This Just In.... Jennifer McKenzieЧитать онлайн книгу.
this is my first assignment for the paper. If you say no, Trish won’t give me another one. I’ll have to go back to pushing caffeine on the masses.”
He glanced at the shop behind them. No one had worked up the nerve to follow them outside, but Noah knew it would only be a matter of time. Small towns. Where people thought they had a right to know everyone else’s business.
“Please.” Sabrina’s voice drew him back. “It’s important.”
Noah looked at the downward tilt to her eyes. She really did think it was important. Either that or she was a hell of an actress. He inhaled another lungful of cold air. Her point that it might look bad for him if only Pete’s interview ran was valid. But wouldn’t it be worse if she wrote a less than flattering portrayal of him?
Yes. Unequivocally and undeniably.
She appeared to think his silence meant he was considering her offer. Her face brightened. “I promise not to tell any of your deep dark secrets.”
Which only reminded him again of how she’d already done that to his family. Fool him once, shame on her. Fool him twice...
“I don’t have any deep dark secrets.” There were no secret babies, no hidden marriages, no arrests or youthful indiscretions. Just that his birth mother had died when he was an infant. That he and his father had moved to Wheaton when he was four and his dad had married Ellen. That when his dad had died a year later in a freak car accident, Ellen, with a brand-new baby to care for, had adopted Noah. Which everyone in town already knew.
“Really? Doesn’t every politician need a deep dark secret or two?”
“Not this one.” He kept his voice steady. Even as a teenager when most kids were out too late, stealing from their parents’ liquor cabinets or just testing boundaries, Noah had been a model son. He got good grades, worked hard to earn a hockey scholarship to a Michigan university and never stayed out past his curfew. And he hadn’t been that way only for his mother. He’d seen it as his chance to show the whole town that although he hadn’t been born within town limits, he was one of them.
“Okay, but if you did—” Sabrina’s eyes caught his and held “—I wouldn’t write about it. I wouldn’t write anything that could be considered inappropriate.”
He’d like to believe her, like to give her the benefit of the doubt, but he couldn’t. Not when there was so much at stake. An article that she might look at as something to entertain the readers could derail his political career. And then who would he be?
Noah placed a hand on her arm, the one still holding his pastries hostage and tugged until they were between them. “I’ll think about it,” he told her as he plucked the box from her grip.
She let the box go without a fight, but when he turned to leave, she caught his forearm. Her fingers felt warm through the material of his dress shirt. “Will you?”
Her face was open and seemingly sincere. But Noah knew how easy it was to fake emotions for the camera or, in this case, the potential interviewee. “Yes.” He let her hand remain on his arm a moment longer then nodded. “Have a nice day, Sabrina.”
“You, too, Mr. Mayor.”
“It’s Noah.” He didn’t know why he said it. If she wanted to call him by his title, as so many in town did, he shouldn’t care. Didn’t care. He attempted to cover his verbal hiccup. “Most people call me Noah.”
“I’m not most people.”
She was standing only a couple of inches from him. The breeze caught her hair, tugged the strands toward him. They whispered across his cheek, just as soft as they looked. Noah exhaled slowly. “I’ve noticed.”
NOAH CLIMBED OUT of his car in the driveway that led to the attractive blue house with its white front door and beds of flowers lining the pathway up to the porch. The house wasn’t his.
“Uncle Noah!” His only niece, Daisy, raced out the front door and into his arms. He switched the bag he was holding to his other arm and scooped her up, then swung her around until she shrieked.
He’d needed some family time after this morning’s run-in with Sabrina. Not that anything bad had happened or would happen, but it had unsettled him. He carried Daisy up the stairs and back into the house.
“Mommy, Mommy. Uncle Noah’s here.” Daisy wriggled to be let down.
Noah sent her off with a pat and made his way to the kitchen where he could smell whatever Marissa was cooking for dinner. The scent made his mouth water and reminded him that other than the half scone he’d managed at the morning meeting, he’d had nothing but coffee today.
“Uncle Noah’s here,” Daisy said again before darting out the kitchen door and into the backyard. The door slammed shut behind her.
Marissa sighed and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Noah.” She came forward to give him a peck on the cheek. “To what do we owe the surprise?”
“Just thought I’d drop in.” His stomach grumbled, giving him away.
She laughed and pulled down another plate. “Put this on the table.”
He did, feeling guilty now that he’d barged in on them. He spent a lot of time at Kyle and Marissa’s house, but sometimes he worried that he was an intrusion on their life. “I brought dessert.” He offered the cardboard box containing cupcakes that he’d bought at the bakery before heading over.
“You didn’t have to do that.” But she looked pleased and accepted the gift. “Kyle’s out back with the kids.”
Noah could hear them all in the backyard. Five-year-old Daisy screeching at the top of her lungs and eight-year-old Paul trying to talk over her. He glanced out and saw Scotty, who’d just turned two, running with them, his little legs pumping to keep up. Kyle stood at the edge of the patio keeping an eye on his brood while the baby, Timmy, slept on his shoulder.
Noah opened the back door and stepped out. Daisy spotted him and let loose another loud cry of happiness before hurtling toward him, hell-bent on hugging him or taking him out at the knees. He picked her up before she could do any real damage. He rarely had trouble with the old knee injury he’d sustained in college hockey, but a determined five-year-old moving at full speed wasn’t a risk he wanted to take.
Kyle grinned when he saw him. “Heard you were here.”
“I wonder who from.” Noah jiggled Daisy until she laughed and then plopped her back down on the grass and moved to stand beside his brother. They were almost the same height and coloring and looked more alike than most siblings.
They watched as the kids tore around the grass. Paul dribbling a soccer ball, sending a gentle pass Daisy’s way. She missed the ball, but cheerfully ran after it, Scotty trailing behind her.
“I talked to Sabrina Ryan today.” Noah broached the subject casually. Though his brother worked at the dealership and Noah could have pulled him aside at any time during the day, it hadn’t felt appropriate. This was a personal matter and should be treated as such. “She wants to interview me.”
“Really?” Kyle turned an interested face toward him. No sign of any discontent or distrust, but then Kyle was like that, friendly and forgiving, like an overgrown puppy. “What for?”
“She’s interviewing the candidates for mayor.”
“Nice.” Kyle clapped him on the shoulder. “When?”
“I didn’t say yes.” Noah ran a hand through his hair and looked to his brother’s face for clues, but found only idle curiosity. “What happened when she interviewed you?”
Although Noah had read the article, they’d never discussed the details. Noah hadn’t wanted to press and