his interest in all that time. Life was getting entirely too complicated. A few weeks ago, things had been simpler. Quieter.

Grey.

Dull.

Lifeless.

But there was no going back to it. Things had been changing in him for a while, ever since he’d laid eyes on her and Micah, to be honest; any chance of keeping his safe, bland existence had disappeared the day a couple of rotted boards had given way … and Trinity’s sharp scream of terror had changed everything.

The way his heart had stopped when she’d gone through that floor. The way it had stopped again, as she clung to him down there. As crazy as everything had been, as horrified as he had been—still was—by what they’d both seen, having her in his arms was the first thing that had felt
right
in a very, very long time.

*   *   *

Trinity had absolutely no idea what sort of dent she was expected to make.

But she could see the surface of his desk. Surely that would count for something.

She’d managed to separate paid invoices from unpaid ones, and the unpaid ones were now in envelopes, ready to be sealed, addressed, stamped and mailed. She’d considered doing that, but knowing her luck, Noah had the unpaid ones in the wrong pile or they’d been paid and he’d forgotten to mark them or something.

Until he gave her the okay, she wasn’t invoicing
anybody.

Man, the guy had some serious money owed to him. He needed to get his accounts in order in the worst way. He’d made an offhanded remark about his budget, but if he’d get better about collecting the money he was owed his bottom line would improve quite a bit.